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streamingcolors-gvf · 1 year

Text

Skin Deep

Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack, story edited by @garbagevanfleet

Credit to @kiszkasun for providing the wonderful edits of the guys for inspo 🖤

The amazing Tattooartist!Jake moodboard created @pennylanefics that sparked this idea weeks ago 🖤

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka

Word count: 12.3k

A/N: @asparrowofthedawn planted this idea in my brain, and I couldn’t function until I wrote it out. She’s been such a gem giving input and support throughout the week. It wouldn’t have been brought into existence if it wasn’t for her ❤️

Also, this is a smut fic with the twins, so if that is not your thing- please keep on scrolling. It’s my first one, so I’m nervous about that. Feedback and thoughts are always welcome and my inbox is open!

**Disclaimer: As someone with multiple tattoos, I tried to make this as realistic as possible. That being said, it’s not going to 100% accurate of the tattoo experience. Please don’t come for me**

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, sexually explicit material a MINORS DNI!! (Unprotected penetrative sex, oral m!receiving, oral f!recieving, fingering, biting, slapping, dirty talk, spit kink, sitophilia - food/drink play, praise kink, soft!dom, teeny bit of restraints if you squint, let me know if I missed something!)

Masterpost

You pull open the door to the shop, greeted instantly by the chime of the tiny bell that alerts the staff of your presence. Looking around, it appears to be like any standard tattoo parlor, with its walls covered completely with framed pictures of flash art and leather-covered bench seats lining the waiting area. It’s dead quiet aside from the music playing over the speakers from the back room, and there’s no one to be found.

Confused, you pull your phone out to check the time.

11:48. Lunch time.

You chew at your lip, waiting a few seconds before deciding to turn back to the exit, only to be interrupted by the sound of a man’s voice.

“Hello!”

It’s friendly and upbeat, making you spin around on your heels to find the source. With a name like, ‘The Edge of Darkness Tattoo’, your mind has conjured up some interesting characters, so you’re more than shocked when a young man walks out from behind a curtain - heavily tattooed as you’d expect - to find his place behind the counter.

His laughter is muffled into the paper napkin that he wipes across his mouth. “Sorry about that, I was just eating some of my noodles and wasn’t sure if I heard the door open.”

“Hi,” you respond, letting your nervousness shake through your voice as you take small steps forward. You’ve had a few negative experiences with tattoo artists in the past, so you’re not ready to give up the apprehension just yet. “And that’s okay. I didn’t realize what time it was. I can come back later-“

He cuts you off with a wave, and displays a warm, reassuring smile, “Don’t be ridiculous. What brings you in?”

“I-uh. I have a t-tattoo design.” You stumble over your words, but you clear your throat and start over. “I’d like to make a tattoo appointment.”

“Fantastic! I can certainly set that up for you.” He wiggles the mouse to the computer in front of him and starts tapping away at the keys. “Artist?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Did you have an artist in mind?” When he realizes you’re still a few feet away, he ushers you forward, “Come on up here! I promise I won't bite.”

You shuffle forward with nervous laughter escaping from the corners of your mouth, “I don’t know any. This is actually my first time here. My best friend was the one to recommend this place to me.”

“Perfect! I love having new clients. So, here’s what we can do. I can look at the design you brought in and then we can discuss the artist that would be the best match for what you’re looking for. Sounds good?”

A smile forms on your lips as you start falling into the rhythm of his energy. “That’s great. It’s on my phone though. Is that okay?”

“Of course! Honestly, you should see the crazy stuff that people bring in sometimes. I’m pretty sure someone doodled their idea on a Mcdonald's napkin for me once.”

Now that you’ve left your once-looming anxiety at the door, and shuffled a bit closer, you’re able to take in the details of his appearance. The sides of his hair have been buzzed, leaving his tousled curls to rest at the top of his head and down the back of his neck. His ears are exposed, showcasing the thin golden hoops in each lobe, as well as the industrial bar through the right. The sharp angle of his jawline leads your eye to the trimmed goatee on his chin and mustache framing his full lips. The vibrant floral tattoos on his neck peek out above the collar of his cream-colored crew neck with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, allowing you to look at the artwork that filled every inch of space from his bare forearms down to his knuckles. Admittedly, you’re a bit surprised to see that his face is mostly clear from piercings other than the tiny metal hoop on the left side of his nose.

God, he’s cute. Like really cute.

You try to shove away your attraction for him by unlocking your phone and tapping on your photos icon to pull up the pictures of your design in question. Even though your shaking hands are causing you to fumble with your phone, he waits patiently for you..

“Here it is,” you mumble under your breath when you find the right picture, and you turn it around to show him.

“Wow! That’s a big piece!”

“Uh, yeah. Is that okay?”

“Fuck yeah!” He leans in closer to get a better view, blessing you with the musky scent of his cologne that’s layered with sweet notes of vanilla. You don’t even realize how close you’ve been leaning in to chase it until you smell the mint from his gum. He coos softly, coating the words with a slight raspiness, “Ooh…that’s sexy. I fucking love floral pieces like this. Where are you wanting it?”

“I was thinking about the upper thigh and hip area,” you explain, pointing to the area on your body in a general motion of your hand.

“That’s going to look fucking sick.” He reaches forward, cupping his hand around yours to get a better look at the image on your screen. You’re in denial with how flustered he’s making you, distracting yourself from the warmth of his hand on your fingers by looking up at his face. Your eyes are captured by the fond smile tugging on his lips as he zooms in and out of the picture with his index finger and thumb. “Man, as much as I would love to do this for you — and as much as I hate to say this — I think Jake might do a better job.”

You’re entranced in his aura, only mere inches away from his face, sucked into the gravitational-like pull he has. Somehow, you manage to ask in a quiet voice, “Jake? Does he do pieces like this?”

He straightens to a standing position, breaking the closeness between you. “Yeah! Well, he will fight me on it, but he tends to do more black and gray. Actually…hold on. Lemme pull out the books.” He leans down behind the counter and lifts two leather-bound books that are similar appearance to photo albums. He opens one that has “Josh” written in gold script across the front, and starts flipping through it. “See, I’m more of a lettering and bold line work guy myself. A little more color than Jake does.” He hums to himself and shrugs. “Flowers like the ones you want aren’t out of my comfort zone though.”

You are in awe of his talent as you watch him flip through each page, “I see that. It’s really beautiful work, and I’m guessing you’re Josh?”

He flashes an award-winning smile, revealing the tiny gap between his two front teeth and the dimple on his left cheek. “The one and only.”

It earns him a bashful smile and a soft giggle from your lips, creating an undeniable moment of tension between you. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, causing your eyes to drop down to your hands while he grabs the second book to open and flip through. He’s pausing on each piece, giving you the time to study Jake’s portfolio of work. You wish you could say you were paying attention at first, but your eyes seem to act on their own, drifting up to Josh’s mouth instead. Deep in concentration and unaware of your shameless gawking, he plays with the ball of his tongue ring against his teeth and lips while flipping through each laminated page.

Your eyes never stay on the artwork for long before they flick back up to Josh, and as if the universe is playing a cruel joke, he catches you the last time. Embarrassed, you quickly avert your eyes to anything else in the room, but before you can, you catch a glimpse of the grin forming on his lips.

You’re positive a telltale blush shows on your face as a wave of heat rises from your chest, and your train of thought is completely derailed.

After sitting in a too-long moment of silence with the only sound filling the room is the pop! of his gum, he shuts the book, and clears his throat before asking, “So, what are you thinking?”

“Huh?”

An airy laugh flutters from his throat. “Which artist would you like to book with?

“Oh!” You consider your options, even if you're afraid to disappoint him by ultimately taking his initial advice. “I think I agree with you on picking Jake.”

“Solid choice. I promise I’m not offended.” He nods and shoots a playful wink. You stiffen and scramble to come up with an explanation, but he cuts you off before a word leaves your mouth, “Hey, I’m just playing with you. Relax, mama.”

The gentle touch to your arm and term of endearment makes your head spin.

“Okay. So, let’s look at his next availability. Which seems to be…hold on.” He clicks his tongue over his teeth as he scrolls on the mouse. His eyes light up and meet yours, “I think you lucked out! Looks like he has an opening next week, but it’s the last booking of the day. Is an evening appointment okay for you?

“Yeah, I think so. What time does the shop close?”

“We aim for eight depending on who’s working that day, but Jake likes to stay late and fit people in when we can.”

“Will you be here?” You blurt out the question before you can reel it back on your tongue. You’ve found a sense of comfort in his presence and taken the chance it might put your mind at ease to know the answer.

As if he can see the gears in your head turning, he adds, “I will. Don’t worry. Jake is one of the best artists here so trust me on this, but he’s also booked for the next six weeks, unfortunately. And besides, having the shop to yourself is always great, and you won’t have to stress about anyone else popping in.”

You’re beginning to understand why he’s working the front counter here; his beautiful smile and kind eyes can probably sell you anything. Hell, he could pitch an offer for the giant glass bowl filled with mints that are sitting on the counter and you’d take him up on it. You didn’t need much convincing because this tattoo has been something you’ve wanted for months and months. He just happened to whisk away any morsel of doubt that had been lingering over your head.

You hum in thought despite the fact that your mind is already made up. “That’s true…okay, let’s do it.”

He reaches out and gives your hand a tight squeeze. “Fuck yeah! Let’s get you set up.”

Josh spends the next ten minutes discussing the details of your design and quotes you on a price based on the time and space required for the piece. You fill out paperwork as he takes a deposit, reserving your appointment for the following week. He suggests emailing your ideas and images to Jake directly and hands you one of the business cards that has his information on it.

You flip the tiny rectangle-shaped cardstock in your fingers. “Could I have yours as well?”

“Sure!” He reaches over and plucks his own card from the stack and hands it to you. “If you have any questions, concerns or if something comes up and you need to reschedule, please don’t hesitate to call or text me. You can call the shop too, but good luck on getting someone to pick up.”

You giggle at the thought and start making your way toward the door. With your back pressed up against the glass, you wave with a farewell. “Thanks for everything, Josh. Guess I’ll see you next week, then.”

He gives a final smile and waves back as you push the door open. “See ya around.”

A week later you’re back in the shop thirty minutes before your scheduled appointment time. You frown when Josh isn’t standing behind the counter, but you wait for someone to greet you, checking out the selection of jewelry in the glass display case as well as the flash albums sitting on the counter. You hear the faint sound of music and footsteps coming from upstairs.

Maybe they didn’t hear me come in.

You walk towards the stairwell and call up to the second floor, “Hello?!”

A male voice echoes back, “I’ll be down in a second!”

After a few minutes, you hear the shuffling of feet coming down the creaky stairs. You see the worn black vans first before you’re greeted by the rest of the man wearing them. Once he comes into full view, he says in a friendly tone, “Hey there!”

He closes the distance between you and extends an open hand for a shake. He’s another young man like Josh, dressed in dark wash jeans that are cuffed at the ankles, and an almost entirely open chambray button-up, rolled up to the elbows to expose his tattooed arms and chest.

How many cute guys work here?

“Hey!” You offer a hand and ask, “So, you must be Jake?”

He accepts it, wrapping his other hand around yours, encapsulating it in his warmth, and flashes a smile that seems a little too familiar as he answers, “That’d be me. You’re my eight o’clock?”

You nod, making him release your hand and shift a little on his feet while he sweeps his fingers through his long chestnut brown hair. “So, uh, I’m just wrapping up some of the finishing touches on your design, but it should only be a couple more minutes.” He gestures to the stairs behind him. “You can follow me upstairs to wait on the couch… if that’s more comfortable for you?”

You suppose you are a little earlier, so the extra wait doesn’t bother you. “That sounds great!”

You follow him when he leads the way up the wooden staircase, stopping to admire all the artwork covering the narrow walls. To your surprise, the second floor opens up into a large open space. A subdued glow coming from desk lamps illuminate the room, casting everything in a brooding, gothic feel. The wood flooring brings out the richness of the emerald green painted walls, and in the center, there is a dark, studded leather sofa that matches the wall color. Framed artwork and oddities fill the space. Your eyes scan over a variety of things like flash, band posters, mounted bugs, taxidermy pieces, swords, a vast collection of records with a turntable, dried flowers, and everything in between. Looking around, there appears to be two main work areas set up in opposite corners, with the furniture breaking up the space in the middle.

Turning to you slightly, he gestures to the couch with an open hand. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. It shouldn't be longer than a few more minutes.”

You sit down, dropping your purse by your feet to settle into a more relaxed position, anticipating that you might be here for a while. You pick up one of the tattoo magazines off the coffee table and start flipping through it to pass the time. Glancing over the pages, you see Jake sitting at a desk working away on an iPad. It’s deathly quiet except the music that’s set at a low volume playing over a Bluetooth speaker.

You try not to stare, but you can’t help watching a talented artist at work. His long hair has fallen from his shoulders, causing the wavy, slightly-knotted tendrils to frame his face as he looks down at his work. You’re mesmerized by his graceful beauty, noticing little details like how his full, bottom lip pouts out from him being so hyper-focused. His hand sweeping across the screen with the pen being held between his fingers is the only thing pulling your attention. At one point, he becomes annoyed with his hair being in the way, and combs it back in a loose bun, securing it with the hair elastic that was wrapped around his middle digit. The way he's bent over, gives you a view down his chest from his shirt being so open, but you’re too far to make out any of the tattoos covering it.

When it seems like he’s about ready to finish drawing, you try to busy yourself with anything else but him, so he doesn't catch you as Josh had done a week prior. You end up scrolling aimlessly through your phone, flipping through several apps until you hear a chair being pushed out across the floor. At first, you are startled by the scraping sound of metal against wood, but the reaction shifts to excitement when you look up to see Jake walking over to you.

By the expression on his face, you can tell something is bothering him. “Sorry about that. The last guy took longer than I expected and — uh, never mind, you don’t want to hear about that.” He shakes his head, shooing away the thought. “Honestly, I really just wanted to make it perfect for you.”

“I appreciate it! And it’s okay, I didn’t mind waiting.”

He sits on the couch next to you and hands the tablet over with the design displayed on the screen. “What do you think?”

The amount of raw talent he has blows you away, exceeding every expectation you could have, like he’s plucked the vision straight from your brain. You gasp in awe, zooming in and out of every detail. “It’s so beautiful!”

A prideful smile forms on his face and he settles a few more inches, getting close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body as his leg presses up against yours. The proximity allows you to smell the teakwood notes of his cologne and the cinnamon candy that he’s rolling around in his mouth as he talks. “You sure? If there is anything you want to change, I would be more than happy to do that.”

You swear you’re able to feel his breath fan against your neck. “I think it's perfect.”

He leans in more, pointing to the different details of the design with the pen, “See, I thought that this part would be a nice touch, right?” He pats your knee before giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think it makes it unique to you.”

The way he emphasizes the last word with that low gravelly tone to his voice sends a chill through your spine. You squeak out while handing the tablet over, “I love it.”

“Okay, great. I’ll go ahead and get the stencil ready then. We can go from there to see how it fits in the spot you want.” He stands to his feet with the tablet in hand, and disappears into a hallway out of your sight, leaving you alone on the couch.

Another door on the opposite side of the room opens and closes, and a trail of footsteps follows it, growing louder and louder as they approach. You hadn’t seen Josh yet, but you weren't aware that anyone else was here in the building. You twist around on the couch and see a recognizable face presented in front of you.

He’s dressed differently tonight, wearing a white t-shirt that showcases more tattoos than before, jeans, and a pair of scuffed white vans. The things that haven’t changed are his welcoming eyes glimmering in the light when they meet yours. He chimes across the room in an upbeat voice, “Hey, you!”

“Hey, Josh.” You keep your voice light and casual, hiding the embarrassment from how he’s already making you feel.

He stops in his tracks and turns towards you with a pained expression on his face. “Okay, now I feel bad that I don’t remember your name.”

You wave him off through your giggling, “I don’t think I gave it to you.”

He rolls his eyes, albeit playfully. “That doesn’t change the fact I’m the dumbass that didn’t ask.”

You give him your name and hear it called back to you in his voice. To avoid feeling flustered like you did the last time you spoke to him, you dare to change the subject. “Ya know, you and Jake look like you could be brothers.”

He huffs a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back with a hand placed over his chest. “It’s funny you say that. We’re actually twins.”

Your mind connects all the dots, comparing their similarities and differences the second the words hit your ears. You allow a grimace to spread across your features when you realize how awkward it was for you to say they were related just now. “Oh shit, how many times a day do you hear that?”

He shrugs as walks over to the couch you’re sitting on and props his elbows on the back of the furniture. Leaning forward, he teases you with that cheeky smile, “Don’t worry, you have plenty of time to come up with original material.“

You scoff and just as you’re about to face away from him, he reaches out and taps your shoulder. “Can I tell you something?”

“Shoot.” Your heart starts racing with the possibilities running wild in your mind.

The smile on his face shifts to a nervous one and his eyes drift up to the ceiling for a few seconds before they fall back to yours. “I’ll be honest, I half-expected you to cancel tonight.”

“You thought I would wuss out?”

His eyes widened from the implication, afraid that he offended you. “No! No. Nothing like that.” He pauses, searching through his mind to find the right choice of words, “It’s…you just didn’t seem all the way committed to getting it when we talked last week. Like I was pressuring you into it or something.”

You didn’t realize you were being that obvious about it.

Your eyes drop to your hands as you pick at the cuticle on your thumb. “I guess I am a little nervous.”

“Yeah? That’s pretty normal for a big piece like this.” He shifts back on the heels of his feet and brings a hand up to his neck, rubbing the muscles, “I still get nervous sometimes.”

“I heard it was in a painful spot too?”

“Yeah, it can be with any sensitive spot and anywhere you don't have a lot of padding over bone is going to be a bitch. But don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Jake is a gentle lover.” He suddenly makes a displeased face, giving away that the last part accidentally slipped out when he forgot that you were still a client.

You control the smile that’s threatening to show on your face as you unwrap the mint that you’ve taken from the jar downstairs, popping it into your mouth, “And what about you?”

His mouth falls open, but no words come out. Instead, he decides to watch the way you roll the candy around on your tongue.

“Okay, let’s go ahead and see how these look-“ Jake’s voice echoes from the hall, but he cuts himself off once he sees you and Josh staring at each other. It only takes a second for a knowing grin to spread across his lips. “Am I interrupting something?”

Josh clears his throat and pushes himself off the edge of the couch, fighting back the smirk that’s creeping up with each passing second. “No, just chatting.”

You notice that Jake’s changed from the button-up into a comfortable black t-shirt, showing you the extensive work that covers both of his arms. He turns to face you, offering you a warm smile and a gesture of his hand over to the mirror. “Shall we?”

You leave your stuff where you are while he gathers his supplies and follows you to the full-length mirror set up along the wall.

Standing before it, you remember the area you’ve chosen for your tattoo, and ask, “Should I take off the thong too?”

You thought it was a reasonable question, but you second guess yourself when he coughs loudly. A heat of embarrassment flushes in your chest when you watch both of Jake’s brows raise as he swallows harshly, “Uh, well, no... I-I don’t think you need to do that. Just lifting the dress will be fine.”

He gathers a disposable razor and a plastic squirt bottle that’s filled with a light green solution in his gloved hands and crouches before you. You pull up your dress in your hands for him, bunching the fabric up in your fists right under the band of your bra to reveal the black lace thong you’re wearing.

“May I?” He asks softly, and you nod in approval. You feel anxious, jittery even, like every inch of your body is buzzing with nervous excitement to the point you think you’re shaking uncontrollably.

A shiver rolls through you the second the squeezes the bottle of green liquid onto your skin. “That’s cold.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, while he wipes away the soap solution that’s running down your legs with a paper towel. “Guess I should have warmed it up for you.”

You blush at the thought, watching him in the mirror while being completely transfixed by the simple action until his next question whips you back into the present.

“Is it okay if I move this strap?” You glance down to see his large, dark-chocolate brown eyes looking up at you.

“S-sure,” you mumble back when you process the fact he’s referring to your underwear.

He hooks his thumb under the lace band and lifts it over your hip bone, moving it away so it won’t get wet. The stream of water ventures further into your inner thigh and the valley of your hip. Satisfied, he begins to glide the razor in precise strokes across your leg, pressing into your skin every so often with his fingers to get a close shave. It feels wildly intimate to have him do this, even if you’re convincing yourself that it's standard for his occupation.

You peek over your shoulder to see Josh staring at you, hands folded lifelessly in his lap across the screen of his tablet. His eyes are fixated on your backside, making you realize that your ass has been on full display for him the entire time. You’re thankful that you chose to wear this set tonight, especially the panties because of the heart clasp where the straps meet in the back. His gaze climbs up the curves of your body until it finally meets your eyes. He’s far enough away, but you swear you see a blush pinkening his cheeks.

You cock your head to the side, silently calling him out. His dumbfounded expression shifts into a devilish grin, but Jake interrupts his thoughts before he can say a word.

“Hey man, could you give me a hand over here?” Jake calls out over his shoulder as he dries you off with another paper towel.

Josh stands from his chair and pads over, well, nearly skips over to you in a matter of seconds. “What’s up?”

“Can you grab that stencil for me?” Jake asks him as he peels the gloves from his hands, pointing to the table, Josh hands them to his brother and walks behind you. He flips through them, and says, “So, I blew this up to a few different sizes.”

Josh’s fingers ghost up the small of your back to collect the parts of your dress that have slipped from your hold. You catch the pitchy breath that wants to escape your lips, but you can’t suppress the arching of your back to press your ass into him.

“You like that?” He whispers inches away from your ear, sending a shudder down the length of your spine.

Jake holds up the largest stencil to your leg for you to look in the mirror, walking you through the process. “I think this one is the best because of how it fills out the space here.” He wraps his now bare, yet steady hand around your hip, pressing softly into the supple flesh to rotate you slightly. He turns his head to the mirror as the pads of his fingers graze you, trailing across the sensitive skin of your upper leg with a barely-there touch.

“Black?” Josh taunts in an amused hum, quiet enough for only you to hear, “I definitely took you for a pink or red kind of woman.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and for a moment, you worry that your knees might buckle under you as Jake goes on explaining as though Josh isn’t practically purring in your ear. “It just flows perfectly with your curves here.” He meets your gaze directly with the darkened pupils and his bottom lip tucked under his teeth, giving your hip a deliberate squeeze. “Whaddya think?”

“He’s right, y’know? Your body was made for this.”

Jake’s crooked, half-smile causes you to believe that he might have heard his brother. It’s a miracle that you haven’t melted into the cracks of the floor beneath your feet. The ability for you to concentrate on anything is thrown out the window with Josh’s warm breath cascading across the back of your neck with his twin kneeling before you, but somehow you’re able to release a shaky sigh, “I think it looks amazing.”

He nods and looks up over your shoulder. “Josh?”

Josh hums in thought as he peers over you and down at the reflection of the stencil held up to your upper thigh. “I agree with that placement. It’s gonna look fucking sick.”

He’s so close that you can feel the tip of his nose against the shell of your ear. “Might have you bend over the table so I can double-check his work from the back.”

Your face flushes with heat and you clench your thighs together in need just as Jake sets the stencil on the table. He claps his hands together in excitement with a pleased breath of laughter to himself. “Fuck yeah. That settles it then.”

You catch the cool scent from his mint when he asks, “Still need my help with your dress?”

You don’t need to respond. He already knows the answer.

Jake gloves his hands again, taking his time to clean and prepare your skin with an antiseptic soap. He proceeds to spray a solution to the area and begins the process of laying down the stencil. You’re able to keep the strap of your thong out of his way with Josh helping you hold up the back of your dress. With a careful touch, Jake presses the thin transfer paper to your skin in its chosen spot and starts smoothing it across your leg with gentle sweeps of his palms.

He slowly peels it away to reveal the dark purple outline of your design, giving you a little preview of your new tattoo. He releases a heavy sigh of relief once the paper is completely off, “We even lucked out on only having to do the stencil once.”

“Don’t miss me too much.”

Just as quickly as it all happened, it was over. You’re left standing alone, feeling flustered and in disbelief that it even happened in the first place. As you question the grip you have on your sanity, Josh saunters off back to his work desk while Jake escorts you over to the table he has prepared for you.

“Go ahead and lay down on the table here. Get as comfortable as you can, but I know that’s easier said than done on those fucking things.”

You crawl up on the Saran-wrapped vinyl furniture that resembles a large massage table. It’s padded enough, but you can tell that it’s going to cause your muscles to ache after a few hours.

Once you find a relaxed position that’s mostly laying on your left side, you lift the bottom of your dress so that it’s cleared away from your hips and legs.

Jake’s back is to you as he sets up his station, and asks over his shoulder, “What kind of music do you like?”

You blank out for a moment, forgetting everything you’ve ever listened to, which makes him chuckle under his breath. “Think about it while I get this set up. I’ll have Josh play whatever you want on the Bluetooth speaker.”

You let nervous laughter flutter from your chest. “I saw you had a record player and a collection?”

He spins around in his chair with his face lit up, beaming with enthusiasm from your observation. “We do! We use it a lot when we aren’t in the middle of a session. It just really sucks having to get up and flip it over.” He lifts his hands to show you the tight black latex covering them. “Gloves and whatnot.”

“Oh, I gotcha.”

The next ten minutes go by quickly as he explains the process to you, step-by-step. While he rambles on, you look around the spacious room as he goes onto the next steps of wrapping his work area, and machine, filling tiny ink capsules, and gathering all his supplies together.

Once he has everything laid out in front of him just the way he likes, he scoots in close and flips on the machine, firing it to life. “Ready?”

You sigh through a weak smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

He pats your leg in reassurance, “The first few lines are the worst, but it gets better…well, until the very end. Just let me know when you need a break, okay?”

You reply with a final nod.

He’s right. The needle puncturing your skin is a hot thrumming scratch as if a pissed-off bee has stung you and decided to drag its ass across your flesh. It’s painful, but not unbearable. Soon, your adrenaline and endorphins kick in, and it subsides into a dull sensation after a few minutes — just as Jake predicted. You’re thankful he doesn’t have too heavy of a hand, and that he works quickly starting from the bottom portion of your thigh.

Josh has put on the music you requested before he starts to clean up around the space, assuming it’s to close up the shop for the evening. He doesn’t hold your attention long when Jake engages in some small talk, asking you mostly about your family, friends, and work.

When your answers begin to trail off and shorten, he picks up the slack in conversation. He talks about his passions outside of tattooing, which you find out are music and cooking. You learn that he’s a confident guitar player as he tells you about the band he’s formed with his brothers, including Josh, as well as Sam, who you find out is the shop’s piercer, and that they happen to play local gigs on the weekends.

You listen to his soothing voice over the harsh buzzing roar of the tattoo machine, allowing your eyes to close as you find the calm space tucked in your mind. As the minutes turn into over an hour, it becomes harder for you to stay in that place. He checks in on you a few times, but you’re adamant to say that you’re fine and that you don’t need the break he suggests.

You’re fighting your body’s signals, struggling to stay still on the table while he works. When a low groan of discomfort escapes you, he suddenly lifts the needle away from your skin, noticing that you’re grimacing in pain with your face buried into the crook of your elbow. He taps your shin instead of bringing the machine back to your leg, and you pull your arm away now that it has become damp from your hot tears.

You prop yourself up on your elbow, and the confused look you give him makes him take a deep breath and push away from the table. He looks at you with an expression that’s filled with concern like he’s tossing around the thoughts in his head for what to say. “So, here’s what I’ll do-“ He pauses when you stiffen, but holds eye contact. “We’ll get through this outline tonight and then I think I’ll have you come back in a week or so to do the shading and color.”

Come back in a week.

A pout slips through and tugs at your bottom lip.

He laughs softly through a joke to reassure you, “No charge of course.”

“You just want an excuse to see me again,” you quip back, allowing a weak smile to break through your disappointment.

He gives a half-hearted shrug with a nod. “That might be true, but it’s clear that I’m hurting you right now.”

You try to save face with a joke of your own, “Isn’t that what they say? ‘No pain, no gain?’”

His shoulders fall and he gives you a look of defeat. “Why is it always the pretty girls that say stuff like that?” He scooches the chair on its wheels, close enough that he’s almost hovering over you. “Listen, It’s only going to get worse and I can't in good conscience — torture you for the next couple of hours just to get it all done tonight.”

You’re a little upset at yourself for giving him the impression that you can’t sit through an entire tattoo, releasing a deflated sigh from your lungs, “…Okay.”

Sensing the instant shift in your mood, he adds, “Hey, you’re doing great, okay? I do not doubt in my mind that you could power through this with no problem….but I’m also not gonna lie to you and say it’s not killing me to see you cry.” A playful smile makes an appearance when he mumbles softly, “…at least like this.”

Your jaw drops and hangs open, making him laugh and raise his hands defensively.

He straightens and huffs, “Oh I’m sorry, is Josh the only one allowed to flirt with you?”

“I heard that!”

Jake’s eyes stay locked on you as you both smile at each other, and while completely ignoring his brother, he asks, “You’re okay with that plan?”

“I guess so,” you say through a heavy sigh.

“You’re killing it.” He sets the machine down and stretches his muscles while still sitting in his chair, wincing in pain. “Although, my back is fucking killing me.”

“Because he’s a bitch that doesn’t stretch as much as he should!”

You giggle at the brotherly banter, craning your neck to look for Josh. Jake lowers himself and whispers, and you nearly moan at the feeling of his breath hitting your skin, “Don’t listen to him. He complains more than anybody here.”

“Somehow I believe it.”

“You have no idea.” The scent of cinnamon hits your nose with how close his face is to yours. He doesn’t linger long before rolling back to his position by your legs to rinse off the area. “So, let’s take a fifteen-minute break and knock out the rest of this outline.”

You were hopeful that the short break would help, but it hasn’t. Your skin is so raw and sensitive that each pass of Jake’s steady hand feels like a white-hot knife being dragged across your leg.

Your hands are balled into fists as you desperately try to find your calm, happy place deep in the folds of your mind. Despite your best efforts, whimpers of pain and discomfort start leaving your mouth more freely.

You don’t notice Josh walking up to the table until you barely hear his voice over the machine. “Nice. It’s looking great already.”

Their voices seem distorted and far away like you’re stuck in a type of lucid dream state.

“I’m trying to wrap this up for her. She’s fucking over it, poor thing.”

Josh hums in agreement. “How long?”

Jake clicks his tongue a few times, wiping over the area with a paper towel that feels like eighty-grit sandpaper. “Hmmm…I dunno, maybe thirty if she’s got it in her.”

Josh grabs a chair, settles in on its cushion, and pulls it right behind the head of the table. He gently taps your arm, getting your attention, and coos softly, “You doing okay, sweet girl?”

You nod, sniffling back the tears.

He rubs your arm that’s still draped across the middle of your face. “You’re doing great. You think you got another half an hour in you?”

“Yeah,” you answer, muffling the sound of your voice into your forearm.

“Atta girl.” You can picture the smile on his face as he says it, making your heart skip a beat.

Josh hooks his left arm under your head to hold your right arm while rubbing circles across your shoulder and down your back. At first, you flinch and lock up, making him say, “Try to relax for us, it hurts the tenser you are.”

You welcome the embrace, melting into his comforting touch. He adjusts with each deep breath you take, and you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his bicep to smell his cologne and the fresh linen scent of detergent off his t-shirt.

You feel his breath hit your temple, “You’re such a badass. It’s gonna all be worth it, I promise.”

The next thirty minutes feel like a blur thanks to Josh distracting you from the pain. Although, the way you’re melting into his body with Jake’s arms pressing against your thighs stirs a unique feeling between your legs.

“Okay,” Jake says finally, shutting off the machine. The blanket of quiet calmness that drapes over you feels like a blessing. “I think you’re done for the night.”

Josh mumbles into your hair, “You fucking did it.” He loosens his embrace and slips his arms out from you.

Jake takes extra care in rinsing off your leg with the same green solution as before and dries it with paper towels. As soon as he feels you’re cleaned up enough, he offers a bare hand. “Wanna take a look?”

You’re pulled to a sitting position with his help, and you take a minute to stretch out your stiff muscles. Your feet hit the ground like you’re a newborn baby deer, almost toppling over if it isn’t for Jake holding onto your hands. He walks you to the mirror and your jaw drops to the floor when you see your reflection.

The mixture of emotions you’re experiencing hits you like a freight train. You’re not sure whether you should cry, laugh hysterically, or stand in complete shock in front of the mirror for hours — perhaps a combination of all three.

“Holy shit! Oh my god! This is incredible!” You take a few steps closer to the mirror, turning your leg side to side to see how the new addition of ink looks on your body.

He’s standing behind you, peering over your shoulder when he asks softly, “You like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” you squeal in excitement, turning around to face him. You’re not sure what comes over you at this exact moment, it could be a mixture of desire, tension, or even fatigue with some leftover adrenaline, or maybe it's just pure attraction to him that motivates you, but you reach out and cup his face in your hands. Bringing him forward, you smash your lips into his in a more aggressive kiss than either of you anticipated. He must not have expected it from how he flinches back slightly, but only for a second before he reconnects the kiss, deepening it.

He brings his hands up to weave into the tresses of your hair and snake around to the nape of your neck. The hours of build-up from sweet praises and gentle caresses are making you feel bold, and you flick your tongue across his lip in a hungry need for more.

His full, pouted lips part without a second of hesitation, and he slips his tongue across yours. You’re both trying to be mindful of the massive, fresh tattoo on your right thigh, but your impulses take over for a few seconds longer than they should’ve. You tug him forward with a hand around his hip, and for a fleeting moment, you feel him harden beneath his jeans when he presses up against your left hip.

Jake is the one to break the kiss through a low groan, eliciting a whine of complaint from you. He doesn’t let go, however, but instead smiles against your lips, releasing a breathy laugh, “Whoa. Hold on, dove.” The pad of his thumb sweeps over your cheek as the spiced, smokiness of his breath fans across your lips, “Trust me when I say we wanna fuck you, but I need to wrap your leg up first. Can’t go destroying my best canvas, can we?”

You’re not sure if you hear him correctly, so you pull back, confused, and mumble, “W-we?”

He cocks an eyebrow and licks across his bottom lip. “Oh, I just thought Josh here was making it painfully obvious how bad he wants you.”

You glance over Jake’s shoulder to see Josh sitting in the same chair as before, now with a leg crossed over the other and his hands locked behind his head. The expression he’s wearing on his face is a smug one, and he only responds to your questioning look with a playful grin and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

Your knees are wobbling for an entirely different reason as you walk the short path back to the table. The air is heavy to breathe, thick from the borderline-ferality between the three of you. Jake places a kiss on your lips while you lift yourself on its edge, and scoot back enough for him to wrap your leg.

The next sound you hear is the chair behind pushed out from under Josh’s legs as he stands to his feet.

He leans in on his extended arm placed behind you, and lowers himself to whisper in your ear once again. “I’m impressed. I was beginning to think you were just gonna walk right out of here after all that teasing.”

You want to say something back, but all you can do is mewl from the relief of cool water from Jake’s bottle rolling down the sides of your leg.

Josh nips the soft spot below your ear, causing you to lift your hips and clench your thighs before Jake places a firm hand on your belly. He breathes in a deeper voice that makes the wetness pool between your legs. “Are you gonna be a good girl? You’ve done such a good job for us tonight.”

He follows it with a sultry growl vibrating against the shell of your ear. “I bet that pussy is so fucking nice and wet, isn’t it? How bad do you want two cocks tonight, sweet girl?

Jake snaps at his twin, “Josh, would you cut it out? She’s squirming all over the place and I’m trying to lay this fucking Saniderm down.”

Josh huffs an irritated laugh, but behaves to the extent that he’ll settle for placing wet kisses on the path between your shoulder and your ear.

It takes all of Jake’s attention for him to apply the giant cling-wrap-like bandage to your tattoo with delicate precision. And knowing what’s about to transpire, he takes extra caution and adds a second gauze sheet over it for padding, securing it with black, medical foam tape.

Josh cheers the second Jake finishes wrapping you up, “Finally! I think it’s about time that we fucking celebrate. Wanna smoke?”

As much as you love to share a cigarette with him, you decide against it and shake your head to turn down his offer.

Without skipping a beat, Jake wheels his chair over to his work desk. “I have some whiskey that I only break out for special occasions. Want a drink instead?”

Josh places an open-mouth kiss on your neck as you are about to respond, causing the sound to come out more like a pitiful moan than a real word, “Sure.”

While his brother digs around the cabinets of his desk for the bottle of liquor, Josh walks around the table to stand in front of you, holding his open hand out for you to take, “C’mere, sweet girl.”

The staggered walk over to the couch is interrupted by Josh kissing you like he’ll never get the chance again. You can’t help but note how it’s completely different from his brother, how it’s not gentle or paced, but rather a clashing of tongues and hungry nips to your lips. It’s an insatiable type of hunger you’re not familiar with, but find that you’re craving every second of it.

He balls up the fabric of your dress and yanks it over your head in a swift motion, tossing it somewhere behind his back. He grabs a generous handful of your ass, squeezing it into his palm before sliding both hands along the curves of your body. His dull nails drag up the length of your back until his slender fingers meet the tiny clasps of your bra. With a flick of his tongue across your teeth paired with a precise pinch of his fingers, the garment is free from your chest.

He doesn't break the kiss as he guides you to the couch, laying you across the shined, leather furniture on your back. Slotting himself between your legs and propping his weight above you, the frenzied kisses finally leave your lips to trail across your jaw, to the sweet spot of your ear, and down the side of your neck. They’re wet and sloppy, touched by the warmth of his breath through each heavy pant against your tacky skin. The soft hairs of his mustache tickle you, turning you into a writhing mess as his lips explore the intricate details of your body. Acting from your desires, you hitch your left leg around his waist as he rocks his hips into you, catching his concealed erection against your lace-covered pussy. In the passion of tangled limbs, he’s still careful of your freshly tattooed leg draping off the side of the couch.

His lips graze from the hollow point of your throat, feeling the erratic beating of your heart against his mouth, down between your breasts until he wraps them around one of your bare nipples. Your hands fly up to find his face, and you let your fingers feel across the plush, buzzed hair along the sides of his head before they dive into the loose curls.

A pull of his locks between your curled fist sends a raspy groan from his mouth onto your skin with his nose pressing into the supple flesh of your breast. He laps his tongue over the sensitive bud, rolling it into the intoxicating heat of his mouth.

As much as he wants to stay here worshiping your naked chest for hours with no end in sight, he’s too impatient to finally taste you. His tongue leaves your overstimulated nipples to trail down the center of your abdomen, across your navel, and down to your left hip. He sucks a splotchy pink love mark on the thin skin, soothing the sting of it with a delicate lick of his tongue.

You couldn’t care less from the way his breath fans across your body, clinging to the wet lace of your thong between your thighs. He’s only inches away from where you want him most, and he’s making sure to keep you on edge as long as he can.

Between chasing the feeling of his mouth, and him sinking to the floor on his knees, you are now sitting upright against the back cushions of the couch. You’re in a special kind of daze, pulled under the current of your circumstances. You don’t even notice Jake’s presence until you feel his weight shifting across the leather next to you.

You watch as Josh leans back on his heels, and tugs his white t-shirt from his body. Your blurry, out-of-focus eyes start at his beautiful smile, scanning to his floral tattoos covering his neck, and down over where they connect to his chest piece where two sparrows are placed among a bed of flowers, one on each side. He takes away the chance for you to look farther down when he brings his lips to your inner thigh once again.

“I hope you didn’t forget about me, dove,” Jake croons in such a delectable voice that makes you feel like you’re vibrating from the inside out. His fingertips trace across the softness of your jaw just as Josh eases your thong carefully down your legs.

“No! No… not at all — oh my god!” You cry out the second Josh licks a languid stripe over your once-hidden clit. Somehow, you have forgotten about the existence of the piercing until he presses the tiny metal ball to your bundle of nerves, making you nearly leap in the air.

“Fucking show off,” Jake curses under his breath, causing Josh to chuckle with his face buried between your legs.

Feeding off the spark of jealousy, he guides you into a heated kiss with a hand around your neck, cupping your chin in his fingers so you feel the cool metal of his rings. It’s different from the first he had given, and as you fight in this sinful dance for dominance, it’s clear to you that he’s winning. Maybe it was meant to distract you from his brother, or maybe it’s due to the fact he’s no longer holding back like he was before.

He sucks a mark of his own beneath your ear, one that will be sure to turn a lovely shade of purple by tomorrow morning — another thing to remember him by. The sensation of Jake’s teeth raking across your throat as Josh rolls deliciously slow circles over your clit, overrides your brain’s basic functions. Every thought and every one of your senses is consumed by them, even to the point where the throbbing pain of your tattoo ceases to exist in your mind.

“Feeling a little thirsty?” Jake hums into your cheek as he caresses a middle finger from your throat and down the center of your chest.

“Mmhmm.’” The whimper you give is pathetic at best, just as he likes it.

An expert flick of Josh’s tongue makes you roll your head back and clench your thighs around his head, but the soreness in your muscles makes you wince. “Careful now, dove.”

Through your fogged vision, you peer through half-closed lids to watch Jake take a swig from the bottle. He leans in, placing his thumb on your bottom lip, signaling you to open for him. You’re eager, allowing him to spill the shot of whiskey into your waiting mouth. It burns in the best way as you swallow it down, feeling the warmth in your belly, with his palm resting around your throat. The grasp tightens right as he licks across your mouth, wiping away any of the liquor that has spilled from your swollen lips. He hovers right at your ear, sending the growl straight through you, “You do exactly as you’re told, don’t you?”

The way Josh is sucking your clit, babying it, nurturing the building orgasm in the safety of his mouth like no one has done before causes the bindings of your composure to untether without anyone there to save you.

Pleased with the sounds rattling from your chest, Jake taunts the two of you, “We can’t leave Josh out, can we?”

The mention of his name causes his eyes to open and flick up to meet yours. The lust-blown pupils are almost black with unbridled desire, abandoning that playful, rich-toffee color you admired earlier in the evening. Now that you are taking in the sight of him more clearly, you see his right hand wrapping so tightly around your leg, that his fingertips are pressing hard enough into the thickness of your thigh to leave little indentations. You’re able to make out the tattooed letters on his knuckles now that he has your focus, reading the letters, “L O V E” on each finger.

Jake brings the lip of the glass bottle to your sternum and tilts it slightly to pour the amber liquid onto your smooth skin. It drips down your belly in cascading streams, causing you to suck in a sharp gasp between your teeth from the sensation. Before you can react, Josh rushes to leave his spot on your clit, lapping up all the spilled alcohol that tries to trickle down your sides. Jake huffs an amused laugh that drapes across the sticky skin on your neck, “Another one of his party tricks.”

You’ve now brought a hand up into Josh’s hair, using the loose, messy curls as reigns. The smooth, undoubtedly-expensive bourbon mixing with the taste of you, and the way you’re yanking on his hair has flipped an internal switch. The movements of his tongue are no longer gentle and delicate, because he’s devouring you as if his life depends on it, and the lewd noises he’s creating should’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t too bothered to care.

Your eyes are clamped shut so tightly that bright splotches of color begin to burst behind your lids as the impending orgasm twists in your belly with each passing second. Jake is already taking note of the signals your body is giving, telling him that you’re close; watching how your cheeks and chest flush a vibrant pink shade, the raggedness of your breathing as your lungs ache for air, to the way you’re clawing at the top of his thigh and fabric of his shirt. Enamored by the sight of you, he leans in and bites at the tender flesh of your neck, sucking a pattern of marks over your breasts while he plays with your hardened nipples between his fingers.

Jake breathes in a sticky voice like it's coated in golden honey, “You enjoying yourself, sweet dove? I bet you taste fucking phenomenal. I gotta make sure to have you all to myself next time.”

Another pair of fingers tease around your entrance, causing a pathetic plea to rip its way from your lungs, “Josh…please!”

The teeth of his perfect smile press against you as he considers making you beg again since your voice sounds so pretty saying his name, but he decides to give in by slipping his fingers inside. The warm, wet strokes of his tongue paired with a coaxing curl of his two longest digits along your sweetest spot almost cause you to unravel in that very moment. The hard bridge of his nose is nestled right against your clit when he starts to thrash his head back and forth, not caring that you’re nearly ripping his hair out from his scalp.

It’s merciless.

The passion at which he throws you into the wall of your first orgasm is unprecedented. You could have been coming for three seconds or three hours on his tongue, but it made no difference in the end. You might’ve even blacked out, but you’re not entirely sure about that either. He stays there, regardless, with a clamped hand around your leg, licking you up until the point where overstimulation starts to take over.

When you finally regain the ability to open your eyes, you look down to see him smiling at you with the bottom half of his face drenched in your arousal. The shine on his lips glistens in the light, and it almost makes you sad when he starts to wipe it away with his hand.

“Now it’s my turn to play,” Jake declares into the humid air as he starts to shift his position on the couch.

You shake your head, and before he can ask why, you place your hands firmly on his chest and push him back toward the arm of the couch. He tumbles on his back, taking you with him. He doesn’t complain nor resist in the slightest from you taking charge. Returning the favor, you lick and bite your way down the vulnerable skin of his throat, feeling his adam’s apple move beneath your lips. Kissing your way along his jawline to his ear, you roll the silver hoop decorating his lobe along your tongue. He grabs you by the waist, rocking you over his lap while a whiny moan from him echoes in the room.

Breaking away from his neck, you sit back on his thighs and start pulling the embossed leather strap through the large buckle, trying your best not to get distracted by the outline of his cock hidden beneath the dark-wash jeans.

You whip the belt through the loops with an aggressive yank of your wrist and toss it somewhere across the wooden floor, hearing the metal clank against its surface. Once his jeans are unbuttoned, you slip your hand beneath the denim as well as the cotton of his boxer briefs. The exposed band of stomach showing beneath the bottom of his shirt quivers from your gentle touch. Your fingertips run around the warmth of his body, passing over the trimmed hair beneath his waist until you feel the suede-soft skin of his cock. You glance up to see his eyes fixed on your hand as tiny puffs of air leave his open mouth. There isn’t much room for your hand to move in his pant leg as you reach farther down, but you’re shocked by his length when you feel only him. Through an arguably smug laugh, he lifts and helps push his pants down enough that you’re able to release him from the restriction of his clothing.

With the sheer weight and size of him in your hand, you can’t help your eyes from widening in unfiltered awe. You begin stroking him, watching the beads of precome leak out and catch the light as they drip down. You settle on the couch, lowering your body across his legs in a more comfortable position.

Right as you’re about to bring the head of Jake’s cock to your waiting lips, you catch the sight of Josh walking past you with the zipper of his jeans opened, stroking himself in lazy pumps of his hand. He doesn’t let your eyes linger more than a second or two before he’s out of your line of vision.

I guess they really are twins.

Jake’s fingers sweep the fallen hair from your face to get a better look at you. You look up through your lashes just as you flick your pointed tongue along the underside of his length, watching as his eyes roll back behind his heavy lids.

It might be your only chance of the night, so you jump on the opportunity to tease him. The combination of barely-there brushes of your lips and kitten-licks of a soft tongue is making him shift and squirm beneath you. It’s obvious he’s fighting the urge to take control as his fingers fidget on his lap in building anticipation for what’s to come.

“Come on, dove. You know I’ve been thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around me all night.” His voice is thick, laden with pure eroticism.

The confession disguised as a praise sends a wave of aching need for more. Without wasting another second, you guide him along your flattened tongue, swirling it around every inch of his length. Adjusting to how he fills your mouth, you bob your head slowly with your hand stroking what your lips can’t reach.

Your attention is drawn away from Jake when you feel the weight of Josh’s knee pressing into the leather as he climbs on the couch behind you, but you still don’t stop the movements of your head. His fingertips are the first thing to touch you, making your back arch from the feeling. They dance across your spine, tracing down the finer details which causes a pitched moan to vibrate around Jake as he nudges the back of your throat. A firm hand kneads your ass, and you swear you can hear his breathing start to quicken over the sound of Jake’s.

You’re startled when his open palm cracks against it from a forceful slap without warning. It stings as the blood rushes to the surface to leave a reddened print, making you clench your thighs together.

It’s when those fingers roll over your overstimulated clit, that you gasp, gagging on Jake’s cock. The sound and feeling cause a curse to slip from his parted mouth, followed it a loud groan, “Fuck! That dirty little mouth of yours.”

If the tears welling in your eyes that coated your lashes didn’t cloud your vision, you would be able to see Jake’s head whipping forward with his thick brows pinched together when he pushes your head down on him.

With his hand wrapped around the thick base of himself, Josh taps the head teasingly on the swell of your ass a few times. You wiggle your hips, chasing him as he inches closer and closer before his twin takes notice of his intentions.

Annoyed with him, Jake scoffs, “Why do you get to fuck her first?”

Josh huffs a dry laugh, quipping back, “Because I do everything first, you prick. I’m five minutes older.”

“That’s a stupid fucking rea-Ah! Oh, fuck!” A certain lick of your tongue as you ignore their banter causes him to grunt the curses mid-sentence, stopping the thought in its tracks. He pauses to collect himself, gripping your hand as he warns through shallow breaths, “Slow down, baby, or else you’re gonna make me cum soon.”

Josh takes the cue and glides himself into your pussy with a deliberate push of his hips. A ragged, borderline-primal growl rips from the back of his throat the second he bottoms out. The position of his hands slips from your hips down to your waist with a roll of his body with his cock buried deep inside.

He whines, succumbing to throes of pleasure already, “Oh my — fuck! Fuck, you feel so so good, baby.”

The feeling elicits a similar reaction from you, making you crane your neck so you can watch him slowly retreat from you. His eyes are fixed down at himself being coated with you, slick from your arousal. The unhurried push back into you causes his eyelids to flutter closed. The lean muscles of his abdomen, ones hidden beneath the tattooed skin, flex, and twitch with each stroke. The image of the two large roses on each of his hips, placed on the curvature of his slender stomach, snags your attention the longest before Jake’s fingers hook your chin.

The slow, subtle grinding of his hips transforms into powerful thrusts, knocking the air from your lungs and causing Jake to slip from your mouth. With your face resting on the softness of his tummy, the strokes of your hand are listless at best. Your cries mix with the distinct sounds each time Josh’s ink-decorated thighs connect with your ass. The broken phrases from him are incoherent, but by the way his movements are starting to stagger in rhythm, he’s closer than you expect.

Suddenly, with his hand gripped tightly around your waist, he pulls himself from you. You might have complained about the empty feeling you’re left with if you didn’t feel his knuckles brush across your skin with each frantic stroke of his loose fist. His trimmed nails scratch along the small of your back as he falters through a violent shudder, and spills his warm release over the curve of your ass with a breathy string of curses tumbling from his lips.

Breaking the silence between you, Josh mutters in a strained voice as he pats the other cheek, “Don’t move.”

He stands to his feet, collecting himself through steady breathing as he walks across the room completely naked without a care in the world. Jake takes the moment to tip your chin up and lean down to place his lips to yours, persuading you into a sensual kiss. You don’t dare move an inch as you feel Josh’s release dripping down the back of your leg. Thankfully, he returns within the minute, bringing a warm, damp towel to clean you with.

After his brother is done taking care of you, Jake bolts upright on his knees, sending you crashing into Josh’s chest, pinning his brother beneath you against the opposite arm of the couch.

You erupt into a fit of giggles as Josh curses from the new position you’re both in. You’re wearing an expression of shock, but Jake only reciprocates with an amused raise of his left brow. “You really thought I was gonna be patient all night?”

Just as Josh had done minutes beforehand, Jake reaches back between his shoulder blades, and rips his black t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere onto the floor into a crumpled pile.

It’s the first time you’re able to see his bare torso so close to your face. Even so, your eyes can’t seem to focus on one thing in particular with the lack of lighting, but what you’re able to see is the distinct outline of a skull with a sword through it in the center of his chest, surrounded by roses and plumes of smoke. It would take you hours of tracing over every line, every inch of the art-covered skin to fully appreciate it all.

He looks above you, locking eyes with his twin through a silent exchange as if they communicated in an unspoken language. Josh hums in approval, and rubs his hands down the length of your arms before wrapping his long fingers around your wrists. He lifts your hands, and folds them over each other to pin them both behind your head.

Jake’s eyes find yours for a second, and you swear you can see darkness swirl within the irises like the unforgiving waters of a rough, uncharted sea. His gaze floats down from your face, pausing on your rising and falling chest before it eventually settles between your legs. He wraps his arm around your left thigh, leaving your right untouched, and pulls you up onto the tops of his legs.

He slips the head of his cock over your clit, causing it to shine in your wetness. With a nudge of his fingers at his base, he guides himself in a teasingly slow pace down to your entrance. You’re impatient and desperate, lifting your hips to take him in. He bites his lip through his intense focus, finding that he doesn’t even have to push, and lets the release of your muscles do the work for him. He slides in effortlessly, stretching you inch-by-inch to the hilt. You both exhale through a strangled gasp, and he stills for a minute, feeling the tightness of your walls clench around him.

His eyes close just as his head rolls forward with a breathless laugh escaping his chest, “I fucking hate when he’s right, but oh my god your pussy is incredible.”

Josh sings into the tresses of your hair, “Like heaven.”

The skull on his hand stares back at you when he places his palm on your belly while he thrusts deep and slow in each calculated roll of his hips. The added pressure on your stomach as the head of his cock brushes against the special spot with the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit drags you off the edge into your second orgasm.

Your upper arms ache as they strain through each flexing muscle you have to endure. It seems rather inconsequential because you don’t even feel like you're present with your physical body with time itself feeling irrelevant. Sounds become muffled like you’ve stuffed balls of cotton into them, even if at one point you’re sure you were screaming.

Jake’s not far away from that place himself, catching up quickly as he rides through the crashing waves of your climax. You wish to have each sway of his tangled hair or how a thin sheen of sweat has coated his body burned into your memory.

You can see the internal battle he’s fighting with his temptations from the look in his eyes that are hidden behind his furrowed brows. He hisses through clenched teeth when reluctantly pulls out from you, and because of the timing, it doesn’t even take a full stroke of his hand before the ropes of his warm come splatter across your stomach. You flinch at the feeling, and Josh releases his hold around your wrists so you can relax them by your sides.

The three of you take the following minutes to come down from the collective high as your breathing starts to calm down to a normal level. No one has said anything for a while, so you decide that you’ll be the one to break the tension first, “So… do you take credit cards?”

Josh barks out a hoarse laugh, “Shut the fuck up.”

Jake adds to the laughter, and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He slowly maneuvers off the couch to a standing position beside you. “I think it’s safe to say this one might be on the house.”

Tucking himself back in his jeans while simultaneously looking for the washcloth, he turns to his brother and instructs, “Josh, go ahead and disinfect this couch again.”

Josh groans in annoyance while falling back against the arm of the couch, pushing his sweaty curls from his forehead.

You’re given a new towel to wipe the evidence from your stomach as Jake collects your dress and underwear off the floor and hands them to you. “Here, dove. The bathroom is down the hall and to your left if you want to clean up a bit.” He then looks to Josh, addressing him directly, “Let’s lock up so we can get her back home for round two.”

You feel like you’re weightless, floating across the room, and only making it halfway to the bathroom when you hear Josh blurt out, “Round two?!”

I think we have something here.

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streamingcolors-gvf · 1 year

Text

Skin Deep - Part 2

Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack

Shout out to @kiszkasun for providing tattoo edits of the boys 🖤

@pennylanefics for the beautiful tatt!jake moodboard that sparked the idea.

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka

Warnings: cursing, sexually explicit content - MINORS DNI!! (Oral m!receiving, fingering, hand stuff - m!recieving, dirty talk, praise kink, spit kink, super light choking if you squint, biting)

A/N: This has become a twin series (smut with both of them for those unaware, so if this isn’t your thing, keep scrolling) , and I found that I had to break up some of the chapters due to the size of the fic. So I don’t want Jake girlies coming after me. There will be plenty of Jake interactions coming up. I PROMISE. Feedback and your support is always appreciated. Hope y’all enjoy this installment 🖤

Thank you @asparrowofthedawn for all the Pinterest diving, daily support and inspo for this fic. It doesn’t go unappreciated. Also a thank you to @capturethechaos for letting me bug them with my rambling thoughts and updates on this story.

Masterpost, Part 1

The first thing you realize when you pry your eyelids apart, is that you’re not in your bedroom. The luxury cotton blend of high-thread count sheets brushing up against your cheek aren’t the ones fitted across your mattress. The mustard-yellow painted wall isn’t one you recognize, and the soft light filtering in through the windows doesn’t happen at home. You blink away your blurred vision until it comes into focus, finally seeing the vintage movie posters decorating the room.

As you’re slowly dragged into consciousness, you hear the faint sounds of snoring beside you. It startles you at first, making you turn abruptly to prop yourself up on your elbow. You realize it’s Josh facing away from you, laying across his stomach. He’s still sleeping soundly, face hidden and tucked away into the crook of his elbow.

The memories of the night prior flood your mind, and the shock of what transpired runs through your body, making you huff out a breath of disbelief. Reeling from it, you take the moment of peace to look around his room, something that felt rather intimate despite everything that has already happened between you.

A wooden artist desk sits in the corner, locked in an upright position with sheets of toned paper taped to its surface. On the shelves above it, metal tins sit filled with a collection of pens, paintbrushes and markers. A large tapestry is tacked to the wall on the far side. Exotic potted plants are scattered around the room, resting on shelves, onto the floor and even hanging from the ceiling — giving the space a sense of life.

Soon, your eyes find Josh again. The blanket is draped across his waist, giving you the view of his bare back for the first time. Most of Josh’s body is touched by ink, but the expansive piece captures your attention as he takes in the steady breaths of slumber. Starting in the center of his spine, the floral mandala spreads out into two massive lotus flowers on each shoulder blade. You reach out, tracing his warm skin with a feather-light touch of your fingers along the bold linework of each petal. It’s ambitious, still unfinished with only a fraction of the design filled with the rich, vibrant colors.

Pitched hums vibrate in his chest as he starts to stir when your fingertips travel between his shoulders and up to where the tattoo ends at the nape of his neck. You quickly retreat your hand to your chest when he stretches and rotates onto his back. A heavy sigh leaves him, and for a second you think he might be awake, but the way his mouth parts with a hushed snore tells you otherwise.

His tousled curls have lost their shape, falling over his brow with his head buried into the pillow. Long lashes kiss the high point of his cheeks that have been painted pink with the spring sun.

You have never been in denial about how attractive you found him. Now, as you look upon him in his purest and most vulnerable form, you can truly appreciate his beauty. Even to the tiny scar beside his mouth or the one nicked below his left brow — tiny imperfections that tell a story for a moment in time.

Maybe you’re still riding on the wave of impulsivity that led you to this predicament in the first place when you lean into him. The kiss you place below his ear is what makes his arm slip around your back to pull you in tighter. The tip of your nose brushes against the crushed-velvet of his buzzed hair, ticking you in the process. A sleep laden groan rumbles in his throat, vibrating against your lips while you explore the sharp line of his jaw. The late morning light peeking through the blinds catches the wet marks you’re leaving across the tattoos covering his neck. You let the tip of your tongue follow the lines of the petals, breathing him in as if you could smell the sweet scent of the inked peonies. The feeling of your mouth brings him a step closer to consciousness, eliciting a heavy sigh from his chest.

Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you trail your hand down his bare, tattooed chest, passing over your fingers over the sparrows and bed of poppies. The muscles of his stomach quiver from your sensual touch, making his hips shift against the mattress. You’re expecting the waistband of at least a pair of underwear, but instead, you feel the trimmed patch of hair when you slip your fingers beneath the blanket.

He’s warm and soft cupped in your hand. You’re gentle with your touch, keeping him safe as you guide him into a state of wakefulness. A shudder rolls through him with a moan that cracks through the thick air settling in his bedroom. His fingertips press into your side, and you feel him harden in your palm with every steady beat of his heart.

You notice the lustful scent of sex still lingering on him as you place another heady kiss to his collarbone, quickly giving into the urge to bite along the thin, delicate skin. His hand slides up your back and through your hair, wrapping around the nape of your neck, and gives it a firm squeeze with his fingers as your teeth graze across him.

His back arches up from the bed once your tongue creates a path down to his nipple, following it with a louder groan when you flick across it.

“Morning.” The dreamy crackle of this voice delivered to you in a heavy sigh makes your elbows weak as you crawl down his body. Your eyes flick up to see him squinting through barely-open lids right before he rubs the sleep from his lashes with the heel of his palm.

You blow a stream of cool air through pursed lips, watching it harden instantly. A breathy whine falls from his open mouth as he writhes beneath you, bucking his hips to drive himself through your hand in an act of impatience. He’s no longer dormant, twitching in the loose grasp of your fingers as he stiffens with each passing second.

“Good morning,” you hum through your open-kisses down his sternum. You nip at the soft flesh of his belly below his navel with a deliberate pump of your fist over his length.

Within the short amount of time spent with him, you are starting to think nothing about this man could surprise you. However, you’re proven wrong when you pull the duvet away from his stomach and discover something peculiar that catches your eye, making you pause the movement of your hand. The permanent illustration you find yourself studying for longer than you’d admit, is a pair of cherries placed a few inches from the base of him — a hidden treasure below his waist, tucked between the divot of his hip and where you were about to place your lips. Two green leaves sprout from the stem, and its vivid shade of red shines in the illustrator’s choice to dip them in a glaze of sticky syrup that runs down the round edge of the fruit in three seductive drips. A banner ribbon wraps around the middle of them, taunting you with the words ‘Bite Me’ in bold font.

You huff a laugh of shock as your fingers feel over the smooth skin. “This has got to be the sluttiest thing about you.”

He’s peering down at you through drowsy lids, his arm now bent behind his head with a smug grin plastered across his stupidly handsome face. He draws in his bottom lip between his teeth before he asks in a raspy tone that makes your chest tighten, “You like it?”

My god, you do.

You’re not willing to reveal your hand to him just yet, so you deflect with a question of your own. “Who gave you this?”

Laughter suddenly breaks free into the quiet room, the sound throaty and heavy when it hits your ears. “I don’t kiss and tell, baby.”

You allow your mind to wander with the thoughts of him getting it, picturing how he might’ve been in a similar position to the one you were in last night. You imagine how he looked with the band of his pants pulled down just enough as the strokes of the needle made contact with the sensitive skin. Something about this tattoo in particular has a feminine touch, and you can’t help the pang of slight jealousy hitting your chest and curiosity from entering your mind.

Even though your weak attempt at a bluff is starting to crumble, you stay vigilant with a purposeful click of your tongue. “Pity.”

Before he’s able to respond with a witty remark, you roll your tongue across the tattoo as if there really was sweet juice from the cherries that could wet your taste buds. An almost feline-like purr rumbles in his throat as you lick your way to the other side. His fingers brush your hand that you’ve draped across his stomach before reaching up to touch your hair.

You suck at the tender skin while slowly stroking him. The lapping of your tongue and nipping of your teeth, paired with the deliciously slow flick of your wrist, causes his fingers to leave you.

A whispered curse flutters from his lips, but your eyes remain closed while you keep your mouth sealed around him. A sharp hiss through his teeth transforms into a moan of pleasure as the familiar blushed splotches of your own cherry-sized love-mark form on the surface.

“Something to remember me by,” you whisper in admiration as you catch your breath and wipe the string of saliva from your lip.

A sighed hum breaks into giggles. “I don’t think I’m ever forgetting you.”

The thought makes you blush and a wave of heat rises from your belly to your chest, but you decide that exploring the new influx of feelings he has created for you would have to wait another time.

“So, being the better-looking twin, I have the nicer dick, ri- oh…” He trails off, falling into a sort-of trance from your casting spell, staring at the bead of spit dribble from your bottom lip. It falls onto the pretty pink head – a lovely shade that matches the one of his lips —and starts to drip down before you swipe it across with your thumb.

Now slick from your mouth, you slide your hand around his length with a rolling twist of your wrist. A violent shudder rolls through him as the mumbled praise leaves his mouth, “Fuck…that’s so good. Just like that.”

You tease him like this through a few deliberate strokes until you decide to bring your lips to him. A devilish grin curls at the upturned corners of his lips with brazen confidence brimming through each word. “You gonna suck my cock, baby?”

You flash him a coy smile, but otherwise stay silent to let your actions do the talking for you. He watches your every move, but can barely contain the broken whimper within his clamped mouth when you finally lick that blissful spot beneath the tip. You’re making sure to keep your eyes locked on him as you push him inch-by-inch along your flattened tongue. It’s obvious he’s fighting the temptation to close them, but the way his dark brows pull together and how his mouth parts through panting breaths tells you everything you need to know.

Just when he expects you to stop, you don’t. Instead, you keep nudging him farther and farther until he hits the back of your throat and the tip of your nose brushes ever-so-slightly against the trimmed hair.

You have to suppress the gag threatening to creep up with deep breaths while allowing your eyes to finally close. He’s pressing himself past the point of your limit, throbbing desperately in the wet warmth of your mouth. You pause for a few moments, letting him soak in the consuming feeling of his cock nestled as deep as it can go. Lifting your head from him, you lick up the streams of drool that have leaked past your lips, cleaning him in a less-than-subtle act of depravity. He takes in the sight of your little show, groaning through clenched teeth, “Holy shit. That feels fucking amazing.”

Your thighs clench in an aching need from the sound of his deeper voice. You swirl your tongue around the head in a changing pattern of circles, tasting him as if he’s a lollipop that shares the same sugary-sweet flavor of those cherries. He sucks in a sharp breath, and a praise hits your ears through a strangled moan, “Yes…yes, baby, oh my god!”

A glance up through your lashes gives you the chance to see him throwing his hands back into the flattened mess of curls buried into the pillow. You stare, fixating on the way the muscles in his arms flex and how his chest rises and falls rapidly from ragged breaths. Something catches your eye, and you realize it’s the light reflecting off the tiny metal ball of his tongue ring swiping across his lip. His eyelids are clamping hard enough to form a small crease between his brows as his open mouth creates a perfect “O” shape. “Oh god…”

The rhythmic bobbing of your head is sloppy, and the borderline-pornographic sounds echoing around the walls of his room would have been more-than shameful to anyone else but the two of you. You find that you have to wrap your hand around what your mouth can’t quite reach, just like you had done with Jake the night before. A ragged cry catches in the back of his throat, but he quickly clears the noise with a forceful grunt, “Fucking…Christ!”

You know he’s teetering on the very edge by the way his stomach muscles are flexing from the rapid build of his orgasm. The slippery pop! of him from your lips yanks his focus back to you in a heartbeat, and the lust-drunken daze swirling in his blown-out pupils makes you giggle for a moment. Although, his eyes don’t stay locked on you for more than a few seconds as they flit behind heavy lids while you continue to pump a tight fist around him.

The delightful squeeze of your fingers around the swollen tip with each upward stroke of your wrist is dancing the line of pleasure and torture for him. He doesn’t dare complain, but the agonizing pace you're choosing causes a sheen of sweat to form on his bare chest that’s now heaving up and down like broken bellows.

He taps your arm in a panic to signal defeat, accepting the complete loss of control. His strained voice is breathless, cracking through tightened vocal cords across a dry tongue, “I can’t…I-I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Not wanting to waste another second, you take him back into the silken feeling of your mouth, enveloping him in its addicting warmth. The way his cock twitches, hardening past the point you thought was physically possible, reveals that his words are nothing but the truth. You’re determined to drive him as deep as he can go with a purposeful flick of your tongue along the base. It doesn’t take longer than a few seconds for his shaky fingers to wrap around your wrist as he succumbs to the tidal wave of his release. If there was any doubt whether his brother could hear you both before, it’s gone now with Josh crying out his mantra of profanities. With a faltering lift of his hips, the heat of his come hits the back of your throat with a force you don’t expect, making it spasm through every swallow. You drink every last drop of him down without question until he’s on the brink of overstimulation.

You pepper kisses the raised point of his hip as he comes down from his euphoric high. The whimpered exhales bubble into giggles as he wipes the hair back from his sweaty brow. He props himself up on an elbow, and looks down at you with that grin plastered across his flushed face.

He huffs an exaggerated breath, “Okay, I’m a little upset Jake experienced that first.”

You roll your eyes in feigned disapproval, “You can’t be serious.”

“C’mere.” He reaches forward to grab your wrist, guiding you onto his lap as he starts to sit up on the bed. You’re both careful in your movements with the fresh tattoo on your leg.

Despite the soreness of your thigh, you settle into the position with a natural ease, taking his face into your cupped palms. The apples of his cheeks are blushing a rosy hue, radiating with a unique glow that could only come from a post-sex haze. Something else grabs your attention when he yawns, and for a second you doubt yourself. You know it's not your mind playing tricks when he wipes his fingers across his mouth, and you’re able to see it for the second time. Acting out of pure impulse, you grasp his bottom lip between your thumb and finger to get a better look.

There it is.

A badly faded tattoo inked into the pink flesh of his inner lip. You think you’re mistaken at first, so you blink a few times and squint to make sure you’re reading the letters correctly. Despite the arguably poor line work, you can still make out the bold lettering ‘PU$$Y”.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” you scoff in disbelief, but before you can release his lip, he pretends to bite at your fingers until you swat him away.

His hands are roaming freely over your ass and up your back when pouts out the lip in question. “What? You don’t like that one?”

“I think I stand corrected. That is probably the sluttiest thing about you.” Snorting a laugh, you rub the muscles of his shoulders until your arms cross behind his neck.

He sighs at the satisfying feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp. “I was actually looking to get it removed here soon.” His eyes flutter closed as he cranes his neck back, similar to a cat leaning into a hand to be petted. “I can’t say it's my proudest moment.”

Withdrawing your hands from his hair, you ask out of curiosity, “So what’s the story behind this one?”

You swear you see embarrassment flash across his features from how he chews at his lip. “Ah well, besides being nineteen, alone with a bottle of tequila and access to a tattoo machine? I’m afraid there’s not much more to the tale than that.”

You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the barely-detectable shift in his mood, and guilt starts to stir in your gut from fear that you’ve struck a nerve with the topic. You brush your fingertips across his slightly-downturned mouth, asking in a hushed voice, “You did it yourself?”

He hums his answer, smiling from your affectionate touch, but his eyes remain focused on his hands that are busy caressing up your sides. Maybe he’s distracting himself, or even you, when he cups your breasts, giving them a playful squeeze in the palms.

You whine at the feeling, and squirm in his lap as you stroke the trimmed hair of his mustache with your index finger, humming in thought. “Ya’know, I think you should shave this.”

He chuckles, sending the warm, airy laughter across your chest. “Why? Don’t like that either?”

“No! No, I do,” you insist in a too-loud voice, and the kiss placed on your collarbone nearly made the next thought disintegrate on your tongue. “But I also think it’s a shame to cover up your beautiful lips. A clean-shaven look would suit you.”

“Hmmm. I might have to consider that.” He draws the tip of his nose up the column of your extended throat, breathing you in through a deep inhale. “Might make up for the shitty lip tattoo.”

You’re putty in his hands, forgetting where you are, or even what day it is when he kisses up your neck as he roams across the contour of your ass and between your legs. You groan in response, “Maybe there’s nothing wrong with stating your favorite meal.”

His response to your sentiment is a heavy breath that verges on the edge of a growl hitting your throat. His hands quickly find their place around your waist to rock you forward enough to feel his cock twitch and harden beneath you, making you giggle in shock, “Already?”

He scoffs, pulling away just far enough to give you a view of his face, “I'm sorry. I wasn’t aware that your expectations of me included not getting hard when you sit naked on my dick.”

That look he’s giving you. The same one you saw the first day you met him. It’s the one that could sell you on anything he desired.

You only roll your eyes in response before glancing at the nightstand in search of your phone. “What time is it?”

“Hmm… I dunno. But for some reason I don’t care,” he sighs with an unbothered lilt in his voice, and tries to bring you in for a kiss, but you pull away before his lips touch yours.

He rips his head away, brows raised at you in disbelief, huffing a sharp puff of air through his nose. “I’m offended.”

“Well, I’m sorry to offend, but I really have to brush my teeth, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let it slip just this once because that’s not a bad idea. I’m sure there’s a pack of toothbrushes in the bathroom somewhere.” A mischievous grin forms on his face.“ And I’m never one to turn down a shower with a beautiful woman.”

You slide off his lap and off the edge of the bed, and throw a quip over your shoulder, “Who says you’re joining?”

The sharp smack of his hand to your ass elicits a high-pitched squeak from your throat while sending you forward in the direction of his door. You pad across the wooden floor — barefoot and naked — to exit his bedroom and walk into the hall. Not remembering much from the night before, the layout of their house is foreign to you. There is a closed door across from Josh’s, which you’re quick to remember is Jake’s, but as you turn left to wander in search for the bathroom, you see an open door.

You flip on the switch, and take in the sight when your eyes adjust to the new lighting. You were in here at one point in the night, but the little details of the space were the last thing on your mind given the circumstances. Now, in the light of day and a clearer conscience, you’re able to absorb everything more clearly.

To your left is a modern style black vanity with two white, porcelain basins resting on its surface. Across from you is a massive walk-in shower encased in glass walls. Golden bathroom fixtures contrast the almost-black, gray hexagonal tile work that lines the inside of the shower.

You slowly venture in, feeling the cool tile beneath your bare feet as you make your way to the large mirror. You’re startled by your reflection, scanning over the vast collection of hickies and love marks that are scattered across your skin in an array of shapes, sizes and colors. Spreading the bruised flesh with your fingertips to gauge the damage, you can’t even begin to map out which ones are left by Josh and where Jake’s begin.

Josh enters the bathroom a few seconds later, and your eyes are instantly drawn to his image in the mirror. He’s clearly comfortable with his own nakedness, shuffling behind you, still-half hard as he rummages around the drawer in search of the spare toothbrush. You turn away, blushing awkwardly at the sight, even though you just had him in your mouth minutes ago. Something about the action felt rather domestic for only knowing him for such a short amount of time.

He offers a basic, standard-issue toothbrush he pulled from the torn plastic packaging. Plucking it from his fingers, you let the sarcastic comment slip, “A stash of toothbrushes for all your guests?”

Your criticism comes out harsher than you intend, causing him to take a step back in order to look you over. He tilts his head, showing the genuine confusion pulling his brows together. He takes a few seconds to process your words until a special glint shines in his amber-colored eyes. “Am I hearing a hint of jealousy on your tongue?”

Was it?

Your mouth falls open to reply, but before you can utter a single word, he takes a step forward with open arms, interrupting your thoughts. “Here, let me take care of that for you.”

He takes your face, holding it between his hands to plant a kiss directly on your mouth, but you fight back by wriggling away, working to dodge the attempts to lock lips. You throw your head back, squealing in protest, “Josh!”

Giggles burst through his chest as he tries shushing you, “Shhh…I think a kiss will make it all better.” His lips connect with your cheek, causing his words to mumble into the flesh, “I’ve been so so good. I think I deserve it, baby.”

With his hands weaving into your hair at the nape of your neck, you groan from the temptation, but stay steadfast in your choice to wait, huffing through a dry laugh, “I literally just had your cum in my mouth. Let me brush first.”

He nips at the apple of your cheek, savoring its sweetness with a teasing lick. “I love when you talk dirty to me.” Pulling away a few inches, he gives himself enough space for his eyes to drift down to your lips. With his naked body wrapping around yours, you’re able to feel the warmth of him pressing into your hip. “Also bold of you to assume I don’t enjoy that sort of thing.”

You hide the blush creeping up to your face with a playful shove to his chest and laughter loud enough to wake up Jake, “Oh my god! You’re fucking gross.”

Josh flashes a cheeky grin as he releases you. “Yeah, well, I think you secretly like that about me.”

“Bold of you to assume that I like you at all. I could be in it just for the perks.” He gives you the side eye as takes an electric toothbrush from its charging dock on the counter — one that's white and sleek in design. Although, the only response he gives you is a bout of throaty laughter while he swipes a line of toothpaste across the bristles before handing the tube over.

He pops it into his mouth, mumbling around the brush stuck in the side of his cheek, “You have a funny way of showing your indifference.” The comment is sealed with a wink, and he turns away from you toward the shower.

You copy his actions, brushing your teeth while watching him pull a stack of bath towels out from the cabinet. He breaks away to spit into the other basin before turning on the water inside the shower. It takes incredible effort for you not to giggle at the lovely view of his little butt jiggling as he moves around the bathroom.

After placing the toothbrush back into its designated spot, he hops into the shower while you’re preoccupied with rinsing. You finish up, pull open the door to see his back facing you as he stands under the far-side showerhead. “Without me? Now I’m offended.”

His laughter bounces around the slate-toned tile, “I was getting cold, and things shrivel, okay?” He looks over his shoulder, squinting from the water rolling over his face. “Can't let you see me in such a vulnerable state.”

You walk into the soothing heat of the water, making your way over to him. Slipping your arms around his waist, and using a particularly flirty voice, you tease into his exposed ear, “Oh no. We can’t dent that giant ego of yours, can we?”

He hums, sending the thrumming sound into your chest, and takes your hand in his. He pulls it across his cock, making you feel the weight and size of him stiffening along your fingers. “You think my ego is dented, baby?”

He turns within your embrace to face you, and without another second of hesitation, crashes his lips into yours. He’s quick to lick into your mouth, making you realize that waiting the few extra minutes to kiss you has created an insatiable hunger within him. You find yourself chasing the cool metal of his jewelry as his tongue dances across yours — its existence acting as an ill-kept secret he chooses to reveal in the most opportune moments.

You could kiss him for hours, exploring each other under the falling water and rising steam of the shower. You’re not even sure how much time has passed when the sound of knuckles rapping against the glass startles you from the daydream, making both of you turn your heads to find the source.

The fogged door to the shower opens, and he instantly grumbles in frustration, “Are you fucking kidding me? We’re having a moment here, dude.”

You peer over your shoulder to see Jake stepping in completely nude. Unbothered by Josh’s annoyance, he chuckles, “And let you two hog all the hot water? I don’t think so.”

Josh releases his arms around you, albeit reluctantly, so you can turn around to face his brother. You watch as he stands under the opposite shower-head, tipping his head back to let the spray wet his long hair. The water running over their tattooed skin resembles an artist’s coating of glossy varnish brushed across an oil painting. Whereas the vibrant colors on Josh’s body are deeply saturated, popping in vibrancy against the golden-tone of his skin, Jake’s black and gray work has the appearance as though the art has been dipped in fresh ink.

You’re staring.

You know you are, but you can’t stop your wandering eyes from exploring the details of his naked body in front of you if your life depended on it. You can see the silver hoops of his ears now that his soaked hair clings to his neck and shoulders. Rivers of hot water have been created, flowing down the contours of his chest, pouring down his torso like a waterfall. It carries your eyes down past his navel and between his legs, causing the bubbling feeling to rise inside you.

Aside from the obvious distraction that’s leaving you bashful, you’re able to admire the unveiled tattoos on his thighs now that they are bare and in your view. His right showcases the portrait of a beautiful mermaid, graced with cascading waves of floating hair, supple, perked breasts that are wrapped in a blanket of fanned fins. The left reveals a more violent scene, depicting a massive, brooding pirate ship that’s split in two by the Kraken, pulled into the depths of the ocean. The sea creature’s long tentacles swirl around in different directions, wrapping around the lean muscles of his upper leg.

Jake rolls his head forward, causing the water to run down the sharp planes of his face, coaxing you with an open hand. You take his fingers without question, letting him tug you forward in such a swift movement that your chest collides with his. He chuckles, then speaks in his lowest voice against your cheek, one that’s still loud enough for you to hear over the running water, “I was a little sad to see that my little dove had flown to another bed this morning.”

Josh’s hand, now slick with soap, slips down the center of your spine when he throws a prodding remark over your shoulder to his twin, “I think it’s quite obvious that I’m clearly her favorite.”

Jake hums in disappointment, and pulls away to look at you with a raised brow., “Is that true?”

Not only are you put on the spot with the question, but Josh is making it nearly impossible for you to concentrate with his hands lathering soap across your back in massaging circles.

Jake clicks his tongue as he watches his own hand snake up your throat, making you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers press into the pulse point. Beads of water ricochet off his face and onto yours when he breathes across your parted mouth, “I’m curious as to why I didn’t hear you this morning.”

His wet lips ghost across your jaw until they eventually touch your ear, taunting you with a satisfying purr, “Because if you were my bed, I would have fucked you until you were screaming my name for him to hear.”

Confident in how he’s left you speechless, he suddenly breaks his hold on you to reach for the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shower ledge, gifting you with a knowing smirk as he does so. As you stand here in shock, he’s more than aware that he’s teasing you with the mundane action, making sure to take his time squirting the soap into the palm of his hand and massaging it into his scalp as if you aren’t standing right in front of him.

You extend your open hand until it touches his silken chest, feeling his relaxed breathing beneath your palm. Jake’s eyes remain closed as his head stays tipped back, but you still catch the harsh swallow in his throat in response. Your fingertips follow the flow of the water until his stomach shudders from you tickling across his navel. While his expressionless face keeps up the act of nonchalance, the twitch and bounce of his hardening cock gives him away.

Meanwhile, Josh’s hands have slipped around your hips and up the front of your body. Fingers splay out, gliding across the soap foam to feel across the delicate softness of your belly. He eliminates the inches of distance, hooking his chin over your shoulder to bring you together so his chest connects with your back. His left hand floats across the rich lather he’s created, cupping your breast with a firm squeeze, while the right slides its way up your sternum to wrap around your throat.

The gasp you release evolves into a deep moan from the feeling of his fingers pressing into you just as Jake had done moments before — yet it’s seemingly different. There’s a certain neediness to Josh’s touch around the vulnerable spot, as if worshiping you every moment he was given, forgoing any sense of possessiveness his brother might have.

The high-pressure of the running water massages across your back from his side’s shower head, bouncing off naked skin to cover the shower door like a wall of rain. You watch the heavy droplets trickle down, merging together along the pane of glass until the sharp sensation of Josh’s teeth dragging across your shoulder yanks your focus away.

Your hips roll against him, grinding against his erection that’s been pressing into your ass for the last few minutes. He hums in approval, tightening his hold around your body that much more. You melt into the embrace, as if the hot steam billowing up from the floor has fused you to him. The diluted suds of Jake’s shampoo are starting to run down in waves over his body as he rinses his hair. You trace a solitary index finger from the base, along his growing length, and to the tip of his cock, causing a smirk to break through his stoic face.

You jump on the chance to tease him in this fleeting lapse of his control by loosely wrapping your fingers around him. The temperature of the water doesn’t mask your ability to feel his warmth as he hardens in your grasp. You study the way he slowly licks across his lips, how his breathing begins to deepen when you start to stroke him — mesmerized watching the artwork decorating his chest as it shifts with the ever-moving canvas of his skin.

A low groan rumbles within him, loud enough that the sound echoes within the shower walls, and his head falls forward suddenly like a loosened hinge. He has to brace himself by placing an open hand to the shower wall, but hasn’t opened his eyes to look at you just yet. The washed hair that he has slicked to the back of his head has fallen free in long tendrils, framing his face. With the water no longer flowing down his back, it pours from those ends of his hair, the very tip of his nose, the pouted edge of his parted bottom lip and his chin.

You watch as his dark, defined brows shift as the speed and technique of your hand changes, going from a raised to furrowed state, and back again. Slick with leftover soap, you slip your other hand between his legs to cup the rest of him in the safety of your palm. The careful rub of gentle fingers along the hot skin as you continue stroking him causes a stifled moan to escape his open mouth.

He huffs a breathy laugh, shining a devilishly handsome smile while looking up through soaked lashes. “You’re fucking trouble.”

The combination of Jake’s wet cock pulsing wildly in your hand while Josh’s ruts into the small of your back sends a primal need straight to your core. You clench around nothing — only the memory of them between your legs hours ago. As if Josh can feel the impatience coursing through you, his hand leaves its place around your throat, and trails back down through the valley of your breasts, roaming over your curves until he dips between your shaking legs.

His slender, tattooed fingers part you while sighing into your ear, sending the hummed sound over the folds of your brain, “Fuck, baby. She’s already so swollen and hard for me.” He pauses to bite at your earlobe, rolling his tongue ring over as he sucks it into his mouth before praising, “Pretty little thing.” Another heavy breath rolls into a purr against you, “A greedy one, isn’t she?”

He graces you with an artist’s touch, drawing the pad of his middle finger across your clit in a changing pattern of shapes. You don’t even fight when he attaches his lips to the side of your neck, allowing him to add to the collection of marks he and his brother have left on you.

Your vision is blurred by steam, hot water, and the blooming cloud of lust circling in your head, but you’re able to see Jake reaching out with his free hand to grasp your chin between his thumb and fingers, guiding himself to you. He kisses you, capturing your wet lips with his own. The heat of his mouth is addicting, a stark contrast from the water that’s already started to chill on your skin. Yet, despite the soothing heat of his tongue, you can taste the mint flavor from his toothpaste lingering in his mouth.

He sends a moan over your tongue, rolling his hips to chase the friction of your hand pumping around his cock. You do the same, as you’re becoming increasingly more distracted by Josh playing with your clit.

The sensation of his hot tongue running across your cool, wet skin along your shoulder makes your knees buckle beneath your weight, but thankfully Josh’s hand wrapped underneath your breast keeps you upright. With your head resting on his shoulder, he speaks softly with a crooning voice against your cheek, “Is it getting difficult, baby?” You would respond with something witty, but the thought disappears somewhere in the fog swirling your mind. “Hard for you to think while I’m fucking you with my fingers, huh?

The digits curl with precision, pressing against the special spot hidden inside you, working you while the heel of his palm rubs against your clit. Your eyes clamp shut, and the movements of your hand on Jake begin to stagger in rhythm. An internal battle is waging within your body, fighting the decision whether to stiffen or relax in Josh’s arms. His voice is so low and deep it almost dissipates into beading water hitting the tile. “They feel good?”

You can only nod your pitiful answer with your face pressing up against his cheek. With a broad lick of his tongue across it, he teases with confidence dripping in his voice. “Sure seems like it with how your pussy’s swallowing them up.” He presses his fingers against the spot with more force, pairing the action with a nip to your ear. “Almost more than you gagging on my cock this morning.”

A groan tears through your chest and you tighten your fist around Jake, making him stumble forward when your fingertips squeeze around the head. He takes a second to compose himself before giving away that he’s heard his brother by asking him, “Felt fucking amazing, right?”

You might die in embarrassment at the idea of them bonding over your oral skills as if it isn’t for the fact that you’re stuck between them. It should be shameful with how greedy you are, wanting both of them to fill you up for the third time in twenty-four hours. You’re feeling the repercussions, the soreness of your muscles, the lack of proper sleep throughout the night, and most importantly — the dull aching between your thighs. You can’t force yourself to care in the slightest.

You feel the teeth of Josh’s grin drag across the nape of your neck as he grinds himself against your ass. “I’d say the best I’ve ever had.”

You’re getting closer to your peak, climbing faster than you could have anticipated. The blanketing heat of your impending orgasm floods between your legs, making the movement of your hand on Jake slow to a stop. You’re lost in the high of lust flowing in your veins, practically riding on Josh’s hand as his fingers pump inside you. You release your hand from Jake to reach back for Josh, making him withdraw his fingers and smack your swollen cunt with an open hand.

You cry out from the sting and empty feeling you’re suddenly left with, “What the fuck?!”

He hisses in your ear while his fingertip tickles across your clit, making you squirm in his hold. “You thought I was gonna reward you for that?” Jake giggles at your flustered state as he’s busy brushing his thumb across your nipple, but Josh continues, “Don’t be selfish, baby. Be a good girl and don’t take your hand off him again.”

Jake grabs your wrist in a gentle hold, guiding it to his cock — the inked skull on the back of his hand staring back at you once again. He strokes himself with your hand beneath his, showing you the exact pace and pressure he wants. “Just like that, dove.”

His fingers run along your arm, holding it loosely to brace himself as you work your hand around him once again. He’s watching with every ounce of focus he possesses, and his brows are sewn so tightly together it almost looks as if he’s in pain, grimacing through the ragged panting from his lungs. “Fuck, that’s feels good.”

Josh’s fingers find their place buried deep inside you, picking up exactly where he left off. The soap he used is acting like a lube against your backside, allowing him to glide himself in eager thrusts against your ass.

Jake tightens his grasp around your arm, stammering out through a pitchy moan thats unfamiliar to you, “I’m..I’m gonna-“

Even through the mess of wet, soap-slicked bodies, all three of you work in unison to find a collective release. Josh is determined to make you finish first, throwing you off the edge into the unforgiving sea of your orgasm. You drench his fingers in your arousal, riding through each undulating wave on his hand. Through the height of your ecstacy, you’ve been pumping your hand faster on Jake, feeling his cock harden and pulse in preparation. Josh retreats his hand from between your legs to grab your hip, pressing the tiny indents into the flesh. Jake loses control and unravels before you, grunting through a final squeeze of your fingers across the head of his cock. He drives himself back into your hand, shooting his cum into your stomach, rewarding you with its heat before it washes away down your body.

Josh is only seconds behind, jerking himself with frenzied pumps as his other hand digs into your side. His knuckles hit your skin with each pass, giving away just how desperate he is at this moment. A string of hushed curses through strained panting flutters across your back as he paints you. You arch into the feeling, connecting the back of your head to his brow. No one dares to move for a minute, locked in a trance as the streams of water fall around you. Josh swipes his fingers through the cum he’s left across your asscheek, admiring his work before it's lost forever.

Jake is the one to break the silence once he finds a clearer state of consciousness, “Josh?”

Straightening himself from his crouched position against you, he responds with a cracked voice, “Yeah?”

Jake shifts his weight on his legs, and reaches for the bottle of conditioner on the ledge. “Weren’t you supposed to open the shop this morning?”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck!” Josh curses loudly and stumbles away from you in a panic, nearly slipping on the tile before grabbing the shower door handle. He whips his head back to look at you, revealing the new guilt and stress masking over his features. He leans in and places a chaste kiss to your lips before apologizing, “I’m so fucking sorry I gotta run, baby. Talk later?”

“S-sure,” you mumble against his lips, clearly still trapped in this daze. He kisses you again, giving into the urge to lick across your bottom lip.

Before you can convince him to forget all his responsibilities again, Jake scolds him with a forceful shove to his chest to break the two of you apart, “Go, you fucking idiot!”

Josh doesn’t even argue, and stumbles out of the shower, causing a rush of cold air to sting your bare flesh. Jake rushes to close it and take you into his arms without his brother’s presence stopping him. The view through the glass is obstructed with steam, but you can hear Josh fumbling in the bathroom for a minute, then the sounds of his feet hitting the wood floor when he runs into his bedroom.

Jake kisses you gently, peppering your jawline with the touch of his lips until they brush the shell of your ear. The sound of his voice is affectionate, even with the lingering notes of his desire, “Now let’s take care of that tattoo before I can enjoy you all to myself.”

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