Tumgik
#jake kiszka fanfic
builtbybrokenbells · 3 months
Text
Reaching New Heights
Tumblr media
While under the impression that she has the house to herself, y/n enjoys some much needed alone time. Jake, planning on coming home to surprise her, walks himself straight into a whole new world.
Based off this request 🤍
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 11k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, virgin reader/losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), masturbating (f!receiving), simultaneous orgasm, multiple orgasm, very soft dom type beat, slight cockwarming if you squint, dry humping, touch of spit play, touch of voyeurism, praise, dirty talk, name calling, begging, very very sweet Jake ☹️, anxiety, fluff, swearing, talks of bad dating experiences, sorry if I miss any!
thank to the lovely anon who requested this! sorry for all of my other requests waiting, I promise I’m getting there! I had an idea like this already sitting in the drafts, so when I saw this request I had to write it! I hope this is what you were looking for, and I do apologize for this basically just being pwp. As always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! 🤍 (extremely lightly edited)
Intimacy, especially in the sexual context, had always been a touchy subject for you. It wasn’t because of any moral dilemmas, nor because of bad past experiences. You weren’t saving yourself for marriage, and you did not value your virginity as a ‘virtue’. You simply chose not to engage because you had never met anyone who you believed was right for you. You had plenty of dates and failed talking stages with men who only ever seemed interested in getting in your pants, but you had never met someone who seemed interested in you beyond anything sexual. You wanted to explore, to test your own limits and discover yourself with another person, but you could not bring yourself to undress for someone who only wanted (and planned) to leave after the fact.
You were comfortable with your own routine, and after a while it seemed more likely that you would remain a virgin until your hair turned gray and you were sat in a nursing home. At first, it bothered you, but then it became the most normal part of your life. You would rather keep to yourself than give away a part of you to someone who would not appreciate it. Most people weren’t interested in dating once you specified that you would not put out on the first date, and to you, that was okay; they weren’t worth your time or effort. Life was simple without anyone else empeding on your routine, anyway.
Then, one fateful day at a lovely, locally owned music store, you found yourself in front of someone who changed your world entirely, flipping it on its axis and throwing your whole life off course. You had (literally) run into him when you were least expecting it; he had stepped in front of you as you were bustling to the counter to pay for your handful of vinyl records. He apologized profusely, landing a gentle hand on your arm to make sure you were steady on your feet and he hadn’t hurt you. You were too enthralled in the beauty of his face to comprehend the words he was speaking, anyway. His long brown hair hung down to frame his face, and his warm, chocolate coloured eyes seemed to be staring straight into your soul. His smile was inviting, and his charm was unexplainable. He’d made you fall for him without even trying.
Once you managed to overcome your nervous staring, you forced a smile and assured him you were alright. He introduced himself, hesitant to believe you were telling the truth, and insisted on buying your records for you as an apology. After a drawn out back-and-forth argument, he eventually managed to convince you that it was the only apology he would allow for himself. Before you ventured to the counter, you took interest in the specific guitar he was fawning over on the wall. After explaining the details to you, you were left feeling disappointed at the prospect of having to part with him once you stepped out the door.
He ended up buying your records, and the guitar hanging on the wall, but he didn’t seem to want to let you leave without anything more, either.
So, instead of going your separate ways, you ended up at a diner just down the street, sharing lunch and getting to know each other as best as you could in the limited time you had. Laughs were plentiful and fulfillment was felt from all sides. Jake Kiszka was the man you had been waiting for, someone who saw you as a person, not just something to fuck. He was interested in every small detail, and he wanted to know everything he could about you. He was a bit shy, and very nervous, but he was sweet, kind, and he took your breath away. When you left the restaurant, you had a new found excitement for life, and a phone number in your contact list that would now be called on the daily.
At first, the relationship was built slowly and carefully. The two of you started as friends, texting each other regularly and trying your best to discover all of the intimate details about each other. Then, when you guys built up enough courage, you started going on small dates; movie nights, dinner dates, Sunday afternoon drives… you wanted to do anything and everything with him. He quickly became your closest friend and your most trusted confidant. You spent so much time together that it was almost strange not being in the same place. Of course, eventually, his time to tour came around, and it threw your life so violently off track that it was nearly hard to function.
When he first told you, you tried to force a smile and pretend all was well, but he knew you better than that. He could see the sadness in your eyes, and the apprehension. You were both so head over heels for each other that it made it hard to think of anything else. All of the late night phone calls and evenings spent immersed in each other had finally resulted in something much bigger. You were in love, and you were terrified for him to leave you. You feared that once he was gone, he would find someone more exciting, more interesting. Little did you know, he was afraid of all the same things.
So, as you sat in his living room while he packed up the last of his things, he dropped a sly comment about you taking care of his place while he was gone, coming over and watering his plants, and even staying the night if you missed him too much. It was his indirect way of giving you a key to his house, and in turn, his heart. He slipped the spare key from his pocket, handing it over and giving you a smile. Before he went to the airport, you found yourselves confessing your hearts and kissing with tears running down your face. He asked you to be his girlfriend before he ever got on the plane.
Every night, when he was holed up in a different hotel room, he was calling you with excitement, unable to wait to tell you all about his day. It was a different kind of feeling, falling in love with someone without anything other than emotional connection. After a year of touring and only being home with you for a few days at a time, he was growing restless and more eager to be with you again. By the time he got home from traveling the world, he missed you so much that he rarely let you leave his side. Within a few months, your belongings were packed up and ready to be taken to his house, and not long after that, it was no longer just Jake’s house, it was yours, too.
When the two of you were together, it grew increasingly more difficult to navigate your lack of sexual experience. He was very affectionate, his hands always on you and kissing you whenever he could. You felt that he was getting frustrated with your rejections, and it forced you into a corner. You had to open up to him, to tell him the truth and that your avoidance was not because of him at all. You sat him down not long after the two of you moved in together, knowing that you should have confessed to him sooner, and fearful that it would change the way he viewed you.
But, almost as if Jake was put on the earth to challenge every single previous idea you had about men, he smiled and held you, expressing his gratitude that you were comfortable enough to share such things with him. He fell in love with you without sex, and that did not change anything for him. You were worth much more to him than that, and he wanted to make sure you knew it. He thanked you for telling him, and he apologized if he ever made you uncomfortable with his actions before your discussion. He promised that he would never push you, and you could take as much time as you needed to open up and explore that with him.
He was a dream come true, and after a few months, you could easily see that he was determined to stay true to his word. He didn’t once make you feel bad for wanting to wait a little longer, and he never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. Soon after, you began to realize that Jake truly was the one for you, and that all of your previous fears were quickly becoming obsolete. He did not want you for sex; he loved you for your heart, and when you were ready, he would love you for everything else, too.
Even while you found yourself amidst heated make out sessions, and you could feel how much he wanted you, he never pushed you further. When you laid in bed, and he inevitably found his hands becoming more and more curious, he stopped himself before you even had to say anything. He looked the other way when you were getting changed, and even closed his eyes and left the room if he accidentally walked in on you in an awkward position. He was the epitome of patience and kindness, and the longer you watched him respect you in such a way, the harder you fell for him.
You made sure to thank him often, expressing your appreciation for his patience and his willingness to wait. He valued you so highly, and your comfort was always his top priority. Sometimes, you feared that if you made him wait too long, he would begin to lose interest, but every day he proved to you that he was in it for the long haul. He wanted to be with you, and it did not matter in which way. He loved you, and if waiting made you most comfortable, then he would wait forever for you. It quickly became apparent to you that he was the love of your life, and the prospect of sharing that part of you became more enticing every single day.
It was not like you didn’t want to have sex with Jake; if anything, you wanted it so badly that it made it hard to think of anything else sometimes. Once the fear faded away, it was replaced with awkwardness and uncertainty on the topic. You feared that because of your lack of experience, it would be disappointing for him. There were so many questions that you did not know the answer to, and they plagued you almost every time you thought about it. What if he thought you were stupid because you didn't know what you were doing? What if he wasn’t interested in you once you took your clothes off? What if you did nothing but embarrass yourself?
It was all too much sometimes, and you knew the best way to deal with it was to talk to him, but the topic was daunting for you, and it was embarrassing. It was something you knew little about, and it made you feel silly and even a little naïve. You didn’t know what you liked, and you certainly didn’t know how to do anything that he liked. You knew that with the patience that Jake had shown you, he would be nothing but kind in bed, and he would certainly help you figure everything out, but it was so scary to think about, and it was easier for you to avoid it. You were afraid of looking dumb, and the fear hindered you more than anything else. In the time you spent with him, it became more clear that Jake was what you’d been waiting for the whole time, but now you were facing a whole new challenge; being vulnerable enough to let him show you the ropes.
Every so often, curiosity got the best of you, and you let your eyes linger on him a little too long when he was shirtless, and an unfamiliar feeling would blossom in your stomach. He would move a certain way, or his hand would move a little too far up your thigh, and you would be plagued with temptation to touch him. He would wear certain clothes that would drive you crazy when you looked at him for long enough, and it was becoming harder to ignore every single day. He was what you wanted, and it was so difficult to feel that way when you felt paralyzed at the thought of progressing any further. Jake was driving you crazy, and he wasn’t even doing it intentionally; he was just existing, and that was enough to push you closer and closer to the edge.
Like when he would stretch, and a peek of his tanned stomach would be visible, showing you his treasure trail and a slight hint of a v-line, or when he was sleeping so soundly and turned on to his side to pull you to his chest. The feeling of his body against yours was intense, and the longer he held you to him, he more turned on he would get. An ache would begin between your legs as he slept soundly behind you, his erection pressing into your ass. He wouldn’t even realize it, but he would pull you closer to relieve the ache and give him some much needed friction. You would let it play out; you enjoyed it so much, but you could not seem to voice that to him while he was awake. When he woke and realized the extent of his actions, he apologized profusely while you continued to imagine what it would be like if he kept going, pulling your shorts down just enough to give himself access to you.
You imagined what it would feel like as he rested himself against your entrance, speaking softly in your ear as he talked you through it. How he would put his fingers in his mouth, collecting enough spit to lubricate them before his hand drifted between your thighs. You wondered what it would feel like for his fingers to be tracing around your clit instead of your own, how excited he would be just from touching you alone. Your skin tingled at the thought of his rough fingertips gently working at you as he whispered encouragement in your ear, eventually working you up enough to add his cock to you, too. The picture of him being inside you was too much to bear, and just the thought of feeling so close to him was intoxicating. You had to force a smile on your face while apologized, assuring him you were alright while you thought of all of the filthy things that he could be doing to you. You wanted it so bad, but when you finally found enough courage to ask that of him, the words seemed to get stuck in your throat.
When he would leave for errands, or when he would go to work in the mornings, you would think back on the incidents that caused the flutter in your belly. The longer you focused on it, the more uncomfortable you became. You would work yourself up to the point of no return, and you would have to relieve yourself before Jake got back. In your shared bed, you would let your hand slip between your legs as you thought of all of the things Jake did to you without even knowing it. It wouldn’t take long until you were a mess, muttering his name as you reached a climax that was stronger than any you’d ever felt before.
It was almost routine, now. You were so needy that every time Jake stepped out for a moment, you would have to take the time and get yourself off. It was the only way you could keep up with the temptations without having to open up to him about it. He would come home, and you would smile and kiss him as if your fingers hadn’t just been playing with your own cunt while you imagined it was him doing it, instead.
This small ritual was exactly what happened on that specific day; you had grown so comfortable with it that when Jake left for the studio in the morning, you couldn’t wait to finish your household chores so you could cut straight to the point. You kissed him goodbye, wishing him a good day, and watched as he walked to his car, guitar case in his hand as he blew a kiss to you over his shoulder. The jeans he was wearing were tight, hugging every inch of his legs and showcasing every small detail to you. The denim sat nicely over his ass, and unfortunately for you, every other part of him that you tried your best not to think about. His shirt was old, the button up beginning to fray at the sleeves and the fabric becoming thin and worn. He had the last two buttons done, but left the top open as always. The soft, tanned skin of his chest made your mouth water and your stomach twist with desire. You did not know how much longer you could hold yourself back.
He got in his car and drove away, but you stayed at the door, watching the now empty space for a moment longer while you collected your thoughts. You were so worked up that your cheeks were burning and your heart was thudding dramatically against your chest. You forced yourself to shower, taking some extra time to shave and really make yourself feel good. You did the dishes, and you grabbed something to eat, and you wondered if you might be able to curb the urge that day. Once you were away from him and busy with other things, the need seemed so much smaller.
As you sat down to eat, you knew that it was absolutely impossible to ignore such a feeling, because the minute your mind was left without a distraction, Jake was the only thing it wanted to focus on. You forced your lunch into you, remembering that Jake said his day at the studio might be a little longer than the last. You had ample time to really draw the whole experience out, so that’s what you did. When you made it to your bedroom, you knew you had about an hour until he was home again. You took off your clothes, put on some music, only quietly so you could hear if the front door opened, you turned off the lights, and you laid on his side of the bed. You closed your eyes, breathing slowly as you remembered the morning the two of you spent together. It started sweet, like always.
You woke up with Jake next to you, the scent of his shampoo lingering in the sheets as the soft sounds of his snores filled your ears. You looked back over your shoulder at him, smiling as you admired the peaceful expression on his face. He was shirtless, as always, only a pair of boxers on as the comforter covered up his lower half. You watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed, and his stomach, too. You knew you shouldn’t have looked for so long, because the longer you stared, the more curious you became. You reached out, settling your hand on his stomach gently, a little lower than you usually would. You let your fingers drift over the skin, sending a light tickle through him. He tensed slightly at the feeling, but did not wake. After a few seconds, he woke up just enough to realize it was you touching him.
He moved onto his side, draping an arm over your waist as he pulled you closer to him. Every morning went the same, and you looked forward to it every day. He guided you into him, resting your back against his bare chest. His warmth was comforting, and you wished to live in the moment forever. His hand that was wrapped around you drifted underneath your shirt, resting on your stomach as he brought you even closer to him. The curve of your ass fit perfectly against his hips and his nose was brushing against your shoulder. His head was buried in the crook of your neck as he placed a gentle kiss on it. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine and you closed your eyes. He seemed more awake than he usually was, but not completely aware.
You brought your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his own. Once you felt like he’d drifted off to sleep again, you guided his hand upwards even further, so it was resting on your rib cage just below your breast. You wanted to take it further, but instead, you pushed your ass back into him a little. In his sleepy state, the small feeling prompted a physical reaction. His breathing quickened, but he didn’t move any further. For a moment, you had to question if he was awake too, or if he was stuck in a dream about the exact position you were laying in. His rough fingertips against your skin was intoxicating, and you needed more, but you were too afraid to wake him and tell him so.
You moved your hips against him again, feeling his fingers tighten against you. His knuckles brushed against the underside of your breast, and even in a sleeping state, he could recognize that feeling from anywhere. On his own, he moved his hand up further, cupping it in his palm as his head nuzzled further into your neck. Your breath caught in your throat and that familiar feeling began to pulse in the pit of your stomach. His grip grew stronger, and for a moment, you really did believe that he was awake. His thumb drifted over your hardened nipple, causing your hips to move against him again.
You could feel his erection growing against you, becoming more noticeable as each second passed. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the ache begin to make itself known. Your breathing sped, and your heart pounded against your chest. His hand stayed on your chest for only a moment until a small noise escaped him, his own need showing even while he was asleep. His hand traveled down your body, landing on your hip as he pulled you back on him. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to keep yourself quiet. You bit down on your lip, scared to make a sound in case he woke and the moment ended.
His fingers held you tightly as he pulled you back on to him, his cock painfully hard as his hips moved against your ass. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, and you could only imagine that he was feeling the same type of desperation amidst his dreams. Then, as your heart raced, you heard him whisper your name so delicately that a shiver ran down your spine. He wasn’t just dreaming of sex; he was dreaming of you.
Instead of focusing on what came after, when he woke up with embarrassment written in his features and apologies on his tongue, you pretended what it would be like if you had the courage to tell him to keep going. As you thought of it, you let your hand slip between your thighs. You were already aching for relief, your arousal pooling and showing you just how bad you needed him. You let your middle finger begin tracing slow circles around your clit as your mind clung to thoughts of Jake and just how much you wanted him to take care of you.
You imagined his dark eyes growing heavy as he woke, apologizing being the last thing on his mind. You imagined the desperation in his movement as his fingers dipped below your shorts, moving back from you only for long enough to pull them down over your ass. You thought about how good it would feel to have his hand drift to your cunt, relieving the ache that he’d become so good at causing. You didn’t want him to ask if it was okay, or for any type of permission. You wanted him to have you however he wanted, and you would just be thankful that he was giving you anything at all.
“How does that feel, Angel?” He asked, his voice raspy and rough from sleep as his fingers trace around your aching clit. “Does that feel good? Is this what you want?”
“F-fuck, yes, Jake.” You whine, moving your hips forward to meet his hand, so needy and he barely even touched you yet.
“Just want me to take care of you, baby? Need me to show you how good I can make you feel?” His normally sweet and doting personality was gone, replaced with an animalistic desire after waiting so long to have you. You could feel his cock pressing into your ass, still aching to be touched. He needed you so bad that it was impossible to hide it. “You know I’ll always take care of you, sweet girl… give you anything you want.”
“Y-you, Jake. I want you.” You pleaded, feeling yourself clench around nothing. You wanted him so badly, and you weren’t sure if you could wait any longer.
“You want me, sweetheart?” He crooned, the sound of your desperation sending a shiver down his spine. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes please,” you plead, feeling your stomach twist with pleasure.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered, his tone resembling a growl. He drew his hand from you, pulling his boxers down just enough to free himself. He brought his hand to his mouth, spitting on it and stroking himself for a few moments. He moved his hips forward, resting the tip of his cock against your entrance. “How bad do you want it, sweetheart.” His low tone settled deep in your bones, making your entire body quiver.
“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath stuck in your throat as you feel him push inside of you.
You worked yourself up to the point of absolute desperation. You felt like you were on the brink of insanity, your skin was on fire and your mind was a mess with thoughts of the boy you were so in love with. You were so deep in the fantasy that you could feel it, as if he was in front of you, touching you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You were sweating, your heart racing and your stomach twisted into knots. You needed to let go, but more than that, you needed him.
Little to your knowledge, Jake was unlocking the front door, a sneaky smile on his face as a bouquet of flowers was held tightly in his hand. He’d been planning this all week; coming home from the studio early to surprise you, just to see the look on your face. He’d been working more often than usual as of late, and he felt like he wasn’t spending enough time with you. He’d specifically told you he’d be later than he actually would be, just so he wouldn’t ruin the element of shock. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he expected to be greeted by you soon after. His confusion grew as he looked to the kitchen and did not see you there. Next, he checked the living room, wondering if you were curled up on the couch reading a book.
When he couldn’t find you there, he figured the only other place you would be is the bedroom. Your car was outside, and you hadn’t mentioned having to run any errands that day. He took to the stairs, wondering if you decided to take a nap or watch a movie in bed. As he climbed to the top of the stairs, he noticed the soft drift of music through the door. He smiled to himself, knowing he would find you wrapped up in blankets and dozing away the day. He could curl up next to you, holding you close while you slept, and maybe even fall asleep beside you. As he reached the door, he was about to reach out and turn the knob, but he froze in his tracks.
An unfamiliar, incredibly enticing sound reached his ears. It was muffled, barely heard over the speaker and through the closed door, but he caught it. Instead of interrupting, he waited and listened, wondering if his ears were deceiving him. He moved his head closer to the door, nearly pressing his ear against the hollow wood as he strained to hear, trying to piece together the situation.
You were so lost in your own little world that you did not hear the door open downstairs, nor did you hear his footsteps in the hallway. You were so close to an orgasm that not much could distract you from it. Your eyes were shut, your breathing labored as you pictured how softly his hands would drift over the curves of your hips, and how intoxicating his tongue on your skin would feel. You thought of the sweet words rolling off his tongue, the imaginary praise and encouragement driving you even closer to a climax. He would be so sweet, so attentive and caring, and you knew he’d make you feel better than you ever had before. You couldn’t help it, the moans falling from your lips were obscene and his name was delicately mixed within them as if he was in there with you, causing the pleasure himself.
He listened carefully, his cheeks flushing with pleasure at the sound of pleasure stuck on your lips. Desire filled him, running all the way from his throat down to his stomach. It made his chest burn and his skin tingle with excitement. In an instant, he’d forgotten about the romantic gesture and the flowers in his hand; he was only focused on wanting to be the reason those sounds were laced around your tongue. He didn’t want to interrupt, and he feared that if he opened the door, he would embarrass you to death. He worried about overstepping, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but the sounds were so beautiful that it made his head spin. He tried to force himself to stop listening, fearing he was breaching your trust and invading your privacy, but he couldn’t will himself to walk away.
He was growing increasingly frustrated as he stood and listened, his heart pounding against his chest and his whole body aching with desire. He could feel himself growing more turned on, his cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans as his own desperation became stronger. He palmed himself through the fabric, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He knew he should walk away, leave you alone to finish up and go take care of his own problem. It was the right thing to do, and he knew that, but the idea of you touching yourself, possibly to the thought of him, was so enticing.
Just as he thought he could find the strength to walk away, he heard the sound, so gentle and loving that he could not withstand it any longer.
“Oh god, Jake.” You whined, the sound floating through the door and settling deep in his chest. “Jake…”
It was too much for him. His hand shot out, clasping around the doorknob as he gently pushed it open. The light flooded the room, illuminating you laying so intimately on his side of the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, blotchy with red patches. A thin layer of sweat had formed over your body, only making you all the more beautiful to him. Your lips were parted, his name still caught on your tongue as your hand was settled between your legs, working intently at your cunt. Your head turned to the side, your eyes wide with shock as you tried to process the sudden change in the situation. You were so caught up in pleasure that your hand didn’t even move away from your clit as you locked eyes with him.
Suddenly, your brain seemed to catch up with the situation, and embarrassment began to take over. You panicked, scrambling to move your hand away and cover yourself with the blanket, but he took a step closer and shook his head, speaking lowly to you.
“Don’t be shy, Angel.” He rasped, looking down over you with dark eyes. The man before you seemed to be a stranger, nothing like he was in the morning before he left, but in the best possible way. The calm, domineering tone was so different, but it was fantastic all in the same. He looked down at you, his lips curled into a slight smirk as he stood over you at the foot of the bed. The desire he’d been holding back for so long seemed to be coming to the surface. He couldn’t help himself, and a part of you was thankful for it. “Don’t stop, sweetheart. You can put on such a good show.” His eyes lingered over your face, watching you closely to see if you were uncomfortable. Instead of discomfort, you seemed curious, excited, even.
And you were. You didn’t intend for the situation to turn into this, but perhaps it was the best possible outcome. You had been so afraid to have sex with Jake, and for reasons that were completely irrelevant. He was the man you’d fallen so deeply in love with, and someone you wanted to share this part of you with, too. Him walking in on you allowed you to avoid the awkward conversations and nervous stuttering, because you were already worked up to the point of no return. This made the part you were dreading so much easier, and the look in his eye made you feel foolish for ever thinking he wouldn’t love your body just as much as he loved your heart. Something in his expression told you that he would give you all of the direction you needed if you allowed him to do so.
Slowly, you pushed the blanket away from your body, returning your hand to its earlier position. You continued holding his gaze as you brought your middle finger back to your clit, tracing slow circles while he gave you a smile of satisfaction.
“So this is what you get up to when I’m gone all day?” He asked, his tone low and gravelly. He was so overcome with lust that it was impossible to think of anything else. “As soon as I leave, you come up here and play with that pretty little cunt, without me?” His expression was stern, his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. You could see his cock strained against his pants, and the fact that he was really standing before you rather than existing in your imagination was making the pleasure all the more intense. His words were filthy, but for some reason, it didn’t seem to scare you. You’d been fantasizing about words like that coming from his mouth since the first day you met him.
“Y-yeah,” you nod, stuttering slightly. He didn’t care, nor did he notice, anyway. Your embarrassment was growing smaller with every passing second, and the desire in his eyes made the whole thing seem less terrifying. To see him want you so badly made your stomach twist into knots. He gave you a small smile at the word, happy to see that you weren’t shutting him out. The small expression was enough encouragement for you to keep going.
“Do you think of me, Angel?” He asked, his gaze flickering down to your hand, working carefully to build yourself back up to an orgasm. “Do you wish that I was here doing it, instead?” He asked, reaching one hand down to his cock, adjusting himself in his pants to make it more comfortable while he watched. Your eyes were fixated on his hand, cheeks red at the thought. You wanted to see more, but you weren’t sure what to do next. You were so out of your comfort zone, but something about being able to do it with Jake made it all the more easier. “Come on, baby. Talk to me.” His voice was softer, now, showing you that he was willing to help you through it.
“I-I do,” you nod, catching his eye again. Somewhere in his pupil, he was trying to tell you that it was okay, and you believed it.
“You want to show me what you do when I’m not here?” He asked, gauging your comfort level with his questions.
“Yeah, okay.” You breathe, nodding again. He gave you another smile, licking his lips slightly. To see him look at you in such a way was almost too much to resist. Instead of jumping straight into it, you let him talk you through it, slowly and steadily.
“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Just like that.” He said, watching as your hand worked at your cunt. “Then, once you finish, maybe I can show you what it’s like when someone else does it for you.” He posed it like a statement, but he was asking for permission. He needed to touch you so badly, but only if you wanted him to.
“Yes, please.” You whisper, excited at the thought. You were already so close to the edge, spending the last half an hour working yourself up to a climax. The intrusion slowed down your progress, but definitely did not stop it completely. As you finger drifted over your clit, your stomach was burning with the familiar feeling, but it seemed so much more intense than before now that he was watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you could feel the pull of pleasure again, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breathing.
“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job for me.” He said, but it was strained. He wanted to be the one driving you crazy, and it was nearly torture having to watch you and not touch you. You try to hold your moans back, scared to embarrass yourself, but he thought that your state was all but shameful. He thought you were gorgeous, and he felt so lucky to be able to see you like this at all. “Let me hear those pretty noises again, sweet girl.” He pleaded, taking a step closer to the bed. “Don’t be shy with me.” At his permission, your lips parted and a soft moan filled the air. The sound alone nearly drove him to insanity. He watched you carefully, noticing as the muscles in your stomach tensed with every wave of pleasure. He wanted to remember the way you looked in that moment forever.
You were so close to an orgasm, and the desperation was evident in your movements and your voice. He needed it like the starving needed food, and he couldn’t wait much longer. He leaned down over you on the bed, letting his hand drift over your exposed thigh, the touch light but electric.
“Fuck, Jake.” You expressed your thoughts, feeling the pleasure pulsing under your skin and throughout your entire body.
“Look at me, baby.” He said, wanting you to open your eyes. You did as he said, catching the warm brown of his irises and feeling the warmth flood you. Your breath caught in your throat, and your muscles constricted. You were so close, and him looking at you in such a way made it all the more intense. “Let go,” he hummed, giving you a smile. His eyes were heavy and his chest was heaving with every breath. “Come for me, Angel.” And you did, your limbs trembling as the pleasure took hold. You’d never felt like that in your entire life, and it was so intense that it made your head spin and your chest burn. You didn’t think it was possible to feel such a way, but as you looked into Jake’s eyes, you knew it was all because of him. “That’s my girl.” He sighed, leaning down and pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh.
The feeling made you melt into his touch, his lips so delicate against your warm skin. You wanted more; suddenly, your own hand wasn’t enough. You needed him to do it for you, to feel what it was like when he touched you. You reached down, cupping his cheek in your hand as you let your thumb drift over his cheek. He hummed against you, still focused on the feeling of your thigh against his mouth. The longer he left them there, kissing a trail upwards, the sloppier he became. He sucked light marks into the delicate skin as his hand found your hip, pulling you down on the mattress towards him. He wanted you to feel admired, to know how strongly he felt for you. He wanted you to know that the situation did not have to be scary, and he only wanted to make you feel good. He was there for you, and his pleasure came second to all of your needs.
You watched him as he did all he could to showcase his admiration. You were still aching to be touched, the orgasm you had given yourself long gone and barely enough to keep you satisfied. You needed to feel him, you needed him to bring you to such pleasure, and you couldn’t believe you waited so long to feel him like this.
“Are you okay with this, baby?” He asked, looking up to you with his eyes nearly closed from the weight of lust in his stare.
“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “I’m… I'm okay.”
“You tell me if you need me or want me to stop, okay?” He ordered, settling on his stomach between your legs. “Even if you just want me to slow down… I need you to tell me, sweetheart. Can you do that?” You hummed a response of agreement, but he didn’t move any further. “I need to hear the words, honey.”
“I will, Jake. I promise.” He gave you a soft smile, looking over your face to search for any discomfort. When he saw only excitement, he brought his own hand between your legs. Carefully, he brought his fingers to you, gathering your arousal on his fingers before bringing them to your clit. The feeling was foreign, but as soon as his fingers landed on the sensitive bundle of nerves, the unfamiliarity quickly became obsolete. His rough, calloused fingertips moved slowly over you as his eyes stayed on your face. It was immediately pleasant, way more so than your own hands doing the work.
“How’s that, Angel?” He hummed, his eyes flickering down to his hand that was working at you. His mouth watered from the sight, but he held himself back from going any further until you were comfortable.
“S-so good.” You whined, looking down at his face. The sight of his eyes fixated on your cunt made your stomach burn with desire. All of the fear you felt before was gone; you should have known better than to think Jake would view you as anything other than gorgeous.
“You want me to keep going?” He asked, looking back up at you.
“Yes, please.” You breathed, nodding at him. He gave you a smile, adding a little more pressure to his thumb. The sensation caused you to move your hips down on his hand, searching for more. He kept the pace for a moment, before sliding his thumb in place of his middle finger. He rested his middle and index finger against your entrance, waiting to see your reaction before doing anything else.
“Is this okay?”
“G-god, yes.” You nodded, still sensitive from your first orgasm. Everything he was doing felt fantastic, and you never wanted him to stop. Before going any further, he leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from his lips to his fingers, making sure that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for you. You watched, feeling a flutter of emotion rush to your core at the sight. He gave you a small smirk, noticing the reaction. Slowly, he added one finger first, wanting you to grow comfortable with the feeling before going any further. Once he knew you were alright, he added a second.
“There you go, beautiful.” He smiled, noticing your eyebrows furrow with pleasure as a moan fell from your lips. Gently, he pumped his fingers into you a few times, spitting on his hand once again to lubricate them further. “God, you have no idea how much I thought about doing this.” He muttered, more to himself than you.
“Y-you… you think about this?” You asked, your cheeks turning red at the thought.
“Think about it?” He nearly scoffed. “Baby, I dream about it.” He corrected, curling his fingers upwards slightly as his thumb brushed over your clit. You let out a sharp breath, the feeling unfamiliar but incredibly pleasant. “I think about making you feel good, and about how pretty I knew you would look while you cum…” he trailed off, driving himself crazy at his own words. “About how good you’d taste, and how good you’d feel…” he cut himself off, realizing he might be too obscene for you at the moment. You looked down at him, almost as if you were pleading with him to keep going. The knowledge that he thought about you the same way you thought about him made your heart skip a beat. “How good you’d feel wrapped around my cock.” He finished, stronger and more confident. He could feel your walls clench around his finger at the sound of his words.
“I think about you, too, Jake.” You confessed, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back on the pillow. The pleasure was more intense than anything you’d felt before, and his words were making it all the more satisfying.
“Yeah? You think about me touching you like this?” He paused his thoughts, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Such a dirty little thing.” He teased, smiling up at your blushed face. “I love it.” He made sure that you knew that more than anything else. “How does this feel, gorgeous?”
“It feels so good, Jake.” You assure him, hoping that he won’t stop.
“Can I try something?” He asks, leaning down and pressing a few more kisses into your thighs.
“Y-yeah, okay.” You nod, unsure of what he had in mind, but trusting him more than anything.
“M’gonna use my mouth, okay?” He said, scanning your face. “Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, excited at the prospect.
“Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay Angel?”
“Okay.” You nod, your eyes fixated on him as he moved closer to your heat. He moved his thumb from your clit, but you barely have time to mourn the loss before his mouth was on you and his tongue was doing the work, instead. “Oh, fuck.” You whine, reaching down and tangling your hand in his hair. The feeling was more intense, and definitely more powerful. The warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue was like heaven, and so unlike anything you’d felt before. He barely started and you could feel your walls fluttering against his fingers. You were bordering another orgasm, and you weren’t sure how much you could take before you let go.
His tongue moved carefully, but with intent. It drifted over your clit, savoring any bit of arousal still left on you. His eyes were closed as his hips moved down on the mattress, the friction barely relieving the ache of his cock, but making it a little more bearable. Your breathing was shallow, and the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair was driving him crazy. He pumped his fingers into you as his tongue worked at you, curling his fingers slightly every time he re-entered. The different types of stimulation was not overwhelming, but just enough as they worked together to push you to the edge.
“Fuck, Jake.” You whined. He hummed against you, showing you how much he was enjoying the sound. The vibration ran through you, tightening the knot in your stomach. You were so close, and your skin was tingling with pleasure. “I think… think m’gonna cum, baby.” You warned. He did not pull away, instead he made his movements more pronounced, needing it more than he needed anything more in his entire life. Your mind was flooded with desire for him, and you could only whimper his name.
He was making you feel better than you ever had before, and you were so in love with him at that moment. You couldn’t think of anyone else you’d rather be doing this with, and you felt so comfortable and loved. He adored you, and he was coaxing you so gently to a climax that it was hard to feel any fear or anxiety about it. He was so gentle and kind, his touch soft and his words sweet. He wanted you to get the most out of it, and more than anything, he wanted to make your first time special. He waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, he was doing everything in his power to make sure you enjoyed it.
The orgasm washed over you hard, making your legs shake and your eyes squeeze shut. Your fingers tightened around the stands of his hair, and you moaned his name as the pleasure took over. The obscenities falling from your lips painted the walls, burying the memory in the room until the end of time. You felt so good that you forgot how to breathe, and your head felt light. As the intensity died down and you relaxed against him, he began to taper his movements off until he came to a complete stop. As you caught your breath, he pulled back from you and looked up at your face. His eyes were heavy, and lust was hanging thick in the air. He needed you, and he did not have to say it aloud; you could feel it.
As he straightened up, his chin was glistening in the dim light, your orgasm lingering on his skin to remind you of the moment. “How was that, beautiful?” He asked, his voice husky. Your mind was still hazy as you admired his face, watching as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.
“So, so good, baby.” You sighed, giving him a lazy smile.
“You want to keep going?” He asked, standing from the bed. You admired him, shirtless and standing over you. Your head was swimming with joy and your skin was ablaze with desire for him. You made it this far, and you wanted to go all the way. You were more than ready to take the step with him, especially after he was so caring and loving with you just moments before.
“Yes, please.” You whisper, giving him a smile. He returned the expression, slowly undoing his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops. His discarded it on the floor, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You felt like you were holding your breath as you waited for him to undress, feeling excitement begin to build within you. He slipped out of his jeans, kicking them to the side. Then, he looked at you, making sure you were okay before he took off his boxers. He saw the admiration in your eyes, and it made his stomach flutter with adoration.
“You want me, sweet girl?” He whispered, his jaw tense as he watched you look at him in wonder.
“Yes, please.” You nod, waiting for him to advance further. He gave you a soft smile, pulling off his boxers and throwing them to the side. When he straightened up, your breath caught in your throat. He was stunning. The discreet toned muscles in his abdomen that were so often hidden by clothes took your breath away. The soft v-line leaning down from his hips was delicious, and you could feel the arousal begin to grow once more. When he stepped closer, the light seemed to shine on him a little more. You could see all of him, and he was breathtaking.
His cock was painfully hard, the tip red and glistening with pre-cum, and it was so enticing. Seeing all of him was something so special, and you almost regretted not doing it sooner. He kneeled before you on the bed, settling between your legs as he smiled down at you. “Hi, gorgeous.” He hummed, his expression sweet and his eyes showing you nothing but love.
“Hi,” you grinned, feeling excitement overtake all of the anxiety. He reached to the other side of the bed, grabbing a pillow.
“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.” He said. You did as he told you, and he slid the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a little more comfortable.” He promised, leaning down and bracing his arm beside your head. He gave you a stupid smile that told you how enthusiastic he was. You couldn’t help but smile back, finding his joy infectious. He leaned a little further down, capturing you in a kiss. You melted into the feeling, so relieved at the comfortable and familiar feeling after so many new sensations. You closed your eyes, cupping his cheek in your hand to hold him to you. You wanted to live in the moment with him forever.
He didn’t rush you, kissing you softly for as long as you needed. It was messy, but it was beautiful. His teeth pulled your bottom lip between them, teasing you slightly. You smiled against him, finding the playfulness soothing. “I love you, Jake.” You mumble against his lips.
“I love you so much, Angel.” He whispers, looking down over your face. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the whole world, you know that right?” Your cheeks burn red, but you can’t hold back your smile. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m so lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have you.” You sigh, your chest aching with the amount of love you have for him.
“Thank you for trusting me, y/n.” His voice is full of emotion now. The lust took the back burner, second to his love and appreciation for you.
“Thank you for being someone I can trust.” He smiled at your words, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours once more.
“Are you ready? If not, I can wait.” He assured you.
“I am.” You promised. “I’m ready.” He gave you another kiss, biting back another smile. He felt giddy with you, like it was his first time again, too. The strength in which he felt for you nearly brought him to his knees. He leaned back, looking down over your body with a look on his eyes you weren’t sure he’d ever seen before. It was so full of emotion that it made your stomach twist into knots. He spit into his hand, stroking himself before lining himself up with your entrance. He looked to you for approval, and you gave a slight nod of your head.
“It might be a little uncomfortable, so just tell me if it is, okay? Just want you to feel good, baby.”
“I will.” His concern with your pleasure was driving you crazy. He guided your legs around him and waited for a moment, giving you the chance to change your mind. When you said nothing, he slowly pushed himself inside of you.
The feeling was different, but not unpleasant. It took a moment to get used to it as he fully buried himself in you. He paused before moving any further, looking to see if you were okay. You couldn’t help but notice how full you felt, how well he fit with you, and how right it felt. You caught his eye, letting out a little sigh of satisfaction. The small sound nearly pushed him over the edge as he sat, completely still inside of you. His cock twitched slightly, the knowledge that you were enjoying him sending him feral.
“You want to wait, or do you want me to keep going?”
“Keep going, please.” You breathed, wanting more. He gave you a small smile, moving his hips ever so slightly. You tended slightly, adjusting to the feeling, but as he continued, it began to grow more comfortable. Soon after, prickles of pleasure started to ignite your skin. “Oh, Jake.” You sigh, letting your head fall back on the pillow. “That feels… so good.” His jaw clenched at your words, thrilled at your enjoyment.
“Yeah? You like it, baby?” He asked, reaching down and letting his fingers dust over your bare stomach. They trailed all the way to your chest as he cupped your breast in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb toyed with your nipple, the small sensation sending a shiver down your spine.
“I do,” you breathe, nodding your head.
“So fucking tight,” he muttered to himself. “You feel so fucking good, angel. Doing so good for me.” Your walls clenched around him as he spoke, drawing him in further. He wasn’t moving very fast, but the feeling was more than enough. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, even if you didn’t realize it before. Slowly, he began to pick up the pace, unable to hold himself back any longer. “Tell me if you need me to slow down, baby.”
“I will,” you moaned, feeling the intensity begin to build in your belly again. “God, Jake. F-faster, please.” You pleaded. He let out a groan, resembling more of a growl than anything else. He grabbed your hips, pulling you down towards him a little further. His thrusts sped, and he put a little more force behind his movements. He looked down, watching how your bodies fit together, feeling a whole new sense of desire as your hips met his with every thrust.
“You’re so fucking hot.” He groaned, leaning down and pulling you into a kiss. He’d waited so long to feel you like this, and he was afraid he might not be able to hold himself back.
“Fuck, Jake.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. His hands on your hips felt so good, his fingers burning into you in the most intoxicating way. You felt better than you ever did before, and you never wanted to stop feeling that way. He was so enchanting, and everything he was doing was euphoric. You felt like you were melting into him, both of you becoming one as the fire burned in your hearts.
“Need you to cum for me one more time, angel. Just one more.” He pleaded, pulling you down on him as he thrusted into you. The angle he was hitting was intoxicating, pulling you in further with every move of his hips. His lips met your again in a heated kiss, your chests heaving as the intensity continued to consume you. Your stomach was twisted in knots and your forehead was glistening with sweat. Your whole body felt like it was ablaze with pleasure, and you needed more than he could give.
He pulled back from you, his hips still keeping a steady pace as his hand reached between you, circling around your clit once again. The second sensation to hold with a fervent appetite, consuming you entirely and making it impossible to think of anything else. His fingers on you and his cock filling you up was pushing you to euphoria, and your vision began to blur. Your mind was hazy as you tried to focus on his face, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone so beautiful.
“You think you can give me one more, beautiful?” He asked, his voice shaking as he spoke. He was holding himself back to make sure you were pleased, but the idea of him being such a mess for you was driving you even closer to insanity. The most pleasurable part of the whole thing was knowing how good he felt, and how much he loved pleasing you.
“Y-yeah,” you managed a nod, looking up at him with desperate eyes. Your muscles were tightening as you tensed, preparing for the wave of pleasure about to wash over you. The burning in the pit of your stomach was familiar now, and you knew that he was the only one who knew how to get you there.
“Cum for me, baby.” He said, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with precision. Your legs locked around him began to tremble, and your breathing was ragged. You were so close, and you needed it. More than that, you needed him to cum at the same time.
“Cum with me, please.” You pleaded, admiring the look of pleasure twisting his expression. He let out a groan at your words, his eyebrows knitting together as his hair hung down over his face. You’d never seen Jake look so ethereal before, and it was driving you mad.
“That’s what you want, angel? That will make you happy?”
“Please, Jake.” You said, reaching up and clasping your fingers around his bicep.
“Anything for my girl,” he muttered, his head falling back as he let out a string of curses. He even made the obscenities sound beautiful. You watched as the columns of his neck tightened and his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, sweat dripping delicately down across his skin. Strands of hair stuck to the damp skin, framing him in a picture you wished to burn into your mind until the end of time.
The climax hit you hard, and you clenched around him, crying his name as you felt the pleasure fill you completely. He didn’t have time to nurture you through it, because at the same time, his orgasm washed over him. As you rode out the high, his hips stuttered and a breathy moan fell from his lips. He spilled his release inside of you, the feeling so addicting that it forced you into another wave of pleasure. Heavy breathing was the only sound in the room, and after the intensity began to fade, Jake leaned down and wrapped you in his arms. Without withdrawing from you, he turned on his back and pulled you on top of him. With a giggle, you landed comfortably in his arms with a smile so wide it made your cheeks ache.
You rested your head on his chest, your skin still tingling with the ghost of your orgasm. You placed a kiss to the skin, feeling his heart thud against his ribcage. His hand trailed down your back, his fingers tickling you slightly as he traced shapes into your skin. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you didn’t need to; the whole world felt perfect.
“How was that, angel?” He asked, reaching up and tucking your hair behind your ear. You grinned down at him, unable to put your thoughts into words. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great, Jake.” You assured him, leaning into the touch of his hand.
“You’re not hurt, are you? I wasn’t too rough?” His hand shot to your hip as he looked down, trying to see if he left any marks on you. He was panicking, worried that he hadn’t taken good enough care of you. The last thing he wanted was for you to be in pain.
“It was perfect, my love. It was better than I could have ever imagined.” You promised, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He relaxed against you, feeling better at the sound of your words.
“So… it was good? You… you liked it?” He said, his own nerves getting the best of him. You could feel him start to go soft inside of you, but neither of you cared to move. You laid together, smiling in bliss at the moment.
“It was phenomenal… I had a fantastic time.” You said, blushing slightly. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for anything, beautiful.” He pulled your head down so he could place a kiss to your forehead. “It was my pleasure.”
“I do, though. Thank you for being patient, and thank you for caring enough to wait it out. And… thank you for making my first time so special. I’ve always been kind of… afraid, I guess, and you made it so easy.”
“I’m glad I could do that for you, angel. You’re my biggest priority, and I just want to make sure you’re happy and comfortable, and I want you to have a good time.”
“I had such a good time.” You smiled, laying your head on his chest again. “Do you… you think maybe we can do it again, soon?” His grip tightened on you as he let out a small chuckle.
“Sweetheart, we can do it whenever you want. All you have to do is say the word.” He promised.
“I love you so much, Jake.” You whisper, pressing another kiss to his chest with a smile on your lips.
“You have no idea how much I love you, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”
453 notes · View notes
whollyfree · 5 months
Text
Let's Talk
Tumblr media
Summary – You have a hard time watching Jake be ogled, and he has a remedy to remind you what's yours.
Pairings – Jake Kiszka x F!Reader
Word Count – 3.1k
Warnings – 18+ MINORS DNI!!! oral (f!receiving), face-riding, unprotected sex, dumbification, LOTS of dirty talk, cockwarming if you squint, spanking, mentions of alcohol
You had really fucking had it this time.
Was it a normal thing for Jake to be ogled? Yes! How could he not be? 
It was far too easy to find yourself staring at him; so you truly couldn’t blame anyone else for doing so. With an air of confidence, he enters a room and every eye falls onto him. 
He is an enigma to all (except you, of course) and it felt like damn near every girl at that godforsaken bar was on a mission to have his eyes so much as glance their way. He knows this, of course. How could he not?
But behind his mysterious, debonair exterior, he’s Jake. Your Jake. Your soft, sweet Jake who raids your pantry to make you breakfast in bed and fills your car with gas because “why do you ever let your tank run that low?! It’s not safe!” he had argued (but he still fills it up every time). 
He’s your loving, tender Jake who litters you with kisses at any given moment and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck when the poor thing feels as if he isn’t getting enough of your attention. That, and he can’t stand not to be touching you in any form or fashion. He’s just like a little lovesick puppy!
And no matter how hard you try to remind yourself of these things, to be rational, you can’t help but have to bite your tongue. The jealousy eats away at you and it infuriates you to no end. You hate yourself for it.
Which is why tonight at the bar, you bit your tongue so hard you’re sure small trickles of blood had seeped their way into your mouth. Jake stood by the bar; an arm securely wrapped around your waist as he beckons the bartender over with a simple raise of his fingers. 
Of course, when it’s Jake, it’s not hard to get anyone’s attention; unwanted or not. And that was abundantly clear from the blonde at the end of the bar, twirling her straw in her cocktail as she eyed your boyfriend. 
Her eyes moved up and down, and you notice they became stuck on his exposed chest and silver necklaces dangling against his tanned skin. And, oh god, do you hate her for it.
Stop it. Your conscience pleads with you to (for lack of a better phrase) chill the fuck out!
Jake could tell you were a bit pouty. He knows you all too well. And just as assumed, he knew he was being eye-fucked by the blonde at the end of the bar (and one hidden away in a booth in the back, but like hell he was planning on telling you that).
Part of him hates himself for finding your jealousy so amusing. And in all honesty, if he saw a man looking at you the way that women have looked at him, he’d be raising hell.
“You okay, baby?” He grins as the two of you walk into your home after your excursion to the bar, tossing his car keys on the kitchen counter.
“Mhm.” You hum. Short and sweet. He won’t expect a thing, right?
You’re kidding yourself and you know it.
“Yeah?” He replies, crowding your space immediately from behind. He takes the curves of your hips in each of his palms, his breath tinted with the Maker’s Mark he had a glass of at the bar. Top shelf only for him, of course. “You were awfully quiet tonight. Getting shy on me all of a sudden, princess?”
You can hear the subtle teasing in his voice, and you’re sure he knows exactly what you were sulking for. But you simply answer, not ready to give yourself away too quickly. “No, just tired is all.”
“Just tired is all,” he mocks you with a low chuckle. You’re a terrible liar, always have been. “It’s cute that you think you could ever lie to me.” He adds, lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck – it already feels too much but not enough. 
And when his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, you feel a rush of heat between your thighs, and you swear your knees may give out. How he’s able to turn you into a puddle of yourself so quickly? You’ll never know.
“Come on, princess,” he sounds, and just like that it’s over. His hands are removed from your hips and he moves in front of you, his arm outstretched to you and his body facing the stairs. “Let’s go to bed then if you’re so tired.”
You try to hide your huff of annoyance, aching to have his touch again after being subjected to watch women drool over him all night. So you decide, no, you’re not going upstairs. Your arms cross over your chest like an insolent child who didn’t get what they wanted. Stubborn and spoiled. And your act of defiance is certainly not lost on him.
“No?” He quirks up an eyebrow at you, “Is the princess suddenly not tired? Sure are moody, though. What’s that about?”
God, you hate him. You hate that he’s finding your frustration the slightest bit entertaining. He’s taunting you, dangling the carrot in your face just to see you bite back.
He huffs out a laugh at your silence. “Oh, so we don’t wanna talk now, hm? That’s alright. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Before you can even blink, you’re thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll. A surprised shriek slips out of you as he trudges up the stairs and in the direction of your bedroom. Smaller in stature he may be, but weak is not a way you would ever describe him.
“Jake!” You scold him, not having any of his shit right now. “Put me down!”
“Oh, so we are talking now?” He muses, depositing you on the neatly made bed. He hovers over you, standing at the foot of the bed where he practically threw you on it. 
“How about this then, princess?” He taunts, “Since you’re suddenly in the mood to talk, I say we play a little game. You talk, I listen.”
Seems easy enough…a little too easy. 
“Everything off.” There it is.
He strides over to the bed, climbing on before laying on his back. His head rests against the pillow as you continue eyeing him, slowly peeling your clothes off your body until your stark naked and sitting on your heels on the bed.
“So obedient, my pretty girl. And so fucking beautiful when you listen, aren’t you?” He coos. “Come have a seat, princess,” he beckons, still fully clothed, “talk to me.”
With a bite to the inside of your cheek, you rise from your sitting position to straddle his lap. And just as you begin to settle yourself – 
“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “Not quite, baby.”
Your incredulous look makes him laugh. What else could he have wanted?
“Come on,” he encourages, placing his hands on your hips. “Up you go, princess.”
With a quick slap to your ass, he hoists you up further. Your eyes go wide and you yelp at the crack of his hand hitting your skin, your heart racing as your knees straddle either side of his head. 
“Good girl,” he praises, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and to your hips to keep you steady. “Go on, princess. Tell me what’s got you so pouty. Wanna help.”
Considering you’re at a loss for words and can’t think straight with him eye-level with your cunt, you suddenly don’t even know why you were upset to begin with. But another swat to your ass quickly brings you back to consciousness.
“F-fuck,” you whimper, your head falling down and fingers gripping his hair. “They were staring at you…at the bar.” You manage out.
“Yeah? Who was, princess?” He’s teasing you even more now, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your clit until you choke out his name and begin tugging on the roots of his hair. He knows you can’t answer; you’re already too far gone and he’s hardly started.
But your impending fear that he would stop has you rushing out the words through uneven breaths.
“The girls at the bar,” you croak out as his lips continue pressing small kisses to your bundle of nerves. “Hated the way they looked at you. I was fucking jealous. I’m sorry.”
Pleased with your answer (even if he already knew it), he grins. And you can feel it against you before he presses one final kiss to your pearl.
“But you see, princess,” he says, smoothing his hands over your hips. “No one else gets to have this. Just because they see my face, doesn’t mean they get to fuck it like you do, do they?”
“N-no.” You reply, desperate to feel his mouth on you again.
“Good girl,” he croons. “And what they don’t know is that I get to have my face fucked by the prettiest little pussy whenever I please. Get to have your scent all over me. ‘Cause it’s yours, isn’t it, princess?” 
“Yes, sir.” You peep, unable to form another word if your life depended on it. 
Not only were you insanely turned on and dripping because his face was buried between your thighs, but it’s also due to how he speaks to you with such dominance and authority. He could have you on your knees (both literally and figuratively) with the snap of his fingers.
With one more praise of good girl, he dives back in, immediately sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking against it like a man starved. You feel your eyes roll back, a whining desperate mess above him. The tugging on his hair only gets tighter as he grips your hips to keep you against him.
You’re sure there will be marks, and you aren’t mad about it either. You need him tethered to you in every way possible.
He expertly licks through your folds, tongue gently prodding at your entrance as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t fight the whimper that leaves your lips, your pussy fluttering around the tip of his tongue. And when he groans at the feeling, you swear you’re done for.
“Jake,” you gasp, tightening your hold on his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He hums against your cunt, flicking your arousal against your clit before sucking it past his lips once more. 
“Yeah, princess? Feel that sweet little cunt fucking squeezing my tongue. That feel good? Feel good to take what’s yours?”
And before you have time to catch your breath, his tongue finds your entrance again. He wastes no time going harder, faster this time. His tongue fucks into you relentlessly, nose nudging your clit in perfect timing. It’s sloppy and wet and downright sinful.
You can hardly register when it happens, you’re so far gone, but you cum hard against his tongue. Grinding your hips against his tongue to chase the feeling for as long as your body will allow while you cry out his name like a hymn.
And he can’t get enough of it either, ravaging you and swallowing every bit he can muster until you pry yourself off of him. 
You look him over, his mouth, chin, and nose glistening with remnants of you. It’s enough to stir you back up again, your overstimulation be damned. Your lips crash into his, and he’s eager to capture them with his own, maneuvering you to straddle his lap. 
“Fuck, my sweet girl,” he breathes out. “Did so fucking good. Came so hard for me. Could eat that pussy until it suffocates me, I swear.”
You gasp when you feel his hardened cock through his jeans that he wore out make contact with your swollen clit. 
Grinding against him, you whimper against his lips at the new feeling bubbling within your tummy. He groans, feeling the slightest bit of relief as you grind against him. With the amount of wetness you felt between your thighs even after your orgasm, you’re sure that you’re absolutely soaking the fabric.
“This what you want, baby?” He murmurs. “Want my cock? Wanna fuck what’s yours?”
“Please.” You whimper, grinding down against him with a bit more force this time before moving your hips upwards to allow him to undress.
He practically moans when he sees the wet splotch of your arousal on the crotch of his jeans. “Fuck, princess. So fucking wet for me.”
“Jake, please,” you whine, tugging at his pants in an effort to make him move faster. 
“Oh, my needy little thing.” He teases, resuming pulling his pants down along with his boxers. “Just had her pussy fucked with my tongue and can’t wait for more, can you?”
You shake your head no, trying to will yourself to calm down. You don’t want him to think he has the power, even though he knows all too well that he already does.
“I know, princess.” He soothes you with his tone, tossing his pants and boxers on the floor along with your clothes. 
His dick stands tall, pressed against his stomach as precome leaks from the slit on the swollen head. He gives himself two languid strokes with his fist, hissing at the feeling. “Can’t wait to have you wrapped up around me…all tight and sweet and warm- fuck, come here, baby. Take it. Take what’s yours.” 
You’re quick to crawl back to him, desperate to have him inside of you as you grasp his shoulders for balance. Using one hand, you grasp him, whimpering when you feel his crown just lining up with your weeping hole. 
Jake holds your waist, patiently waiting for you to sink down around him. And when you do, you could cry from how good and full you feel already. You keen as you feel the familiar and pleasurable sting that only happens when he’s this deep inside you. 
“Shit,” He hisses, fighting the urge to fuck upwards into you. “Feels so good, princess. This cock is yours, baby. Everything is yours.”
And that’s more than enough to encourage you to begin riding him, rolling your hips back and forth at an even pace. You whine and mewl from above him as he holds your waist, encouraging you with each movement you make.
You’re both a complete wreck already. Jake is already so close to coming and you’d hardly started moving your hips against him.
“Whose cock is this?”
You hated when he made you talk. You could listen to him go on and on all day about nothing that truly mattered (especially in bed). But you hate having to talk as well. You feel like you were nowhere near as good at it as he is.
In hopes that he’ll somehow forget what he asked, you resume your movements and peel your eyes away, beginning to go faster in hopes that you’ll truly distract him. But that sure as hell doesn’t work.
“Uh-uh,” He scolds, using his free hand to take your chin and turn it to face him. Eye-to-eye. “Eyes on me, princess. Now tell me whose cock this is. Wanna hear you, sweet girl. Tell me nice and loud.”
You’re embarrassed. If your cheeks could turn any darker in this moment, you’re sure they would. And you don’t want to answer him, suddenly bashful even when he’s buried inside of you as you bounce on his cock. 
Displeased with your lack of a response, he angles his hips upwards, meeting you halfway to send himself deeper into the depths of your cunt. It catches you off guard to say the least, but only causes you to move faster, further onto him to chase that feeling again.
“It’s mine, sir,” you whine, words rushed and breathless. “It’s mineit’smineit’smine!” You continue, drunk off his cock and so close to coming you can’t hardly stand it.
Jake groans, continuing to push his hips upwards. “Yes, princess. My good fucking girl. It��s fucking yours.”
You want him to come harder than he ever has; want his cum deep inside you because it really is yours. He’s yours.
“Taking me so well, princess.” He pants. “Riding me so fucking good. Go on, baby. Want you to come again. Soak my cock, baby.”
Your words become mush, incoherent babbles as you continue fucking yourself on him. You can’t hardly breathe anymore, your chest heaving for breath as you feel the knot inside of you threatening to snap.
“Oh, princess…” he coos, “My dumb little baby. Can’t even get a word out when my cock’s buried inside you. Can’t even help it, can you?” He snaps his hips upwards more forcefully than before, an unforgiving pace that allows you some sort of reprieve from the burning in your thighs.
The moan that rips from your chest would have caused you to curl in on yourself in embarrassment, but right now you can’t seem to care. The way he’s fucking into you, the way he’s speaking to you…it’s too much for your already fucked-out brain to handle.
“Gonna come!” You muster out, your voice cracking as you grip his shoulders tighter.
“Yeah?” Jake taunts, still snapping into you as your pussy contracts around him. “Do it, princess. I can feel you fucking squeezing me so tight- fuck, baby. Gonna make me fucking come, aren’t you?”
You want to answer him; you really do. But all you can muster is a nod as your orgasm rips through you, your mouth dropping open and your cunt locking down around Jake as it fights to keep him inside. Your ears ring as you pulse around him, unsure if you’re making noise or not at this point. 
Jake’s orgasm washes over him, choking out a moan of your name as he buries himself as far as he can. He spills inside of you, cum spurting from his swollen tip and into you. You feel him coating your walls as your vision returns to you, his eyebrows furrowed and sweat glimmering his forehead. 
God, he’s beautiful all the time, but especially like this.
The two of you are a breathless mess, feeling the his cum mixing with yours as it seeps down your inner thighs. You breathe out a laugh, your forehead falling against his as he wraps his arm around you.
“I’m yours, princess.” His voice is as soft as silk as he traces his fingertips along your spine. “You know that don’t you?”
You smile, lashes fluttering as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes your heart feel warm – even when you don’t deserve it; even when you’re acting like a brat.
“I do now.” You tease, attempting to bite back a smile but ultimately failing when you hear him giggle.
“Oh, princess,” He tightens his arms around you. “What are we gonna do with you?”
Share your thoughts/feedback! | Masterlist
547 notes · View notes
joshym · 1 month
Text
Muse
Tumblr media
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.
Word Count: 3.4k+
Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)
a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.
this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)
as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.
i hope you enjoy. ♡
“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.
It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.  
He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.
In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.
Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.
But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.
You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness. 
And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive. 
Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client. 
It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work. 
But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs. 
And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.
There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless. 
The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.
He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind. 
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice. 
He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.
“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands. 
“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.
With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.
"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."
“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work. 
Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being. 
After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.
You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once. 
His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.
And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.
The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura. 
He’s flawless. Everything about him.
Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.
Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now. 
The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight. 
“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.
While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.
“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk. 
As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.
“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”
You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.
He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck. 
“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.
With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over. 
The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric. 
You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.
And with that, you're poised and ready.
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging. 
This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going. 
“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door. 
As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.
“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago. 
“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.” 
As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently. 
“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.” 
Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath. 
“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”
“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”
With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.
“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head. 
You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette. 
The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light. 
“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body. 
He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.
“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade. 
With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet. 
And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.
He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence. 
You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips. 
But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body. 
Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression. 
Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor. 
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.
He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you. 
As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck. 
“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.
It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known. 
“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice. 
“It’s…incredible, Jake.” 
Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body. 
Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them. 
You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.
He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.
“Is this what I really look like?”
“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”
Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp. 
His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands. 
He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.
“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”
And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity. 
“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth. 
��Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you. 
He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions. 
And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being. 
You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.  
He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.
“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”
“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him. 
Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.
“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock. 
“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”
You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.” 
He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him. 
Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you. 
Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.  
His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure. 
You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.
Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.” 
With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.
“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release. 
“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax. 
“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested. 
He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs. 
You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with. 
You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth. 
“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek. 
You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand. 
“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch. 
“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.” 
“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.” 
His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.
“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 
.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.
a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.
if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡
love you guys.
taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)
@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge
Masterlist
248 notes · View notes
jaketsparrow · 2 months
Text
SOMETHING... | JTK
Tumblr media
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader
Word Count: 10.6K
Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…
A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :) 
Playlist
*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist
MINORS DNI
MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth. 
The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy. 
There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern. 
He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all. 
Professor Kiszka on the other hand… 
When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man. 
You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him. 
3 Months Ago
The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad. 
The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?
Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.
Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last. 
Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…
“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone. 
“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off. 
You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears. 
Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”
“Just for you.” 
And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare. 
The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather. 
You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room. 
The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway. 
You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…
One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room. 
It was empty. 
The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work. 
You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.
You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away. 
Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever.  A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.
“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway. 
You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. 
You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover. 
“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond. 
He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level. 
He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”
“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you. 
“-Your favorite?” He asks. 
You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry? 
“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him. 
You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point. 
He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?” 
You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite. 
“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer. 
He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.” 
He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table. 
“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously. 
You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process. 
“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort. 
He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.” 
Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.
“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”
He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat. 
“You don’t approve?” He scoffs. 
“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.” 
“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”
You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber. 
“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly. 
You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart. 
He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger. 
“Please, call me Jacob.” 
You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips. 
“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”
You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake. 
His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand. 
“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…” 
You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”
 He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings. 
“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”
You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.
“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him. 
Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite. 
Present
In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve. 
Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try. 
Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress. 
You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items. 
One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation. 
“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so? 
“You look like a pirate.” You responded. 
A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked. 
His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth. 
When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.
You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag. 
He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there? 
This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.
“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”
Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement. 
“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago. 
“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.
He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…” 
You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”
He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”
Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave. 
“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.” 
The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up. 
You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him. 
He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you. 
You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him. 
You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.” 
He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.” 
You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him. 
You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.
A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard. 
“Hey.” He prods. 
You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands. 
“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption. 
“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues. 
No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…
You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.” 
He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.” 
Two Hours Later
Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.
The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?
You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction. 
You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product. 
Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too. 
Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance. 
Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it. 
Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello. 
You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.  
You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript. 
You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old. 
You press play and lower the needle onto the music. 
Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold. 
Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…
You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity. 
You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete. 
You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important… 
The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…
 You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar. 
The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels. 
Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.” 
He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass.  He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face. 
You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily. 
“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter. 
You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before. 
“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”
“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?” 
You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you. 
He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..” 
You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters. 
“Oh, dear god.” You sigh. 
“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”
“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.” 
He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.
“Want to know something funny?” He questions. 
You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue. 
“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”
You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot. 
“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.” 
He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.” 
Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care? 
“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-” 
“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”
He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him. 
“Did I offend you?” You ask.
“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.” 
“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate. 
“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...” 
You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.
“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.” 
He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down. 
He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks. 
Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you. 
No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you. 
The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page. 
“See this paragraph here?” He questions. 
You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement 
You need to focus. 
You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?” 
He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.” 
You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost. 
“What…? What problem?” 
You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist. 
He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ” 
You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside. 
You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible. 
“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”
Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from. 
“Professor-” You initiate.
“Jacob.” He replies. 
“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.” 
He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”
You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all… 
Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.
You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin. 
“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-” 
“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”
You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand. 
“You… You were?” He searches for the answer. 
“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off. 
“But?” He inquires. 
You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber. 
“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.” 
Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression. 
“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. 
You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction. 
“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said. 
“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you. 
You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in. 
“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”
“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”
He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.” 
You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?” 
“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.” 
He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.
“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”
“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone
You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared. 
“How rough are we talking…” You prod. 
The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.” 
You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private. 
You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before… 
Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting. 
His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles. 
“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”
You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest. 
His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language. 
He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood. 
“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”
“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter. 
You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your… 
His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.” 
“Yes-”
Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck. 
His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing. 
You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect. 
His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you. 
He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off. 
“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked. 
You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from. 
“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down. 
“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.    
He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.
“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?” 
You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”
He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”
Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments. 
“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice. 
He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely. 
“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.” 
The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on. 
He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion. 
“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.” 
You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own. 
His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses. 
“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”
His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him. 
“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…” 
Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease. 
His kisses start to graze you closer to your… 
He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means. 
“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.” 
He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm. 
“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”
“Good girl.”
Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you. 
Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-” 
Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to. 
His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder. 
“Green?” He asks, looking for permission. 
You nodded your head ferociously  
You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop. 
“Words.” He barked. 
Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…” 
“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.
“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg. 
The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again. 
He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding. 
Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room. 
“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”
You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you. 
His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks. 
“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?” 
Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now. 
“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”
Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you. 
He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity. 
“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”
He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once. 
He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending.  It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more. 
You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you. 
Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore. 
“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation. 
He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end. 
Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness… 
He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped… 
Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen. 
A knock at the classroom door. 
“Hello?” Someone called out. 
There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew. 
“Everything okay in here Kiszka?” 
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”
306 notes · View notes
gretavanlace · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Sugar II (part 9)
Jake Kiszka x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: graphic sexual content, angst, language, the tiniest amount of alcohol consumption, digital penetration, masturbation, oral sex (fem rec), anal play, unprotected sex, etc
Okay, sweet peas, we’ve got one more chapter to go (maaaaybe two idk), but all your favorites will be back! Plus an epilogue. Thank you so much for sticking with me after I did sugar jake so dirty the first time around ❤️
The air is lush and fragrant with herbs, sizzling eggs, and Jake when you wake - though his side of the bed has already cooled.
He’s all around you. Clothes and scuffed boots tossed about the room. Guitar case propped open sans Gibson - where has she gone? The scent of his skin clinging to yours. The gentle bustle of him milling around in the kitchen. You roll over and shamelessly bury your face in the pillow he rested his pretty head upon last night. Drawing him in with a shiver of content…he is home and you are basking in the comfort that is the great return.
He’s humming something to himself, and though you can barely hear - and you certainly can’t place the song - you try to hum along, laughing quietly to yourself when it comes out sounding muddled and strange as you search for a melody you don’t know.
It doesn’t matter. If he’s humming, you want to hum along. You’d like to walk beside him always, twisted and tangled together like a silken braid of devotion.
Seduced by his silly siren’s song, your feet hit the floor as you search for something to throw on. You settle on the black blazer he’s tossed over the back of a chair and pad down the hallway. Lulled and lured by his quiet chaos.
You find him, back to the doorway, gingerly shaking a pan with one hand and tossing what looks to be diced veggies with the other, totally at ease and at home. A gorgeous, disheveled chef complete with yesterday’s sweats, t shirt that’s torn at the neck, and tangled hair.
Should you stand and watch him awhile? It sounds tempting…to watch him work, a sneaky, head over heels fly on the wall. The way he moves, every shift of muscle is intoxicating. Yes, you are bewitched, but even standing here bathed in his presence, you miss him, and that wins out.
”Morning, Jakey,” you smile, breaking his concentration.
”There’s my sugar,” he tosses you a look over his shoulder that stops your heart. “I’m making you breakfast, my love. Would you like coffee or tea?”
Bare feet dancing over chilled tile, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your cheek between his shoulder blades, “Whatever you’re having.”
He backs up a little, no doubt worrying about your arms - though they are protected by his jacket - being too near to the stove, and turns, pulling you closer while walking you backwards towards the island, “How about we share a cup of tea? You hungry?”
Flashes of memories burn through your brain…last night, in the foyer wrapped up together on the floor while he kissed your body and wept. On the couch while you talked about how exactly this all might work. Later, in a bed that wasn’t yours, in sheets you wouldn’t wash.
You should be thoroughly sated, but yes…you are hungry.
”How’d I get so lucky, little girl?” His lips curve into a grin that derails your thoughts and replaces them with something much softer. Your heart is weak for the look in his eyes…the unapologetic, worshipful love that blazes there. “How did I manage to earn this?”
”Earn what?” You smile back, praying that the emotion pounding in your heart is as evident in your gaze as it is in his, “Us?”
His eyes duck away with a shy nod, “I just never thought I’d have you like this again. In my arms, not going anywhere. Staying.”
Your fingertips are at his cheeks, sweeping over the perfect warmth of his skin, soft as air, “Jake, you didn’t earn anything. You’ve always held my heart.”
Still unwilling to meet your gaze, he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “You took it away.”
”No,” you argue in a hush. Can he really not see? “I left it with you. You’re the only reason it beats, anyway. But if you don’t feed me soon, I fear I may perish.”
”Drama queen.” He grins, pecking your cheeks each in turn, grateful that you’ve eased his mind and calmed his tender nerves.
The kettle begins to scream and you patter off to the table tucked into the corner, homey and quaint, to watch him work to take care of you. Soon, you’re gifted a steaming mug along with another kiss dropped atop your head. “Splash of rum and a sprinkle of cinnamon, sugar. It’s 9 o’clock in the morning, you lush.”
”Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me, Jake?” You tease back, watching as he moves to finish things up at the stove, throat seizing with aching affection…he remembers how you take your tea.
”I don’t have to get you inebriated for that,” he sounds gravelly and full of himself, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I could fuck you however and wherever I so felt the inclination, my lovely little doll, and you would grace me with your gracious and enthusiastic appreciation.”
You bat your lashes wildly at him as he presents two plates heaped with brightly colored, expertly sautéed vegetables and fluffy, scrambled eggs like cheery, sunny clouds. A bowl of swollen, fuschia raspberries deposited between your plates like a pile of sweetened jewels steals the show. “Oh, be still my heart…you know how I enjoy it when you speak like a dictionary.”
”I know, sugar,” there’s that beaming smile of his again as he offers you a berry, lightly teasing it at your lips until you open up for him. “plenty more where that came from.”
A comfortable quiet sparks to life as you both dig in and pass the teacup back and forth. He finally breaks it, speaking up around a bite of potatoes and peppers. “I spoke to Josh this morning.”
”And how is your missing piece?” You quirk an eyebrow over the top of the cup you have now commandeered.
He leans back in his chair and settles his gaze upon you, clocking your expression closely, searching for a reaction. “Obnoxious as ever. He’s annoyed with me because I haven’t looked over the lyric revisions he sent me, and I certainly couldn’t care less if I actively tried. However, he’s very excited to see you. Cross though he might be with his dear brother.”
”Hello, Oliver,” you wink, “Let’s have Jacob back, shall we?”
You haven’t forgotten Jake’s tendency for trotting out Mr. Reed when he’s dipping a toe or two into the waters of vulnerability.
“Do you miss him?” He asks quietly, “Do you want things to be the way they were before? Because I can live with that if it means you’ll stay.” He rushes on as if he fears he may lose his nerve. “I want you to be happy, whatever it takes, I just want you to be happy.”
Fork clinking lightly against your plate as your focus zeros in on his lovely face, you lean forward and reach for his hand “Did he tell you he came to see me? After I ran into Danny that day?”
His fingers slip into your waiting palm with a soft squeeze, “He mentioned that he found you and asked you hide away until we’d gone. I’ve never wanted to hurt him as badly as I did then. Not even when we were young and stupid. Not even that night, when he forced me to let you go.”
“He was only trying to protect you, jake.” Your head tilts, watching residual pain flare to life in his eyes. “I’ve done a great many things to hurt you, it’s a wonder he doesn’t hate me for it.”
“He could never hate you, sugar. Don’t say things like that, it would break his heart to hear them.” The conviction in his words is fierce, and that makes sense…they share a life force at times, it seems.
“He did ask me to hide away, yes…” you nod, wrapping your free hand around his knuckles, warming his touch with your own, “But did he tell you anything else about our visit? Did he tell you how easy it was for us? How we caught up and laughed and looked at each other like very old friends that had been lost to each other for too many years?”
His shoulders tense as though he’s bracing for a gentle impact, but on you march, whispering to him in this unfamiliar kitchen that feels fat full of love.
”Did he tell you that it didn’t even hurt, our being in the same room with everything so fucking different? Did he know that all I could do was sit there, falling silently apart and searching for you in his eyes?”
“But you loved him.” Now it’s his turn to search your eyes, but for what you’re not sure. “I don’t want you to have to tamp that out. Not ever. You love so beautifully, sugar. I can share.”
”I did love him,” you nod. “Very much. A long time ago. I love him still. Differently. And not the way I love you. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. You don’t have to share. Not anymore.”
His grip is pulling at you now, tugging you to your feet and into his arms, creaking the worn wood of his chair beneath the weight of you both as he buries his face into your bare chest, hiding his tears in the lapels of his blazer as he weeps into your skin.
“Shh, baby,” you soothe, stroking through his hair, holding onto him as he clings to you as if you might vanish like a sigh.
His face tilts upward, lips brushing over your chin and jaw, licking and tasting you through his tears. “I love you, sugar. Sometimes I feel like all this love I have for you is just going to break me into pieces, like I can’t hold it all inside. There’s no room for it. I’m too small.”
”Jake,” you feel like you could break into pieces right alongside him as he begins tugging his jacket away from your shoulders.
He shakes his head, hushing you silently, “So, I’m going to take all this love and I’m going to give it all to you. And I’m gonna fill our house with it, press it into the walls and let it seep into the floorboards. Every nail and every window is going to feel it. The pipes and hinges. The chimney is going to breathe it into the night when we light fires in the winter. And we’re going to have babies and I’m going to love them just as much, and I can’t wait to watch you love them…”
You feel baptized in his tears and the wet, warm press of his mouth as he tattoos beautiful promises into your flesh. How could you ever have believed that you wanted anything other than this?
“I’m going to exist for you every single day, sugar…” a sob escapes him, though he tries so hard to bite it back, “I already do…I always have.”
“I know, baby…it’s okay,” you’re kissing adoration into his hair, combing your fingers through the tangles, coddling him and cooing the softest endearments, desperate to mollify his soul, fraught to offer him peace. “Please don’t cry, jakey. You know I can’t stand it.”
Hearing his own words lilting off of your tongue, he pauses and gazes up into your eyes like he sees everything he’ll ever need in them, “When I said that to you, I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be…gone. I didn’t want to live in a world where you wore his ring on your finger with tears in your eyes. Will you miss him?”
Should you lie? Perhaps. But wouldn’t he see the untruths lying bare? Wouldn’t that hurt even worse? Your deception?
“Yes,” you nod, petting him as he presses in closer, “he was kind to me, and sweet. He made me laugh. He made me half-way happy enough to pretend. I’ll miss him sometimes…but never enough to look back and regret chasing after you.”
“I’m glad he was kind to you,” he whispers, kissing a drunken, winding path across the tops of your breasts, “you deserve kind. He loved you, I could see that. I didn’t want to, but I could. And maybe I hated that, but I would have hated the alternative so much more. I’m sure he loves you still.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you laugh softly, “he wasn’t very pleased with me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sugar,” he stares up at you with eyes laced heavily in adulation, “you don’t leave a man alone so easily. You linger and overstay your welcome in the worst way. Learn to leave a room, sweetheart.”
He has pulled another laugh out of you, louder and bell like this time…it twists his heart with heated, pulsing adoration.
”Jake,” you pause, waiting for him to give you his honey brown eyes, “You were right when you said none of it matters. This matters.” Your palm finds your heartbeat for a moment, and then his own.
”I know, my love…” tears skate along his lash line like blissful, shimmering quartz, “I know.”
~
His mouth is at your throat, gentle hand splaying out across your abdomen, holding you down against the cool, polished wood of the table.
Fingers playing at your lips, he breaks a raspberry apart between his fingers before sweeping it over your waiting tongue. “You’re so beautiful, sugar. Aren’t you? Aren’t you my pretty, pretty girl?”
His shirt has landed on the tile, forgotten and worthless to this task at shaking hand.
“Yes,” nails digging into his shoulders to remind him of where you’ve been, of where your touch belongs, you nod fervently beneath his kiss, “I’m your pretty girl, Jakey. I’m your girl.”
Lips beginning a path up your cheek to your temple, he hums euphorically and grasps at your ankles, tugging gingerly until your heels are resting on the table. “Will you show me?” His voice is silken and inquisitive, tongue fluttering over your earlobe to bring chills to life inside you. “Hmm? Will you show me how pretty you are for me?”
”Anything,” you pant, arching away from the table, desperate to be closer to him as he pulls back.
You watch on, body throbbing and screaming for him while he pops a raspberry into his mouth and settles back into his chair, legs spread wide, hands fisted into flexing balls at his knees, “Touch yourself for me, sugar. Rub your sweet little clit, nice and slow, just for me.”
Maybe you’d like to say your body protests, maybe you ought to say that you shy away, maybe if you weren’t so indescribably in love with him you’d do both of those things, but as it stands….
….as it stands, you give him what he’s asked for without thought. There isn’t a breath of hesitation. You simply roll two fingers over your tongue, reach down between your thighs, and begin.
The hushed moan that tumbles off the tip of your tongue tugs a sigh from his lungs that sets you further on fire. He sounds so beautiful, so wholly under a spell that you can’t fathom having the ability to cast over this deity of a man.
“There’s my good girl,” he is so quiet, you’d scarcely hear him were your focus not so completely honed in on jake jake jake, “Does that feel good, little girl? Is my sugar making that pretty pink pussy feel just so nice?”
He is an obscene angel staring you down with snarled hair and wicked sin in his wild eyes.
A trembling sound is all you’re able to manage as your touch dips inside yourself to draw slick back up to your clit.
”Yeah?” he tilts his head, watching you reverently, “It looks like it does. You’re dripping all over the table. I want to lick it up.”
“Please,” your fingers circle faster, but something is missing. He, close though he might be, is missing.
”Please, what?” He sounds as needy and hungry as you feel. “Tell me what you want me to do to you and I’ll do it, baby. Whatever you want…I’ll fucking do it.”
”Your mouth,” your legs spread wider until your hips protest, and then you spread a little wider in offering. “I’d like to have your mouth please, Jakey. Please. lick me, please, please.”
A groan rumbles out of his chest like pained thunder as he wraps his arms around your thighs, tugging you in and burying his mouth exactly where you’ve so politely begged for it. Another anguished sound pushes from his lungs as he drinks down his first mouthful of you.
The tip of his tongue teases over your shivering clit, and then slinks down to dip inside you, and then down farther still to lap against that heavenly little spot where it shouldn’t be.
He hums against you while you whine and yank at his hair, pulling his kiss in closer as your hips lift away from the wood you’re making such a mess of.
“Fuck,” your fingers lace through his hair perhaps just a bit too tightly, but a quiet grunt signals his appreciation, “right there.”
“I know where you like my mouth every now and then, sugar,” his words are hot against you as his thumb slides, warm and thick, inside your cunt “Dirty girl.”
Watching you shy away so endearingly squeezes at his chest. You have always given yourself to him so completely. You have always been his girl. His mouth has known every breathtaking inch of your body in a hundred different lifetimes. His heart has known your heart in a thousand more.
Your fingers search out your clit, neglected and crying out for attention, completing that lovely trifecta as you rock your hips, fucking his face without shame.
He is yours and you will take him.
Your belly is burning, white hot and tight, coiling and churning as your body begins to tremble and flush.
“Gonna cum…” A complete sentence seems an impossible task “I— oh, please, please, please,”
His fingers replace his thumb with a feral growl low in his throat, tucking up in behind your clit as you watch his arm begin to move rhythmically below the table.
”Don’t cum,” you order through whimpers and whines that sound anything but authoritative. How difficult it proves to be to be bossy when his tongue is warm and wet where you shouldn’t adore it so damn much.
”I won’t,” his promise is beautifully muffled. “But I want you to do it. Cum for me, fuck doll…give it up pretty.”
You tighten deliciously around his searching tongue and delving fingers as it crawls through you like sinking into a warm bath that swirls with glittering, lilac goldfish. They kiss your skin soft as monarch wings; strange, swimming beings in the waters that are Jacob. It is lovely, though given the filth that has ushered you into this state, maybe that makes no sense.
He works you carefully until your breathing begins to stutter and gasp uncomfortably, and then there is his striking and stunning face - cheeks blazing with desire - kissing and licking up your body as you squirm languidly.
“Was that good, baby?” His teeth are dragging against the swell of your breast now, igniting a fire within you anew.
Jacob, always so cocksure and confident, sounds famished for your approval. How strange.
You hand it over willingly and honestly, on a silver platter of affection, “So, good, Jakey…I love you so much.”
“You taste like fucking candy everywhere,” his praise is little more than a whispered murmur as he buries into the crook of your neck, “I want you in my mouth and under my fingertips forever, for fucking always.”
The tip of his cock, full and hot like velvet, sweeps across your entrance, teasing inside just a breath before pulling back and then nudging in all over again.
“Put it in,” your fingers are clawing lazily at his hips, silently trying to guide him into action, “Fuck Jake, please baby, just slip it inside and—“
He grinds his hips forward, cutting you off, filling you up, pulsing and slick and hot and…
”My girl,” his words are humid at your throat as he whimpers through a physical shudder. “My sugar, my love. That’s my baby, that’s it…taking it so well. You feel so fucking good.”
His wandering fingers find and sweep over your clit with a glide as sweet as satin, and it has you clenching down around him so wildly his eyes snap shut with a furrowed brow, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.
Buried to the hilt now, those eyes lull open to stare down where your bodies connect. “Looks so pretty stretched around my cock. How’d this little cunt ever get so beautiful?”
Your cheek turns to meet the cool of the oak you're draped across, embarrassed in the most blissful way, but he is positively weak for the way his words cause your thighs to tighten around his waist.
His name begins to burn out of your lungs, smoking into the sun-soaked kitchen like a prayer.
”That’s it,” he sounds faraway, like he’s crooning to you from across the room, “My name, sugar…always my name.”
And then, there is his thumb, soaked in your need and brushing against that spot just below where his cock is dragging in and out of your cunt.
A wanton cry for more bleeds out of you, bringing forth another knit of his brow as he sinks inside you to follow the deep thrust of his cock, “‘Oh my’, right sugar? Isn’t that how my fuck doll reacts? All sweet like a lady, to being filled up so full?”
His loving, mocking tone snatches you back full circle to that very first night with him that seems so long ago…he has been all you’ve ever wanted, ever since. He is all you will ever want.
He is every direction, the night and the day, every song ever written…every poem ever wept onto pages, every star that will light the skyline tonight and all the ones that came before. He is every beat of your pulse, every breath in your lungs - and when you breathe your last, it will be his name on your lips.
White explodes behind your eyes as fireworks detonate down deep inside you, sparkling a crackling-like frenetic energy throughout your nervous system until you are tightened up and writhing with it…cumming so hard, so fucking hard, that you nearly force his beautiful cock right out of your body.
He follows your lead and pulls away, tugging at himself violently as you shower down over him like the filthiest, most exquisite drops of summer-of-love rain.
“Oh fuck, sugar, please,” he’s whining as his release lands hot and frantic against your quivering stomach, but for what, neither of you know.
You’re lost in his faraway expression, watching him fight for a deep breath as you search for your own composure when your fingers sweep through a milky ribbon painted across your navel…you want to taste him, but his grip is wrapped firmly around your wrist in an instant, with your fingers nestled against his cashmere tongue.
“I’ll clean my pretty girl up myself, if she doesn’t mind.” His mouth brushes soothingly at your hip just before he begins licking up his own release, eyes cast upwards to your own as you shake, stunned and blissfully shellshocked.
At last, you find your voice as his bubblegum pink tongue curls over the last drop, “You taste good, don’t you, Jakey?”
“Not as good as you, sugar,” His mouth is on yours now, kissing far too sweetly for what you know him to be capable of. “not even close.”
“Shower?” He pops another raspberry into your mouth and then nuzzles against your nose.
”Bath.” You correct, nearly melting into the table beneath his love.
~
A sponge, fresh out of its package and now smothered in body wash, drags across your chest as his chest rests against your back.
”We leave tonight?’ Your voice sounds unfamiliar…too content, too relaxed. It’s been such a long time since you’ve sounded this way. Since you’ve been so completely happy.
”I wish we could stay longer,” he kisses at your drenched, now squeaky clean hair, “just you and me.”
”Me too,” you sigh, settling back into his embrace even more, “but I’m also excited to see those idiots you call brothers. Especially the baby.”
”He’s missed you.” More kisses to clutch at your already stolen heart. “Nothing was the same without you, sugar. Time to come home.”
Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @jakesgrapejuice @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove
231 notes · View notes
fleet-of-fiction · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Jake Kiszka // Female Reader
Summary: Jake's time off is driving you crazy. You still have to work from home and he's demanding your attention. During an important phone call, he decides to take matters into his own hands. And mouth.
A/N: Enjoy this smutty little blurb I've been rolling around in my mouth for a few weeks. It's slightly self indulgent. But certainly a little something I felt needed to be shared.
Warnings: Oral sex f. Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Deprivation.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He was bored. Lingering in the space where you'd tried to close the door and he'd caught it, a look of boyish indignation on his face that let you know he wasn't about to let you get any work done.
"If the shoe was on the other foot..." You sighed. "And I disturbed you like this in the studio, you'd be furious."
There wasn't any desire to reject his playful insistence that you pay him some attention. There was nothing more that you wanted than to close your inbox and switch your phone off. To go downstairs with him and get settled on the couch with a glass of wine and let him delicately work his way up your body as you tried to watch a movie.
But deadlines were sat there, making your heart sink and your patience wear ever increasingly more thin. Never more so than when your love was home. His guitar case closed, the need to satisfy weeks of salacious messages exchanged from the tour bus and hotel rooms.
"Furiously turned on." He replied, flashing you a grin that sent flutters down from your stomach into the ebb of your aching core.
"Jake." You moaned, "Go and find something else to do."
You knew he wouldn't. You knew he would continue to watch you type out irrelevant e-mails and feel the mounting arousal in his gaze as you simmered under a barely there thong and t-shirt. Inappropriate to wear in an office, but a sight for sore eyes as you sat at the little desk in the corner of the house.
"There's nothing else I want to do in this house, than you." He complained, adorning the most rage inducing pout you'd ever seen.
You considered setting aside your tasks. To let him fawn over you a little while. Let him have a taste of everything he had missed, just enough to slake his need. To make him less deprived. There was mischief in his eyes and you could never squander the opportunity to see what his boredom could conjure.
"Give me five minutes." You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully but knowing his triumph would bring you to a valiant end.
He tilted his chin. Let the corners of his mouth turn upward. Smug. Like you'd put up a genuine fight. Basking in the glory of his defeat of your intention to continue working. And you would have let him have it, were it not for the tiny little name flashing up on your screen moments later.
Your boss. A name which never usually invoked much of a reaction, but as your attention began to wander it felt as if you could have slipped your phone underneath the pile of paperwork you were yet to complete and simply ignore it.
Jake watched closely to see what you would do. Shaking his head slowly as you swiped your thumb across the screen and mouthed a pathetic 'sorry' as you took the call.
That was your first mistake. To think that he would simply honour your decision to derail his mounting desire. The second was to think that he wouldn't continue in his quest to pull you away from your work load.
"I'm looking at that file right now." You said, spinning your chair around to face the computer, Jake's reflection sitting behind the ceaseless words and numbers you needed to make sense of. "No, there doesn't appear to be any anomalies. But I can double check the numbers for you and get them back to you in the next hour."
No sooner had you made that promise, you felt your chair being spun back around. Jake, on his knees, a serious expression etched on his face as he silently pleaded with you to let him have his way.
"Yes, of course." You continued, holding the phone to your ear whilst widening your eyes. "If all the files need checking I can oversee that for you."
You let your boss speak about numbers and figures. Checking and double checking files. The monotonous drone of their voice fading away as you felt the lace edge of your thong slide down your thighs. Jake, without any regard for what your boss might hear, spread your legs and licked his lips at the sight of it.
"Yes, I'm still here." You tried to focus, almost audibly moaning at the sensation of his hands moving your thighs apart. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"
He was evil for this. The daring glint in his eye as he looked up at you. The sensation of his hair as it brushed against your inner thigh. All the ways in which he brought you back to him, even as you tried to keep your focus elsewhere. He knew the battle for your attention was one that he would always win, but he enjoyed the fight. And you were powerless to stop him. Resolve dissolving as you gripped the phone a little tighter.
You let him lean you back into the arms of the office chair. Raising your knees, letting them fall open as he sank into the gravitational pull of your throbbing pussy.
"Mmmm'hmmm." You hummed, perhaps in agreeance with something your boss said, but mostly at the brush of Jake's tongue as it swept across your outer lips.
The fragility of your voice was going to be the thing which gave you away. The gentle laps of his mouth as it licked the length of your slit, causing you to arch your spine where you sat, would be your undoing.
"Of course." You carried on, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think those were the files I sent over to you last week... Yes, in the blue...folder."
You caught a look of pure unadulterated satisfaction in the way he almost made you unravel. Using two calloused finger tips to open you up even wider. Holding your pussy lips apart, he set his mouth against your swollen clit. Padding the flat of his tongue against it, causing the nerves to awaken and send a flood of arousal to every muscle and sinew in your body. All your joints became loose, and you almost dropped the phone.
"I'll have to draft up some templates." You felt ridiculous, speaking of such ordinary things whilst you were being subjected to a depraved act of sexual rebellion.
He was practically drinking from you as he pressed his nose up against your mound. Letting his mouth take all of you in. Sucking in your lips so that his tongue could reach your entrance. Feeling the sudden rush of blood to your head as his tongue ventured inside.
Your head fell back as he probed you with it. The all consuming need to take a fist of his hair and moan at the way he took you there like that had you tempted to hang up.
"No, I can get that done for you by Friday." You assured, inwardly begging and pleading for the conversation to end.
When he came up to catch his breath, you were smothered across the lower half of his face. Mouth and chin saturated in pussy juice as he ran a palm over the whisks of facial hair that glistened. He stared at you with half closed lids, like he was lost to his arousal and didn't see the phone in your hand anymore.
"Keep talking, baby." He whispered, gathering your t-shirt in a closed fist, pulling you towards his sticky mouth.
There was no doubt in your mind that the kiss would travel down the airwaves. The sound your throat made as his mouth made contact. The uncontrollable whimper that was breathy and almost silent, but not quite. The sound of his tongue as it travelled against yours, the taste of what he'd swallowed now in your mouth as you tried to hold yourself steady against the ramblings going on at the other end of the receiver.
And then the inevitable question came. Is everything alright over there? As if you could tear yourself away from his sweet breath. You kept your tongue in his mouth far longer than you'd anticipated. And when the response came, it was almost met with suspicion.
"Yes." You replied swiftly, feeling foolish for being so reckless. "Everything's fine. My apologies, what was it you were saying about the new deadline?"
He almost fell to laughter. Seeing the crimson in your cheeks and the heavy flush in the flesh at your throat. Positively wrecked by his assault. And nowhere near to being done with it.
The blurred lines between decency were ruined. All you could do was submit. Your chest heaving in shallow breaths as he lingered at your mouth with his parted slightly. Not kissing, but savouring the way your lips were a little swollen from the pressure of his mouth against them.
"Mute them." He instructed, "They don't want to hear this."
You swallowed thickly. Swiping over the little mic icon until it was crossed out. Your boss carried on talking, little musings that required no response but information you no doubt needed in order to get the next lot of projects done.
"Whatever it is you're planning on doing, do it quickly." You urged, letting him slide the phone out of your hand and place it screen down on the pile of unfinished paperwork.
"Hold on tight." He said, causing you to grip the arms of the chair in trepidation.
Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up, he exposed your breasts and rose on his knees to meet them. His body pressed up against you, warm and tender. He wasted no time in taking what he wanted. Sucking your nipple violently into his mouth as he penetrated you with two of the most delicious fingers.
And then you knew why he'd wanted that conversation muted. The sound of your wetness pounding against his knuckles was utterly pornographic. Teeth bore down into your flesh as you threw your head back and you began panting wildly at the way he punched into you. Flecks of pussy juice flicked onto your thighs, spreading up his forearm as he fucked into you with his hand.
Your entire body was shaking with the onslaught. The chair practically ready to fall back as he curled his fingers inside you and applied the most delicious pressure on those places he loved to tease the most. You couldn't breathe. Your legs felt entirely weak. Your senses heightened.
"Taking phone calls when you've promised to fuck me." He admonished, bringing his mouth to your ear as your breasts bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna teach you never to make promises like that, baby."
You loved how he made you a sloppy mess. Looking into your eyes as he vigorously forced his fingers inside you as far as they would go. Watching your brow furrow and your jaw go slack, nose wrinkled in a look of absolute hedonistic pleasure. If this was a punishment, it didn't feel much like one.
"I'm gonna lose my job, baby..." You whimpered, letting him slow to a steady pace, his fingers sliding in and out as your pussy lips pulled against saturated knuckles. "I really....fuck...I have to get back to this call..."
You could see how worked up he was. A little edge of disappointment as you picked your phone back up, your boss still prattling on as if you'd been listening the entire time. You kept eye contact with him, listening to the way your pussy sounded now that he'd ruined it.
"That all sounds fine." You interjected, "I should probably go and get a head start on all of this."
Jakes thumb was rolling around your clit. Pulling back the hood, pressing down on it like it was a big red button that shouldn't be pressed. Begging to be detonated. Your breath still lingering on errant moans you didn't dare express.
"Yes..." You could feel his intention rise. "Yes, that all sounds do-able."
You needed to let go. To feel the fissures of your orgasm that was building more clearly. He'd call it legendary, the way he'd made you let him play with you while on this seemingly important interaction. He'd talk about it again and again when he wanted to remind you that you were his.
You were about to speak when his mouth returned to you. Sucking on your tongue as if to rob you of all the words you were meant to say. You could hear your boss on the other end of the phone, waiting for your response, one that you simply couldn't make whilst letting Jake wrap his lips around you. All you could do was gently murmur until he had his fill.
"Anything you need." You said breathlessly, to your boss...to Jake. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a start on those files for you, ok?"
He slapped your pussy with the back of his hand as you came off the call. Causing you to squeal, a high pitched whine of delight.
"Oh, no..." He shook his head. "You think just because you hung up that you get to cum now, is that it?"
You would have begged. But it would have been futile.
"Stand up." He ordered, bringing you to your feet. "Palms on the desk."
The torturous beat of his ministrations continued. Thighs parted as you leaned against the array of work left undone. He fell to his knees again and licked endless stripes up from your pussy into the valley of your ass. Pressing his mouth into the moisture there. Making your begs come out in painful moans. Not in words, but in restrained little moans that did nothing to help your cause.
"You ready for my cock?" He asked, sliding a solitary fingertip down the path of where his tongue had been.
The way your head moved up and down, humming your need as the word yes spilled out... you felt the incomparable rage of your phone vibrating again.
.
.
.
@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire
226 notes · View notes
sacredjake · 8 months
Text
Heaven & Hell
Tumblr media
pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader
word count: 3.8k
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! basically p*rn, there is no plot. unprotected penetrative sex, cussing, impact play/spanking, edging, orgasm denial, sir kink, daddy kink, nicknames, hair pulling (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving), rough sex, cockwarming, squirting, dom!jake, eyeliner jake, sweaty jake, some fluff at the end. if i missed any pls let me know!
a/n: i intended to write this many moons ago and finally got around to it. this is inspired by end DIG jake and his smudged eyeliner. huge thank you to @gold-mines-melting for proof reading, coming up with the title, sending pic ideas and telling me to put in more sweaty jake and better descriptions of his beautiful tummy that we all love so much. love you so much, poppy, thank you<33333 also i wanna say that this is the first time @malany-gvf has not read one of my fics before it got posted so she will be going in blind hehe <3
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The show seemed to drag on for eternity, and you were grateful when the boys reappeared back on the stage for their encore. It's not that you weren’t enjoying the show. You were actually enjoying it a little too much. More specifically you were enjoying the way your hot rockstar of a boyfriend looked on the stage, his chest and neck glistening with sweat, his fingers moving furiously against the strings of his guitar, the way his hips were rocking into the instrument and his back arched, and the eyeliner that had smudged under his eyes. 
Oh the eyeliner. 
It was a shock to you just as much as it was to the fans that night when the curtain dropped. It was faint, just a little bit of black on his waterline, but my god was it driving you absolutely insane. And as the show went on, and the more Jake sweat, the more the eyeliner smudged making it almost unbearable. The throbbing between your legs wouldn't cease and only got worse, the thin material of your underwear sticking uncomfortably to your core with the arousal that pooled there.
When they started to play Highway Tune you decided it was time to make your way down to the floor so you could meet them as they walked back to their dressing rooms. You were able to catch the last half of the song after their jam session break, and you waited patiently for them to come off the stage. Just by the way Jake had been playing tonight you knew he would be looking for some relief, and that thought alone excited you. 
They had finally finished their set and were coming off the stage, Jake was first, nearly sprinting down the steps. Instead of handing his guitar to his stagehand Jake kept walking, one hand on the neck of the guitar to keep it from swinging about. His eyes were glued to your frame the moment he saw you standing there, the eyeliner extenuating his piercing stare. When he caught up to you, his right arm grabbed your left bicep, pulling you with him down the hall.
You didn’t say a word, knowing all too well what was going on. His guitar was covering the erection that had gotten increasingly worse throughout the night which is why he didn’t hand it off. His fingers dug into the meat of your arm, threatening to leave bruises, and it only turned you on more. The thought of him needing release so badly, and what he was about to do to you in the arena dressing room. 
Jake released your arm once at the door, his hand flying out to twist the knob. He guided you inside the room with a hand on your lower back, and quickly shut the door behind himself. You wandered over to the vanity in the dressing room, finding the eyeliner he used still laying on the counter. 
“The eyeliner was a nice touch, baby. Made all the fans go crazy.” You picked the pencil up and rolled it between your fingers. You watched through the vanity as Jake carefully removed his beloved guitar from his body and placed it on the spare stand by the couch. With the guitar out of the way, you could see just how badly he was straining against his pants.
He was quiet as he came up behind you, his left hand gripping your hip, the right brushing against your neck lightly to move your hair, exposing your neck. You watched his reflection come closer to you, his mouth right by the shell of your ear. His lips skimmed across your skin leaving fiery heat in their wake trailing from your ear down to the junction of your shoulder and neck where he began to place wet, hot kisses against your skin. 
“And what about you, sweetness? You seemed to be enjoying the show more than usual tonight. I bet those lacey panties of yours are just dripping.” The sensation of his breath fanning over your skin was making your head fuzzy, and your limbs weak. You barely registered the sound of the eyeliner pencil dropping onto the counter from your hand. 
You reached behind your head, tangling your fingers into his hair as your head rested against his shoulder, your back arching to push your ass further into his erection. With both his hands on your hips, Jake gave you what you asked for, rutting his hips into the swell of your ass. A whimper flew from your lips unable to contain just how needy you were for him.
“Jake please, don’t tease me. I need it, need you, bad.” Your voice was breathy and cracked when it came out, sounding like nothing more than a sigh. His hands traveled to the front of your denim shorts, popping the button and pulling the zipper down slowly. Jake slid the material down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. 
“Oh don’t worry,” He nipped at your neck before pulling away, “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” 
Jake pulled your hands away from him and placed them on top of the vanity, closer to the mirror. With the new placement of your hands he had you bent over the desk of the vanity, giving him the perfect view of your ass and your face. Not completely satisfied with your position, Jake swiftly nudged your feet wider apart with his own, spreading your legs for him. 
“She’s all wet and ready for me, isn’t she?” He drug his middle finger over your clothed slit slowly. The minor action alone made your heat clench and your clit throb. You needed more, and Jake obliged. His finger peeled your underwear away from your sopping cunt, dropping them to lay with your shorts. 
Once removed, his middle and ring fingers swept between your folds, stopping at your clit to rub tight, fast circles. His other hand was busy with the button and fly of his pants, doing his best to free his cock from its confines. You watched his dick slap against his tan and toned stomach that was still glistening with sweat as he pulled his boxers down. He grasped himself with his free hand and ran his tip through your folds, gathering your slick. Your high was building steadily the entire time, the coil in your core getting tighter and tighter. But in an instant it was gone. Jake’s ministrations on the hard bundle had stopped completely when he switched the hand holding his dick to pump himself a few times, covering him tip to base in your arousal.
You were ready to beg, and plead for him to do something, anything, when he slammed himself into you fully. The force with which he rocked into you caused your elbows to give out, your weight leaning solely on your forearms against the cold wood of the desk, and forcing your back to arch more. 
“Fuck Jake!” You gasped in pleasure at the way he stretched and filled you just right. It was borderline painful, but that's what made it so delectable. His hips hammered into you, punishing and unrelenting. Just the way you liked. 
You pressed your hand against the cool mirror to protect your head from being rammed into it, never taking your eyes off of Jake. Sweat trailed down his face and chest, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck. The scene was like one you had seen almost a hundred times, but not restricted solely to the bedroom. He looked as he did on stage not too long ago, brows furrowed and pinched together, mouth hung open slightly, hips thrusting and eyes glued to the source of his pleasure.
“That’s it, baby,” He nearly growled watching his cock piston in and out of you, “God you take me so fucking well. Like you’re made just for me, isn’t that right?” He tore his eyes from where the two of you connected and met yours through the reflection in the mirror. All of the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The sight of his dark, lustful eyes rimmed in the black eyeliner had depleted you of all thoughts and oxygen. You could only stare back at him and nod with your mouth open. 
Air quickly filled your lungs again with a sharp breath as his hand came down on your ass. The sound cracked loudly throughout the space, the motions of his hips never ceasing. You knew there was likely to be a full handprint, red and angry etched onto your skin. 
“I’ll try again in case you didn’t understand the question,” He planted his hand on the vanity next to your elbow, the sweat that spilled down his chest now began to seep into your shirt as he leaned into you. His other hand gripped your hip, using it to hold you firm. You didn’t dare look away from him, holding eye contact while he spoke next to your ear. 
“Who does this dripping cunt belong to?” He asked, his voice low and gruff. You couldn’t stop the groan that tumbled passed your lips even if you had tried. 
Jake was always sweet and gentle with you. He would constantly whisper ‘i love you’s into your hair with a kiss, bring you flowers any chance he had, open doors for you and hold you like you were the most fragile thing on the planet. You knew he would never hurt you intentionally and loved the way he worships you. 
Every now and then, though, you would get this side of Jake. He was demanding and rough and obscene. And you loved every single bit of it. This was exactly what you had been hoping for when you saw him on stage earlier in the night, and you were ready to feed into this side of him. 
“You, daddy, it’s all for you. Only for you.” You cooed watching for his reaction. His jaw clenched, and you could’ve sworn the chocolate of his irises turned solid black. 
In a split second he stood back up, both hands latched onto your waist. The speed on his hips never waivered, but his hands guided your hips to meet his with every thrust. 
“Don’t you dare take your eyes off me, do you understand?” 
“Yes, sir.” You nodded quickly. 
Your promise was quickly forgotten as his hips drilled into you faster and harder. The pace he set was absolutely grueling. With each thrust you were brought closer and closer to your end, you couldn’t hold your head up any longer. Your chin dropped down to your chest, your eyes squeezing shut. 
“What did I just fucking say?” Jake’s hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you upwards as he continued to fuck you mercilessly. When your back was fully flush against his chest, his hand moved upwards to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. With the new angle you were teetering on the edge of bliss.
Jake knew instantly. He knew your body better than anyone. Knew all the signs of your impending orgasm. 
“I’m gonna-“ You were swiftly cut off with a smack to your left outer thigh. 
“No you aren’t, you’re gonna be a good girl and you’re not going to cum until I say so.” Jake grit out through his clenched teeth next to your ear, hot breath cascading over your sticky skin. 
Using the hold on your jaw he roughly pushed you back towards the counter top of the vanity. Your left arm shot down, your right catching on the mirror to stabilize yourself. Every breath, moan, and whine escaping your mouth fell against the mirror making it fog slightly. 
“Jake please, please. I can’t- I need to- fuck, I need to cum, please.” You whine, giving him your best fucked-out-doe-eyes. 
Jake’s only response was a groan coming from deep within his chest. His hand that was previously on your jaw wound tightly in your hair, drawing your head back sharply. The new pleasure that coursed throughout your body was heavenly. You felt him everywhere, and it was sinful bliss. 
With the grip on your hair, he used the leverage to pull your body backwards to meet each unforgiving thrust of his hips. The only sounds that came from you now were choked back sobs as you did your best to keep your orgasm at bay. You did as you were told and kept your eyes on his reflection, his lust blown orbs staring back at you. 
“Oh fuck babygirl, just like that.” The words came out low and breathy, sending you headfirst into your long awaited climax. Through your squinted eyes you watched as Jake’s head snapped back, his mouth hung open. 
Before he reached his own climax, he pulled out of you quickly. His fingers circled your clit making sure to carry you through the rest of your high. When you finally came down, he turned you around pressing your ass to sit on the counter. Without warning Jake dropped to his knees in front of you and pulled your thighs around his shoulders, eyes boring into you the entire time. 
He dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, gathering your release and groaning deeply, his eyes rolling backwards. The sight alone was enough to bring you to the edge so quickly. The smudged eyeliner underneath his eyes made him look so soft, yet dangerous. Like he could flip on a dime at any moment and split you in half just as he was moments ago. 
With each pass of his tongue over your sensitive bundle the coil deep in your core burned hotter. Jake was steadily working you towards another orgasm with his velvet smooth tongue alone. Your nails raked against his scalp, pulling groans from him and sending the vibrations straight to your dripping heat. 
You could spend eternity like this. Jake’s head between your legs, worshiping you the way he loves most. He looked absolutely divine. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and neck. The ends of his hair clinging to the wet skin. The look in his eyes was probably the best part. He looked like he was in absolute heaven, enjoying the way his tongue glided against you, gathering every bit of your sweet nectar.
Just when you were about to fall off the edge, Jake pulled back with a wicked grin. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his tongue darting out to clean what he missed. You huffed a needy sigh in retaliation. 
“What’s the matter babygirl?” He rose to his feet and placed his hands on the vanity, caging your hips between them. His eyes darted around your face in faux concern before his mouth broke into a smirk. 
“Oh.” 
Such a simple word, but it was mocking and condescending, “Did you think I was going to let you cum?” The arrogant smirk never left his face as he reached up to tuck the hair from your face behind your ear. His hand slid down your neck softly, landing on the juncture of your throat and shoulder. 
“Only good girls get to cum more than once, baby. You haven’t been very good.” 
“I’ve been good.” You whined with a pout, squirming under his gaze. 
“But you haven’t. I told you not to cum until I said so and did you listen?” 
“No.” You dropped your chin to your chest, your focus landing on his necklaces dangling from his chest. His hand snaked up your neck to the base of your skull, his thumb pushing under your jaw and forcing you to look up at him. 
“No, you didn’t. Do you know what that means?” 
“I need to be punished.” You whispered innocently and sweet, looking at him doe-eyed. 
“That’s right, baby. Stand up.” 
You did as he asked and stood from your seated position with a little help from Jake. He led you to the couch where he rid himself of his pants and boxers fully before taking a seat. 
“You’re gonna ride me until I say you can cum. Is that clear?” 
He looked glorious sprawled out across the mundane couch. His arms were outstretched on the back, legs wide open and cock pressed against his soft, yet firm stomach. Everything about him in this simple state exuded confidence and authority.
The cushions of the couch were plush, your knees sinking into them softly as you moved closer to straddle him. With your mouth practically watering you nodded frantically. You received nothing but a ‘tsk’ from Jake and a firm hand connecting to your backside earning a hiss from your lips as you sucked in a quick breath. 
“I asked you a question.” He was stoic with an eyebrow cocked looking up at you, waiting for another slip up. 
“Yes sir.” 
“That’s my girl.” His hand soothed the sting it left behind and slid upwards to rest on your waist.  You lowered yourself down onto his lap with your hand wrapped around his length, guiding him through your slick walls. 
He wore the same authoritative expression as you lowered yourself all the way down. Cocksure and waiting. It was a sight that made you that much more aroused. Something about the way he emanated power while you were mechanically in control turned you on immensely. 
With both hands on his shoulders for support you lifted yourself up while rolling your hips forward before taking all of him in again. The speed you moved was steady, enjoying the feeling of his cock pushing and pulling against your clenching walls. Each motion of your hips wound the coil tighter and hotter, your second orgasm within reach. 
It was at this point that Jake grew impatient. His fingers dug roughly into the flesh at your waist and he took control of your hips, lifting you up quickly before slamming you back down on him fully. With each descent of your hips to his, you were met halfway as he began to thrust up into you. Moans, and gasps tumbled past your lips with an occasional curse word. 
Your body eventually gave up, letting Jake have all the power. The only thing holding you upright were your arms looped around his neck and his left arm cradling the entirety of your back, your head supported with the same hand. In this position he was all around you. There was nothing else, only Jake. 
You kept your eyes locked on his, your mouth hung open in ecstasy, his lips drawn up into something akin to a pinched sneer. 
“Is the pretty girl too fucked out to beg?” He mocked between thrusts. You couldn’t answer him, not a coherent thought forming. 
“That’s okay baby. She’s doing all the begging for you, gripping my cock so tight. I know she wants it.” Your eyes rolled back at the way he spoke about your pussy. He was going to be the death of you. 
“Go on then, let her have it. Cum for me, princess, give it to me.” Jake grit between clenched teeth, holding back his own climax just long enough to demand yours. For the second time he threw you over the edge into the vast pit of searing pleasure. The feeling was euphoric and relieving, the intense pressure that had been building finally released. 
Though your senses were dulled through the haze you could feel water coating your thighs, ass and belly, soaking portions of your shirt. 
“Oh fuck!” Jake groaned from below you the sound emanating from deep within his chest. He fucked into you faster somehow prolonging your orgasm and increasing the amount of liquid you felt splattering your skin. 
“That’s it babygirl, keep soaking my cock. Such a good girl squirting for daddy. Goddamn.” Praises flew past his clenched teeth as he reached his own high only to fall on deaf ears. You were far too gone to understand any of what he was saying. 
Violent muscle spasms rolled through your body while Jake did his best to support you through his release. He pulled your body into his with your chests pressed together and your cheek resting against his shoulder. The spasms faded into twitches before dissipating while you laid against him. You could feel every breath he took, his chest heaving up and down. 
“Goddamn you are perfect,” Jake whispered breathlessly and turned to place a kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair with his hand, “I love you so much, baby.” 
You peered up at him, not having the energy to move your head, and met his eyes. He was smiling softly at you and practically glowing. A smile etched its way onto your face, tired and completely fucked out. 
“I love you too.” 
The two of you stayed in that position for a little while longer until you were uncomfortable, your combined sweat beginning to dry. You sat up from his sticky chest and winced due to the soreness and him still being tucked inside you. Jake was about to help you off of him when you froze. 
The entire couch was practically soaked. The cushions on either side of you were wet and you were positive the one below you had to be drenched. Your shirt was also wet, the lower half of it clinging to your skin, and Jake’s groin and belly showed remnants of liquid that had sprayed across him.
“Oh my god…” 
“Made quite the mess baby, but it’s okay,” He pulled you closer with a hand to the nape of your neck, “It was insanely hot.” He flashed you a smirk and placed a quick kiss to your lips. 
He helped you ease off of him and stand, holding your hands while you regained your balance on wobbly legs. When he was sure you could stand on your own he followed suit. Your guess was in fact correct. The cushion that had been below you was almost completely covered. 
Jake followed your wide eyes staring at the couch. As if sensing your anxiety he pulled the cushion out of the couch, turning it 180° before flipping it over and placing it back on the couch. He did the same with the others before looking back to you. 
“Good as new.” He pulled you into his side and kissed your hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a thankful squeeze. 
“Thank you.” 
“Of course, baby. Now,” He squeezed you back before untangling himself from you to face you fully and hold both of your hands, “Let’s get you a new shirt and get back to the hotel so we can take a nice hot shower and clean you up. How does that sound?” 
“Like heaven.” You sighed dreamily feeling your body relax at just the mention of hot water cascading over your aching muscles. 
“Not quite,” Jake chuckled and shook his head, “You’re the only thing on this earth that’s like Heaven, baby.” 
“If I’m like Heaven, then what’re you?” 
He gave you a wicked grin and shot you a wink, holding his arms out as if presenting himself. 
“Welcome to Hell, angel.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
join my taglist!
taglist: @gold-mines-melting @indigofallingsky @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @sunandthemoontwinflames @ageofhearingloss @lipstickitty @hellowgoodbye @demolitionndann @brujamagik @worldsgayestbonenerd @wildbluesorbit @jjwasneverhere @stardustjake @sinarainbows @jordie-gvf-admin @malany-gvf @dannyandthekiszkas @popejosh4ever @gretasimp @sacredthefran
501 notes · View notes
wildbluesorbit · 5 months
Text
London || JTK
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
18+MDNI
Paring: asshole!Jakexreader(f)
A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE! I can’t even tell y’all how nervous I am; this is my first fic AND the first smut I’ve ever written. I’m a Third Eye Blind freak and just generally think this song is one of the sexiest songs in existence so naturally I knew I wanted to write this fic. Big big love and thank you’s for my editor @tommie-gvf. I loved writing this so much and didn’t think it could get any better until I saw everyone’s reactions.❤️‍🩹
I ask for your patience as I’m a beginner and am very open to criticism. Pretty please tell me what you think!
Summary || Jake has a lover that lives in London. He visits her every time he’s in town, but recently the simmering situationship has taken a toxic turn.
Content Warnings || swearing, alcohol consumption, party setting, toxic relationship, jealousy, over possession, verbal aggression, slight physical aggression, big angst, graphic sexual depictions
Kink Content || dom(m) and sub(f) shift, [semi] public sex, dirty talk; praise & [public] degradation, sadism, zelophilia, katoptronophilia, daddy kink, slight impact play, nipple play, dry humping, hand job, ejaculation(f), oral sex(f receiving), penetrational sex
Word Count || 8.3k+
*disclaimer - I have no idea how to write any European, reader’s origin is up for interpretation*
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You continue to refresh your phone screen in hopes that it will load a new message or maybe even reveal a glitch.
“You know,” your best friend, Claire, aspires to tempt you back to reality, “that guy hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since we got here, right?”
A hum in acknowledgment of her bait is the only thing your split attention will allow as you proceed in refreshing your messages. Even going as far to restart your phone.
“He's kind of cute,” you return another hum as she sings further, “like really cute.”
“Go on then, have a go,” you try to push her self-assigned matchmaking duties back on her.
You have no choice but to be shoved back into the rumbustious surroundings of the overpopulated flat party as your phone is suddenly ripped from your hands. Claire raises it above her head not even bothering to investigate what might be holding you hostage. She is well aware of your antics.
“Please don’t tell me you're texting him again,” she lifts the device higher as you futilely lunge for it.
“He said he was coming,” you begin to gather a defense, “but I haven’t gotten a response since I sent the address… maybe hold my phone a bit higher?”
Claire lets out a monstrous groan of frustration and rolls her eyes, “You really are helpless!”
“I know,” you repine and give her your best pleading puppy dog eyes and hold two starving hands out in front of you.
Begrudgingly she gives in, slamming your phone against your awaiting palms. As soon as your phone is back in your possession you return to refreshing your messages, all in vain of course.
Whenever Jake was in London he always visited you, sometimes even flying you out to whatever part of Europe his show was in or just because he wanted to see you. A trail of one night stands that became ritual.
The nights always started out modest, the two of you innocently traipsing about parties and bars accompanied by his brothers. You would all share drinks and stories for hours, belly laughing until you were ceased by sore ribs, as if you had all been friends for decades.
Nevertheless without fail, as the drinks poured further so did Jake’s appetite for you. He'd always shadow you with some kind of seemingly harmless touch; a hand on the small of your back progressed into squeezing your knee and then thigh, to tugging you into him by the waist when he was made uncomfortable or wanted to share a secret amongst chaotic surroundings.
One by one, his brothers would slowly fade out; Sam first, then Danny, and Josh was always the last to let the party die, taking it with him when he went. From that point, the evenings between you and Jake would morph into a primitive and sensual burn. Teasing and tearing at each other until the two of you eventually spent the rest of your night curled around the other. Once again, darting back to your guarded bubble of shy soft intimacy; neither of you willing to accept it was different from anything else anyone made you feel. Time spent together was something the both of you always rushed through days for, memories neatly placed in a treasure chest of beloved keepsakes when it was over.
But lately, it was different. Something brittle and bitter had blossomed. Jake had gotten only bigger and busier. Sometimes, he’d pule about missing you so naturally you’d beg to see him. He’d send beautiful trinkets and fine clothing from whatever part of the world he was in that next week to ineffectively make up for his absence no token would ever emulate.
Though you are elated for him, you are also acutely aware of your need to move on in order to outrun the pining tidal wave that threatens to swallow you whole. You’d tried before, but no man was Jake. And seeing you with other men only spelled him into a envious fit. A sight that tormented you both, the other too afraid to cry out as nothing was ever set in stone.
So instead you’d go to war over some irrelative thing and he’d ultimately swear on his beloved he didn’t give a shit about you and when or if he’d see you again; only to gift you some pretty peace offering in amends to offset the vigorous cycle once again.
Like a vinyl record against the needle, the two of you are going round and round the same circle; different songs, same sonic. You know if the pattern continues, you are slowly headed towards the dead wax. You hope tonight will mend the broken pieces between you as he vowed he’d come to spoil you a few weeks ago.
“You need to cut him off,” Claire has stated her stance on the situationship brazenly before, “all he does is treat you like shit. He entertains you from a distance and keeps you waiting until he wants to get his dick wet.”
Having been through this debate with her many times, you only frown and exhale, “It's not like that and you know it.”
She mirrors your disapproval, “Isn’t it?”
Just as you are forming your rebuttal your phone buzzes in your hands; confiscating your ability to exist anywhere other than your screen. It might as well have looked like you were going to dial 9-9-9 the way you dementedly scramble to open your phone.
JAKE:
Hey, angel. Sorry, I got stuck at this dive with my brothers and now they don’t want to leave. I think we’re just going to spend the rest of the night here. Maybe I’ll catch you next time?
You had not been enjoying your time at this party. You had been ignoring your best friend. You had been ignoring cute flirty strangers. You had been exuberantly anticipating Jake’s company tonight for months. All to be left on read, pathetically pining for hours now; all so you could be stood up by the man.
Your chest bursts with flames of mortified resentment, fueled by his impudence. Irate does not even scratch the surface of how your heart pounds. Your blood is scalding, skin scorching.
Jake made you feel stupid yet again.
Your face must give you away before you can even get out a word of impertinence as you look up from the insolent text to see Claire smugly sipping her drink.
A knowing smirk spreads viral across her face, “He's not coming, is he?”
The last thing you want to do is tell her bitch ass she is right in your state of red. Instead, you offer her a question you know will sate her pride without feeding on your wounds.
A vengeful grin takes hold of you “Cute stranger checking me out, you mentioned?”
You have never seen her look so pleased with herself as she nods in the direction of a man at the end of the bar whose gaze you hold.
There is no way you are going to let this night go to waste. Not after Jake made such a desperate-looking fool out of you.
You decide if he is going to ignore you it's going to be his loss, not yours. You are not going to let him waste your time and you are definitely not going to let him take your fun.
You throw your most alluring eyes and innocent smile at the stranger and wave him over. He returns the greeting and calls some indiscernible phrases out to the bartender before receiving three drinks and walking over to your table.
He is tall, dark, and handsome. The complete opposite of Jake. A promise of great distraction.
He sets the three drinks down at your table pushing two glasses of what he claims to be screwdrivers towards Claire and yourself. He then proceeds to introduce himself as Hunter through an almost seemingly painful giant smile.
You can’t help but compare it to your favorite pretty and childlike grin Jake always wore, a sight you ache for.
You cordially engage in small talk with him, asking and answering the procedural “Where are you from?”, “What do you do?”, and “What do you like to do?”; fitting in the occasional desirous glances and seemingly innocent yet lingering touches when appropriate.
He is definitely funny, but not witty and satirical like Jake’s humor; undeniably intelligent, but not in the philosophical and existential sense like Jake.
You mentally berate yourself for still thinking about a guy who is obviously not thinking about you when Hunter clutches your hand, ripping you from your dissociation.
He points towards the middle of the flat where you see multiple people frolicking about, “Do you want to dance?”
Why the hell not? You throw back the rest of your drink and smirk wide in response. This seems to oddly appease Hunter but you think nothing of it as you feel yourself being towed to the make-shift dance floor.
At first, the movements are modest, just an adventurous activity between acquaintances. But after a few songs, you feel the alcohol rid you of your inhibitions, most likely against your better judgment, but at this moment you can’t seem to wrap your fingers around any care if you tried.
You grind and tangle yourself up with this man you hardly know. He seems into it and you are blissfully swept away from your afflictions, a win-win. So what is the harm?
As soon as the thought has come and gone, you feel it; an overwhelming perilous sensation of being surveilled. You turn your attention over to where you had left Claire at your table to see her deeply engaged in conversation with Josh.
Fuck. Where there is a Josh there is most certainly a Jake.
You whirl towards the flat’s bar to lock eyes with the source of the sinister stare; an infuriated Jake leaning against the countertop, arms crossed. He holds your gaping stare with a blistering nostril-flared one of his own, licking over his salient bottom lip into that bewitching pout and clenching his jaw.
A small part of you threatens to collapse under guilt as if you have been caught doing something wrong. But you find the majority of you seethes under a new tantalizing flame, devouring any clemency present.
Almost drunk off of this new power dynamic, finally, you have the upper hand and Jake is the one squirming. Of course, you want Jake over this clown any day of the week but he had made you wait almost all night, he can definitely handle a few more minutes.
You spin, now facing towards Jake’s beaming acrimony from the bar, allowing him a full access view to you commandeering one of Hunter's hands connected to the small of your back and slowly guiding him down to your ass, the other to your waist. You press your backside against his pelvis and his hips follow, grinding in the motions of your own.
You stretch upward as high behind you as you can, sinking your fingers into Hunter’s thick black curls. Just to sell it, you showmanly lean your head back against Hunter’s shoulder and whisper sweet nothings in his ear when he leans down into you.
You glance up at your petulant victim to see Jake roll his eyes and throw his head back in a deriding chuckle before he slams down the rest of his pint. Jake is most certainly under your spell.
You tell yourself that each song with Hunter is the last dance until you’re unsure how many have passed. Any concept of time you own is completely suspended in the delicious way Jake looks when he is hungry to devour what he can’t have, and in this moment it happens to be you.
Abruptly, you feel yourself being swept towards the nearest wall and your face being tilted up towards Hunter’s as he cranes his mouth down to meet yours.
It is nice. Pleasurable for sure. He is definitely a good kisser, but again all you can bring yourself to think of is Jake’s perfectly pink pouty lips pressed against yours.
There is no point in tormenting Jake if you are just as miserable.
As you are about to break away from the stale kiss, Hunter’s weight that is pinning you up against the wall unexpectedly falters, sending you fumbling to the floor. You attempt to regain your balance but the room is slightly spinning, a likely side effect from the alcohol in your bloodstream. You might have questioned it having only had a drink or two if your focus wasn’t currently employed by figuring your way back to vertical.
A hand makes its way into your line of sight, offering to help you up. You swat away the aid, recognizing it as Jake’s. He huffs and shakes his head vexed. Jake brings himself closer to the whirling stack of bones that you are on the floor and tenaciously claps his rangy hands around your waist; making a show to assign his fingers in the exact arrangement where Hunter’s had just been. He devoutly springs you to your feet as if you'd rehearsed the move. As soon as you gain your footing you step back from Jake and dust yourself off, despite landing on a clean floor.
You inspect your crumbs of clues; the boys glaring at each other and at the brink of verbal warfare. You arrive at the conclusion that a fuming Jake had let all restraint dissipate as he shoved Hunter off of you in his impulsive fit.
“Why don’t you go find some other victim to slam into a wall,” Jake snarls, “she’s had enough for tonight.”
“She didn’t seem to have a problem when she was dancing all over me,” Hunter shoots back genuinely confused, “are you supposed to be her boyfriend or something?”
You race to interject, “He is not,” addressing Hunter but then throw your finger in Jake’s face, “and you have no right-”
Hunter takes one big territorial step to cleat himself between you and your oppressor. An exasperated Jake scowls at your fictitious defender and back to you, his features melting into a sickened sight as if to ask if you are really going to allow him to be vilified as the threat.
Of course protection from Jake is the last thing you will ever need. He could say whatever he’d like but Jake will never lay a harmful finger to you.
However, the hunt makes the game. You subtly shrug at Jake and let the mens’ egos carry out your dirty work.
Hunter sets his fist on Jake’s sternum in an attempt to get him to step back, “Mate, she doesn’t seem to be into it so why don’t you give us some space.”
This is the trigger that detonates the antagonized man just in front of your human shield.
“Oh trust me, mate,” he mimics Hunter in an explosion, the shrapnel riding your blood to your cheeks, “when I say I happen to know what the little slut is into and it is definitely not-” Jake is cut off by a panicky Josh now stepping in between the two before Jake can say anything he can’t take back.
Josh seems to instruct his detesting brother through glances. You always find it hard to properly digest a situation with the appropriate amount of severity when the twins begin conversing with mere facial expressions.
It only lasts for a second or two before Jake refixes his glare towards Hunter. Mirroring Jake, Josh returns to Hunter with an antsy smile and places a friendly hand on his barely-reachable shoulder, as if he is about to deliver bad news.
“Sorry about him,” he starts to mediate, motioning towards his fuming twin he shrugs and chuckles nervously, “tequila makes him aggressive.”
You almost giggle at Josh’s flamboyant rescue. He is a detail oriented man who is verbally quick on his feet. He usually paints pictures you can not poke holes in. So you know he must be distraught or drunk as you hadn't even seen Jake drink an ounce of liquor since he arrived.
However, Hunter doesn’t seem quite as amused as he slaps Josh's hand off and grunts, “Whatever, I don’t do crazy exes anyway.”
He insincerely waves you off and facetiously blows Jake a kiss in one last satirical jab before sauntering off, dematerializing amongst the crowd.
Jake now recoils from Josh’s touch and waits for him to vanish as well. However, Josh’s sight seeks you and bears a disapproving nod, warning you to behave in a glower. For a split second, you forget he is a twin as his protective demeanor is all that of a vigilant elder sibling.
Nevertheless, Josh makes his way back to where he had been so unnecessarily interrupted and dragged away from Claire.
Your attention gravitates to Jake in daggers. Before you can form any thoughts or strategy, venom goes flying past your lips, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”
Jake swivels his head around, slightly panicking at all the partygoers that had stopped party going to sightsee this freak show. He never likes to be the center of attention unless he has six strings and a fretboard under his fingers.
Nimbly, he leads you by the arm into the nearby bathroom and slams the door shut.
You throw your arms out in confusion, “Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
He fires back, “No, just my patience with you!”
The room is small enough now that his scent circulates and the offensive smell of beer and bourbon attacks your senses; which explains his uncharacteristic boldness.
“Shit, Jake, you smell like a fucking brewery,” you spit out.
He seems to grasp how sloppy he let himself get. Your words siphon a hint of sobriety as he takes a deep breath and now speaks to you with a much more repealed approach.
You can tell he is still upset but is focusing on his convictions for the moment, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean for you to fall like that.” He hesitates, “And I’m sorry- I have no idea why I called you slut- I didn’t mean-”
You are nearly swept away by the sweet breeze of your angelic Jake; the one that trips over his words when he gets excited and loves to take on whimsical personas of his own invention. Jake that is present and kind, even at the end of the night. But just like a fleeting breeze, you easily withstand his charms.
He may have found his composure but you certainly did not, not that you want to, “I’m fine, Jacob! Want to explain whatever the shit that was?!”
Any remorse present in his tone abandons him, “Oh please, you wanted that! I could see it all over your face while you were messing with that prick. I don’t even know why I'm surprised. You’re like a child who throws a fucking fit. The moment I don't do or tell you exactly what you want you go throw yourself into the arms of some random no-good fuck. I knew you were with him as soon as you went radio silent.”
You narrow your eyes at him. You’re almost suspicious of the blank canvas he’s left for you to fill in with logic; he’s usually ten points ahead when debating, never speaking a vulnerable statement for someone to collapse before him. You are almost hesitant to ask the question.
Your hand finds your hip as a means to reinforce your interrogation, “That’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t own me, Jake! So what if I was dancing with Hunter?”
He rolls his eyes and growls at the mention of his name. If Jake were an ounce more theatrical you swear he would have gagged too.
You cross your arms and lean into the balls of your feet as you sharpen your questions, knowing you have him trapped, “If you knew, why did you even show up then? Why do you even care? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything?”
He blurts out way too quickly to disguise any aloofness, “I don’t care!”
Jake immediately throws his head back in defeat and groans, crumbling under further rumination of your questions, as if they frustrate him as much as they do you, “I don’t know! You just- It kills me to see you- sometimes- you make me so-”
He is struggling to articulate his thoughts without making himself look like the blatant asshole, but you see right through it.
You, however, have no problem spitting the word out. In fact, it progresses the igneous tension between the two of you into a delicious sweltering burn.
You dangle the word right in front of him just to watch him squirm, “Jealous?”
The accusation furrows his brow and tightens his shoulders.
If you didn’t know any better, his sudden dark tone would have you red with shame for such an accusation, “You think I’m jealous? Trust me, kitten, you haven’t even seen jealousy. Go fuck that guy for all I care.”
You giggle and raise a slanderous eyebrow, soundlessly challenging his overtly bogus defense. Your defiance vacillates Jake back to his munition.
He charges towards you, his footsteps following the alignment of his pointer finger swinging in your direction, “What the fuck are you smiling at- You know what?! Fuck this and fuck you! You always do this. Always getting me into more trouble than I bargain for.”
Jake is growling in fragments now, growing taller with every step he takes drawing in towards you, surrendering to your gravity.
“This isn’t me! I’m not this person who gets jealous and fights with strangers at a party,” he gestures his clenched fists towards you, arms length away now, “And I don’t like being angry with you!”
Jake corners you between the wall and a stall, yet his rushing commute ceases to falter, “And what’s worse is I actually think you enjoy this! You must get off on this! I think you want to see me lose my mind!”
Jake is close enough that you are now confronted by the moles that cradle his right jaw, the charming silver starting to streak from his temples, the sculpt in the cartilage of his prominent nose, and the slight uneven curl of his upper lip. Details no camera could capture and no screaming fan could ever have knowledge of; intimate details one would ever amass without his admission.
If he moves any closer he would have to kiss you. He scolded you for getting worked up off his anger when he was doing the exact same thing. The worst part being you aren’t even sure if he has caught on to this rage-driven gravitation between the two of you. His face reads “Caution, stay away,” but his body is imploring you to take care of him. He is right where you want him, giving you all the power once again.
He resumes waving his finger at you and stiffly pokes your collarbone. He opens his mouth to make another point but his words never deliver themselves. You see his very thoughts dematerialize as he touches your buzzing skin.
He doesn’t even lift his finger from you, just lets it fall to the start of your breasts, making your chest heave. He subconsciously presses his body to yours; so close you catch his erratic breaths on your lips.
You hastily retort while he is distracted, “That’s pretty amusing considering you're the asshole that ruined my night, not the other way around, slut.”
He rakes the pad of his finger still connected to you, up your clavicle till it rests at the top of your outermost prominent neck muscle, delicately wrapping the rest of his digits around your throat once he runs out of room. He sinks further into your orbit so that he is now hovering just above your features.
“Look at you, just begging for someone to put you in your place,” he rasps out, ever so slightly applying a teasing pressure to reduce your air flow.
Collecting yourself enough to stream your words out in a lazy river, you dare taunt the feral man that holds your next breath between his fingers, “Look at you, Jacob, absolutely rabid with jealousy.”
“I’ve had it with your little attitude,” his hand delectably contorts further around your throat in a fit of conniption as he roars through clenched teeth, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t fucking drag me here to make me jealous.”
“Bite me, Jake,” you roll your eyes at his arrogance.
You expect him to snap at you, to reprimand you for your insubordination. However, to your surprise he laps one long stripe from the corner of your pout to the start of your cheekbone. The action expels your nerves into shock; a shudder slithers its way up your spine.
Jake sighs against the shell of your ear, “Is that why you’re being such a little fucking brat? You just want me to bite you, sweetheart? Is that it?”
Your only response is a whimper as a crackling heat awakes between your thighs and your hips grind into Jake on their own accord; giving him the only answer he needs.
Satiated by your feedback, Jake nearly moans at regaining the upper hand, “I swear- and why should I even care, kitten?”
You urgently squeal, struggling against your constricting airway, “Because it’s your fault! I’ve never craved attention until you did this to me!”
Cocking his head to the side to purport the appearance of a disapproving analysis, he mocks your need, “How did we end up like this, beautiful? We are absolutely no good for each other.”
You don’t bother devising a clever response, knowing he’s already decided to give you what you want.
He clenches his jaw and runs his tongue along the ridges of his teeth, twisting the pink muscle into the crevices of his molars, “It’s rude to stare, kitten. Do I need to teach you how to use that pretty smart mouth of yours?”
You only bat your eyes at him, your expressionless face waiting for what you know comes next.
He raises an eyebrow at you, impatient for some response and mutters, “Say something.”
A shit-eating grin sneaks its way onto your face, “Don’t forget to lock the door, babyboy.”
Jake’s once kind eyes grow dark to an absolutely immoral shade of lust. Heedlessly, his lips crash against yours, the sensation you’ve fantasized about since the last time his mouth deserted yours. He tastes of bourbon and peaches.
He slips his hands around your ass and hauls you up to straddle his waist. You wrap your legs around him as he staggers towards the door lock as you instructed, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you long enough to complete the task first.
Jake places you on the sink and protestingly pries himself back from you, as if starving for more but looking at you was a vital duty he must perform.
His eyes plot you up and down, infatuated with this strand of you, reserved only for him. You don’t have to say a word for Jake to know what happens when he’s away; the way you move for him confesses everything he is already aware of. He is the only one capable of having you completely and utterly vulnerable and unguarded and unadulterated; animalistically yourself.
For the first time tonight, Jake’s pretty pout draws back in a genuine smile for you; a giddy fool and his favorite fix.
He gracefully reaches to untie your wrap blouse and it falls to your sides, uncurtaining your heaving breasts. He hums in satisfaction of your physique.
Jake lightly places his hands on your knees and observes as his fingers featherly dance upon your thighs, only to stop and squeeze into the thick of them until he leaves white imprints. He curls into you, Jake’s perpetually exposed chest rubbing against your newly bare nipples, extracting a hiss from you.
Your core already weeps with need.
The hungry man burrows his face into your neck but stops right before his lips meet your skin, knowing you desperately need his mouth.
He teases you with a tickling whisper, “Fuck- I missed you. They don’t make girls like you in Nashville.”
The ribbing huff of his breath makes you shudder.
You press your hand against his hip, slide it down the curve of his thigh and inward till you map out his hard length through his pants, “I can see, you poor thing.”
Your movement draws a low growl from him in your ear, “Fuck- You see what you do to me, kitten? You see all the problems you cause me?”
You begin to palm him through his clothes and feign out a bratty whine, “Yes, but we always have such a good time, don’t we Jakey?”
Jake begins to eat at your neck while you continue to caress him until he moves down and out of your reach.
He plots out your clavicle, licking down your sternum through the valley of your peaking breasts; delaying his journey to lap one of your nipples into his warm salacious mouth as he gropes the other in his lanky hand. A few mumbled swears fall from you as Jake begins to venture in biting and sucking marks into the supple flesh of your breasts, soothing each spot with candied kisses afterwards.
“Shit- just when I thought these perfect tits couldn’t get any prettier. An absolutely breathtaking sight with my bitemarks,” he pants.
Jake’s mouth resumes its migration south to your goosebump ridden thighs. He sinks his fingers into the flesh of your ass, resting his elbows against the corners of the sink for balance as he lowers the rest of his body to accommodate the angle of your glistening center.
His mouth now takes purchase of where his fingertips had just deserted your thighs, kissing away the residual sting; closer and closer to your entrance till his head vanishes, canopied in between your skirt and legs. You feel the heat of his huffing through the lace of your panties. The sensation alone is enough to make you whine with need. Jake then bites into the material of your damp thong, sampling your arousal as he tugs your underwear to the side using his teeth. Jake plants his lips to yours in a row of delicate kisses, making you quiver with anticipation.
“Wider,” he growls out the demand.
You lean back to let your bare shoulder blades rest against the ice cold mirror behind you in order to grant him better access to your wetness. Jake is entranced as he gapes at how the chill glass spells you to hiss and clench around nothing.
He takes a deep inhale of you and slots the tip of his nose against your entrance. In one agonizingly slow movement he reclines his head so that his nose flits over your aching clit as he sticks out the flat of his tongue to follow the lewd trail.
You open your mouth to sing his praises but all that comes out is his name in a hiccuping squeak.
He then wraps his ample lips around your throbbing clit and nimbly sucks it into the warm plush of his mouth, swirling his velvety tongue around your bud.
The deed elicits a piteous wail to escape you and the confiscation of any remaining control over your restless limbs. Your hips involuntarily swing forward, seeking more of his mouth.
He rewards you with a swift smack against your thigh, “Easy,” he begins to plant light kisses on your entrance, “needy little thing today, aren’t you?”
Having not fully removed his mouth from you, the vibrations of his teasing words sends unexpected ripples of titillation humming through you, instigating your reeling squirms further, “Relax, kitten. I know how to take care of you. I know what you need.”
He finally unlatches his other hand from your ass. You hadn’t even registered the delicious sting of his fingers over the imperious pleasure of his mouth; a pain promising to blossom into pretty hues of purples, blues, and greens.
He delineates the curve of your thigh with his fingertips, finally fluttering over your entrance. Impatiently, he hikes your skirt up to bunch at your waist. He savagely yanks your lace underwear down and over your ankles, not even bothering to wait for you to adjust to help slip the material off. He looks to you with a seemingly innocent goofy grin as he pockets his newly pillaged treasure.
You roll your eyes and press your lips together to stifle your obvious giggle. In a feigned offense, Jake snatches your ankles in his grasp to reestablish his authority and your attention. Slowly, he lifts your legs to settle your thighs around his shoulders, careful not to throw off your balance on the porcelain counter.
You lock your ankles around him as his hands pet up your legs and wrap around your thighs to bore into your flesh. Jake reintroduces his mouth to your soaking entrance, sloppily devouring your nectar.
Though pleasing, you know he is holding out on you. Jake loves to hear you beg; for you to pray for what you know he can’t help but give you.
“Jake, more,” you demand despite knowing it will land void.
He immediately ceases his feed and arrogantly reminds you of your place, “Oh, I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders now, are you kitten?”
Mourning the loss of his mouth, you choke on a sob, “No, Jake!”
He tenderly begins to brush his digits along your skin, “That’s right, but I happen to know that pretty mouth sings a lot lovelier than she barks.”
He moves one of his thumbs to circle over your swollen clit as incentive, making his compulsion undeniable.
You desperately pant out your pleas, “Please- Shit- Please, Jake. I need- Jake- Fuck- fingers?”
“Sorry, baby, you’re not making any sense,” he terrorizes you now, stretching a free digit from your bud to tease your entrance.
You manage to piece together your needs enough to satisfy him, “Jake- please, I need your fingers- need them inside me- I need to soak them- please, baby?”
Your scandalous words draw a sweet moan from him. The vivacious grant of your request tells you he can’t stand to make you wait any longer.
He begins pumping his middle and ring finger inside you, making you mewl his name.
He once again envelopes your clit in his lips and begins to suck and lap you towards ecstasy. You feel the euphoric tension strain your abdomen as Jake curls his fingers around the spot he always seems to effortlessly discover.
“Fuck- Jake don’t stop- please- please don’t stop,” your voice reaches the high pitch only he brings it to.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, you sound too pretty with my fingers inside you to deny,” he coos against your sensitive clit.
Jake’s lustful praises send you into an orgasmic haze as your walls squeeze around his fingers and back arches away from the mirror.
As he feels you getting close, Jake begins to coach you, “Relax for me, beautiful. Can you relax that pretty pussy for me?”
You inventory only enough coherency to wantonly moan, indicating your process of his demand.
“Good girl, that's it. Just breathe and take it,” his praises coerce you into obedience.
Even though every endorphin in your body is imploring you to writhe at Jake’s touch, you do your best to relax and breathe as he ordered. You relent to Jake’s fingers, allowing him to caress into a new spot, a fresh wave of sensitivity finding you.
He knows he’s found the place as soon as you squeal his name in response. He begins to violently fuck deep into you with his hand, pumping in and out of you, his fingertips catching his new target every time, catapulting you into your orgasm. You're consumed by white heat as you soar through your ecstasy.
You’ve cleared through your orgasm yet oddly the tension in your abdomen is not alleviated but is now twice as constricting.
Jake never ceases to send his fingers in and out of you at a furious pace and the pressure that builds is of a different class, requiring your whole body to participate in your release. Where he was once babying his mark, he is now assaulting it; his digits curling into you with every pump. The sloppy sounds of Jake finger fucking you grows louder with every stroke.
His lips swallow your clit, slurping you into his mouth for safekeeping, sending you into overdrive as you approach this new release. Your pussy begins to convulse and contract around Jake but he drives into you faster still.
“That’s it, babygirl, cum for me. I’ve missed having you on my tongue,” his words barely make their way into your consciousness.
Your vision begins to black out as your eyes roll back and your slick sprays his face and coats his hands.
Yet, Jake refuses to cease his assault. Your climax builds within you so tight, it rips its way out of you. Your cunt expels a deluge of liquids and continues to pour into Jake’s hand with every dizzying clench of your cunt. Again. Again. And again. Until you are downpour, trickling past his wrist and onto the tile floor.
“Fucking shit- Jacob- don’t stop- I can’t- I’m still cumming- Ja- Baby- Jacob,” your voice melodically crashes and breaks against waves of rasping screams and swearing whimpers louder still, floating off somewhere in oblivion.
Jake thinks it's the most beautiful you’ve ever sounded. Your body finally gives, and you collapse back against the mirror behind the sink. After a few seconds you peek your eyes open to see the mess you made.
He pulls away from you to stand once again and observes his glistening hand in a gaping awe, unphased by your cum dripping down his chin.
“I love when you do that,” he mutters more to himself than you as he slurps your elixir from his own limb.
He isn’t even touching you but the pornagraphic sight reels a moan from you.
“Does my beautiful girl want a taste of her own orgasm?”
He places his fingers along your lips, waiting for your consent. You stick your tongue out and he slides his digits up along the textured muscle until you stifle a slight gag; the veins that decorate his knuckles pressing into your top lip.
He pulls your mouth closer to his with his fingers, slipping them out just before he slides his tongue between your lips; you further taste your glaze as he licks into your mouth.
He impatiently pulls away from you with a hungry groan and scatters to undo his belt. His pants fall to his ankles, his normally hidden curves now visible; a delectable sight you will never grow tired of. His physique is appetizingly curvier than most men and the very view made your dripping pussy flutter without remedy.
Jake catches your ravenous stare and arrogantly quips, “See something you like, kitten?”
Rather than respond, you greedily grab at him and slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You tug him closer along with the material and shimmy it down to liberate his hard painfully pink penis.
“I missed you too,” you run a finger over his leaking tip, causing his head to roll back in a hiss, “and this pretty cock.”
In one swift movement, you quickly gather your remaining arousal on his face in your free hand and reach down to slather his throbbing dick. You lay messy open mouth kisses along his jaw and neck as you now lightly pump him in your hand.
“Fuck- you’re so hot,” Jake rasps out at the loss of composure; his mouth slacks agape as you continue to jerk him off.
You move your hand to flick at his head and his features further melt in bliss.
“Slow down,” he whimpers, ”I want to be dripping down your thighs, not your hand,” his statement demands your submission.
You can tell Jake is unraveling fast as he starts twitching in your fingers. He is close until he obstinately pulls you away from him by the wrist.
You pout out an apology and he relocates your hands around his shoulders, and grabs your waist as he paints your cheek with open mouth kisses. His tongue works a long stripe behind your ear and sucks your lobe into his mouth.
He speaks through teeth clenched around your cartilage, “You always misbehave like such a brat, but underneath it all my girl is just a sweet thing, aren’t you?”
His intimate words alone render you to a din of pitiful mutters and swears.
You feel him begin to press his hard cock into the thick of your thigh, involuntarily pursuing relief, “You just need someone who knows what you are, hmm? Knows what you need?”
You praise and beg as your center is reintroduced to that familiar ache, “Jake, please. You know what I need.”
The sensation of Jake grinding himself against your leg dissolves all restraint. You try to buck your hips towards him in search of what you want most, but he doesn’t let you succeed. Jake arrests your waist to push you further back onto the sink.
He snickers at your cupidity, “What a greedy little slut. Just came a fucking mess and you already want more.”
You stroke his ego with hopes flattery will seduce him, “Yes- I’m a glutton for you, please, Jake?”
You scoot back up to the edge of the sink and grab at him; mad for his touch. Instead, your ambition is requited with a stinging smack to your cunt as he bellows the command, “Sit still! I’m not going to tell you again.”
You can’t help the fearless groan that echoes throughout the small room.
He bitterly miffs, “Yea? Should have thought about that before you were fucking around with that shit for brains?”
“Jake, I’m sorry,” you gravel, growing more impatient by the second that you can’t feel him.
Your insincere words purchase you no spoils as he taunts you further, “Good- You have no idea. I wanted to break his fucking nose wide open! What was his name again, sweet thing?”
Before you can fashion any remark, he yanks you to teeter on the end of the countertop once again. Jake, shaft in hand, drives his throbbing tip just past your lips, and flicks himself against your sensitive clit.
Your knuckles grip white against the corners of the porcelain struggling to remain in place as you whimper gibberish, “Fuck- Jake- I- MMM- fuck-”
“Look at my good sweet girl, so cock drunk she can’t even remember the pawn she was using to make me jealous a few minutes ago,” he smugly croons.
He featherly runs his fingers through the tresses of your hair. As he smooths down your mane you cave into his touch.
“I fucking hated seeing you with him,” his words drip with scorn, “It killed me. You deserve better because you’re my good girl.”
Lining himself up to press into your labia, he docks his forehead against your clavicle to look down at his toying with you. Slightly arching forward, his pink head only just glides past your entrance.
You are teetering over the line of ditzy, Jake’s tantalizing quips being the only tether before you are too far gone, “What a filthy slut? Playing dirty to get Daddy’s attention?”
Any remaining composure flees from you as the name is growled against your skin and you immediately call it back to him, “Shit- I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, fuck me?!”
One hand still residing in your hair, he tugs by the root to guide your ear to his open mouth, “Well you’ve got my attention now, my sweet little fucked out thing.”
Without warning, Jake mercilessly thrusts himself inside you to the hilt. You slap your hand over your mouth to silence the obscene wails tearing through you.
Jake promptly rips your hand away, “Don’t you fucking dare. I want everyone to hear my little cock drunk slut sing.”
Without granting you an opportunity to adjust to his girth, he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to plunge himself all the way back in, driving into that magical spot.
Just as that illustrious need grows in your stomach, Jake pulls out completely. You don’t have the opportunity to protest before he gathers you from off the countertop and twists you around towards your reflection. He gingerly presses his touch into the protruding shape of your shoulder blade, lightly ushering you to lean over the slab of the counter. You surrender to Jake’s decree, not willing to risk your orgasm.
Jake finds your fucked out gaze through the mirror and faintly adjures, “I want you to watch as I fuck you.”
You know better than to mistake his lowly tone for submission. You lean your weight on your elbows as you settle against the sink and raise your head to take in every detail as Jake begins fuck into you from behind.
His pace starts off moderate, but every stroke pierces deep. Your eyes are spellbound by the vision of his pelvic bone slamming into your ass with every harsh swing of his hips.
You do your best to keep your eyes visible as his rhythm picks up, but inevitably your head hangs limp, dizzy from your approaching high. You resign from your efforts once he begins to rock into you faster, burying himself further in your cunt.
You are compensated by a half-lidded Jake forcing your head back up by your chin, “Nah-uh. Look at me, baby.”
You manage to anchor your head where Jake repositioned it, but you are helpless to the way your eyes roll back as he swivels his hips rutting into that sweet spot. Jake grants you exoneration as your walls tighten around his twitching cock, indicating you are close.
Your every muscle trembles as you are abraded by your final orgasm. You're too far gone in your trance. You babble a gibbered language of swears and crying moans as you give into the chemical release.
“Just one more for me, babygirl, you can take it,” he hushes you.
You are strung back from your trip by the stutter of Jake’s hips and hiccuping moans. He is close. You see him tire as he curls around you, his panting grunts tickling your skin.
“Come on, baby,” you root for him despite your own overstimulation, “fuck me full. Want it so bad.”
You are captivated by the reflection of his features contorting under bliss as he fights to keep his hips in motion. You roll your hips to follow Jake’s strokes as his high suspends his stamina.
His eyes roll back as he begins to convulse, his dick jerking inside you. He releases, his lewd moan of absolute venery graces your ears as he empties himself inside you, coating your pulsing walls.
Jake goes limp, briefly taking refuge against your backside as he catches his breath and you come down from your highs together. He lazily litters your skin with kisses wherever his lips can reach.
He sighs against your spine, “Fuck- you’re magnificent. Absolutely electric.”
He wills himself to stand vertical, tugging his pants back in place over his hips before he eases you upright. Assisting you with his steady grip on your pelvis, the steamy skin of his lithe chest sticks to your backside. He wraps an arm around your waist to hold you steady as your knees buckle upon landing, pulling you into him once more. He bows his head to warrant his lips to lathe your neck, savoring the salt of your skin.
Far too consumed to break away from his sloppy kisses, he tilts his head as his eyes hunt for the reflection of yours, “But I meant what I said earlier, we’re no good for each other.”
He nibbles his way up and sucks at the muscle of your jaw, “I like you way more than I planned to but there’s no way we can continue like this, babygirl.”
You go numb; the only sensation present being pins and needles pricking your chest. His words spell you dumb, abolishing any sense to speak or move.
He delicately spins you to face him once again and tenderly kisses the tip of your nose.
Jakes slightly pulls back to skillfully tie your blouse back up for you, “Whatever this is, it's got to settle here.”
“Jake- you-,” you breathlessly chase for the tail of your thought that doesn’t seem to exist.
He squeezes your hands in his, “I mean it, kitten, don’t call me anymore. I won’t pick up for you.”
The tender manner in which his lips love on you does not mesh with his condemning words.
He draws back to see tears you aren’t aware are now rolling down your flushed cheeks.
He lets go of one of your hands to cup your jaw and kisses the salty sadness from your features, “Don’t cry, baby, you’re perfect.”
He envelopes your lips between his one last time before he brings your hand still in his grasp to place his pucker against your knuckles and whisper, “Please take care of yourself for me, babygirl.”
You are prisoner to paralyzation as those enticing amber eyes abandon you; rendering you to nothing but shattered forsaken ruins strewn across an empty bathroom, grasping and grappling to purchase any sort of rationale beyond the carnage.
You’re forced to silently choke on consternation at the sight of his chestnut waves bouncing against his shoulders as Jake weightlessly vanishes through the swinging door.
pretty please let me know what you think🫶🏼
taglist - @alwaysonthemend @becinabubblegvf @carbondancingthroughtime @edgingthedarkness @fleet-of-fiction @gretasfallingsky @gretasmokerising @gvf23 @heckingfrick @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @livkiszka @sacredjake @sparrowofthedawnsworld @takenbythemadness @thewritingbeforesunrise @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06
let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list and know y’all have already made this so rewarding❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
362 notes · View notes
gretavansmooch · 1 month
Text
Lace and Literature ~ Jake Kiszka x Reader
Tumblr media
Jake Kiszka x reader
18+ Minors DNI!!!!!!
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, a little fluff, choking, some degradation, light bondage, mentions of anal, anal play if you squint, gagging, spit play, hysterical literature, spanking. Please let me know if I missed anything <3
A/n: This is a collaboration between me and my bestie @dannys-dream we hope you like it! :)
Word Count: 1.9K
The lack of downtime on tour was nothing new. Rarely though, is there a quiet moment so when you stumble upon an empty room at the venue with an L-shaped plush looking couch, you immediately rummage through your bag for your book that you brought with you on tour. Settling in the corner of the couch, you crack the spine on your new book. You can barely make a dent before you hear Jake’s soft rap on the door. 
“Why am I not surprised that you’ve hidden yourself away with that little book of yours?” He chuckled before striding over to you, settling in front of your legs, leaning his right arm on the couch's cushion. He places a soft kiss on your thigh. “Let’s strike a deal, love. I won’t make you go out and socialize if you’re a good girl and stay quiet for me. We wouldn’t want anyone else hearing how pretty you sound, now would we? We wouldn’t want anyone to know that behind closed doors my good little girl is nothing but a whiny little whore hmm?” He spoke quietly in your ear while lightly stroking your cheek. 
“No sir, I’ll be quiet. I wanna be a good girl for you.” You can feel your body shake as you take a deep breath in anticipation, still unsure of Jake’s plans for you. Always keeping you on edge, you never know what to expect. 
Seemingly pleased with your response he rewards you with the tiniest of smiles before you see his eyes grow darker. Grabbing your throat firmly he slowly maneuvers the rest of his body to fit in between your parted knees. 
“Here’s how this is gonna go,” he growls in your ear before letting go of your throat and grips the fabric of your leggings on the inside of your thighs. “I am going to take my sweet time playing with my favorite little pussy and you are going to read me a little story,” he had barely finished his sentence before he ripped your leggings into shreds. “And if you stop reading or make any type of noise that even resembles a moan I will leave you here all warm and wet between your pretty thighs.”
You can’t help but let out a whimper. Jake grips your hips hard, definitely leaving bruises for tomorrow. “That, Angel, is the type of noise I’m talking about. Strike one.” His fingers trail down, almost touching exactly where you want him, but not quite. “Read me my story baby, and you’d better be on your best behavior.”
As you start to read in a less than confident tone you try not to feel too much as Jake trails his fingers up and down your inner thighs before you feel him slowly lay down fully between your legs. “Look at that pretty little cunt y/n. So pretty for me.” He places a soft kiss on your mound, just above the place you desperately needed him. You continue reading, breathy moans slipping out in between words. Mid sentence, Jake slips his finger under your panties and softly pulls them to the side. He places another kiss, this time directly to your clit. Somehow, you manage to stay mostly composed and keep reading, a small moan escapes as you finish the chapter you started. 
A harsh slap against your thigh brings you back to the present. “Now, did I not ask you very nicely to read me a story angel?” Jake growls into your dripping pussy. 
“Yes sir, you did. I’m sorry” you moan out. Another smack of his hand lands on the same spot, the pain mixed with the pleasure being almost too much to handle. 
As you struggle to focus on reading, Jake sucks your clit harshly into his mouth, taking you by surprise. A moan far too loud escapes you and at the same second you hear loud footsteps coming down the hall. Jake rips the book from your shaking hands and gives you a less than pleased look. “Looks like we’re gonna have to fix that little noise problem of yours princess.” 
Jake stands up from the couch and while holding eye contact he starts to strip the lower half of his body until it is completely bare and you can see his heavy cock bobbing up and down as he moves. 
“Hands,” he spat harshly. Eagerly you hold your hands out to him, afraid to rile him up further. He pulls his belt from the jeans he discarded to the floor and pulls it until the belt is tight and slightly uncomfortable around your wrists, but you didn’t care. He knows as well as you do that right now you are nothing but his little toy and your purpose is to sit pretty and shut up until told otherwise. “Remember your safe word pretty girl? And how to tell me to stop if you can’t use your words?” He tugs on the belt, ensuring you could get loose. “Y-yes sir,” you manage to squeak out. “ My safe word is Amp, and I do three snaps if I can’t talk.”
You watch him bend down to grab his black boxers. “Now, here is how this is gonna go, Angel,” He says as he crawls over to you, never breaking the intense eye contact. “I am going to stuff your pretty mouth with my boxers so that you cannot and will not be able to make a sound,” he says, and before you can answer he is tapping your chin lightly, asking you to open up. But you know that it is not a request. 
You swallow your spit and let your jaw fall open. Gently, he takes his boxers and presses them into your mouth. He watches as you grind your teeth, trying to move the gag to a more comfortable place. “Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you? Nothing but a hole for me to fuck, isn’t that right sweetheart?” You nod enthusiastically, knowing you can’t speak. You’ve always loved Jake’s darker side, loved when he fucks you so hard you melt into whatever surface you happen to be defileing. 
He pushes you down, fully laying on the couch. “Arms above your head, and do NOT make me repeat myself.” You do as you’re told, and grip onto the armrest of the couch. 
Giving you hardly any time to prepare yourself you feel him slide into you with little to no effort seeing as you’ve completely soaked not only yourself, but the couch and him. Once he has stuffed you full it becomes abundantly clear that he would not be going easy on you. 
You couldn't stay quiet even if you tried, and as he drove into you so hard you saw stars, your jaw slacked and muffled noises rang out. Jake roughly grabbed your throat, pulling you up to his face almost folding you in half, still fucking you. ‘’Little baby can't shut up while a cock is inside her needy little cunt huh?’’ he growled out. ‘’Just yours,’’ you gasped out around the fabric in your mouth. Jake faltered for only a second before he got back to his ruthless pace. ‘’That’s right Angel. Only my cock,’’ he said in a gravelly voice. 
Letting go of your throat, he let you fall back down onto the plush couch before leaning over you and slapping your cheek. And as your eyes widened in surprise and arousal he yanked his boxers out of your mouth. ‘’Alright Angel, be as loud as you want. Let them all know who is fucking you like this,’’ he said as his hand came down on the side of your thigh making the sound echo in the room. A moan immediately spills out of your mouth loud enough for anyone in the hall to have heard. Jake smiled down at you and drove into you harder and somehow deeper, reaching that spot that only he had ever been able to reach. You bring your still bound wrists over his head and use them to bring his face closer and pull him into a deep kiss. As always he kissed you back for a while before pulling back. Though his movements had become more gentle you knew it wouldn't last. 
Jake pulled out of you completely before roughly grabbing you and flipping you over so that your face was pressed against the back of the couch. Thinking he was going to slide back into you you wiggled your ass at him while giggling, but as your giggle rang out it was quickly replaced with a gasp and a long high pitched moan. Jake was grabbing both of your cheeks and spreading you wide open as he ran his tongue from your clit all the way up to the dimples on your back. Draping his body over yours he sucks your earlobe into his mouth before biting it. ‘’One day Angel, I'm going to pump that pretty ass full of my cum and watch it drip back out of you.’’ he whispered into your ear before pulling back and grabbing your hair making you look up at him. ‘’Open,’’ he demanded. You shoot him an innocent look keeping your mouth sealed shut. 
Jake raised one of his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly to the side before you visibly saw his eyes grow darker again. In a split second he gripped your hair tighter forcing you closer to him as he drove himself back into you so harshly that your eyes rolled all the way back and your mouth hung open. ‘’Look at me, I’m fucking you so nicely. You ought to remember your manners, little girl,’’ he said, grabbing ahold of your throat. ‘’S-sorry S-ir,’’ you stammered out and when your eyes locked with his he pulled your hair again. Breathless, loud moans were flowing out of you. As your intense eye contact fueled his rough thrust, he briefly looked away and spit right into your mouth. You turn your face and pull him into a kiss, pushing the mix of your spit into his mouth. A loud moan passes his lips, and just as Jake starts picking up the speed of his thrusts there’s a pounding knock at the door. 
“Jacob Thomas Kiszka, quit fucking y/n and get your ass out here and get ready for the show. We’re on stage in an hour!” Josh’s shrill voice carries down the hall. 
Jake, obviously pissed off at the interruption, thrusts into you hard. You feel his hot breath in your ear as he lets out a growl. “We are so far from finished angel, but it looks like I have to go do my job. You’ll stay here and clean up our mess. And don’t even think about fucking touching yourself. We will pick this back up at the hotel.’’
Gently he pulls out of you and with a frustrated sigh he grabs his own clothes and starts to get dressed. ‘’I will be back in a minute with some new clothes for you my love,’’ he says as he leans down to kiss your forehead. And as he leaves you sink back into the couch with a sigh. 
This is going to be a long night. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The end <3 .... or is it????
186 notes · View notes
blacksmokebarbarians · 9 months
Text
MY HEART
Tumblr media Tumblr media
702 notes · View notes
builtbybrokenbells · 5 months
Text
CAPITAL VICES | LUST
Tumblr media
Lust: a strong passion or longing, especially for sexual desires.
Masterlist
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 15.5k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!recieving) oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, dom/sub, bratty sub, dirty talk, name calling, hint of degradation, praise, sir kink, choking, impact play, touch of cum play, hookups/fwb, drinking, mentions of drugs/drug use/addiction, swearing, a painful amount of flirting (player Jake is my weakness btw), sorry if I miss any!
here we go again. i know i said i might not be posting much but i finished this up and I couldn’t help myself. my apartment is about half packed so this was a little reward for myself lol 🥰 im thrilled about this series, and I really hope you guys are too. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!
The room was packed with bodies desperate for a thrill, but most were in active search with little knowledge of how they would attain it. Some were drowning their sorrows in tequila shots while others danced away their memories, clinging on to a companion who would only temporarily solve their troubles for the night. You couldn’t blame them for giving it their best shot; even you knew that pain was more digestible when there was someone to accompany you through it. In the morning when they woke, it would return with a fervent appetite. It would snowball, feeding viciously off the shame brewing from a one night stand that could not even give them an orgasm. For the time being, they seemed content with their watered down drinks and 80’s hits playing through the system with a stranger wrapped around them. They tried not to think of the future, but it was still weighing heavily in the back of their minds. You knew they would regret it, and so did they, but they were unwilling to own the truth.
Others found their thrills in more nefarious ways, like the couple who was engaging in all but penetrative sex in the booth in the back corner. They thought the crowd would cover their show of desperation for each other, conceal them from curious eyes, but they were stealing spotlight even in the near pitch black room. Some were doing lines in the bathroom, hoping that life would get a little more interesting with the next hit all while promising themselves sobriety when the night came to an end. Despite their beliefs that they would stop their ‘recreational’ doses when the sun rose in the sky, everyone (including themselves) knew the reality of the situation; they were decomposing at the hands of substance abuse. They weren’t willing to admit to their own addiction, but most would succumb to the sickness and end up washed up in rehab after their spouses or parents reached the point of no return.
Violence even seemed to spark interest in a young pair of boys just outside, throwing fists in hopes of asserting dominance, yet only making fools of themselves in front of their dates. It was an embarrassing show of missed punches and drunken rage, but somehow it tickled them just right. They would go home pleased with themselves, proud that they ‘stood their ground’ (what they were defending, you weren’t certain of) and their dates would complain to their friends about it. After a week of missed calls and messages, the young boys would begin to understand that their temper tantrums were not good foreplay and would vow to learn their lesson. Until the next night of drinking draft and watching football on a bar television, of course.
No matter which way, every person in the bar was in search of something more, something to give them a spark of life back and a memory to tell later on down the line. None of them could admit that their entertainment for the night would do neither of those things. Instead, they would have a nasty hangover and a looming sense of dread hanging over them for the foreseeable future. That’s the thing about materialistic thinking; it always leaves you unfulfilled and in search of more. The people that came to the bar miserable would ultimately leave the same way, yet they would never admit that their ways were no longer working for them. Maybe in their teens or early twenties real memories could be made over cheap tequila and hookups, and if not memories, lessons for certain. After twenty five, it just seemed a little sad to continue down the same path of destruction in hopes for anything meaningful.
You were not at the bar for a thrill. You were there for one reason; to pass the time, and to get a good buzz. Dancing was never your forte, nor was it your passion to do drugs off the back of a dirty bar toilet. Company was low on your list of priorities and always had been. You learned many years ago that you would never find a suitable life partner at a dive bar just off of Main Street in a big city. Establishments like such only ever seemed to attract college attendees and middle aged men who hated spending time with their wives. Even when a promising suspect would turn up, eventually they would show the side of them that made it impossible to keep a girlfriend. Getting to know people was a drag, and the thought of making room in your apartment for a second person was more sickening than anything else. You liked your personal space, and you liked peace. When adding a new person to your life, you were risking it all, and risk something that never peaked your interest.
Whiskey was something that caught your attention though, and when it was cheap, it only made you more inclined to indulge. You had learned long ago that this particular dive bar had the cheapest stock around, and they didn’t skip out on quality, either. They seemed to save their money by neglecting building maintenance, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. You could get drunk in a five star hotel for triple the price, and you’d still be drunk. You tried not to think about the soles of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor or the outdated interior design, and the drink in your hand aided the process sufficiently.
“Another?” The bartender asked as he nodded towards your empty glass.
“You know me too well, Ray.” You chuckled, sliding him the empty glass. He grabbed it, barely leaving your side before another was sat in front of you.
“What can I say? You’re my favourite regular.” He smiled. Both of you knew this was the truth; you appeared every weekend, sitting in the same spot and drinking the same thing, and you never made a peep aside from the small talk initiated by the workers. You were a certain tip, and if he had the luxury of being blunt, the prettiest face to look at in the crowd.
“You’re just saying that because I tip well.” You grinned, sipping away at the beverage he’d made for you.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“No,” you shook your head “just pointing out the obvious.” He chuckled, throwing a towel over his shoulder before moving on to the next customer. You knew when the night dwindled down, he’d be back over to chat with you. Some would have shame in admitting that their closest friend was a 60 year old bartender, especially as a young woman, but you didn’t care. With him, you were never required to entertain any meaningful conversation or profess your darkest secrets. It was simple, lighthearted, and it served you well. You had no obligation to continue the friendship outside of the bar, and you got to see pictures of his grandkids. It was a win-win for everyone.
You barely looked up from your phone when the seat beside you was taken by another. You thought it odd for him to feel inclined toward that specific seat considering the bar was full of vacant space, but you didn’t think too hard about it. Drunk people didn’t care much about social cues, and you didn’t care enough to argue with them. What you did care for was the overwhelmingly strong scent of the patrons cologne, which seemed to be choking you the longer you breathed it in. It was not unpleasant; far from it, really, but it was very apparent. You weren’t sure if he doused himself in it before making an appearance at the bar, or if it was just so strong because of his close proximity. You buried yourself in your drink instead of investigating any further, knowing that someone who smelled so heavenly would only be looking for trouble.
“Any recommendations?” The voice struck you like a bolt of lightning, strong and without any warning. At first, you had doubts that the words were pointed in your direction, but when you felt a pair of eyes staring holes into your skull, you knew you were mistaken. You looked over at him, curious about the nature of his question. Surely any man who stepped foot into a bar already had an idea of what he wanted to drink. You doubted that the conversation starter was about alcohol, and was most likely a way to initiate a round of unbearable flirting.
“Depends.” You breathed, finding yourself completely distracted by the beauty of his face. His long brown hair was framing his face, and his smile was breathtaking. “What kind of night are you trying to have?”
“I’m open to suggestions.” He said, eyes lingering over the features of your face. He seemed just as enthralled in you as you were with him, and neither of you seemed keen on hiding it.
“Well, if you’re looking to dance, try the house tequila.” You started, flickering your eyes towards the wall of liquor bottles. “Seems like the draft here makes a person want to get in a fight, and the gin will leave you crying in the bathroom. Speaking of the bathroom, if you’re looking for some non-liquid solutions to your problems, there’s plenty in there, but I don’t know how much they’re willing to share.” He let out a laugh at your joke, but you were unsure if it was due to his shared sense of humour or because he wanted to get in your pants. Either way, it was a nice stroke to the ego. Even if it was due to a desire for sex, it was nice to feel appreciated, especially by someone so captivating.
“A lady that knows her liquor,” he noted, giving a slow nod. “I can appreciate that.”
“You asked, I answered.” You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “So what is it, then? Dancing, fighting, or crying?”
“None of them.” He assured you. “What if I’m looking to impress someone? Any suggestions for that?” You pretended to ponder the question before giving him an answer.
“I guess that would depend on who you’re trying to impress?” You raised an eyebrow, appearing more inquisitive than you truly were. He was handsome, and that was no secret, but it was not what you were looking for.
“You have lots of questions.”
“I can say the same about you.” You took a sip of your drink, your mouth watering at the potency of the liquid. Or, maybe it was because of the heavy-lidded gaze he was casting your way.
“If I was trying to impress a very attractive woman who’s looking at me like I’m an idiot, what do you think I should order to change her mind?” He asked, his eyes never leaving your face. You let out a small sigh, giving a shrug of your shoulders as you took another drink. Instead of replying, you turned back to face the bar, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. When the bartender came to take his order, he was still waiting for a reply. “I’ll take two of whatever she’s having.” The unnamed man said, hoping to grab your attention again.
“So, I’m the very attractive woman?” You asked, refusing to turn back to look at him. When the drinks were placed in front of him and he slid one your way, your question was given an indefinite answer. “What if you can’t change my mind?” You posed the idea to make him sweat, but his rebuttal was effortless.
“I have the rest of the night to keep trying, then.” Another smile twisted onto your lips, finding his charm irrefutable. Even if you weren’t interested in anything further than a simple conversation, you had to admit the effort was admirable.
“I wasn’t looking at you like you’re an idiot, by the way.” You said, swishing the ice around your glass. “Maybe I thought you were a little dumb, but not an idiot.”
“That’s a relief.” He said, a smile tugging on his lips, too. His response to your humour was definitely intriguing, and you were quite interested in his relaxed expression. “What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Y/n,” you said, finally accepting the glass he’d pushed in your direction after draining your own. He watched you, finding your lack of reciprocal attention peculiar, yet it only seemed to spark his interest even more.
“Are you going to ask for mine?”
“Mmm,” you hummed, debating his words before giving a shake of your head. “No.”
“Playing hard to get?” He joked, sipping away at his own whiskey.
“Just don’t care.” You shrugged. It was the truth; you weren’t doing so in attempt to play hard to get, but because you did not want to be caught at all. You had no interest in playing the game of cat and mouse, because you did not intend to leave the bar with anybody. You had a date with your bed and hopes of a good nights rest. You could not do that if you were busy wrapped around another. As attractive as he was, you weren’t willing to double back on your promises to yourself. Instead, you decided that it was best to stop any further attempts to change your mind.
“Ouch.” He chuckled, waiting to see if you were joking or not. You kept your head straight, wondering if you should leave before he continued on his tyrant. Then again, he was in your bar and this was your seat, so if anyone was leaving, it was not going to be you.
Your stubbornness was your biggest weakness, but you were too stuck in your own way to see the issue. As if the gods planned such a gruesome match from the very beginning, the only rival to your own obstinacy was the one living inside the man sat beside you. You were not willing to give in, and he was not willing to give up.
“Are you from here?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that if you kept your answers short he might take the hint.
“I just moved here, thought I’d check out the town, maybe meet some new people.” You gave a slow nod, eyes now focused on the football game playing on the television above the bar. You hated football, but you hated entertaining men even more. You’d rather watch a bunch of grown men fight over a ball than engage in any kind of small talk. “Not a talker, I see.”
“Usually that means you should move on and try again with someone else.” You said, picking away at the basket of French fries sat in front of you. If there was one thing the bar did that was just as good as cheap liquor, it was deep fried foods.
“Maybe I don’t want to.” He suggested. “Nobody else in here is worth the time.”
“And I am?” You chuckled, watching the team with red jerseys score a point. “You don’t even know me. I might be a serial killer, or even worse, celibate.”
“I’d like to know you.” He offered. “What makes you think that I’m looking for sex?” You looked over your shoulder at him, taking in his attire. You looked closely at the chains dangling around his neck, drawing attention to his shirt that was buttoned only up to his stomach. His dress pants looked name brand, and his eyes screamed flirtatiously at you when you locked your stare with him. He was radiating sex appeal, which argued your case for you.
“I bet you have two condoms sitting in your wallet. You replaced them this morning, because last night, you went to a different bar and did the same thing with another girl who couldn’t see right through you.” You guessed, eyes flickering to the pocket of his pants where the bulge of his wallet sat. “It’s written all over you, honey. Stick to the college bimbo’s if you want to get anywhere worthwhile.”
“Two condoms?” He pondered the idea, a smirk growing on his face. “I take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn’t.” You laughed, shaking your head at his undying commitment to knowing you. “It wasn’t meant as one.”
“Then it seems like you have a knack for making insults sound like a good thing.” His eyes flickered to your lips, his personality showing through the mask for a moment. He was enamoured with you, and he was from the minute he sat down. Your disinterest was not a deterrent to him, but rather a driving force. The banter was driving him crazy, and he was not willing to go home without you.
“Maybe you just have no idea how to take a hint.” You suggested the idea, but both of you knew he was painfully aware of the situation. He knew he could step back if he so pleased, but he did not want to, nor was it an option he was willing to consider. Oddly enough, you almost found it charming. His dedication was not creepy or anything like it, mostly because he was not using vulgarity as part of his charm. You knew if you got up and walked away, he would respect it. Unfortunately, he knew just as well as you did that you would never back down and give up your seat. You could complain all you wanted about his interest in you, but you were encouraging it by interacting with him. Even in your obvious rejection, he knew he had interested you enough for you to speak to him.
“I’m Jake.” He said, disregarding your comment.
“I said I didn’t care.”
“Never said you had to care.” He reminded, finishing his drink and raising a hand to call the bartender over again. You watched him, baffled at his carelessness towards your clear insults. It seemed to wash off of him like water on a duck’s back, barely touching his confidence and only fuelling him further. He ordered another round of drinks for both of you, not bothering to ask if you wanted another. As he spoke to the bartender, you couldn’t help but study him for a moment. He was gorgeously dressed, drawing attention to his stunning features as he topped it off with a cocky attitude. Everything about him was compelling, and even if you weren’t keen on his company, it was incredibly difficult to ignore him. He held himself with confidence, and because of that, he radiated power. You would be lying if you said you did not find him attractive, but it did not change the fact that you were not interested in pursuing anything with him, or anyone for that matter.
Ray placed your new drinks in front of you, wasting little time in busying himself with something else. You almost felt guilty for being so mean to Jake while he was funding your night of drinking, but you did not ask him to spend money on you. You did not even ask him to speak to you, yet it seemed like the only thing he wanted to do. “Thanks.” You said, looking down at the ice swirling in the amber liquid. Even if you didn’t want to engage in any kind of sexual relations with him, you still had manners.
“So, what are you here for, tonight?” He questioned, ignoring your gratitude. He did not want to be thanked for something he was more than happy to do. You raised an eyebrow, curious about his inquiry. “Well, you’re drinking whiskey, so clearly it’s not fighting, dancing, or crying.” You chuckled at his recollections of your earlier comment.
“I’m here for a cheap drunk.” You replied, honest with your answer. “Cheapest whiskey in town, and the regulars aren’t too bad, considering I’m one of them.” He nodded along with your words, soaking in all you were willing to share. “Every Friday, same bar, same seat, same shitty football games.”
“You’re saying I have another shot if I mess this up?” He gave a playful smile which you couldn’t stop yourself from returning.
“Sure, you can take as many shots as you want. It’ll be the same answer every time, I can promise you that.”
“We’ll see.” He answered as if it were a challenge and he was competing. You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back the expression. “Just a conversation, that’s all I’m asking for. After that, you can throw your drink in my face and forget about me in the morning.”
“I know that it’s more than a conversation to you, Jacob.” You shot back. People like him were predictable, even if they were charming. As much as you knew he would waste your time, you knew you were wasting his. It was in his best interest to find a girl who was more likely to go home with him, because he would inevitably leave the bar empty handed and wishing he had taken a chance on another.
“Sounds like you’re scared I’m going to change your mind.” Your spine straightened at the accusatory statement. You were not afraid, and you did not like being told by another what you were feeling. What you did like was a challenge, and now that he’d worded it as such, that was the only thing you could think of.
“Fine. Let’s talk.” You smacked your palms against the table, a course of energy running through your body. You swung your chair to face him, just so he knew you were fully immersed in him. If he wanted to have a conversation, you could do that. If he thought he could convince you to take a chance on him, you were more than willing to prove him wrong.
It was a mistake that could only be classified as a fatality.
“Where are you from, Jake?” You asked, trying your best to feign intrigue.
“Michigan.” He tried to hide the smirk growing on his lips, pleased that he managed to push the right buttons. “You?”
“Right here in Nashville. Born and raised, never left, don’t want to.” You explained, waiting for him to ask a question, now.
“What do you do for work?”
“Photography.” You replied, not willing to delve deeper into the subject.
“That’s really cool.” He noted, genuine interest showing in his face. “I’m a musician.”
“I see,” you hummed, knowing that it was just another reason for you to abstain from knowing him. Musicians were never good news, and growing up in Nashville, you’d learned that the hard way. Most people who chased after fame had little care for anything else, and they were destined to break hearts. “Let me guess, guitar?”
“How’d you know?” He asked, but he didn’t really think it was hard to guess. It was the most common instrument in the industry, and in Nashville, everyone played guitar.
“Lucky guess.” You joked. “Band or solo act?”
“Band, I’m no singer.” He laughed.
“Don’t need to sing to be a good guitarist.” You challenged.
“Good point,” he agreed. “We just moved here, thought it was time. We made a few albums, but we’re looking for something bigger.”
“Are you any good?” You sipped at your drink. The quick-fire questions were wearing you down and you needed a pick me up.
“I’d like to think so, but everyone has their own opinion.” You hummed in agreement, not willing to make a promise to listen to his music, but curious about his skill. “Maybe we could get you to do a photoshoot for us.”
“I’m out of your price range.” You teased, a smile on your lips. The conversation was not unbearable, but definitely was not something you came to the bar with intent to do.
“I’m sure we could figure out a suitable payment.” He said, unable to hold back the drop in his voice and the lustful twinkle in his eye. You watched him, wanting to chastise him for the flirting, but you felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in your stomach. You were immune to charm most of the time, but something about him was irresistible. You weren’t sure if it was the relaxed posture and the certainty in himself, or if it was the overwhelming beauty of him as a whole. Whatever it was, he was pulling you in without you even noticing. You were struggling to fight it mostly because it was so subtle. Before you could realize you were being trapped, there was no way you could escape.
“I thought this was just a friendly conversation, Jacob?” You couldn’t help the drawl in your tone that screamed for him to keep going. You wanted to blame it on the strength of the liquor in your cup lowering your inhibitions, mostly because you refused to admit it was solely due to his captivating stare.
“I don’t think I’m being unfriendly, sweetheart.” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, so delightful even if it was filthy.
“Too friendly, perhaps?” You corrected. Both of you were leaning in to each other without even realizing it. The tension was thick in the air, and it had been from the moment he sat down. Even if you were not looking for anything more, you couldn’t deny the strength of the chemistry between you.
“What’s your issue with me?” He smirked, wanting to get to the bottom of it.
“It’s not you specifically.” You were truthful with your answer. It was not him, but rather dating as a whole. “The whole dating game was never my thing, and I don’t plan on getting into it, now.”
“Who said anything about dating?” He challenged.
“Nobody, but I don’t like hookups, either.” You explained. “Something about pointless small talk and meaningless sex never really interested me. Why would I want to tell you about myself now just to try to forget you in the morning?”
“I’d like to think that you’d have a hard time forgetting about me.” He was cocky, and that was for certain. It was something that would usually be a turn-off, but it looked so good on him that you couldn’t seem to shoot him down. “What about something in the middle?”
“What could possibly be in the middle of that?” You scoffed. “I don’t want a hookup, and I definitely don’t want to go to breakfast in the morning. I like my personal space, and I like being alone. Knowing you complicates that, and I hate complicated.”
“Do you like having friends?”
“I think I’d be a bit strange if I didn’t.” You replied. “But I know you’re not looking to be friends.”
“Do you like sex?” He continued his questioning without even acknowledging your concerns. Although it was blunt and definitely not a normal topic of conversation for two people who just met, it did not bother you.
“Most do.” You took another sip of your drink, the warmth spreading to your chest and replacing the burn of arousal brewing in your stomach. “Depends if it’s good or not.”
“We can be friends that have really good sex.” He offered, raising an eyebrow while he waited for a response. When you didn’t answer, he continued trying to sell the idea. “Casual, no strings attached whatsoever, but you wouldn’t need to forget about me, and we wouldn’t be obligated to go to breakfast in the morning.”
“How can I agree to that when I’m not even sure I want to be friends with you? More than that, I have no idea if you’re as good as you think you are. I don’t like being disappointed, Jacob.” You were calling a bluff you knew did not exist. He looked as if he was put on this earth to please others in ways many could never imagine. Just looking at his hands made your mouth water, already knowing the power he held in them. You couldn’t even think of anything further than that, because you knew that it would be far beyond anything you had ever felt before. You were trying not to crack under the pressure, but the thought of his head between your thighs was making it nearly impossible to breathe. “Besides, what if I’m not all you think I am? You don’t seem like the type to like disappointment, either.”
“From what I’ve seen, I don’t think you have it in you to disappoint, sweetheart.” His hand slowly reached out, fingers ever so slightly grazing the exposed skin on your leg. The touch was searing, painful but addicting. “I don’t like dating, but I do like you. I think it would be a shame if we never saw each other again.”
“Getting sick of playing the game every night?” You theorized. “Sounds like you’re getting lazy.” He shook his head, eyes seemingly staring into your soul as he watched your face.
“I just know what I want,” he corrected “and I don’t think I need to keep looking.” It was impossible to believe he was lying, because the look in his eye spoke certainty without him needing to say anything more.
“So, friends who have really good sex?” You clarified.
“Friends who have phenomenal sex, actually.” He said.
“I’m a busy woman, Jake. You better not be looking to waste my time.” You explained. “If I’m going to find time to entertain you, it better be worth it.”
“I’m a busy man,” he agreed “but I know how to make it worth your while.”
“Theoretically, if we did decide to do this, we’d just be having sex?” You asked, wanting to be certain of the situation. “You aren’t going to fall in love and fuck it all up?”
“I’m sure we can have a drink at the bar together every now and again. That’s where the friends part comes in, but yes, just sex.” He laughed. “I like you, I find you incredibly attractive and interesting, and I would like to see you again after tonight, but the same way we’re doing it right now. Maybe with less insults.”
“I can’t promise the insult thing.” You found yourself laughing alongside him. “You’re a very forward person, you know. We barely know each other.”
“I know you enough to know that I like you, and I also know that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since moving here.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Jake.” You could feel your cheeks burning, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or his sweet words.
“It’s worked so far.” He breathed, finding himself leaning closer to you. Your faces were inches apart, both of you able to close the gap with little struggle. His eyes were locked with yours, silently begging you to give in to him. You could feel him pulling you in, almost as if he had his own gravitational force and you were the only victim of it. Although, you knew that wasn’t true. With charm like his, you were sure that you were not the only one cowering underneath the weight of it. For tonight, you were his focus, but when the morning came, you figured he would forget the idea of casual sex and already be in search of another. Players loved to play, and they always fought dirty. You were certain he was just saying what he could to get in your pants and he would be a different person when you woke in the morning.
His hand slipped to your hip, the touch was euphoric even through the material of your dress. You wanted to give in, but you thought it was too good to be true. Someone interested in meeting your physical needs without imposing on your everyday routine seemed like a great idea, but it was so perfect that you had a hard time believing it could be so simple. Even considering your fears, the ache between your legs was impossible to ignore, and it had been a long time since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another. “This sounds like a bad idea.” You warned, eyes flickering to his lips. His nose was brushing against yours now, sending jolts of electricity through you.
“Do you trust me?” He whispered, so quiet that it was almost hard to hear him over the music playing in the background.
“Not really.” You laughed, but just barely. You were scared to move away, and you were scared to move forward.
“One night, and if you still think it’s a bad idea, we can just forget about it.” He offered, still so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. He smelled like whiskey, and you were sure you caught a hint of a Cuban cigar. He was intoxicating, more so than any alcoholic beverage you had consumed that night. Your head was spinning and your rationality was slipping away. You were enamoured with him, and you felt like you were completely consumed by his presence. The world stopped turning, the music stopped playing; the only thing you could hear was your heartbeat which was in time with his own.
“One night?” You breathed, coming to terms with the idea that he was inescapable. You knew you should have walked away when you had the chance, but there was a bigger part of you that was grateful you stayed. You had the opportunity to add some excitement to your life without changing anything at all. You didn’t come to the bar in search of a thrill, but Jake seemed to be promising enough. No worry of a hookup that left you unfulfilled and regretful, and no expectation for anything more. It was exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
“One night. Trial run.” He reiterated, hoping to ease your mind. “That sound good to you, angel?” You went weak at the pet name, all of your willpower dissolving into an imminent need for more. You reached your hand up, cupping his cheek in your palm and bridged the gap between you. His fingers tightened on you, enthusiastic about your sudden change of heart. The kiss was laced with the weight of every sinful desire you had ever felt before, and even more than that. It was so profound that it made your chest ache and you feared that if there was a god, he would never forgive you for the sacrilegious things you so badly wanted to commit with the man before you. “Thought I couldn’t change your mind?” He asked, barely parted from you. You could feel him smirk against your lips, but it wasn’t even aggravating enough for you to care.
“Shut up and take me home, Jacob.” You said, unwilling to wait any longer in fear you might talk yourself out of it. Instead of a verbal response, he placed another kiss on your lips before turning to close out the tab you had run up. Within a few moments, your jacket was over your shoulders and he was calling you both a cab.
In the backseat of the car, you both tried your best to keep it PG, but the tension of the night was reaching a climatic end. His hand was permanently anchored on your thigh just under the skirt of your dress, fingertips dangerously close to the parts of you he was so desperate to know. Your hand was on his wrist, holding it tightly just to make sure he didn’t get any ideas that would get you in trouble. In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid for you to agree to go to a strangers house for the promise of sex. You had no idea if he was as genuine as he appeared, yet it seemed a bit too late for that concern. You also had no idea how he managed to coerce you into joining him, but a part of you was ecstatic that he did. The calloused fingertips dancing over the soft skin of your leg led you to believe that your decision would benefit you greatly, because no average person could produce such an impact with such a little effort.
Jake handed a bill to the driver once the car was parked in the driveway of an apartment complex. He didn’t wait for the change, but did utter a small thanks before rushing out to open your door for you. “A gentleman.” You noted. He gave a chuckle, slipping his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the door. He let you both inside, keeping quiet as he led you to his apartment. He unlocked his door, holding it open for you and allowing you to go first. You took in the sight, noticing the simplistic nature of the decor as you took off your shoes.
“It’s not much, but it’s home.” He said, flipping on a light for you.
“No, it’s cute. I like it.” You assured him, feeling nervousness begin to creep in. The air smelled like him, but you couldn’t place the familiarity. It was earthy, smoky, and overall enticing. In the kitchen, you noticed a couple frames on the walls with pictures of him and three other boys. Your eyes lingered over the faces, smiling as you studied them. You turned your head to look into the living room, noticing a record player under the dim yellow lighting of a lamp. There was a few posters splayed on the walls and a couple plants sitting on the windowsills. It was not what you were expecting, but you thought it was effortlessly him. You did not know him very well, but from what you knew of him, the vibe seemed to match the personality.
His hand landed on your lower back, causing you to jump slightly under his touch. “You okay?” He asked, looking down at you.
“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to cover up the anxious look on your face. “You’re not… you’re not going to kill me, are you? Because that would suck.” He let out a laugh, a true one that was loud and came straight from his chest.
“No, sweetheart, I can promise you I’m not going to kill you.” He said, turning you to face him. You looked up at him, seeing genuineness written all over his expression. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your chin between his fingers. “You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Okay,” you sighed, feeling relief flood your body. You knew that it was irrational, but hearing the words of comfort helped. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips as reassurance. “Is that the rest your band in those pictures?” You asked, finding the courage for conversation again. He looked to the frames, nodding his head.
“Yeah.” Without hesitation, he guided you towards them so you could get a closer look. “That one’s Josh, he’s my twin brother. He sings.” He pointed at the boy with short, curly hair. You did notice how similar their faces looked now that you were a bit closer. You thought it was cool that he was a twin, and you wondered if his brother had the same irrefutable charm. “That one is Sam, he’s my youngest brother, and he plays the bass.” He pointed towards the tall boy with long, brown hair. They also looked strikingly similar, and if he hadn’t already told you that Josh was his twin, you might have mistaken Sam to be one. “And that’s Daniel, our drummer. He’s Sam’s best friend, but he’s more like a brother, too.”
“That’s really cool, actually.” You said, looking back over at him. “You guys won the genetic lottery, looks and talent-wise.” The hand he had resting on your back tightened at the compliment as a smile began to blossom on his face. You could tell how much the other three boys meant to him without him even saying a word. “So, do you do this tour with everyone you bring home, or am I just special?”
“No, you’re just special.” He said without missing a beat. You felt your cheeks tinge red at his words, not expecting him to be so blunt. “Besides, friends need to know each other, right?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” You suddenly remembered that you were not there with the intent of being a one night stand. You would have asked him more, but you had a sneaking suspicion the tour was coming to an end. You both seemed to overcome your streak of anxiety and remembered the state that you arrived in. “So, are you going to prove that you weren’t bluffing, or are we just going to stand here all night?” He looked down at you, intrigued in your change of direction.
“Do you think I was bluffing?” He asked, shifting to face you. You looked up at him, giving a slight shrug of your shoulders.
“If the shoe fits.” You barely had time to process his reactive expression, because his hands were on your hips and his mouth was on your own. With the new found freedoms of privacy, desperation made its first appearance of the night. His hands were groping you with a feral attitude, and yours were doing just the same. It took no time for you to undo the buttons of his shirt, brushing it off his shoulders with excitement to see more. He let go of you only for long enough to slip the fabric off his body, then his hands returned to you in the same fervent manner.
The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, pulling you further into his web and trapping you there for eternity. You knew that despite your promises of only spending a single night together, you would be crawling back to him begging for more before the morning even came. In the (very) short time you’d known him, it was incredibly apparent to you that he was an addiction that was impossible to overcome. He was injecting himself into your veins, burrowing under your skin and filling your lungs with his being. You weren’t sure if it was purposefully, or if it was just an extension of his outlandish charm.
He took you by surprise, his grip tightening on your hips just before he lifted you with ease. He took a few steps forward, sitting you gently on his kitchen counter. He was quick to find home between your legs, never once breaking the kiss. You let your fingers dance over his now bare bicep, wanting to familiarize yourself with every part of him. When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless with stars in your eyes. “Do you still think I’m bluffing, or do I have to prove myself?”
“If I say no, it would ruin all the fun.” You sighed, still trying to catch your breath.
“I guess it’s a good thing I was going to prove it, anyway.” His fingers snaked under your dress, creeping up to your hip where the elastic of your underwear was resting. He hooked them through the side, but did not go any further. “Let’s go over some rules, first.”
“I hate rules,” you said, only focused on the sensation of his fingers resting on your bare skin. “They’re meant to be broken, anyway.”
“Not with me, sweetheart.” He chuckled, his other hand guiding your chin up so you would keep your eyes locked with his. “I’m going to be easy on you, but I need you to be honest with me about what you want. Got it?”
“Okay.” You nodded, the power in his gaze making your squirm underneath him.
“Remember your colours. Green means keep going, yellow means slow down, red means stop. Never, never be scared of telling me to stop or slow down.” The topic was not up for debate, and you were under clear understanding of what he needed from you.
“Okay.” You repeated, nodding your head against his hold. “Any other colours I should know?”
“How about blue, for ‘this is the best sex I’ve ever had’?” He smirked, playfulness sparkling in his eyes.
“Don’t expect to hear that one.” You teased, eyes flickering to his lips in hopes he would kiss you again. Your last jab seemed to motivate him to do so, but this time he didn’t seem as enthusiastic.
“Careful.” He warned. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty, or I wouldn’t be so nice.”
“How thoughtful.” You made sure your sarcasm was apparent. He seemed fired up at your response, but was not comfortable enough with you yet to show it. Or, perhaps he was afraid to scare you away. “Any other rules I should keep in mind?”
“Hmm,” he hummed, happy you asked. “You refer to me as ‘Sir’.” You had to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. The request was silly to you, and he was aware that you thought so. You had little desire to refer to someone you just met as ‘Sir’. Even if the dom/sub dynamic was something you enjoyed, you couldn’t deny that you liked to push buttons, and his seemed like so much fun to mess with.
“I think that’s a title you have to earn, don’t you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling him tense under your touch. He shifted his hold on your face, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers and raising an eyebrow at you. The look in his eye made you believe that his patience was already beginning to run thin. You fought back an eye roll, but couldn’t ignore the throbbing feeling between your legs that was growing stronger by the second. “Whatever you want, Sir.” You made sure to accentuate the emotion in the word, showcasing your feelings about the situation.
“Lose the attitude,” he ordered, but seemed pleased with the compliance. “If you’re good for me, I’ll be good to you.” Even in his dominating performance, he seemed to be gentle with you. He did not want to push you too far on the first try, mostly because he wanted to ensure you would come back for more. He liked you, and not just because he thought you were gorgeous. He liked the fire that seemed to burn in your heart, and the way you always had a comeback for any of his comments. He was not shy to admit that he was completely infatuated with you, and even if he was not interested in dating, he did think it would be a shame if he could not see you again once the night was through.
“I’ll be so good for you, Sir. I promise.” A smirk was plastered across your lips as you spoke, driving him crazy without even trying too hard. You couldn’t help yourself from messing with him. He was extremely attractive and you were very interested in what he had to offer, but you had never been the type to take orders without a fight. It appeared like he loved order, and you had always loved pushing boundaries.
It was a match made in hell, and both of you were completely blind to it.
“And you think I talk a lot?” He questioned, giving a hard tug on the fabric of your underwear. It tightened against your skin only for a moment before it snapped, giving him the freedom to do as he pleased with you.
“Hey,” you protested, your eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. “Those were expensive.”
“I’ll replace them.” He assured you, sliding his hand to the other side to do the same.
“So you’re offering to be a sugar daddy, now? Didn’t know that was part of the deal.” You huffed, using your hands to prop yourself up off the counter. With your new position, he removed the ripped fabric from you completely.
“Offering to replace what I destroyed doesn’t mean I’m paying you to fuck me.” He said, bunching the skirt of your tight dress and pushing it to your hips. You let yourself back down on the counter, the cool marble taking you by surprise. “I don’t need to pay you for that. We both know you’ll be back on your own accord.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself.” You argued, watching as his fingertips dusted over your bare thighs. You wanted to quiver under the touch, but you couldn’t allow him the satisfaction. His eyes flickered to your face, clearly displeased by your constant rebuttals. “Sir.” You added, noticing the muscles in his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. He continued forward, inching his fingers between your legs. He gave one forceful move of his wrist and spread them for you. A gasp of surprise slipped out as he brought his fingers to your cunt and ran them through the arousal that was pooling.
“And you talk a lot of shit for someone who wants to get fucked.” His voice was low, now completely unconcerned about your bratty attitude. He was done with the conversation, and he was more than ready to get you to stop talking. His fingers gathered the wetness, slowly trailing upward to your clit. He started with slow circles, his touch light as a feather and only serving as a reminder of what you were there for. You leaned back slightly, allowing him easier access to you. “Now, let’s hear something worthwhile come out of your mouth.” He applied a bit more pressure, the feeling already distracting you from your desire to argue. “How does that feel, angel?” He asked, sliding his thumb in place of his fingers and continuing his earlier pace.
“G-good,” you stuttered, amazed at the pleasure he was giving you just from the small movement. You weren’t sure if it was so good because of his talent, or if it had just been too long since you had felt the touch of another like such. At the positive nature of your comment, he found enough generosity to slowly add his fingers to you, pumping them slowly to give you some extra stimulation. “Fuck, baby.” You sighed, letting your head fall forward to rest on his own forehead. He could not chastise you for not using the term he’d asked you to, mostly because the pet name sounded so beautiful coming from your mouth.
In that moment, he was certain he would let you call him whatever you wanted as long as you said it in the same sweet tone.
“This is what you wanted, hmm?” He whispered, moving his thumb in time with the pump of his fingers, keeping the pace as the pressure steadily began rising in your belly. “Is this why you were being so bratty? You just wanted me to touch you?”
“Yes, sir.” You muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he curled his fingers upwards. He was making you feel far too good for you to want to disobey his orders.
“So, that’s the trick.” He chuckled, eyes intently focused on his hand working at your cunt. “Just need to give you some attention and that will shut you up.” He rasped, the sight of you nearly sending him feral. He was desperate for relief himself, but unwilling to show it until he knew you were well taken care of. If he wanted you to come back, he needed to give you something to make you want to come back.
“Please, don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling a thin layer of sweat form over your face. Your heart was pounding against your chest and your breathing was laboured. The pressure was unbearable, and the threat of an orgasm was imminent. You could not even find it within yourself to hold off, nor taunt him any further. It had been so long since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another, and you had never felt it quite it the same as he was giving you.
“Already?” He teased, but his tone was incredibly soft. He didn’t care that you were already there, and if anything, he took it as a compliment to his work. “Has nobody been taking care of you, angel?” He made it a point to perfect his movements, not wanting to lose the momentum even for a second. “Answer me,” he whispered, but the order was firm.
“N-no,” you shook your head against him, honesty radiating from you. You couldn’t really hide anything in such an intimate display, and you knew even if you tried to lie to him, he would easily see through you. “Nobody.”
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, sweet girl.” He assured you. The pet name washed over you like summer rain, enveloping you in warmth and surrounding you with a comfort that would last as long as he continued to touch you. “I’ll take care of her, just like she deserves.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his words, overwhelmed by the vulgarity and weak from the heartfelt promise. He felt you clench around his fingers, knowing that you were ready to come undone. He was more than willing to give you the orgasm, almost as desperate as you were for it. After an entire night of only being shot down, the gratification from taking you for his own was unexplainable. “Cum for me, angel. I know you want to.” He purred, moving his free hand to the back of your head for extra support. The last thing he wanted was for you to lose balance and be distracted from the pleasure.
“Oh, god.” You groaned, eyes screwed shut as your mind dissolved into nothing but thoughts about the man before you. You were praying to him as if he were the god that created the earth for you to walk on, and in that moment, he was. As the orgasm washed over you, the only thing to exist in the entirety of the universe was Jake, and you were perfectly content with the power he possessed.
But, he was not a god, nor anything holy. Jake was the devil reincarnate, and he was not there as a reward for your courageous sacrifices. He was there as punishment for every mistake and every sin you had committed in this lifetime and all the ones before. In that moment, he seemed like he was put in your life as a blessing, a gift for the troubles you had endured, but the reality was harsh and you were completely blind to it. When your mind cleared and the haze of sexual tension lifted, you were able to look deeper into the ties that held you together with him, but even then it did not seem to matter. His work was done, and you had fallen victim to the temptation. Jake would be the solution to every sexual desire that you could even imagine would come, but he would be the root cause for a world of trouble you had been desperately trying to stay away from.
Jake was the type of person you could fall in love with, and despite your hatred for dating and all things that came along with it, you were in long past in love just by the first touch. You were addicted to him, and dependancy was infinitely worse than love according to your standards. The power he possessed in his hands was otherworldly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine what else he had in store for you. Your agreement for a single night would be the worst decision you had ever made, but like all bad decisions, you would not realize the extent of the issue until it was long past repairable.
You were brought back to reality by Jake removing his hand from you. The loss of contact was nearly excruciating, and you were desperate for him to keep going until the both of you collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. Even then, you were sure you could still find enough energy to wrap yourself around him once more. “How was that, angel?” He hummed, pulling back from you only slightly. You looked up at him, your eyes heavy-lidded and your body still trembling with the ghost of the orgasm.
“It was so good,” you sighed, already reminiscing on the memory. He gave you a smirk, so small that it was barely noticeable, but you picked up on it. You were certain that you would study ever minuscule detail and movement until it drove you to insanity. He was so captivating that he was the only thing you wanted to know about. He raised his fingers to his lips, sliding his middle finger in his mouth while holding a steady eye contact with you. When his finger landed on his tongue, his eyes fluttered closed in bliss, savouring the taste of your orgasm for as long as he could. After a few seconds, he pulled the digit from his lips, leaving a slight echo of a pop ringing through the air.
“Taste even better than I imagined.” He muttered. Your entire body prickled with an unfamiliar feeling, and you thought you might come undone again just at the sight. Your skin was ablaze with arousal, and your chest was burning with need for him. You had little care about what he was going to do next, and you were just happy to be on the receiving end of it. “See, it wasn’t so hard to be good for me, was it?”
“No, sir.” You breathed, watching him in awe. He took in a long breath, letting the word settle deep in his bones with pride.
“Can you keep being a good girl for me?” He asked, his voice barely breaking through the air.
“Yes, sir.” You nodded, making sure he knew you were being truthful. He smiled at the sound, crouching down slightly and hooking his legs under your thighs. Gently, he brought you to the edge of the countertop, wasting no time before bringing his mouth to your cunt. It was a fantastic apology for the withdrawal of his hands, and it send you straight back into a cloud of euphoria. Your hands snaked to his hair, pulling at the roots in attempt to get him closer than he already was.
His tongue found your clit with little hesitation, and he was working at you like a man starved. His fingers were branding your thighs with marks bound to last long past the excitement, and you didn’t care a bit about it. The evil laced within the movements of his tongue was incomprehensible, much greater than anything he had bestowed upon you with his fingers. You wanted to believe that the man nestled between your thighs was purely human that had just been blessed with otherworldly charm, but you were beginning to have your doubts about the matter. You feared that he was an entity you had not yet encountered, one with strength and power you could not comprehend.
By the first touch, you were in too deep to pull yourself out, and now, you had done nothing but cement the foundation of the entanglement so strongly that not even an earthquake could shake it. He was so powerful that he made it seem natural, and it was almost terrifying. He could leech your life supply directly from the source without you even noticing, and once he began, it felt too good to stop him. He made it appear that you were the one controlling the situation, yet the control had never even been close enough for your fingertips to graze. He was inhuman, and that much you were sure of. The evil was so abundant inside of him that not even a priest could expel it enough to free him.
You knew this to be true, because as your eyes drifted downwards towards him, you could have sworn you saw the shadow of devil horns on the wall when the city lights broke through the darkness just right.
You did not have the luxury to focus on your revelations, because he had brought his hand back to you and continued at his earlier pace. A guttural moan tore from your chest, the feeling overwhelming and making it unable to focus on anything other than him. You finally understood why he was not interested in dating; he was so good at sex that it would be a waste of talent to only share it with one person. It made you curious as to why he was interested in a casual relationship with you, and why he thought that you were the golden ticket to fulfilling all of his needs. You were not anything fantastic, nor were you offering him anything substantial. You could not understand the potential he saw in you, but if he was willing to give you the promise of his hands and his tongue, you would be a fool to refuse it.
You were certain you could not only live, but thrive off the pleasure he was giving you for the rest of your life. If he was interested in a casual commitment to each other, low effort but with a glorious reward, you were more than happy to participate in the agreement. You were certain enough in yourself to cut him off if it got too intense, and you were committed enough to your own security to know when it was time to end things. In the meantime, harmless fun sounded fantastic, and he could provide just that. Besides, he looked too ethereal with his head between your thighs to worry about any consequences. Despite it only being the first time, he was so effortless with his work that it appeared as if he always belonged there.
“Fuck, Jake.” You hissed, finding it hard to keep holding yourself upright. Your arm was shaking underneath the weight of your body, and you cared so little about falling that you didn’t even bother to stop him so you could reposition. The pressure in your belly was intense, letting you know that you were close to the end anyway, and you didn’t need to take any precaution. If he continued at the same pace, you wouldn’t be able to contain your second orgasm of the night.
He hummed against you, showing his enthusiasm about your enjoyment. He made sure to curl his fingers again, remembering that you had enjoyed it the first time he had done it. A rush of pleasure ran through you and your legs involuntarily tightened against his head. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, completely disconnected from your brain and doing whatever it could to keep him there. The movement did not deter him, but only encouraged him further. With one last flick of his tongue in just the right place, you were driven over the edge and crying out his name. Your whole body was rigid, the intensity unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. If his intent truly was to give you the best sex of your life, he had went above and beyond to accomplish it, and you weren’t even to the best part, yet.
He slowly pulled back as he noticed you relax against him, instead peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs. As you both attempted to catch your breath, the tension in the air was at an all time high. You were eager for more, and he was eager to get started. When your mind cleared and you were able to form a coherent thought, you looked down at him with adoration sparkling in your eyes. “Blue.” You whispered, your voice raspy and your throat coarse from the noises he had pried from you. He looked up at the sound, unable to hide the smile on his face. His eyes told you that you had just given him the greatest compliment he’d ever received.
“Really?” He said as if he were pondering the truth of the statement. “I’m just getting started.”
“Really.” You sighed, nodding your head. It was a sad sigh, mostly because you hated admitting that he had been right all along. But, you had always been one to believe that you should give credit where credit is due, and this was definitely a perfect example of the philosophy. “I’ll even clean your counters for you, since I was the one who made the mess.” You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat with a blush.
“Don’t worry about that,” he brushed you off, rising to his feet. “That was the best meal this kitchen has ever seen.” You rolled your eyes at the comment, but couldn’t help the smile that was blossoming on your lips. Even in his boyish humour, there was still an unexplainable charm laced into it. Everything about him was irresistible, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him. You held on to his arm for support as you got down off the counter, refusing to let go until you were steady on your feet. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and bringing him into another kiss. The suddenness distracted him from his comment, and he was immediately immersed in you once again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, a gentle tease and a thank you for his service. You could feel him start to smile as you pulled away.
Without any further conversation, you slowly sunk to your knees in front of him. It took him a second to process your change in direction, but he certainly could not find a complaint about it. He was painfully hard, his erection strained against his pants as he waited for you to proceed. You made the process as slow as possible, needing to resume your commitment to your teasing. You knew it was driving him crazy, and if you had to admit, you loved it. You brought your hand to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops. You discarded it on the floor, moving next to the button and zipper. You unzipped it painfully slow, making sure to hold eye contact with him while you did so. With his help, his pants were also discarded in the floor, leaving him only in his boxers.
Your mouth was watering at the thought of what was beneath the thin material, eager to please him after such a phenomenal performance from him. With a little courage, you took the final step in freeing him from his boxers. You felt another rush of arousal straight to your core at the sight. He was desperate for relief, but he was allowing you to make the first move; as excited as he was, he cared greatly about your comfortability and wanted you to know you had the option to change your mind if needed. You moved forward, parting your lips slightly as you took him into your mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure at the feeling, the stimulation small but still fantastic. The sound gave you a boost of confidence, knowing that he would enjoy whatever you were offering him.
You relaxed your jaw, focusing on his head just for a moment. You let your tongue flick over the sensitive area a few times, revelling in the sounds of enjoyment coming from him. You thought they were the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard, and you would go to the ends of the earth to continue pleasing him just to hear them again. After a moment, you drew in a long breath before taking him in further. You took him far enough for the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat, then you began to bob your head. His head fell backwards in bliss as his hand reached to gather your hair from your face. You let out a moan against him, the vibration intensifying the feeling for him.
You had never been so willing to submit to a man, let alone a stranger on a one night stand, but you were willing to do it all for him. He was intoxicating, and you wanted to live in the filthy, drunken hookup for the rest of your life. It was exhilarating, and you had never experienced sex that was so enjoyable. Usually, the men talked themselves up so much that they inevitably underperformed. With some, it was easy to overlook the disappointment because they left you with an orgasm or two, but most didn’t even meet that quota. Never in your life had you found someone who was so concerned with your pleasure, and never one who was so willing to give before receiving anything himself. It was practically unheard of in modern dating and hookup culture, and you weren’t willing to let him slip through your fingers.
If he wanted casual with no strings attached, you would oblige to the request without any further hesitation. He had proved himself beyond anything you could have imagined, and your only hope was that you could do the same.
He let out a sigh, holding your hair tightly in his fist. He couldn’t stop himself from guiding your head down on him, the need for more too much to resist. “You look even prettier with my cock in your mouth.” He muttered, looking down at you while you tried to keep up with his guidance. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare through your lashes. He was feral looking, his jaw hard set with a flame dancing in his pupils. He was crazy for you, and he felt no need to hide it. You let out a hum of agreement, the vibration adding a little more energy to the sensation he was already experiencing. “Fuck, angel.” He groaned, adding a little more force to his hand. “Just tap my leg if you need me to stop.”
With that, he began moving your head for you, completely taking the control. He tried his best to keep it tolerable for you, but he was succumbing to the pleasure more with each second that passed. You tried your best to focus on your breathing rather than the feeling of him down your throat, but it was growing difficult with each thrust of his hips. Tears were forming in your eyes, smudging mascara down your cheeks, and you were fighting a gag with every movement. You were too stubborn to give up, but you had to admit that his size was a bit hard to handle. His grip on your hair was tight, and he seemed too enthralled in the moment to notice your struggle.
He pushed your head down on him, his cock sliding down your throat as his head fell back in bliss. Your eyes squeezed shut as your throat constricted around him, the gag no longer able to be prevented. He let out a long slur of curses laced with a moan, enjoying every second of your suffering. You had to admit that you were enjoying it too, and you knew that you would do it a million times over again just to please him. You felt him twitch in your mouth, a sure sign that he was close, but he wasn’t willing to risk ending the fun. He withdrew, finally allowing you a full breath of air. You coughed a few times, clearing your throat and bringing yourself back to reality. He kneeled down to your level, eyes carefully inspecting your face.
He did enjoy the sight of you so disheveled, but he worried that he went a little too far. He brought his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the tear stains as you wiped your chin clean from any spit still lingering. “You want me to fuck you now, baby?”
“Yes, please.” You muttered, nodding your head eagerly. He helped you to your feet, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss that lasted only a few seconds.
“Let’s get this off of you.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands snaking under the bunched up material of your dress. You pulled back from him, lifting your arms and allowing him to slip it over your head. He tossed it to the floor, but his eyes were only focused on your now fully exposed body. He took in a long breath, trying his best to contain the filthy thoughts he was having, but it was showing clearly in his expression alone. You watched him, silent and unmoving while you awaited his next move. Slowly, he brought his hands back to you, gentle in his touch as if he thought you were fragile. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen some so beautiful before and he wanted to take his time to fully admire you.
His hands dropped to your hips as he guided you towards him and your hands reached out for him, already yearning to feel him on your skin again. He kissed you again, more intense than the one before and this time, he didn’t seem keen on breaking it. In a swift motion, he picked you up once more. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Instead of placing you on the counter again, he turned around and broke the kiss just for a moment to see what his next move would be. His eyes landed on the kitchen table, his train of thought apparent without him even speaking a word. He took two steps forward, holding you tightly with one hand to make sure he wouldn’t drop you. He inspected the surface that was littered with papers and journals full of half-written songs.
With little care, he took his free hand and swiped away all of the items with a single movement. You turned your head, looking to watch all of papers float to the floor with little grace. You couldn’t deny that his actions only turned you on more; the desperation laced within his solution was hot, much like everything else he had done that night. He bent down, placing you on the table with caution. He let his hands fall back to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the table so he could have easy access to you. His hand drifted to your lower back as he brought his lips to your neck, finding the most sensitive spots straight away. You barely knew him, and you barely knew anything about him, but he seemed to know your body better than anyone ever had before. It was like he had a greater understanding of you than even yourself.
A breathy moan sounded from you as he sucked light marks into the skin just below your ear. One of his hands came to your chest, happy that your lack of clothing was giving him the opportunity to know all of you. He let his thumb drift over your nipple, sending a surge of electricity straight through you. Everything he was doing felt amazing, but you were done with the foreplay, even if it was fantastic. The tension was so strong that you thought you might break underneath the weight of it.
“Please fuck me, Jake.” You begged, delirious from all of the stimulation that you were feeling. “I need you.” His eyes rolled back in his head at the sound, addicted to the feeling of being needed by you. It was better than any drug and stronger than any other addiction. He would do whatever he could to make sure you always wanted him that way.
“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” He threw out the rhetoric, not expecting an answer from you. Instead he hiked your leg up and around him, making sure you took the hint to hold it there. “Didn’t realize you were such a little whore.” The word knocked the air from your lungs, replacing it with a venomous desire. Your chest was burning from how badly you needed him, and you knew that you would do anything just to be insulted by him, because even hurtful words sounded pleasant coming from his mouth. It was a luxury to be a whore for him, and you were an idiot for trying so hard to turn him down.
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, both of you aching for relief, knowing that the sex was bound to be beyond anything you had been imagining all night. “You want me, angel?” He asked, his voice husky and filled with lust. You caught sight of his eyes, which were now completely unfamiliar to you. The warm brown that was so inviting was not black with desire, and a different man was standing before you.
If you had to admit, you liked this one much better.
“Please, sir. Need you inside of me.” You whispered, sweetly and softly to coax him into giving you what you wanted. The gentle tone seemed to drive him over the edge, and without any further consideration, he pushed himself inside you. You both let out a mutual sigh of satisfaction at the feeling, but you were both already wanting more. He could not bother with a slow start, knowing that neither of you wanted to take things easy. His rocked his hips while keeping a firm hold on your hips, making sure nothing could disturb the long awaited pleasures.
You wrapped an arm around his neck, already finding yourself bargaining with an orgasm. If he was an evil entity, his trade was sex, and you knew he could use it for punishment and reward. Something about him was otherworldly, and you started to fear that your agreement with him would ultimately be your demise. He made you feel too good to want to let go of him, but the idea of the relationship getting messy was paralyzingly terrifying. At the same time, rationality was only second to the way he made you feel, and heartbreak was a risk you were willing to take to indulge in his sin.
“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair.
“Does that feel good, baby?” He did not need to ask the question; he already knew the answer, and the affirmation was solely to further his growing ego.
“Feels so fucking good.” You whimpered, struggling to keep your leg wrapped around him while he continued on his brutal pace. He was hitting the perfect angle, a pleasurable pain shooting through you with every re-entry. He used his arm to guide your upper half down towards the table, and you used a free hand to hold yourself up.
“Being so good for me, angel.” His fingers reached between your legs while his gaze stayed focused on your face, enthralled in the expressions you were making. Your eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he found your clit again, rubbing circles as he continued to fuck you. You thought it almost comical that he called you angel, because you were so convinced that he was the devil. The two did not seem to coincide with each other, yet you remained tangled up in each other in what felt like perfect harmony.
The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, much more intense than you expected, and it was a feeling you wished to have forever. You would be perfectly content if you lived out your next sixty years in the same position, with his hands on you and his sweet words whispered in your ear. His fingers focused on your already sensitive clit was driving you near insanity. You weren’t sure if he was naturally good at what he did, or if he was trying extra hard to ensure you would come back to him. Either way, you were certain that when the morning came and you sobered up, you would still want him just the same. Days would pass, and you would be knocking on his door begging for a shred of what he gave you the first night you spent together. It was so good that you didn’t even care if he played the same game with every girl he picked up at the bar, because even if it was a reused version of his character, it was working. Every movement, every slight touch and sweet word that came from his mouth seemed special, like it was perfectly crafted just for your taste. You wanted to believe that even if he was a player and you were a recluse that denounced love, the moments shared between you was of importance.
“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” His words came out in a slight slur, telling you that he was having a hard time holding back his own orgasm. The night was so full of excitement that you were both surprised he held on for as long as he did. He was ready to fuck you as soon as he laid his eyes on you in the bar, and everything that came after was pure torture. He was struggling with not succumbing to the temptation, mostly because he was determined to give you even more than he already had. Disappointment was not a factor he was willing to accept.
“Yes, please.” You pleaded, noticing the movements of his fingers become more precise. His free hand rose to your neck, his fingers gently clasping around it to give you a chance to speak up against the action. You were so strung out from the pleasure that you were sure he could do whatever he wanted to you and you would never be able to find a complaint about it. When he was certain you were comfortable with his actions, his fingers tightened ever so slightly, beginning to restrict the blood flow to your head.
You took in a long breath, the burning in the pit of your stomach growing stronger by the second. You let your eyes close to focus on the pleasure, feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. “Come on, angel.” His gentle encouragement was heavenly paired with the movement of his fingers and his hips. You were barely hanging on, and as his hand tightened around your neck again, all of the nerves in your body ignited with a fire that was impossible to contain.
“Jake,” you warned, but the words were weak and the rasp in your voice made it near impossible to hear. He was listening intently though, and he heard it as clear as day. It was nothing but motivation for him, driving him to keep going. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was most concerned with making you feel good. His pleasure came second to yours, and it was not up for debate.
Your head began to spin and your legs started to shake. The earth felt like it was turned upside down and it was spinning out of control. The orgasm tore through you in a violent fashion, but you couldn’t seem to find the energy to voice it to him. He slowly released his hold on your neck and instead moved his hand to the back of your head to hold you upright. You took in a long breath, unsure if you would ever be able to fill your lungs with the air you so desperately needed. “That’s it,” he muttered, slowing his hips slightly to allow you to recover “that’s my girl.” The words send another rush of pleasure through you, extending the climax even further.
You were exhausted, but he was far from done. As you regained some control over your body and mind, he ceased the movement of his fingers. “That was amazing.” You sighed, clearing your throat from the rasp that was still lingering.
“Yeah?” He crooned, a cocky smile on his lips. Once he was sure you were well and fully recovered, he withdrew and used his arm to slide you off of the table. When your feet hit the floor, he wasted no time turning you around and guiding your upper half down towards the table. “You think you can keep being good for me?” He asked, the tip of his cock already eagerly resting against your cunt. You let out a mutter of agreement, too tired to speak the words to him. “Just a little bit longer, sweet girl.” He promised, reaching up and twisting your hair into his fist.
With that, he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling amplified even further due to the ghost of your last orgasm. You were extremely sensitive, almost so much so that you questioned if you could keep going. Once he started a steady rhythm and you were pulled back into pleasure, you knew you could. You would do anything to give back the feeling that he was giving you. “Oh, god.” You groaned, the angle in which he was moving already driving you crazy. His hand tightened on your hair, pushing your head further down on the table. Your cheek was pressed against it, but he wasn’t holding you too harshly in fear of hurting you. The legs of the table were rocking with his movement, and as he sped, you feared that it might break under the pressure.
“You take it so good, angel.” He muttered, but he was no longer talking to you; he was so lost in the sex that he had no filter for his thoughts. Anything and everything that came to mind was ultimately spoken, mostly because he could not find the will to hold it back. “Such a good little whore.” You let out a shaky breath, the words settling deep in your stomach, blossoming into the beginning of another orgasm. His free hand raised and his palm came down on your ass with a loud smack. It sent a jolt of pain through you, making you jump under the touch. “Can you give me one more?” He asked, his hips stuttering as he tried his best to keep his composure.
“I don’t know,” you were honest with him, knowing that you would love to comply with every one of his wishes, but also knowing that even the thought of another orgasm was exhausting. Your body was tired, and so was your mind. He was pushing you as far as you could go, but you were more than happy to let him do it.
“I know you can, sweetheart. Just one more.” He said, but it was a plea hidden inside a powerful tone. He needed you to come again, just so he could ensure he gave you as much as he possibly could.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, your body doing all of the decision making for you. The knot in your stomach was tight, and your legs were locked in position to brace yourself for the intensity of the pleasure. The more he spoke to you, the more certain you felt about being unable to withstand another climax. Then again, you were sure he could convince you of anything if he was using the same sultry tone of voice.
“That’s it, baby.” He reinforced the idea, hoping you would submit to the feeling and stop worrying.
“I can’t,” you shook your head against his grip, knowing that you were long past your limit, even if your body was trying to convince you otherwise. The feeling of him inside you was so good that it was nearly painful, and your entire body was ablaze with overstimulation. He let his hand come down on your ass again, the sound echoing through the room and making home in the walls, permanently cementing the memory there. Neither of you would ever be able to look at the room the same way after such a filthy display was made in it.
“You can,” he pressed, not liking the disobedient attitude. He continued on with the steady movement of his hips, and before you knew it, you descended into a whole new type of pleasure below him. Your entire body seemed to give out from underneath you. Your legs were vibrating and tears were forming in your eyes as a slur of moans and curses fell from your lips. He slipped his arm underneath your hips, holding you up so there was no fear of you falling. Your walls were clenched around him, and you thought that the intensity alone would kill you. “Fuck, y/n.” He hissed, absolutely smitten by the state of you.
His own orgasm came harshly, sending him into a similar state of euphoria. His movements stuttered, and he was holding you up while trying not to topple over himself. Eventually, once you both seemed to relax, he slowed his hips to a near stop. He looked down at the sight, his jaw clenched as he fucked his release back into you. He was almost disappointed that the fun had come to an end, but he knew that you were much too tired to continue on. Carefully, he withdrew from you while continuing to hold you steady. “You okay, sweetheart?” The concern in his voice was astounding.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, your eyes refusing to open. You were so tired that you could have fallen asleep standing there, and your body was aching from the nights excitement.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He spoke softly, so different from the way he was speaking to you only moments before. He removed his hand from your hair and helped you off the table. When you were steady on your feet, he let his hand fall on your lower back in a gentle embrace, full of concern and care. He guided you to the bathroom where you both cleaned yourself and erased any evidence from the sinful experience you had engaged in. When you were finished, you returned to the kitchen and made a move to grab your dress. “What are you doing?” He chuckled, watching you with curiosity.
“Getting my clothes so I can go home.” You answered, but the sleepiness was making it hard to formulate the words.
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head, walking to meet you. He grabbed the dress from your hand and tossed it back on the floor before nudging you in the direction of his bedroom. “There’s no way I’m letting you get in a cab like that. I can take you home tomorrow.”
“I’m okay,” you tried to argue, but you were melting into the warm touch of his hands.
“You’re staying here, end of discussion.” He said, making sure you knew that he would not allow you to leave. “I’m not putting you in a taxi with a stranger while you’re this drunk and tired. Who knows what could happen.” He mumbled, the second part was more to himself than anything else. It almost seemed as if he was ashamed of caring so deeply.
“You’re a stranger, Jake.” You reminded him, but your eyes landed on the bed and you immediately felt a change of heart. It was screaming with coziness, the blankets and pillows more inviting than anything you’d ever seen before.
“Don’t think you can call me a stranger anymore, sweetheart.” He laughed, opening his dresser to grab you a t-shirt to sleep in. He tossed it on the bed so you could grab it, which you did while uttering a small thank you. You slipped it over your head, the smell of his cologne was overwhelming and oddly comforting. You pulled back the comforter and slid into the bed, your eyes immediately closing in bliss. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” He said, the sound causing you to crack an eye open in surprise.
“What?” You asked, baffled at his statement. “No, you can… I mean, if you want to… I don’t think it’s fair if I get the bed and you get the couch.” Your words came out in a jumbled mess, and your thoughts were just the same. “I can stay on the couch, or we can both… yeah.” You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment. You weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk or if it was because he was hot, but you were flustered and apparently, no good at hiding it.
“You’re sure you’re with me being in bed, too?” He didn’t speak a word about your nervous rambling. He didn’t want to embarrass you further, and in truth, he didn’t really care. He was only concerned about your comfort.
“Yeah.” You assured him. “Like you said, not really strangers anymore.” You laughed.
“That’s true.” He nodded, slipping on a pair of boxers and climbing under the covers, too. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him.
“Pushing it.” You said, but humour was clear in your tone.
“Shut up and go to sleep.” He laughed as you relaxed against him.
And sleep you did, carelessly and peacefully, unknowing and uncaring about the world of trouble you had created in just one small lapse of judgement. The morning would come and your senses would return, but it was far too late to stop the situation from descending into the chaos you were so desperate to avoid. His web was spun, and you were caught, even if neither of you were aware of the mistakes you had made that inevitably landed you there. The first deadly sin was committed, soon to be followed by six more, and not even a confession nor repenting could save you from your own wrongdoings.
TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik
406 notes · View notes
jakeysbuttsheeks · 4 months
Text
Show me how
Tumblr media
Warning: sexual content, fluff , crying , yelling, hot passionate creamy sex , oral sex , soft Jake , angry Jake , grammar mistakes, etc
Pairings: Jake X fem reader
18+ mdni
Little moments with Jake made him your pillar of comfort, the way the two of you instinctively knew what eachother needed without having to say a word .
There was never any awkwardness between you and him . The two of you completely see-through to only eachother. The connection so deep and pure you never wanted him to be more than a friend.
That doesn't mean you didn't find Jake attractive. You thought he was the most beautiful person you'd ever met , and he thought the same of you . And two of you did loved eachother very much .
You just made it clear that you didn't want immature feelings and hormones to take over and ruin the beautiful thing you and Jake had .
You were soul tied with Jake emotionally. He was your everything. But it was never more than that , you never allowed it to be .
Jake would seek to you for comfort when he went through a break up or any fights with his girlfriends and you would do the same with him with your boyfriends.
You knew Jake would never see you as a sexual partner anyway because you were not pretty or anything special, but he never found the same emotional connection with any other girl he ever dated no matter how pretty. That's why he always circled back to you , and you to him.
Years of this went on . Most people refused to believe you and Jake weren't dating. You understood why .
You and Jake were touchy with eachother because y'all were comfortable with eachother. Hugs was daily must and falling asleep with him happened way too often for you to control.
His presence was comforting, you couldn't help but fall asleep when he was with you just laying in bed sometimes.
And that's exactly what had happened just now . Jake sleeping on his back with his arm out , with you sleeping next to him with your head on his shoulder . How you got into that position was unknown, it just happened like always.
But it was all interrupted when someone's phone started buzzing. Waking the both of you up , but neither of you wanting to move .
"shit y|n-" Jake groan as the sudden sharp pain hit his arm. It had fallen asleep from your head resting on it .
He didnt even have to tell you , you groan and lifted your head off his shoulder and instead lay on his chest , stuffing your face into him as he lifted his stiff arm and wrapped it around you before looking for the phone that was buzzing with his other hand .
"ugh" Jake fusses as he answered the call . Your eyes are closed , wanting to get more sleep but you ears listened closely to Jake's conversation.
"yeah yeah we're coming we're coming" Jake sat up , making you roll over and lie on your side , still wanting to sleep more .
"alright Jesus" Jake spoke as he cut the call and tossed his phone back into the sheets before turning at you .
"get up" Jake nudged you hip before letting out a yawn and running his fingers through his messy hair . You whine in irritating, not moving from your comfortable position in bed .
"we're late y|n. Josh is having a fit . I swear to god we need to stop falling asleep like this" he spoke , letting out a light chuckle as he nudged you again .
"I don't wanna come. Tell him I'm sick" you mumble, with your face squished into the pillow .
"yeah sure" Jake snickered. "I know you , you'll say you don't wanna come but then when I leave you'll cry because you got left out. Get your ass up" Jake smacked you lightly this time and you groaned again , knowing he was right .
"coomee on" he dragged , practically lifting you off the bed but you fell to the floor , deliberately being stubborn in order to get babied by him but he just walks off leaving you on the ground, knowing you'll just get up on your own eventually .
He headed to the bathroom and you just lay on the floor for him to finish . He had a quick shower and came out with a towel around his waist .
You got off the floor once he came out and you went in . The smell of his shampoo and body wash heated the bathroom. You hummed at the soothing feeling as you took your own clothes off to shower .
The both of you dressed and finally left to the party that josh was hosting. Y'all were almost 2 hours late but that was early for you two .
"ah look who it is" josh says as the two of you enter while you bickered about the heels you were wearing and Jake just told you to suck it up .
"hi Josh" you say with a wide smile as you hug him before he broke the hug and did the same to Jake.
"no, why bother coming even?" Josh said sarcastically.
"oh shut up" Jake mumbled to him before you caught eye of some of your friends and you scurried off to them , leaving Jake with his brothers.
A couple hours went by and the party had shifted to Josh's backyard. You had gone to get drinks for everyone at your table , somehow balancing them all in your two hands as you came up to the picnic table outside where they were sitting.
But you noticed Anna had taken your seat next to Jake . She had been trying to get under Jake's pants all summer , but Jake had told you how annoying she was and how he'd never get with her.
"there she is! C'mere" Jake slapped his palms in his thighs and gestured for you to sit on his lap , noticing you had nowhere to sit .
You smile widely as you passed out the drinks on the table and sat on his thighs diagonally, his arm instinctively rested over your thighs with his other hand grabbing his drink .
"what'd I miss?" You as you took a sip of your own drink , making yourself comfortable on Jake's lap as you noticed the whole table was turned to the small lit up cement dance floor in Josh's backyard.
"there , look at how desperate Joe is" Jake leaned to your ear as he pointed to the dance floor subtly . Your eyes caught Joe dancing with letta , practically throwing himself at her, and she at him .
"oh he's definitely getting laid tonight" You let out a laugh as you noticed letta was throughly enjoy the attention.
"that's exactly what I said!" Jake chirped as the whole table continued to watch the dance floor . You could tell Anna was annoyed that you were sitting on Jake's lap but you couldn't give a damn .
"oh my god!" Jake perked when the song changed , almost instinctively you reacted the same way . The both of you loved that song , Jessie's Girl .
You were already off his lap as he dragged you over to the dance floor. Josh , Danny and other others too came to join. You noticed Anna still stayed there sulking as she watched Jake pull you into him by your hips before his hand snaked behind you and rested on the small of your back .
You loved dancing with Jake . He always made you feel so comfortable with yourself. The way he'd twirl you and cheer you on when you let yourself out truely made you happy .
By the time the song ended you were dancing with Sam somehow, he was making you laugh your guts out with his sillyness until it was interrupted by Anna .
"be honest with me. Are you and Jake fucking or not?" Anna asked making you stop dacing and turn to her while Sam continued dancing with some girl .
"excuse me?" You scoff . She wasn't even dating Jake , she had no right to be up in his ass.
"he's my best friend Anna" you respond.
"yeah yeah I know that bullshit. But y'all fuck don't y'all?" She spat rudely , ruining your mood .
"no Anna we don't fuck. And you should mind your own business" you spit back with the same energy she gave out .
"Jake is my business. I really like him. And if y'all aren't fucking you should back off and let other people have a chance .It's clear you're only friends with him because you're too ugly to fuck anyway. He'll never see you as anything more than just a friend so fuck off out of his personal space. it's fucking suffocating. He's going to be depressed and bitchless because you won't get off his back" she spat as she walked away . You couldn't help the way your mouth hung open and the tears that blurred your vision.
You were off the dance floor and into the house, locking yourself in the bathroom as you tried to tell yourself Anna was just being a bitch because she was jealous.
She was pretty, prettier that you . Blonde long hair , pretty lips , clear skin , blue eyes , perfect body . A total babe . You were not particularly slim , and you didn't have pretty eyes or pretty hair or clear skin . You were funnier than her for sure but that wasn't something men found fuckable did they ?
You ended up bawling your eyes out and crying. What little confidence you had was shattered like glass.
"y|n?" You were startled when you heard Jake call out for you somewhere in the house .
"where are you ?" He called out again and you heard his footsteps against the floor with the party music still playing loudly in the distance.
Your nose was clogged and you knew you'd sound like a weeping mess if your answered, instead you wiped your face before turning on the tap to wash it , trying to to hide the fact that you were crying.
"y|n you in here?" Jake called , knocking on the door when he heard the tap running in the bathroom.
"yeah" you answer, trying to muffle out your voice with the water .
"what's wrong? You've been gone for a while . You okay?" He asks . How you wished to fall into his embrace and cry into him .
"yeah" you answer in monotone, almost in the same way you answered him before.
"Anna's been practically molesting me and I've been waiting for you to come save me but you're taking ages" Jake complained.
You accidentally let out a grunt when you were reminded of Anna .
"do you have a guy in there!?" He asked in amusement as he turned the door knob but it was locked . You could hear the smile on his voice.
"No!" You immediately say as you turned the tap off .
"lies!" Jake chuckled as he rattled the doorknob again .
You just had to open the door or you'd never hear the end of it from him .
You opened the door to find him immediately swinging the door open, disappointed to find no one in there but you . Then his eyes fell your red puffy face that you tried to hide by looking down .
His demeanor immediately dropped, all amusement vanished from his face as worry came over it .
"what happened!?" He asked , like as if seeing you cry made him want to cry too . You couldn't even look at Jake after what Anna said. She was right , but she didn't have to hit you with realisation like that .
"What's wrong?" Jake cooed, pulling you into him as he wrapped his arms around you . the sadness dripping from his voice made you want break down even more .
"I wanna go home" you broke away from before he barely hugged you . You wiped your nose hard and avoided eye contact.
"okay" he spoke, you could hear that he was hurt . He tucked your hair behind your ear to get a better took at your face .
"let's go" he held your wrist and began to walk but you pulled your hand out of his grip and he looked at you confused and hurt.
"no I'll go on my own" you say.
"are you crazy? And leave me alone with Anna? Why can't I take you ? What's going on with you?" Jake shot at you .
"I- i- I just- don't feel good" you lied , a heavy breath leaving you .
"y|n tell me what happened right now or I swear to god-!" Jake spoke , not buying your lies , pointing his finger at you as he spoke but he was interrupted.
"jakeyy" Anna whined as she came in through the back door.
"not now Anna I'm going to take y|n home" Jake immediately cut her off as he reached to grab your wrist again in attempt to drag you out of there and escape from her .
"is she so incapable of leaving herself or is she just pretending so she gets your attention?" Anna spoke , you could tell she was slightly tipsy .
"excuse me!?" Jake stopped in his tracks and glared at her .
"Jake-" you call, trying to tell him not to get worked up .
"I don't think you have the right to talk about her like that" Jake warned her .
"why are you always defending her!? Are you fucking her or what !?" She yells.
"That's none of your business! she's my best friend and she's better than you'll even be you senseless bitch!" Jake yells back and your jaw drops at his aggressive tone and words.
"why are you even here in the first place!? No one even invited you! Anyone here would defend y|n because they know her and they know she's amazing and isn't a dick hungry snob like you!" Jake bellowed.
"yeah I bet she fucks them all too! like the slut she so explicitly is!" Anna screamed as her eyes went teary .
"Jake!" You grabbed his arms as he strides across the room to her , almost like he was going to hit her .
"woah woah woah! What is going on in here!?" Sam rushed in from the backdoor, with Josh pushing behind him after hearing the yelling.
"get this bitch out of your party josh. I never wanna see her with any of us again . And me and y|n are going home" Jake spoke before grabbing your wrist again and pulling you right out of the house without looking back .
"you let that bitch get to you, didn't you?" Jake spoke as soon as the two of you got into the car .
"what bullshit did she tell you that you huh!?" Jake yelled at you . Speaking to you in the same way he spoke to Anna.
"Jake just take me home" you say , your voice shaky from holding back your tears. He realised he was yelling at you and his anger dropped .
He does as you ask without saying another word, starting the car and driving straight home , you could feel his worried eyes glancing over at you every 10 second on the ride.
He pulled up at your house and you immediately got out , Jake running after you into your home .
"y|n I'm sorry I yelled at you" Jake spoke as you slipped your shoes off . He sounded so worried like he could almost cry.
"Jake" you say, turning to him but looking at his feet .
"thank your for dropping me home. but I think you should go" you say , trying so hard not to cry . Because you knew if you started to cry Jake would never leave your side and stay with you the whole night . But you needed space from him even though you wanted nothing but to cry in his arms .
"what-" Jake was speechless. You'd never asked Jake to leave . Ever . And you never spoke to him so formally . It was like you'd built up a wall between the two of you .
He stood there , wondering if you were so upset because of Anna or because he yelled at you . The fact that you seemed to have a problem with him made him consider the latter .
"please-" your voice cracks and Jake's heart pangs at the feeling of you pushing him away . Jake knew when you needed space . But it was never space from him that you needed.
"y|n- i- I'm s-" Jake tried to speak , you could hear he was tearing up .
"Jake please" You force in frustration. You wouldn't be able to bare to see him cry , not because of you for sure .
He stayed silent for a few moments , trying to find the strength in him to agree to you . He knew something was very wrong . But if you didn't want him around what could he do?
"okay" he forced , his voice a weak strain.
You take a deep breath to prepare yourself for him to turn and walk out the door.
"I'm sorry" he said again , thinking somehow it was something he'd done.
You didn't have the strength to speak and explain to him and just watched him leave instead, before closing the door behind him .
Finally let out the sobs you'd been holding up.
You crawled into your bed and hugged your pillow to your chest as your clenched in pain. You could smell remnants of Jake's scent from previous times he'd slept in your bed , it helped lull you to sleep .
Jake went home anxious , wondering what upset you and when you were going to call him and ask him to come over and just cuddle you to sleep. But you never did . He stayed up all night tossing and turning in bed , clutching his phone in his fist in case you called .
As soon as dawn broke, Jake was out of bed. He couldn't take it anymore. The thoughts were consuming him and he couldn't handle the thought of you pushing him away .
So he headed over to your house with chocolates and a whole bunch of other stuff .
You knew it was Jake when you heard your doorbell. He usually never rings the doorbell, he was always welcome and just walked in whenever he wanted . He knew the passcode.
But you didn't want to wake up and open the door for him . You hoped he'd just go away if you didn't open the door.
You fell back to sleep after a few long minutes of silence . Until you were woken up by a strong arm wrapping around your waist before you felt someone cuddle into you from behind, spooning you . You were half asleep until you realised it was Jake .
"hey princess" you heard him speak right by your ear , his voice so soothing it almost lulled you right back to sleep .
But the recollection of everything Anna said to you last night played in your head . You lifted his arm off you and sat up .
"I wanted to cuddle" Jake says , you could tell he had that half pout on his face .
"get yourself a girlfriend then" you say , it came out more ruder than you intended.
"what the fuck is your problem?" Jake sits up with you , to look at you . The tone of his voice was harsh like how he'd yelled at Anna last night.
"I'm sorry-" your voice cracks before you take in a shaky breath, trying your best not to just burst out and cry in his arms.
He grabbed your arm and pulled you back to lay down with him , he immediately spooned you and held you tight so you couldn't escape.
"tell me what's wrong" he spoke sternly, as if he was warning you .
You closed your eyes tight and just embraced the feeling of his arms around you.
"Anna" you spoke. You knew if you spoke any more you'd start crying.
"what did she tell you babe" jake presses , caressing your shoulder as if he was rewarding you for opening up or coaxing you to talk to him.
"that-" you didn't expect the sob you let out once to tried to speak. You'd been holding it in too long and you just needed him to comfort you while you cry in his arms.
Jake hugged you tighter , his hand caressed your hair . You turned on your other side to face him, burying yourself into his chest as you cried softly , your fist gripping his tshirt on his sides.
Jake's heart tightened , his arm holding you tight with his lips pressed against your forehead , gently caressing your hair.
"am I in your way?" You ask after a few minutes of crying, your voice muffled into his chest .
"what do you mean?" Jake asks .
"you know... Am I reason your relationships never work out?" You elaborate.
"Anna said you were in her way?" Jake asks . Indirectly avoiding the question.
"y|n if you were in my way I would be with her right now and not you . She was the one in our way" he spoke , squeezing you .
"But why didn't you want to be with her. She's pretty" you ask , still speaking into his chest.
"You know how she is . I don't like her" Jake answered.
"Why not ?" You ask and he doesn't answer, he was thinking of a response.
"Do you like me? " You ask softly into his clothes chest . The question raised a silence in the room . A sudden tension. You lifted your face out of his chest to look at him with your red puffy eyes .
"I love you" Jake spoke in a soft whisper , his hand slipping up your arm to cup your cheek , tucking your hair behind your ear.
Jake told you he loved you on a daily basis and so did you. But the look he had on his face when he said it this time made it seem different. You didn't know what he meant.
You just stared at him , waiting for him to confirm he meant it as a friend. But his eyes were panicky and nervous.
his thumb caressed your cheek bone to distract you as he leaned down and pressed his lips against your forehead in a gentle peck before pulling you back into his chest , hugging you tight as he if wanted to hide from you .
"please let don't get mad at me for wishing we were more than friends" he confessed , you wanted to scream at him but you decided to just listen , breathing in his scent from his chest .
"I know you said that you were grateful that I was never those guys that secretly wanted to fuck . And I'm not-!" He continued.
"I just can't find you in any girl and I don't want any other girl if it's not you" he says.
"Sure they're pretty and hot . But I don't click with them like how I do with you . And you're so beautiful as a bonus. I think I actually might be in love with you. Like- LOVE love y'know?" Jake confesses .
"I don't want you to think I just was only your friend because I wanted your body. And I don't want to lose you as a friend because you're everything to me. And I can't see myself with anyone but you" Jake says as your tears sleep into his tshirt.
"so yeah I guess- I guess you are the reason my relationships don't work" he concludes, releasing his arms around you slightly.
"I'm sorry" he apologizes when he realises he's probably upset you .
"have you thought about it though?" You ask , breaking the silence. Suprisingly you weren't mad at him .
"thought about what?" He asks , confused.
"fucking me" you state as you break away from his chest again to look at his face . He seemed to be cringing at your harsh statement.
"never" he said. "Some nights I dream of making love to you though" he confesses softly.
"I just want to be with you y|n. You have all of my love" he says , looking straight into your teary eyes .
"show me" you blurt. You were overwhelmed and overflowing with feelings . But you meant what you said . Jake's eyes widened in shock , a sudden nervousness overcame him.
"what-?" He whispered, almost like a gasp .
"Show me how you'd love me" you rephrase .
You wanted to know what Jake felt like. And you wanted to know how much he felt . You wanted to know how much he cared. You wouldn't hate it.
The two of you were already pretty much soulmates and you didn't want hormones to ruin it. But if Jake meant what he said , you might be looking at it the wrong way. Maybe y'all were meant for eachother more than just friends.
"a-are you sure-?" He was panicking. You could tell by his eyes and the way his body was now tense .
"It's not like we can go back to being friends now anyway. So show me how you feel" you say and Jake realised you were right .
You watched his eyes nervously look down at your lips . You knew he was debating and overthinking whether to kiss you or not.
Suddenly you see a confidence force through him . Like he'd mentally told his nerves to calm the fuck down and grow a pair because this was the only chance he'd get to show you how he felt.
He leaned to your face slowly "can I?" He asks , his lips barely an inch from yours. You nod in response, you were equally nervous.
"words y|n" he says.
"yes" you speak as his lips fell into yours in an ecliptic sync . Like he was sculptured and made for you down to the atomic level . His lips felt like a jolt of electricity through your body . Completely out of this world . Is this was a kiss was supposed to feel like ?
You'd never had a kiss so powerful, carrying so much energy. But at the same time so gently and so absolutely overflowing with compassion.
"jake-" you gasp for air as you break away from the kiss . He seemed to have forgotten he needed to breath as he finally gasped for air too .
"do you want me to stop?" He asks , worried . He was the brightest shade of red , his eyes were blown with love .
"no-!" You immediately say, moving your hand to cup his cheek. "Don't" you say , more like a plea .
Jake had only kissed you and it felt like you were already descending into the most deepest level of eachothers souls.
He moved you to lie on your back as he hovered over you , collecting you lips in his as he deepened the kiss ever so gently.
Your eyebrows pinched together when you felt his tongue against your lip , your mouth immediately opened to let him in . The act had never felt so intimate and spiritual. The way his tongue gracefully caressed over yours , like all he wanted was to truely be as close as he could to you .
Jake was breathing hard into the kiss . You placed your hands to his chest as he continued to kiss you. You could feel his heart rapidly thumping inside him.
He parted from your lips to breathe again , sparing himself a couple of deep breaths before he began planting soft kisses on your face . From your chin , all the up your jaw to your ear , and the your cheekbone and forehead, coming back down to you cheek and the corner of your mouth . Each kiss was like he dreaded to pull away but was so eager to kiss you somewhere else each time . Like he wanted toe savour every inch of you .
His hands were cupping your face while he lay on top of you , propped on his elbows. He pecks you back down to your jaw before moving to your neck . You stretched your neck out for him and he took that as confirmation to continue.
Your eyes rolled back when you felt his soft electric lips leaving deep kisses at a spot under your jaw before moving behind your ear , you groaned in pleasure and he hummed against your skin in response, never stopping his movements.
He kissed you down to your collarbone and then moved to the other side of your neck . You groaned again when he sucked on your other collarbone, he hummed again , pleased that he'd discovered two of your sweet spots so fast .
He kissed you down to your chest , kissing between your clothed breasts and you felt a heat rise in you . The way he looked up at your approval for each thing he did .
You say up the bed slightly and grabbed the end of your t-shirt to lift it over you head , Jake moved back as he stared at you sheepishly and slightly surprised.
But he helped you get the t-shirt over your arms and tossed it away before leaning back down and kissing you between your tits gently as you lay back on the bed , propping yourself on your arms so you could watch him .
His hands slowly caressed up your smaller frame , stopping right under your tits , your chest rised , pressing into his touch , wanting him to touch you.
"should I?" He asked with pleading eyes as he pecked you next to your nipple.
"yes please" you breathe. You didn't realise how you body had become so desperate for him . You wanted him all over and everywhere. You wanted him to take care of you and take care of himself with you.
He slid his hands behind you , holding you up gently as he leaned down to you . You whine and let yourself fall flat on the bed , burying his hands under you.
Your hands moved to his long brown locks as he kissed your nipple . You could feel your core buzzing.
He used his tongue to gently swipe across your hardened bud before clasping his lips around it and sucking on it gently.
"fuck-" you arched into his face , pulling on his hair as you struggled to keep your eyes open . Even tho this was the first time doing this with Jake , it felt like the two of you already knew what eachother needed .
He hummed on your nipple as he sucked on it , nibbling slightly with his teeth , his other hand slipped out from under you and cupped your neglected boob , gently thumbing the nipple. His touch was so gently but so powerful. He treated you like the most delicate thing that needed outmost attention.
You were squeezing your legs together under him , feeling the wetness pooling between them . You wondered if he was hard , because you couldn't feel him and he wasn't even pressing himself against you .
You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him into you. Jake gasped around your tit from the sudden relief and you gasped at the feeling of him thick and hard under his pants , pressed against your thigh.
He kitty licked your nipple before moving over to your other boob , giving it the same treatment as you heaved under him.
Your heat began throbbing, aching for his touch and nothing else . You were all his and he was yours and you wanted nothing more.
"no-" he hissed, his hand gripped your hip down against the bed when he felt you grinding up against him.
"not yet. I wanna taste you" he says , his eyes pleading you again . And you couldn't help but let out a soft moan at the thought of his mouth down there .
"can I?" He asks , even though you already seemed pretty desperate for it.
"yes Jake" you breathe, your eyebrows were pinched together desperately , your hand still gently tucked into his scalp .
He moved lower , going between your legs as you spread them wide for him . His hands scooped your ass up as he made himself comfortable between your legs , your hands traveled down with him , still in his hair .
You could feel his hot breath against your shorts , and you arched slightly. Jake looked up at you as he gently pressed his lips between your legs and you threw your head back . You heat throbbed and you were pretty sure Jake could feel it through your shorts and panties . He could probably feel how wet you were too.
He moaned as he burried his face between your legs , leaving open mouthes kisses on your clothed core , letting his drool create a dark wet patch.
You slipped your hand out of his hair and hooked your thumbs under your waist band. He opened his eyes to look up at you desperately pulling your shorts and panties down.
He moved back as you closed your thighs together to pull your clothes down to your knees . Jake sheepishly helped you and gently slid then down to your ankles and off your feet before ridding them.
His eyes dropped between your legs as you spread them wide for him. "Y|n-" his breath hitched as his cock strained in his jeans at the sight of your glistening swollen pussy.
He sat on his knees , completely smitten at the sight of you . He placed his palm on your knee as he lifted your leg up , standing himself on his knees in the bed as he placed a kiss right above your ankle.
A shaky breath left your mouth. The way he worshipped you made you want to cry out to him. You watched him as you lay propped on your elbows while he kissed you down your calf , his hand caressing up your leg along with his kisses .
He slowly lay on his belly as he started to kiss your inner thigh up your knee . You were in cloud 9 already, erupting with butterflies. Your cheeks were so hot you could barely keep your eyes open .
He slowly lowered back down between your legs on his stomach, swiping his tongue over his lips as he looked at up you innocently for consent.
"don't stop" you breathe. You loved how his sun tanned skin was glazed in sweat and glistening pink already. His lips already dark rosy pink from kissing you all over . Not to mention his brown love blown eyes that had a hint of nervousness to them . His hair , now a mess after you pulled on it still looked so impeccably stunning as it fell to his shoulders , framing his beautifully sculpted face gracefully.
He hesitantly looked back down between your legs , leaning into your folds that were oozing with your arousal. His eyes rolled back before closing in bliss , letting out a moan of relief into your clit , you whined at the sight of him.
"fuck- oh my god!" You cry out on bliss , gripping the sheets and throwing your head back as you managed to keep yourself propped on your elbows just so you could look at him.
He stuck his tongue out and bobbed his head into your folds at a medium pace , his nose making the sensation heightened, making your whole body bounce up on the bed at the movements.
You looked down between your legs , finding Jake with his eyes flickered up at you, his eyelashes more evident that ever , his cheeks sucked in and his mouth clasped into your folds , his hand holding your thighs apart.
It was embarrassing how you were already tipping over the edge . The sight of him made you want to cry out and savour the moment forever.
"Jake- I'm com- I'm clo-" you whimpered , struggling to keep yourself grounded as you stomach and legs spasmed .
He hummed into your folds, the sensation was like light a match in a gaslit room . Your legs snapped closed around his head and you wailed , clawing into the sheets as you came , Jake continued moving his tongue swiftly on your folds till you had to literally push him away from overstimulation.
You panted heavily, now covered in sweat as you looked down at him , his mouth , chin and nose covered in your juices.
"you're so beautiful y|n" Jake said like he'd been holding it up the whole time he was burried between your legs.
"no Jake. You are" you shake your head from side to side , your eyebrows pinched together , refusing to relax .
"shut up" a smile cracked out of his pretty pink glistening lips.
"I need more" you pant. Your whole body begging for him .
"of course baby" Jake's smile disappeared as he crawled back up to your face. "I'm going to love you so hard" he says , giving you a peck "show you how much I love you" he turns to peck your cheek "just like you asked" he pecked your other cheek , leaving you craving for his lips on yours again .
"yes please" you whine , watching him move back to pull his tshirt over his head . Your eyes widened at the sight of him .
You'd seen Jake shirtless gazillion times. But not like this , all fucked out , sweaty and pink.
He leans back down and kissed your lips after he throws away his t-shirt, sensing your desperation to kiss him . You could taste yourself on his lips .
"all for you" he mumbled against your lips as you hold his face , never wanting him to part from your lips .
"Jake I need you" you pants between the kiss , holding onto him for dear life .
But he must part from you in order to take his pants off so he can give you what you asked him for .
You watched with your body burning with white hot desire. It was like the devil had come over you . You never wanted anybody this badly.
When he finally ridded off his pants, he came back to you as you immediately pulled him into your lips , kissing him like you were scared it would be the last time.
"calm down love I've got you" Jake soothed , breaking the kiss to breathe, noticing your firey desperation would never let him go.
"please jake-" you say as you watch him move away. He hands held the back of your calves and wrapped your legs around him before he leaned back in to kiss you , making his raw cock plunge into your folds .
You wailed and gripped onto his shoulders before looking down between the two of you at his girth, hard and leaking with precum .
You were shaking in anticipation, possessed by the desired to have him stroke your walls to your release. Him and only him.
His hips pulled back as his hand slipped between the two of you , lining himself to your clenching hole , looking up at you before slowly pushing his hips into you , he watches you wail as your face contorts from outmost pleasure, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as his eyes roll back at the feeling of your walls sucking him in .
His hands found yours , intertwining your fingers together tightly as he began slowly thrusting into you , deep and hard .
You could hardly keep yourself together , wailing out his name and other profanities as you squeezed his hands , your eyes struggling to keep open as each thrust made you arch off the bed into his chest , Jake was not less of a state .
He had his face buried into your neck , moaning out loud right by your ear as the two of you made love , transmitting into alternate dimensions of ethereal nothingness.
Nothing else in the world mattered in that moment and all you would think of was Jake. The act so sinful and dirty with anyone else felt so spiritual and heavenly with Jake .
"Jake-" you speak clearly and he stops immediately, lifting up to look at you.
"this isn't normal- i-" you shake your head , tears brimming you eyes .
"what's wrong?" Jake asked in worry , his eyes rapidly scanning your face .
"it feels different- I- it's not-" you muttered, your core tightening with a ache you never thought you could fathom.
Jake lifted his upper body on his palms over you and pulled out of you in worry. "No-!" You scream ,and try to push him back into you by your legs wrapped around him but he kept himself apart, his elbows stiff, holding himself away from you , his tip barely grazed into your entrance.
And a sudden shock of hot cold pleasure runs through you , desperation you would've died from . You felt your ability to breathe had been taken away from you .
You came hard on his tip , gushing out as you spasm and claw at his back , you wailed and Jake gasped , his jaw slack at the feeling of your liquids gushing out on his tip , almost cumming at the feeling of it himself .
"fuck" Jake whimpered in utter shock from the sight as you came down from your high , gasping for air desperately , tears spilling down the sides of your face . He looked down at the mess you'd made , the bed soaking. And his cock dripping in your release.
"oh my god- I don't even- I didn't even-" you try to speak but Jake cuts you off with a powerful thrust , bottoming you out completely, making you crack out a loud moan .
"one more for me hmm?" He pleaded , though his hips were already ramming deep and slow into you , intertwining your hands witch his again , pinning them on the bed .
"please you looked so pretty. I need to see it again" he begged , pecking your tears away lovingly.
You couldn't answer him . You were thrown into overstimulation and you'd become completely unaware of your surroundings. Your eyes rolled back into your head and all you could hear was Jake's moans .
You started to come back from your overthrow of emotions as the band in your stomach tightened again . You clenched hard on him , making his face contort as he moaned your name over and over .
You could feel his cock throbbing inside you as you came closer to your relief . You throw your head back as Jake buried his face into your neck again , his hands still intertwined with yours .
His lower half trembled and he whined out as he came into you , you felt his release coat your walls , causing you to cum again . Gushing out on his cock and washing out his seed from inside you .
"holy-" Jake pulled out of you with a whimper "fuck-" he breathed falling on top of you , his limbs were limp .
You unlaced your fingers from his and combed your hand into his hair , petting him gently as he nuzzled into your neck , snuggling into your body as the two of you tried to catch your breaths .
Jake groaned under his breath as he rolled off you , lying next to you and immediately pulling you into him and wrapping his leg over you .
"Jake I love you too" you confess. You couldn't deny it. Jake's tired face managed to contort into a wide gummy smile .
"thank god! If you didn't even after THAT , I would've cried and killed myself for sure" Jake spoke .
"shut up!" You scold with a frown. Jake crashed his lips in to yours , smiling into the kiss , his hand caressing your back as he held you close with his other arm.
"and whatever that bitch Anna said to you , I want you to forget it. Because I'm with you right now and not her because she'll never be you . And all I want is you" Jake spoke , his face serious again. You smiled tiredly and nodded.
Jake smiled back and kissed the dried tears in your face , snuggling you tightly against him , petting your hair and back.
241 notes · View notes
vanfleeter · 6 months
Text
His Turn // JTK
Tumblr media
Characters: Jake x Fem!reader Warnings: Angst. Language. Being ghosted and ignored. Fluff. Smut. Making out. Fingering. Breeding kink. Penetrative sex (p in v). Protected sex. Oral sex (fem receiving). I ask that you tell me if I missed anything, because I probably did. Author's Note: I honestly cannot tell you what created this idea.
Summary: After pining after you for years but only being a shoulder to cry on and an ear to vent in, he decides to step away and give his heart a break until one fateful night at a wedding that brings him back where he truly belongs.
Song to listen to: Just Friends - Jonas Brothers
Tumblr media
Every boyfriend. Every heartbreak. Every date. Every time you got stood up. Every phone call. Every text that made you smile. He was there for it all. Supporting you and comforting you. Faking a smile every time.
He pined after you. Wishing that the next text that made you smile was from him. That the next date you went on was him taking you out and not some snobby asshole who thinks he’s a man but really he’s just another fuck boy wanting to get inside your pants and just another guy who will eventually break your heart.
Honestly, this was getting very tiring for him. Constantly wiping your tears, holding you while you wept against his chest. The late night phone calls where he wouldn’t speak a word, but instead listen to you and let you vent. He was starting to not care because he was getting tired of it.
So he stopped. He stopped caring. He stopped answering your phone calls and stopped responding to your texts that contained your hurt and your anger. He. Just. Stopped.
He won’t ever be good enough for you, because to him–he feels more like a therapist than a friend. A friend who is falling down the deepest well of love for you that he’s willing to just give it up.
Because when will it be him? When will you finally realize that the right one for you has been right there this whole time? And yet, you always choose the wrong one.
“She’s going to be there tonight, you know..” Josh says as he helps straighten out Jake’s bowtie. Jake grumbles about having to wear a bow tie and not being able to have his shirt unbuttoned the way he likes it. “Oh hush, you’ll survive. Just wear it through the ceremony and then I’m sure you’ll be allowed to undo it once pictures are finished.”
A friend’s wedding that they were asked to be groomsmen in. And you, a bridesmaid. He was nervous about seeing you again…since keeping his distance. He wondered how many wrong dates you’ve been on since he’d limited his time with you.
“Do I have to talk to her?”
“You don’t have to,” Josh says. He finishes with Jake’s tie before turning to face the mirror and work on his own. “You won’t even have to utter a single syllable as you walk with her down the aisle.”
“Of course, that..”
He was paired with you to exit the ceremony with and to enter the reception with. He couldn’t make it to the rehearsal so he hasn’t seen you yet. Or spoken to you.
“Can you walk with her instead?”
Josh scoffs. “And piss off the bride? Ha! Not happening brother.” He turns to face Jake once more, giving his twin a once over to make sure he was his best. “Good, let’s head out. We can’t be late.”
The wedding went smoothly. The walk down the aisle, however, was awkward. Painfully awkward. The tension was obvious but the both of you faked it the best you could. He never spoke to you, keeping true to what Josh suggested he do. You were hoping he’d complete you on how you look. Especially the dress. He said you always looked beautiful in green. Something about the way the color brought out your eyes and complimented your skin tone. But not a word was spoken, hardly even a glance. He kept his eyes focused in front of him as the two of you exited the hall. He let go of your arm as soon as you stepped through the threshold.
Photos were even more agonizing. Not once did he look your way. He either focused his attention on Josh or kept a conversation with the other groomsmen. You only caught him looking at you once the whole day, when you walked down the aisle. A quick look and then his eyes diverted back to the floor or somewhere else in the room. Anywhere then having to look at you.
Finally it was starting to get to you. All night you’ve been ignored and you weren’t going to take it any longer. Standing up from your chair, you maneuver through people while making your way up the bar where Jake stands with Josh. They’re chit chatting about upcoming projects when Josh spots you and immediately stops talking. He gives you a wide smile and patted your arm before eyeing Jake and walking away.
“Hey, can we talk?” You say. “Preferably somewhere where we can hear each other clearly?”
Jake’s eyes frantically search the room in hopes of finding an excuse to say no. But alas, he cannot. Sighing and giving in, he nods his head and motions towards the side doors that lead out to the back patio. Much to your gratitude, it’s void of any living soul.
“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, leaning against the wooden railing and taking a drink of his whiskey.
“What the heck has been going on lately?” You say. “We haven’t spoken hardly at all for months now and maybe I’m just slow at figuring shit out but I have this feeling that I did something..” Jake remains silent and takes another drink. “Jake, if I did something, then please tell me so I can apologize and fix it.”
“There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” He says. “What’s done is done.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You.. And me.” He takes another drink.
“So what.. We aren’t friends anymore?”
Again he remains silent.
“Jacob, wh-why can’t we be friends?”
He simply shakes his head and down the rest of his drink before pushing off the railing and walking towards the door. You grab his hand, preventing him from going any further. A strike of lightning lights up the night sky followed by a low rumble of thunder.
“Jake.. Talk to me.” You plead. “Why can we be friends anymore? What did I do?”
“I can’t talk about this..”
“Jake.. Come on, it’s me. You know you can talk to me.”
He shakes his head and pulls his hand away. “I can’t talk to you about this because it’s too hard to.”
“What do you mean? Why is it hard?”
“Because you..” He starts, but he sighs and runs a hand down his face. His back still faces you. “Because I… I’m so fucking in love with you and you haven’t even noticed it..”
His words stun you.
“You’re in love with me?”
He scoffs and rubs the back of his neck. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does, Jake.” You turn him around but just like all day, his eyes are everywhere but on you. “Why haven’t you ever told me?”
“When could I?” He says, his eyes finally meeting yours. You can see the hurt clouding his eyes as they flicker between yours. “Between all of the guys you were with and the many dates? Believe me when I say this, I wanted to tell you so fucking bad.. But whenever I tried, it always failed because when I finally got up the courage to tell you, I was met with tears or anger because of some asshole. But like I said, it doesn’t matter… Not anymore.” And with that he turns back around and heads inside the building to the party as if nothing happened.
To say you felt stupid was an understatement. This whole time, that man, your now former best friend, had been in love with you and you were so blind to notice. How could you have not seen it?
Your feet had yet to move, your body longing to run in there after him but nothing was happening. You watched him through the window pane as he moved through the crowded room, weaving his way towards the bar to get another drink. The door opens, pulling you out of your trance and you turn towards them as two happy and drunk people spilled out onto the patio. You give them a fake smile as they greet you and stumble past you and to the furniture that lies past you.
Another roll of thunder sounds above you and suddenly the downpour falls over you, soaking through your dress and weighing your hair down. The drunken couple quickly scurry inside leaving you outside alone and wet. The door opens again and Jake stands there and crosses his arms over his chest. “Get inside.”
“You still care?”
He rolls his eyes. “Always had a thing for theatrics.” He says. “Get inside before you get sick.” The wind blows a little, causing droplets of rain to hit his suit and hair. It slowly begins to grow damp as he stands there waiting for you. “Y/N, now.”
“Or what? You’ll leave me again? Ghost me?” You scoff. “You’re good at that.”
His jaw tightens. “I had every right to walk away. It was either get my heart ripped out of my chest every single time you had a new guy or save myself the heartache and walk away.” He had stepped out a little further, allowing the rain to really soak through his suit and soak his hair. “Now get the fuck inside.”
“No..”
“Y/N, why do you have to be like this?! Get the fuck inside or so help me god, I will carry you inside myself.”
“I. Fucking. Dare. You.”
He allows the door to close as he strides across the patio until he is face-to-face with you. With the heels you wear, you’re just about eye level with him. “Just because I gave up pining over you, doesn’t mean that I still don’t care.”
“Then why did you leave me?” You say. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that you loved me? It would have saved me a lot of embarrassment on cringey dates.”
His eyes close and he heaves a sigh. “I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same..”
“Oh fuck, Jake.” You groan. “I do feel the same way!”
His eyes open again. “What?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to say something.” You say as you lightly push his shoulder. “That’s why I always called you before I left for those shitty dates because I was stalling, hoping you would tell me not to go–but you never did. You would only say that I look beautiful and to have fun and to be safe–but never once did you tell me not to go.”
“You know I don’t like making you mad..” He says. Rain slides down his face, droplets falling from the tip of his nose. “And I thought going on those dates did make you happy, you always seemed excited for them, why would I want to ruin them?”
“Because you love me!” You shout, stomping your foot. “You’re supposed to stop me! Had you done that a long time ago we wouldn’t be out here soaking wet from the rain!”
“Technically we wouldn’t be out here if you stopped being stubborn..”
You go to raise your hand to slap him but he catches your wrist in his grasp, his eyes piercing straight into yours. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
“The only regret I have is ever meeting you..” You yank your hand away and storm around him.
“You don’t mean that.”
“You don’t know what I do and do not mean, Jacob.”
You start to head back towards the doors of the building when he grabs your hand and pulls you back. His lips crash onto yours and he pulls you in close by your waist. The rain still pelts down on you both as your lips move in sync. He pushes his tongue against your teeth and you happily welcome it inside. He eventually pulls away after a few minutes to catch his breath. His chest heaves against you as he inhales deeply.
“Fuck..” He sighs.
“We should probably get out of the rain.” You say as you tug gently on the open jacket of his suit. He fishes into his pocket and pulls out his car keys before pushing them into your hand.
“Get in. I’ll get our things.”
“Won’t we get yelled at for leaving early?”
Jake chuckles and leans down to kiss you. “I’ll handle it–you go get in my car.”
Taking his keys, you slowly pull away, allowing your hand to linger a little longer on his exposed chest.
Shortly after getting into Jake’s car, he’s jumping into the driver’s seat and shoving the key into the ignition. He slides his hand over to your thigh and gives it a light squeeze. “Can I take you home?” He asks as he leans across the center console, his lips brushing lightly over yours making you want to chase after him.
“Please…”  He smiles against your lips before pulling away and throws the car in drive.
“This dress is really making me itchy..” You complain as you and Jake step through the front door of his house.
He chuckles and steps up behind you after closing the front door. He slides one of the straps of your dress down your shoulder before following after it with the other one. “Then allow me to remove it.” He says, his voice soft yet raspy from the whiskey he consumed and his warm breath cascading down your neck like warm, melted butter. “May I?”
“Yes…” You say, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You feel his hands slide down your sides and rest on your hips. He brings them slowly up your spine and drags the zipper back down and allows your dress to slide down your body and pile around your feet on the floor.
“I have to admit, I loved seeing you in this dress but seeing you out of it?” He traces his fingers along the expanse of your torso and up through the valley of your breasts. “So beautiful… And not wearing a bra.. So risky..” He cups his hands over your breasts and gives them a light squeeze, twisting your nipples between his fingers eliciting a moan from you. “I’ve always wondered how you felt…”
“Jake..” You moan, reaching behind you and digging your fingers into his wet and wavy locks. “Take me to bed..”
He hums, smiling against your neck. “As you wish..” He turns you around and lifts you up onto his waist and carries you upstairs. Stepping into his bedroom, he kicks the door shut behind him and lays you down on the bed. He straightens back up and starts to undress.
It isn’t long before he’s naked in front of you, his cock already rock solid. He climbs back onto the bed and nudges your legs apart. His tongue darts out between his lips as his eyes wander your body before stopping on your soaked underwear. He leans over you, his hands sliding up your body before he rests himself on them on either side of your head.
“Tell me you want it…” He presses his lips to your jawline.
“I want it…”
“Want what?”
“Jake..” You whine as you press your hips into him. He reaches one of his hands down between your bodies and presses his palm to your clothed center.
He growls in your ear. “So… Wet.. And that's all for me..” He leans backwards and hooks his fingers through the waistband of your underwear and pulls them off before tossing them somewhere in the room. “I want to play with you.. And taste you.. I’ve been dreaming of it but dammit baby, I really need to feel you all wrapped around me..”
You roughly pull him down on top of you, kissing him as you roll your hips against his. “Then what are you waiting for?” He gives you a quick peck before pushing away and climbing off the bed. He goes over to the nightstand and pulls open the drawer to retrieve the little foil pack. He dangles it in the air as he gives you a smug look.
“Have I dreamt of fathering your kids? Yes, a thousand fucking times.. But having that happen right now? I’m not ready.”
You giggle and prop yourself up on your elbows as you watch him walk back over to the front of the bed. He slides the condom over his length and crawls across the bed towards you and rests himself between your legs.
“Do you really want to do this?” You nod your head. He shakes his head and tilts your chin upwards with the knuckle of his index finger. “I need to hear that one word spill from that pretty mouth of yours.”
“Yes.. Jake, yes.”
He leans down to kiss you before reaching down to line up his cock with your entrance. He teases it a little before slowly pushing himself inside of you. Your moans and his mix within the air of the room as he pushes further inside of you and allows you time to adjust to him. The feeling of him stretching you out feels so pleasant.
“I’m going to start moving..” He heads a warning before he pulls back out for a couple seconds before pushing back inside. “Your perfect little pussy.. All warm and handling me so well..” He gives a few more slow thrusts into you before he starts to pick up a little speed and starts to pound into you.
Your breasts bounce as he thrusts into you, the sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room. His heavy breathing fills your ears as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. His hands grasp your hips and he leans back making it easier for him to thrust even deeper and hitting spots where no other man ever has.
“Oh.. I did something..” He says. He does yet again and smirks when he realizes exactly what it is. “You sound so pretty when you make those sounds.”
“Jake.. I’m so close..”
“Yeah?” He brings a single digit to your clit and rubs it harshly yet it feels so good. Your back arches slightly off the bed and you grip the sheets within your white knuckled fists. Your eyes squeeze shut as the knot in your core tightens, threatening to snap at any given second and you would allow it. He hold you tightly as he fucks you through your orgasm, praising and encouraging you. He cums shortly after you, filling the rubbed wrapped around his cock.
Calming down for your highs, he carefully slips out of you and climbs off the bed to discard the soiled condom into the trash bin in the bathroom. He comes back out with a dampened wash cloth to gently clean you up. Going over to his dresser, he pulls out a pair of boxers and slips them on before grabbing another pair for you and a shirt. He comes back over to you and helps you slip into the boxers and the shirt.
The two of you eventually entangle yourselves together underneath the blankets and he kisses the crown of your head. His fingers graze lazily up and down your thigh. When you look up at him, he’s already looking down upon you with tired but loving eyes.
You reach up and cup his face in the palm of your hand. He nuzzles his face into it and kisses the edge of your hand.
“Jake… I’m sorry I never noticed..” You say. “I wish I had.. Because I feel like I missed so much..”
He hums and pulls you closer. “You didn’t miss a thing,” He says. “And don’t be sorry.. I shouldn’t have been such a wimp and not just tell you despite my fears..”
“Were you really going to leave me?” You ask.
His eyes fall shut and he nods his head. “But I was also being selfish.. I guess the whole just being your friend was just taunting me and I didn’t want to deal with it anymore..”
“Well consider yourself no longer in the friend zone,” You giggle and shove him over onto his back. “And I’m being truthful,” You say, your voice becoming serious as you hover over him. “I thought of you more than a friend.. I guess I was just afraid you didn't feel the same way. But fuck.. I craved you so badly.. Feeling your hands on my body,” He starts to move his hands from your back and down towards your hips. He gives them a gentle squeeze before sliding back your body and coming to your breasts to hold them again. His eyes never once leave yours. “And trying to imagine how your lips tasted..” He brings his head up and presses his lips to yours.
He sucks you in again, his tongue fighting for dominance as the heat of the moment burns hotter and hotter and igniting the fire in your belly once more. He moves his one hand down your side and around to your front. He dips a finger through your folds making you gasp against his mouth. He slides his finger inside of you, his eyes intently watching every inch of your face, memorizing exactly how it looks as plays with your pussy. You hum out in pleasure and push your body down onto his fingers, hoping to push him further. He allowed it, letting his index and middle finger go so deep until his knuckles were touching your entrance.
He drags his fingers along your walls and curls them. “Oh fuck Jake…”
“Your pretty pussy feels so good..” He says as he pushes his head forward again to kiss you. “It’s like wearing a velvet jacket.. But on my fingers..”
You can help but laugh and he joins. “You’re such a dork.”
“Your dork..” He says. “If you’ll have me.”
“I already do.” You say. “Please go faster.”
“Never thought I’d love to hear you beg.” He says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “But I do..” He flips the two of you back over, not once faltering his movements. He slides down the bed and rests his top half between your legs. “I’ve had dreams about you.. This perfect body, finally mine…” He curls his fingers again, a pleasurable moan escaping you once again. “Mmm, you sound so beautiful.. Say my name..”
“Jake…” Your back arches and you grasp the headboard, your eyes squeezing shut as the coil tightens in your core.
“Say it again..” He says before deepening his face into your folds and licking his tongue upwards in a slow motion.
“J-Jake…” You stutter. “Fuck.. Jake!”
Your hands leave the headboard and grasp tightly to his still damp locks. He hums against your folds, the vibration alone pushing you closer to the edge, your orgasm inching closer and closer as he works his fingers and tongue. He soon feels your walls clenching around his fingers and he squeezes your thigh with his free hand and kneads his fingers into your skin.
Instinctively your hips buck upwards, pushing closer to his face. Your orgasm rips through your body, plunging you into the ether. A different dimension if you will. The only thing keeping you grounded to your body was the feeling of Jake’s hand still kneading his fingers into your thigh as he lapped his tongue through your center and inhaled every drop your body could produce.
As you’re coming down from your high, he pulls away. He’s gasping for breath as he rests his head against your thigh. Noticing how quiet you’ve been since you came back down, he lifts his head to look up at you. Your eyes are laser focused on the ceiling and your chest is rising and falling as you try regulating your breathing.
“Are you okay?”
You respond with a simple nod of your head.
“Are you sure?” He asks. “Because your hands are still gripping my hair rather tightly.”
“Oh..” You let go of his hair and bring your hands to rest on your abdomen. “Sorry..”
He chuckles and pushes himself upwards. He slowly makes his way up the bed and lays beside you again. He pulls you over to him and massages the palms of his hands into your back. “How about a nice, warm bath to soothe your body?” He says, tilting his head slightly to look at you. You shake your head and his hands stop massaging you. “No?”
“Uh uh..”
“Okay.. So then what do you want?”
“Food..”
He snorts and runs his fingers through your hair. “You’re still hungry? I saw you inhaling your dinner during the reception.”
“In my defense,” You say, lifting your head. “I was just fucked as if the world was ending and now my body needs fuel.”
He chuckles and gently pays your ass. “Alright, bottomless pit. Go pee and I’ll start cooking.”
“Mmmm, naked?” You say, wagging your eyebrows.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You nod your head, giving him a cheesy smile. “Only for you,” He says, giving you a peck on the lips. He pulls away from you and climbs off the bed before making his way over to the bedroom door.
“Hey Jake..” You call from the bed.
He stops in the doorway and turns back to face you. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
A shit eating grin falls across his face, his cheeks reddening as he blushes. “I love you too.”
_______________________________
taglist:
@watchingover-hypegirl @losfacedevil @lightmylove-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @thetroublegetssoloud71 @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasmommy @objectsinspvce @gvfmarge @heckingfrick @bluemeadows77 @laneygvf @sacredmachine @jordie-gvf-admin @gvfpal @killerqueengvf @jaketlover @jordinlkiszka @alwaysonthemend @hellowgoodbye @anythingforjtk @hi-hi-hello11 @anthemofgvf @gretasfallingsky @songbirds-sweet @wildbluesorbit @klarxtr @stardustsecret @sunandthemoontwinflames @everyglowinthetwilightknows @sinsofstardust @sparrowofthedawnsworld
If you would like to be added to the tag list, please reach out! ❤️
If I missed you on the list, please remind me!
If your user is not highlighted, I do apologize--tumblr acts like a butt 😫
320 notes · View notes
gretavanlace · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Sugar II (part 8)
Jake Kizska x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: adult content, language, brief illusions to sex, angst, jealousy, etc.
Only two chapters to go and an epilogue, everyone. I’m so grateful that you have taken this little journey with me. Thank you so much for all your kind words, support, and care. You’re all so wonderful ❤️
“Oh my god, Jake,” your eyes are darting around the room like a mouse with a rabid alley cat slinking, famished and cruel, into its path.
Your unease trumps his delighted gloating instantly, “What do you want me to do, sugar? Tell me and I’ll do it.”
When you steal a glance at the window, longing to climb out and disappear, he hops on the train of your thought process right away, “You want me to duck out?”
You know Jake through and through, and staring into his eyes as your heart drums paranoid vibrations into your rib cage, you’re stunned to watch him offer to give up this chance to square off with whom he has come to see as his most bitter rival. That he would do that for you? That all you would have to do is ask and he would crawl out and wander off into the golden afternoon sunshine like an afterthought…
You really do own his whole heart, you realize at the most inopportune of moments. Your grip on his soul is just as tight as his fingers have always clawed down inside yours…fierce and beautiful in their unrelenting grip.
But haven’t you always known? Hasn’t it always been written across his skin? Etched in his gaze? Sculpted into the bow of his lips when he whispers your name? Evident in his touch?
“No,” you shake your head, willing the mess inside of it to go away, rejecting the thought of him leaving. You want him near, you need him near. To let him go right now, even for a second, seems an agonizing punishment that you cannot bear to suffer. No matter the consequences.
“Stay. But please…” you rush over to him, helping him to his feet while stealing glances at the doorway, “Please just behave and follow my lead, okay? Please?”
”Normally, I like it when you use your manners,” he sighs, smoothing out his clothes, as well as a lock of your hair that has fluttered out of place, “But that’s too many pleases and you look petrified. Why?” His voice is suddenly intense yet careful, as is his grip on your arm, “Does he hurt you?”
They idea is entirely laughable, but there’s no time for that, so you brush him off with a swipe of your hand and a flippant, “Don’t be stupid, Jake.”
Without allowing yourself to think it through, you begin ushering him down the hall towards the front room, but what will you find there? Doom or salvation?
How will these pieces fall together? Something solid and heavy in your heart tells you Jake will do as you have asked and play nice, but another facet buried even deeper inside is rocked with anxiety and screaming that it’s only wishful thinking to believe such a fairytale.
”Hey hon,” jovially rings out as he steps in through the garage, “I saw your car! We’re both home early? Looks like the universe knew how much I missed you!”
Jake turns to catch your eye as you shove him along, but you refuse to meet his gaze. You're unsure of what you’ll find there and this isn’t the time for uncertainties.
Would you find sadness threatening to roll hot tears down his cheeks? Anger threatening to boil over in his fiery chocolate irises? Accusation and resentment for what you’re about to subject him to?
Oh god, you can’t do this! Suddenly, and absurdly, you wish you could fade into the gentle, lush, green paint that you had once rolled upon the hallway walls, paying meticulous attention to detail. Build this home, had been the plan…bury him away under paint and sanded cabinets. Art perched on the walls and throw pillows piled on the bed.
You’d love to disappear and leave them perplexed and confused, wondering what became of you. To vanish into nothing like a dust mote blown away upon the lightest, softest breeze.
You’re a coward.
While your thoughts are busy with that, Jake’s are grappling with each other. Tangled up and struggling. He’d very much like to stomp into the front room and shut this man up. With his booming voice calling out how much he’s missed you like he has some claim over you. Like you’re his. Like he doesn’t understand that you could never really be anyone’s because you’re much too good for this whole goddamn world. That you’re precious, like the rarest of stones and anyone who is lucky enough to hold you in their palm should fall on their knees in thanks.
He sounds so fucking common. Does he think you’re common as well? Jake can’t stomach the thought.
So, yes, he’d like to stroll into the room, casual as you please, and announce that he is taking you away from this ridiculous illusion where you play house and pretend to be satisfied. He longs to tell him how he’s made love to you, how he’s fucked you. How you’ve begged for him and swore no one could ever be him. Jake wants to tell him that the ring he put on your finger has been in his mouth, that he spat it out and you didn’t even care. That you hardly even noticed. Jake would almost kill to watch Mr. Wonderful’s face crumple in defeat and loss…
But he loves you far too much, and to say all those things would hurt you, too.
Scar your heart he will not.
He’s shrugging off his suit blazer when you both appear. It’s a mundane action, one that repeats itself nearly every evening, but you stand still and shellshocked, unable to jolt yourself into some semblance of normalcy until Jake subtly nudges you with a ginger elbow.
“Hi,” you begin, a touch too loudly, “Yeah, you’re early! I actually didn’t end up going to work today. Old friend in town. We went to the movies. And then we came here. He wanted to see the house. I…I told him about it. I was just giving him the tour.”
You sound robotic and ridiculous, but he doesn’t appear to notice. Rather, he looks delighted when his eyes land on Jake and recognition settles in.
”Ah, I know you!” He laughs, marching forward with an outstretched hand. “The almost brother in law. Good to finally meet you.”
His grasp on Jake’s hand is strong and sure as he pumps it up and down. The genuine gladness in his gesture makes you want to tear your own hair out in penance.
Or is it the ‘almost brother in law’ moniker that has made you nauseous?
Yes, that’s what you boiled Jacob down to. You had held nothing back about your relationship with Josh…but Jake? You just couldn’t. To speak of him, to share him that way…it had seemed incomprehensible. And how could you ever put it into words, anyway? How could anyone ever understand what he was to you? What he is to you? No, it had seemed best to keep him locked away, silent and safe in your memories. Tucked away in your heart. The boy in the bubble.
Jake’s face is unreadable as he sizes up this opponent before him. This rival who has just unknowingly stepped into the ring. This blissfully unaware adversary. He is a doe who has wandered idly into the path of a dangerously ravenous mountain lion, and he doesn’t even know it. Ignorance really does seem like bliss in this moment, and you long for it.
“Yes, the almost brother in law,” his tone is slightly clipped, but no one, aside from you - and perhaps his brothers - would ever notice. “That’s me. And you are?”
Here we go. He’s going to love this.
They drop hands and a friendly clap lands on Jake’s shoulder. “I’m Jake, too. What are the odds?”
A sharp, satisfied laugh bursts out of Jake, head tipped back, adam’s apple bobbing gleefully, and you long to tell the smug bastard to just shut the hell up, but it’s over quickly enough.
”Yes,” he sighs, with a shake of his head that ends in his eyes blazing holes into your soul, “What are the odds?”
”’Course this one over here calls me by my middle name, James. Says it fits me. No one else does, though, so choice is yours. Man, it’s so great to finally meet you.” He’s prattling on now, never having met a stranger, “You know we’ve got all your work over there in the case. You’re a hell of a guitar player. I tried to learn in high school, mostly to impress girls…never could get it. Anyway…”
Jake is eyeing him like he doesn’t know what to make of this man standing there, cordial and warm, tossing out compliments and bids for conversation.
His eyes are traveling over this unfamiliar being, now so tangible and real, who has had his hands all over you. Who has had his mouth pressed to your precious body, who has whispered against your skin, who has made love to you in the still of the night, and held you, and rested beside you, breathing in tandem. Who has gotten down on one knee and asked you to be his wife.
And you said yes...you said yes.
He wants to hurt him. Both physically and emotionally. He wants to level him. To crush him into nothing. And though this Jake, James, or whatever his name is, isn’t to blame, he wants it all the same. He wishes he could lure him into his palm like a revolting insect and squeeze until he was no more than something vile to be wiped away with a Kleenex.
Instead, he tilts his head in the direction of the vinyls and shrugs off the accolades, “Fuckin’ Zeppelin cover band.”
James laughs uproariously and gestures into the room welcomingly, “Why are we all standing around like this? Have a seat…please. Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink? Water? A beer? Whiskey? I know it’s early, but special occasions call for special circumstances, I always say.”
Eyes on you, he shrugs out a response that would be lost on anybody but you, “I’ll have what you’re having.”
Once you’re alone for a moment, he shakes his head with a gorgeous, if not self-satisfied, smirk sparking to life upon his face. “His name is Jake? Oh, sugar…” he’s laughing softly now, and sinking down into the cushions of the couch, “creature of habit, aren’t you, pretty girl?”
”Shut up!” You hiss, eyes flickering towards the kitchen doorway, “Coincidence. That’s all. Don’t be so fucking full of yourself. Now, please just be nice.”
He quiets down, drawing the back of his forefinger beneath his eye dramatically as if he has laughed himself to tears, “I’m being very nice and you know it. Don’t push it.”
You sit, as far away from him as the couch will allow, but instantly he’s leaned in close. “What do you think he would do if I got down on my knees right here and buried my face in that gorgeous little cunt of yours? Showed him how it’s really done.”
”Jacob!” You barely make a sound as you admonish him with a clipped shove to settle him.
He slinks back into his seat with another laughing shake of his head, “This is perfect.”
”I hate you.” You lie.
”Sure you do, sugar,” he winks, crossing his legs to get comfy, “Sure you do. Almost brother in law, huh? Is that what I’ve been reduced to?”
He’s still chuckling quietly to himself while a strange mix of panic and tears begins to churn around inside of you like a slow moving summer storm. He’s gearing up, you can feel it, and the thought of it all is too much, your metaphorical knees are beginning to shake. This could end so, so badly.
“Later, Jake…” you’re beseeching without shame, pleading with your watery gaze. “We’ll talk about it later. Please just stop.”
His palm cradles your cheek so softly you wonder if anyone has ever touched someone as gently as he touches you, “Settle down, baby. I won’t make trouble for you.”
How laughable that he can’t seem to recognize that you’ve brought this trouble on all by yourself. No help needed.
He has moved to create a respectable distance between the two of you by the time James is sweeping back into the room bearing a tray flush with drinks and snacks.
”Here, sweetie,” he drops a kiss upon the top of your head, presenting a glass. “Made you a mimosa…I know you like to keep it light through the week.”
You somehow manage a thank you and sip at the sweet, bubbly mix, praying it calms your frayed nerves.
”For us,” he extends the tray and you watch as Jake plucks a low ball glass from it, “bourbon. Unless you’d rather browse the bar. Plenty to choose from.”
”Bourbon is fantastic,” Jake nips at his glass. “Thank you.”
There is a palpable disdain hovering around Jake like a murky aura, but there is heartbreak there too. Aching and black. Heavy and weighing down the light that normally follows him around like a strange shadow…and you’d give anything to take it away.
For just a breath, you intend to do just that. To rise to your feet and stomp all over James’ open, trusting heart. To tell him the truth. To tell him you’re leaving. You nearly take Jake by the hand and drag him towards the door and leave everything else behind without explanation…simply to end his suffering.
Your lips nearly part to say the words when you’re cut off.
“Oh. I almost forgot,” James leans forward in his chair and grabs for your hand, absently running his thumb against your own, “Erin called. She said you guys had a great time the other day, said you’d planned something for this weekend? Wedding planning?”
Erin. His sister. You’ve grown close but it wouldn’t hurt to leave her behind. It wouldn’t even sting…not for Jake.
You squeeze his hand with a tiny smile and fight rolling nausea at the mere mention of the wedding in Jake’s presence. From the corner of your eye, you watch him tense, but he recovers quickly and drains his glass to the dredges in one pull.
”Well,” suddenly, he’s on his feet. “I’ve taken enough of your time today. It was good to see you.” His eyes are unreadable and shift quickly away from your own. “James, good to meet you and thank you for the hospitality.”
”Don’t run off on my account,” James is on his feet now as well, “We’d love to have you stay for dinner. I make a mean chicken Kiev, and…”
”No,” Jake interrupts, gaze jumping towards the door as if he can’t get away fast enough. “I’ve got a flight to catch in just a few hours, need to head back…you know how it goes.”
He sounds ineloquent and so unlike himself… and you can feel it - his heartbreak - in your bones as though you’ve crawled inside his body and curled up beside it like a clinging lover.
“Jake,” you can’t seem to move from your seat, your body uncooperative and rebellious, “Your car is still at the theater, let me drive you…”
”Drive me?” He is staring at you, white hot and desperate…the mask is finally slipping. He has played pretend all he can for the day. “And then what?”
”And then…” again, you are a coward. A fucking coward. “I don’t know. What do you mean, and then?”
The room is silent for a beat - with words unspoken crashing into the space between yourself and Jake, and James struggling to understand this strange exchange.
With the slightest nod of his head, Jacob silently encourages you. Urges you. Come with me, sugar…it seems to say, come home.
But still you sit, frozen and paralyzed. A horrified doe staring down the hunter’s muzzle.
Another nod, clipped and more obvious this time, responds to your inaction. “I’ll walk. Again, thank you for having me.”
The door closes behind him in a blink, and he is gone. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined him completely…
Looking down at your shaking hands in your lap, you realize you never even made it to your feet. You sat, unmoving, and watched him go.
~
Hours later, you’re standing outside an unfamiliar door, anxiously clutching at the straps of the bag tossed over your shoulder.
And when that unfamiliar door swings open, your heart unclenches, for there he stands. Showered, smelling of soap and warmth, hair curled into dampened, loose ringlets, beat to hell jeans riding low on his hips.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “If it isn’t Mrs. Wonderful…”
“Hi,” it comes out meek and small, but flush full of the comfort that is being near him.
”How’d you find me?” His arms cross loosely, with a faded smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
”Were you hiding?” Why hasn’t he turned to lead you in?
”From you, pretty girl?” He scoffs as if the very idea is preposterous. “Never.”
Yet, on he stands as though barring your entrance…as though he intends to send you on your way any moment.
”I called Josh,” you offer, wringing at your bag’s handles idly, simply for something to do with your hands. “He told me where you were staying.” Your gaze skitters over the house. “It’s nice. Cozy.”
He nods, “Airbnb. You mentioned something about us always being in hotels, before. I thought, if there was a chance I’d be hosting you, you might like something a little more…domestic. Though, I see now that you have plenty of that going for you already, right? Domesticity?”
“Do I deserve that?”
His shoulders hunch inwardly slightly, he knows you’re right, and he knows he’s being a bit of an asshole as well. “No, I suppose you don’t.”
”Are you going to invite me in? I feel a little stupid standing out here.” Vulnerability seems of such insignificance when it is Jacob in question. He knows your bare soul so well anyway.
Still, he allows you to dangle on his string, twisting languidly in the soft, evening breeze. “Why’d you call Josh to find me? Why not just call me? Missing my better half now that you’ve had a bit of fun with me?”
Now there’s a slight irritation traipsing along your nerves, and damned if you’re going to mask it. “Alright, either let me in or tell me to go to hell. I’m not going to beg for your good graces.”
”Are you coming in to stay? Or are you here to say goodbye? Because my heart has had enough for one day.”
”Oh, fuck off, Jacob.” You huff, pushing past him into the house. You slump your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor and then turn on him. “Sorry to have interrupted your pity party, but what did you think was going to happen today? Did you think it was going to be spectacular and wonderful to walk around in the life that I live with someone else? You practically fucked me in the bedroom I share with him. You lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree when you realized he was home. You wanted this, and you know what I think your problem is? I think you liked him.”
”Fuck you!” He slams the door closed and looks you over like you’ve lost your mind entirely. “You think I liked him? I couldn’t give a fuck less about him. He made my skin crawl. Do you know what it was like for me to watch him touch you? The way he looked at you…”
He falls silent and suddenly refuses to meet your eyes, and your heart breaks right alongside his.
Tentatively, you reach out and rest your palm against his cheek, “The way he looked at me doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It never really has.”
His hand floats up to meet yours, “He looked at you with so much love. Like he would give you the entire world. It made me feel not good enough. It made me feel like I should leave and let it be. Like I was wrong for showing up and rattling your whole life around.”
You’re backing him up against the door now, his gorgeous, stricken face held fast in your sure and gentle hands. “Not good enough? You? Oh, Jakey…” you pet at his face worshipfully, “We have a garden, remember? And you help me harvest, and I know you feed me those tiny tomatoes I like. You know? The little yellow ones? And they’re all gone before we even get inside.”
He’s nodding along as you pepper kisses upon his cheeks and forehead.
“And we have a porch swing, and a piano, and beautiful babies, and a cat…and you sing to us, and love us hard every single minute of every single day. And you make us so, so happy. And I wake up every morning with a smile on my face because I packed this stupid bag,” your foot darts out and kicks it, “and shoved my way inside when you refused to invite me in.”
”Don't say things you don’t mean, sugar…” his hands are in your hair now, guiding your mouth to his own so that he can lick inside it. He needs to taste you - needs to feel the silken velvet of your tongue, “I can’t take it, baby.”
You’re breathing each other's breath, lips like feathers dancing together soft and sweet, holding on to one another as if you might both just vanish into nothing in an instant, “I mean it, Jake…” you promise, “I mean it. You are everything,”
You can almost hear the pounding of his heart as the heat of his need begins to radiate and warm you, “Because I can’t stand the thought of leaving, of thinking you’ll follow, only for you to change your mind. It would kill me, sugar. So, please don’t say these things to me if you—“
You silence him with a deep, feverish kiss and then break away, forehead to forehead, “I’m not following later. I’m coming with you. This is where I am now…with you.”
Tears well in his eyes and spill over, hot and saline, as you lick and kiss them away. “I love you, pretty girl…” it chokes out of him, rasping as he swallows thickly, “I love you so fucking much. I’ve imagined this moment in so many different ways, but it was never as perfect as this. Tell me you know how much I love you.”
”I know, and I—“ it is he who interrupts with a desperate kiss this time.
And you know that later he will ask, and when he asks you will tell him what was said back at that house that broke his heart in two - how you ended things with the one who really never mattered at all…
…but for now all that matters is the taste of him on your lips. His air-drying hair looped through your searching fingers. Your hearts and lungs syncing, with his tears like brackish diamonds in your stomach because you have finally swallowed his sorrow and unburdened him from it.
He seems lighter in your arms already…closer now to the sun than he had ever been to the moon before.
Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama
225 notes · View notes
geminisecrets · 9 months
Text
You First
Warnings:  18+ ONLY! NSFW! Explicit sexual content, coarse language, oral sex, unprotected sex, mild drug and alcohol use, dirty talk idk I think that's it???
Word Count: 4750
Summary: friends with benefits turns complicated when someone's keeping a secret <3
Authors Note: It has been a long time!!! We really are amazed with the writers on here who never lose motivation and always put out the bangers, you guys make it look so easy and that's really cool!! But, alas, we have missed this and are happy to be getting back into the swing of things! We love you guys :')
Y’all are super duper fuckin' rad for telling us what you think about our stuff. ☯️
Requests are open :) 
Join our tag list ✨
Tumblr media
*disclaimer: apparently the gemini constellation is only seen in Dec/Jan but just pretend you can also see it in July gaslightgaslightgaslightgaskightgaslight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Jake, just tell me!” I laugh as Jake digs his fingers into my side, causing me to squeal louder.  
“Some secrets are better kept…secret”, he responds with a grin on his face, finally easing up on me as I push him away. “Trust me.” I sit up straighter on his lumpy, familiar couch, but he doesn’t give me any more personal space. He has a way of doing that. Taking up my space. And I wish I could say it bothered me. “Besides, what if I was the one annoying the fuck out of you until you told me your deepest, darkest secrets?”
“First of all, drama queen, you never said this was a deep or dark secret, second, you know everything about me, I’m sure of it. I’m an open book. A free bird,” I respond enthusiastically, getting up off the couch and spreading my arms out like wings. 
“Okay, free bird, you first. Are you going to admit you were faking your orgasm last night?” he asks, slouched into the couch, legs spread and hands folded in his lap. That same miserable grin is back on his face. I feel blood rush to my cheeks, coloring me guilty, immediately.   
“Fine,” I shrug, attempting to appear unbothered. “Yes, I did. I was tired and you were taking too long.” His grin widens slightly, but his eyes squint as he reads me. It’s times like these, I wish he didn’t know me as well as he did. I really and truly do wear my heart on my sleeve and my emotions tend to play on my face, like a movie screen. “Your turn,” I shift, crossing my arms over my chest. 
Jake stands and closes the gap between us in two long strides. His nose is practically brushing mine, he’s so close before he says, “Nice try,” and walks past me into the kitchen. 
“I’ll pry it out of you one way or another”, I say, following him begrudgingly. 
Jake and I have known each other for years. He was my first crush in middle school, who turned into my first boyfriend in highschool and after graduation, my biggest heartbreak. We tried the whole dating thing, but it was bad for both of us. Jake is very demanding of time and attention. He’s passionate and jealous and honest. I, on the other hand, have always been more free spirited, tending to go with the flow. We’re completely different. Fire and ice. 
I could sit here and tell you all the ins and outs of how he hurt me, how I hurt him, and all of the baggage that comes along with young love, but I’ll spare you the sob story. Just trust me when I tell you that Jake and I don’t do relationships well. Neither of us. I couldn't tell you the last time I had a boyfriend for longer than a month before it crashed and burned. And Jake? Jake’s exact words to me the last time I asked were, “I don't really do girlfriends.”
That hasn’t kept us from ignoring the obvious, though. No, we’re well aware of just how well we do fit together physically. Without saying it in so many words we’d become friends with benefits, fast. When I’m home from school and he’s in town, there aren’t many nights we spend without each other. Jake might be too prideful to admit the same, but I can say, honestly, that he’s by far the best sex I’ve ever had. 
“What time is everyone supposed to be here?” I question, as I watch him unload the dishwasher, stacking his coffee cups in the annoyingly particular way he always does. 
Jake’s throwing a small party tonight with some of our old mutual friends from home, since most everyone is in town for the fourth of July. The usual suspects will be here, I’m sure of it. We’ll fall back into old habits. Playing stupid drinking games until half of us can’t see straight and have to Uber home with our heads hanging out the window in a desperate attempt to dispel the nausea. 
I however, know without a shadow of a doubt, as much as I stand at the mirror and tell myself I won’t, that I will be in Jake’s bed tonight instead of the Uber in question. 
As if on cue, the doorbell rings. “Come in!” Jake belts out.
“Long time no see!” Jake’s twin brother, Josh, calls from the front door with a lick of sarcasm under his tongue. He shuffles into the kitchen and unpacks what appears to be half of the entire liquor store onto the counter top. 
Followed by Josh are Danny and Sam and their usual posse.They all say their hello’s and waste no time making their way into the kitchen to get the drinks flowing. 
An hour later, the house is full and the laughs are loud. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the banter, the blaring music, the escape from reality and the ability this house, this town, has to make us all forget how much distance there really is between the lives we live now and the ones we left behind. 
When it’s finally dark enough outside, we gather in the middle of the cul-de-sac and try our best to dodge the sparks flying off the dozens of fireworks Sam and Danny haphazardly detonate. Whoever decided to give control of the explosives to the two drunkest party guests should be criminally charged. 
The party quiets down a little bit and migrates to Jake’s backyard. We sit around his dingy homemade fire pit and watch the rest of the fireworks go off all around the neighborhood. The joint being passed around mellows most of us out and we sit there with our heads on the backrest of our camp chairs, tilted to the sky. 
“That right there is Gemini,” Sam says, pointing up towards the stars.
“Huh?” I overhear Jake question. 
“The Gemini constellation, stupid. The twins?” he scoffs, sounding truly offended, as if this is common knowledge for just anyone.
“You sure you weren't just seeing fireworks?” Jake teases. Sam rolls his eyes into the back of his head and grunts out a rebuttal. 
I think in Sam’s past-life he was some kind of hippie astronomer. He knows far too much about the cosmos for someone who decided against post secondary education. However, it’s a helpful tool to gauge just how far-gone Sam is. He always wants to talk about astronomy when he’s had one too many drinks. 
The conversation merges into talk of the ‘Good Ol’ Days’ and it’s just a matter of time before– 
“Remember when you and Jake tried dating?” Josh yells from the opposite side of the firepit, gesturing to me. There are a few chuckles and eye rolls from the group. Josh loves this story. Loves making me blush and riling his brother up. 
I usually ignore it, but it drives Jake insane for some reason. He doesn’t always know how to keep his cool when he is annoyed, especially with his brother. “Is something funny?” he chides.
“Uh oh. Did I poke the bear?” Josh taunts, throwing me a wink.
I am all too familiar with their typical twin banter bullshit, I’ve been around it for years. They like to egg each other on until the other explodes, and if Josh keeps going, he’s going to get exactly what he’s wanting out of Jake. 
“Come on, Josh, that topic is so tired, what about your tryst with that one guy…” Danny steps up to save the day and change the conversation as Jake turns to me. 
“I’m tired,” he says quietly, yawning widely. Jake has a very small social battery and when he’s done, he’s done. 
“Me too,” I breathe, catching his contagious yawn. As we stand to make our way inside, the rest of the party seems to naturally disperse as well. One by one, the party starts to fade out, until there is no one left but Sam. 
“I have about $5 in my bank account so uber isn’t an option. Cool if I just crash in the guest room.” Sam says. 
“Let me go grab my stuff out of there,” I offer, moving past him to reach for the door handle. 
“Oh, shit, sorry I don’t want to put you out if that’s where you were planning on sleeping tonight,” Sam interjects. 
“Sam, just go to bed,” Jake orders. I can’t tell if his curt response is due to the fact that I know he’s tired or if he doesn’t want to get into the logistics of exactly where I’d be sleeping instead. 
Sam begrudgingly obeys and drags his near lifeless body into the bedroom. I follow him, flicking on the light and collecting my bag off the bed before wishing him goodnight. Before I even have the door completely closed, the light flickers off and we hear a loud thud.  
“Jesus, it sounds like he catapulted himself onto the mattress,” Jake huffs out a lazy laugh, wiping away the sleep from his eyes and meanders into the bathroom. 
“If I had nine shots of tequila and a rack of beers to myself, I’m sure I'd be doing the same”, I yawn, grabbing my bag and making my way to the living room. 
I’ve almost got a little bed completely set up on the couch when Jake snatches the blanket from my hands. 
“Come on,” he says, dragging my blanket down the hallway towards his room without muttering another word, let alone giving me half a second to respond. I follow him anyway, stopping in the doorway to watch him shuffle out of his jeans. 
“Jake,” I nearly whisper. “If I sleep in here, will you tell me your secret?” I ask as coyly as I can muster at this ungodly hour in the middle of the night. His movements come to a halt when he pulls his shirt over his head, glaring at me. 
“I think I’d tell you just about anything to get you to let me sleep,” he groans, but the upward tilt of a smile on his lips reassures you that there’s no real malice behind his words. 
I roll my eyes and finally close the door behind me. By the time I take my makeup off and change into a t-shirt, he’s already in bed with the lamp off and the TV on, playing his usual reruns of Shameless. I crawl into bed next to him, and make myself comfortable. 
This is…new for us. Sure, I’ve been in bed with Jake before, but not like this. This feels… domestic. Intimate in a way I’m not sure I know how to process. I peer up at Jake, watching him for a few moments as he watches the TV.  
“So… this secret…” I coax. 
“Hmm,” he barely acknowledges me. 
“A deal’s a deal, Kiszka,” I remind him, shifting up on my elbow, my head in my hand, waiting for him to come clean. 
“I don’t remember making any deals with you, succubus,” he suppresses a grin as he lazily tosses his arm up and under his pillow, eyes still fixed on the TV. 
“I’m in your bed, aren’t I?” I ask, “Now it’s your turn to–”
“I’m pretty sure my exact words were ‘I’d tell you just about anything’. Emphasis on the ‘just about’ part.” 
“Are you—”
“You’re gonna have to work a little harder than that,” he breathes out, no longer attempting to hide the smile that’s creeping onto his lips. 
I let out a ‘humph’ and fall flat onto my back, arms crossed. I lay there awake for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to the ever soothing sounds of Southside Chicago from the TV.
There’s a kind of tension in the room that I don’t think either of us can really place. Sexual tension is not something Jake and I are strangers to. I’ve felt that with him since the day we met. This is not that. This feels tethered to something much deeper.
I think about giving up and calling it a night, but the longer I lay there the harder it is for me to fall asleep. Jake and I don’t do feelings. We’re friends, sure. Friends who have casual sex, but the boundaries we have in place are all unspoken.
I finally work up the courage to break the silence by rustling the sheets as I change positions to lay on my side, facing him. Lazily, he turns his head to look at me. His expression is blank as he waits for me to say something and I become increasingly aware of how close his face is to mine. 
“What are you hiding, Jake?” I ask as I intertwine my leg with his under the covers. I feel my breath bounce off of his lips and back on to mine. He scoffs, turning his face back toward the ceiling and pinching the bridge of his nose as if I’m pestering him like a small child. 
I maneuver myself even closer to him, my lips latching on to his neck, peppering kisses in a routeless path between his ear lobe and collar bone. I hear him exhale through barely parted lips as he relaxes into my advances. 
“Sleepy?” I ask, not-so-subtly propositioning him. 
“Not anymore,” he responds, tucking his hair behind his ear and sitting up on his elbows. 
I shrug the covers off of myself and maneuver on top of him until I’m straddling his waist. His hands palm my naked thighs as I reach for the hem of his worn t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. 
I let him pull mine off as well and his hands latch on to my breasts almost instantly. Shaking my head, I peel them off of me and place them at his sides, holding them down tightly at the wrist. He gives me a look of confusion and I try and fail to suppress a grin as I lean in to kiss him. 
His lips move slowly but persistently against mine and part for me immediately as I lick into his mouth. His tongue slides against my teeth and I take the opportunity to bite down on it gently, causing him to groan into my mouth. 
“Jake,” I sigh into his mouth, swiveling my hips against his as I feel him, semi hard between my legs. His hands twitch under my grip.
“Let me touch you,” he breathes, biting down on my lower lip as he pleads. 
“No,” I whisper back, kissing him harder as I fall into a rhythm with my hips. Reaching between us, I pull my panties to the side and position myself directly on top of his hard dick, the only thing separating him from my wet core is the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. 
“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, eyes squeezing shut. 
“No, no,” I reach my free hand up to take his jaw in my grip, the other hand still holding his arm down at his side. “Eyes on me.” His eyes meet mine again as my mouth falls open. A silent gasp escapes me as I slide my wet core against the material of his covered cock. I release his wrist and jaw in favor of placing both hands on his bare chest. “Oh my God, Jake,” I whimper, closing my eyes and tossing my head back. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t putting on a bit of a show. “You’re so hard,” I sigh. 
“Can I please fuck you?” he asks breathlessly beneath me, hands knotted obediently in the sheets at his side. 
“Hmmm,” I consider, “how could I let you fuck me when you’re keeping all these big secrets?” He glares at me before reaching up and taking me by the waist, knocking me on my back until he’s hovering over me. 
“You like secrets,” he reminds me, lips at my ear, sucking on my earlobe before licking a stripe down my neck. 
“Do I?” I question, letting myself fully melt into the feeling of his lips and tongue and hands on me while he’s not seeing just how much I’m enjoying it. 
“Mhm…or did you want Sam to know what we’re up to in here?” He asks, right hand tugging at my nipple while the other still holds me around my waist, trapped between me and the mattress. I roll my eyes, causing him to pinch my nipple tighter. The sound I let out is somewhere between a moan and a yelp and I clamp my hand over my mouth instantly. Jake giggles, letting his head drop to my chest, kissing at the skin he’d just pinched. “See, secrets are fun. Necessary, even.”
He continues kissing down my body until he reaches my underwear. Looking up at me through his eyelashes, he takes the elastic between his teeth and pulls them down as far as he can before finishing the job with his hands. 
When I’m bare and naked before him, he parts my legs wide enough for him to settle between them. “How do you want it tonight?” He asks. This is new territory for us. We don’t… take it slow. We don’t ask questions and, in fact, this is only maybe the second time we’ve ever hooked up in an actual bed. Closet, car, tent, couch, sure. The bed feels… intimate. Where we’re usually rushed and frantic, simply trying to get each other off, we’re now slowing down, touching softly and intentionally. 
“Uhm,” I start, not sure how exactly to answer the question. Feeling out of control, I panic, sitting up and taking his face in my hands. My lips crash against his and he’s caught off guard as I press him back against the mattress. 
“Not what I was thinking, but I’m not complaining,” Jake smirks, relaxing into the mess of bed sheets, his eyes still tracking my every move. 
I make my way down the expanse of his chest to his cock, freeing him from those damned briefs. I don’t waste time pressing my lips to his tip, gently sucking. I watch as his breath causes his abdomen to flutter, up and down. Admiring the way his hip bones jut out on especially deep or sharp inhales. The second his hands are in my hair, I slide him down the back of my throat. 
His hips immediately buck upwards as he thrusts himself deeper into my mouth, and I hear him mutter out words of admiration and praise. 
“Oh fuck”, “deeper”, “slower”, he doesn’t stop. He’s always been vocal during sex and I can’t get enough of it.  
I pull him out of my mouth the second I sense he’s enjoying it a bit too much; moving back up towards him. His hands are still in my hair, but move down the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. His tongue meets my lips first and then slides under mine like velvet as he slowly repositions me until my back is pressed into the mattress; him hovering over me. 
“How bad do you wanna know?” He breathes, eyes meeting mine before his head dips to press wet, sucking kisses to the curve of my neck. I feel myself losing the control I had over this situation, but I can’t seem to make myself care. He lowers himself onto his elbows so that his body is flush with mine. I can feel him, hard, pressed against me. 
“Bad,” I mutter, reaching down between us in an attempt to slide him inside of me. 
“Ah-ah,” he shifts his hips back, away from me. “Sounds like you’re gonna have to earn it tonight.” 
“Earn it?” I ask, trying to focus as his head slowly snakes down my body until I feel his lips press warm kisses on the inside of my thighs. 
“Sh”, he silences me. His two fingers dive into my core, and he scissors them, stretching me the way he knows I like. He takes a moment to pull his hair back into a loose bun and he smiles when I make a crack about things getting serious. His tongue finally licks a stripe up my center, pressing hard and flat against my clit, his fingers simultaneously pumping in and out of me.It doesn’t take long for me to get there. I’m close. So close, already. 
I feel my legs tense and clench around the sides of his face and my breathing hitches frantically. He uses it to his advantage, pulling me closer by the hips and nearly suffocating himself with me. His palms press against my stomach, holding me firmly in place while I ride out my orgasm.  
When he pulls away, he crawls over me and lays his chest against mine. His lips press against the shell of my ear and I feel his breath echo as I stare at the ceiling and try to gather myself. 
“I fucking love the sounds you make when you finish”, he whispers as he huffs out a laugh. He uses a free hand to brush the hair off of my neck, tucking it behind my ear. 
“Hmmm,” I smile a hum against his shoulder, “probably almost as much as I love hearing you whimper for me.
He scoffs, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “I do not whimper.” 
“Wanna bet?” I ask, pressing against his shoulders, pushing him back against the bed. 
“Be gentle with me,” he teases. Teases, because he and I both know he prefers me to be far from gentle. 
Without another word, I line myself up over top of him and tease him at my entrance. His hips buck up against me immediately, and there's that little gasp. That throaty, breathy puff of air that pours out from between his lips, reminding me that at the end of the day, he really is putty in my hands.  
“This gentle enough?” I ask, peeking down through my lashes at him. “Can I make you feel good, now?” I grind my hips downward, my wetness sliding against the length of him as my mouth opens, jaw falling slack, mimicking his. I nod my head slowly, grinning when I finally hear the faintest whisper of a whimper. There it is. 
“So impatient,” I grin, only half joking, but he proves my point when, seconds later, he grabs my hips and slams himself into me. My back arches immediately as I let out a loud moan and I hear him gently mock me. He thrusts into me, taking back all that power I had over him, reminding me this time, that I’d do absolutely anything to keep him exactly where he is, inside me, for as long as possible. 
Feeling unsteady at this pace, he’s set, I reach behind me to grab his calves for support, hoisting myself up. I let my head fall back as I feel his cock stretch me better at this angle. 
“Oh my God,  Jake,” I whine, “I c– I can’t–” 
Before I can blink, I’m falling swiftly to the mattress below me. I squeal as he grabs my legs behind the knees and folds them up against my chest. He takes his cock in his hand and circles it around my clit, my body pulsing every time I feel the soft head of his cock pass over that ever sensitive bundle of nerves.
“So pretty,” he breathes out, “all of this for me?” He asks, more of a statement than a question, dipping himself into the pool of wetness at my entrance, causing my breath to hitch as he stretches me slowly. I look up to see him grinning and staring at my face, eager for praise and compliment. So I give him just that. 
“All for you,” I respond, completely breathlessly. “You’re so good, so so good, best fuck I’ve ever had,” I gasp as he finally pushes himself all the way inside of me, right to the hilt.
I can feel his cock throbbing inside of me, even with the quick snap of his hips. My head starts to bang against the headboard and I would laugh if I wasn’t fully and completely on another planet. 
Thankfully he notices without me even saying a word and drags me further down the bed with just one arm around me. 
“Sorry, baby,” he grunts, “lemme make you feel better,” his thumb reaches down to press circles against my clit, and I swear to God I see stars. 
“Gonna cum again, for me?” He asks, once again, knowing the answer to his own question as he knows my body better than I know it myself. “Wait for me.”
He leans down, breathing heavily against my chest as his sweat slicked forehead rubs against the beads of sweat on my neck. It’s messy and it’s hot and it’s fast as he presses wet kisses to my skin. Somehow, he maintains the perfect pace and I feel him begin to twitch as he lets out a moan, muttering sweet praises into my ear. “Yes, baby. Good girl. So good for me.” 
He continues to fuck into me for a moment longer until he feels me cumming again, pushing himself deeper into me, harder, exactly how I like it. He waits a few beats as we catch our breath, enjoying the closeness. He pulls out of me and we both collapse on the bed next to each other until the silence in the room is stiff enough to choke me. 
“Can I ask you something?” I question, taking his silence as permission. “Why do you let Josh get under your skin so much?” he turns his head toward me, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 
“I was– inside you, thirty seconds ago and you’re asking about my brother?” A loud laugh bubbles out of me at his blunt response, but I continue, 
“Sorry, timing is weird, I know, but I was thinking, like…” I swallow, directing my attention to the chipping nail polish on my pointer finger, feeling suddenly small under the weight of his stare. “I feel like every time he brings us up, you get weird.” 
Jake’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head like some kind of unofficial response. 
“Okay fine maybe it’s not Josh, but the subject?” I push further, daring to meet his eyes again. 
“Damn, you aren’t gonna give this up, are ya?” He huffs. 
“Fine, if you don’t want to talk about that, then at least give me my fair share of the deal.” I lift up on my elbow to peer down at him. “I’d say I more than earned this secret.” I smile. 
He looks up at me and for a moment, I can tell he's looking at more than my face. His eyes drift to the hollow of my collar bones, the hairs falling out of the disaster of a ponytail it was in, the space between my ear and neck that he’d breathed quiet promises into just minutes ago. 
“What if the two are connected?” He asks, finally. When I give him a look of confusion, he continues, “the way we used to be and– and the secret?” 
“I’m listening,” I feel my heart begin to beat just a touch faster, my cheeks warming ever so slightly. He leans up to mirror my position, his eyes meeting mine at a direct level. 
“I guess I was just hoping it wasn’t really a secret at all,” he says, eyes searching mine, practically begging me to understand what he’s not saying. The air is heavy and thick between us. He swallows hard as I begin to realize what he’s alluring to. 
“Forget it, I–” he begins, breaking our eye contact, ready to make up some lame excuse about being tired and choosing to talk about it in the morning. 
“I love you too, Jake,” I blurt out before I can chicken out. 
And I will never– ever forget his face when he looked back up at me in that moment. 
Because I was finally able to answer, in one sentence, the question he’d been asking for years and years. “Do you love me, like I love you?” Yes, resoundingly and conclusively, yes. 
Masterlist
Taglist:
@doodle417 @gvfrry @spicedandicedtea @yeehawbesties @samkiszkalover @gretavansteph @mannick @theweightofjake @basiccortez @lallisonl @sammiejane22 @sammyslappers @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @keighoe @myownparadise96 @gretavanbitches @s0livagant @aconfusedhippie @jordierama @writingcold @fuzzybatpersonafan @mamalikes-gvf @laurenlovesgretavanfleet @alwaysonthemend @saoirsemaeve
602 notes · View notes
chouxsardine · 3 months
Text
Warm Honey---Jake Kiszka x reader
Tumblr media
A short blurb where me imagining getting high with Jake and listening to classical music ended up turning into some jake-playing-guitar worship and stream of consciousness smut. I just feel it's so sexy when your partner can feel the effect they have on you, and I'd like to think Jake loves that. 18+ content below cut. Enjoy!
Warning: 18+! Minors DNI, Drug use (marijuana), sexual content, body worship (kind of)
🎧: Scriabin Sonata No.4 in F sharp major, Op.30
--------------------------------
He is all that you can think of, all that you feel.
Whenever you smoke joint with Jake, you always like to describe your mind as being “in a stake of Jake”. He is not occupying the space as the subject. Instead, he wraps around it in an all-encompassing way. He exists as the warmth of a blanket, a scene from the rear view mirror, the tingling on your skin as the wetness from an open-mouthed kiss evaporates.
Jake is sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, you are lying down with your head on his lap. The air is damp, saturated with the earthy smell. Jake just lets out a puff of smoke. You look up and blink. The light of the floor lamp is hazy through the smoke like the moon halo. Rachmaninoff is playing at a low volume in the background. The title of the melody escapes you. It could be Symphony No.2 or something like that. You are too far gone to put any effort into trying to recall it. Life feels really good at this moment, and that’s all you want to focus on.
Jake’s hand is resting in your hair, occasionally scratching your scalp or swirling the soft strands near your hairline around his finger, sending buzzing shivers under your skin. You squirm a bit, reaching above to grab his hand in yours. The sensation of being in touch with human flesh clashes with your stupefying illusion. Suddenly, Jake’s hands become the most interesting thing in the world.
If Jake is sober enough to look down, he will find you staring at his hand intensely with dilated pupils. The skin around your eyes is tinted with a fluffy shade of pink. And you are staring with the fervent passion of a child looking into a kaleidoscope for the first time, stunned and in awe. His hands are warm. Nails always blunt and well-trimmed, receded tamely behind the finger tips. Veins visible under his skin, knuckles strong and sturdy. You hold up his hand higher to the ceiling, looking at the light seeping through the slits between his fingers as if he has magical powers.
His hands truly are magical. The way he makes his guitar whine and moan on stage. You close your eyes briefly, recalling the way his right hand firmly grasping the neck while the palm of his left hand resting on its rear body. Sometimes he does that devious thing where he pushes the guitar back and forth as if shaking someone’s shoulder, the intensity of it cushioned by their connection through the strap, thereby creating a tensile and magnetic stretch between them. Once, you asked him why he would do that; “it helps with the trills and echoes,” he said, flashing you a smirk. You don’t believe him for one bit. When his fingers slide across the fretboard in an elegantly frantic speed, you wonder why there aren’t sparks bursting out because it surely looks like swiftly striking the head of a match against the side of the box. And you love the way he does tremolo, oh, the dazzling movement of his fingers on the higher end of the fretboard, his ring finger and pinky curved, alternating so smoothly that it looks like he is tickling someone. Well, it surely tickles your heart. And your pussy, if you are being honest. That’s when you feel it. The wetness sneaks up on you slowly. Jake always turns you on at the flip of a switch, the blink of an eye. Normally, you are already soaked as your mind is preoccupied with the yearning for his mouth, his fingers, and his cock. However, the weed amplifies all senses. This time, you can almost feel the titillation trickling down your spine, like morning dew collected on rose petals.
Without much thought (not that you can form any coherent ones now anyway), you hold up his fingers, make them spider-walk across your belly before lowering them down into your panties.
Jake lets out an amusing humph. With all the sensory stimulation stealing his words, he’s not much of a talker when he’s high. Your communication during times like these are almost telepathic—you could tell from just a simple raise of his fingers that he wants another handful of chips, and he could tell just by the slightest turn of your head that you want another hit. He always jokes that you read each other between the lines. The reassuring silence weaves a velvet blanket that falls and lands on both of you in a floating manner.
You look up and find him looking down on you with a lopsided smile. So lackadaisical that it’s almost goofy but smug nonetheless. He quirks his eyebrows, and you put up a finger against your lips.
“Shh.”
You’ve always known that Jake loves to watch. He gets so hard just by watching you getting yourself off, using all of his willpower not to come in his pants while somehow managed to take mental notes of your preference. He always looks down the moment your bodies connect, whether that’s him entering you or you sinking down on him. His mind is always blown by the way he disappears into you bit by bit and your malleability to adjust him. It’s almost like you were made for each other. The combination of the visual image and the physical sensation short-circuits his brain. The sigh and moans that escape him drive you crazy. Jake loves the process as much as he enjoys the maddening pleasure. And this time, with the weed delaying the need to fuck each other, you would like to let him experience that.
At first, it’s just his dry and warm palm covering your lower belly, his finger slotted between your fold, with his finger pad resting against your hood and finger tip grazing your clit. You feel he move, instinctively wanting to rub it.
“Nuh uh,” you tightens your grip, “I want you to feel it, babe.”
You are certain you are getting there. You can almost picture it, like honey slowly descending down the wall of a glass tube. It’s an agonizingly slow process, like a golden snake with malicious intent, twisting and turning its body; its expected sweetness drawing out the moisture of the mouth, causing one to salivate.
Ah. Here it comes.
Without meeting his gaze, you know that Jake feels it too. His fingers have long familiarized themselves as the hierarch of the territory which is your pussy. He has learned, through time and experience, the prelude of your arousal. Every respond is picked up by the tactile receptors on his finger pad and his muscle memory. Much like with his guitars, Jake is always caught in an affectionate paradox when it comes to your pussy—he walks this ground with confidence and pride over the possessiveness he has over it, albeit constantly carrying a veneration for its beauty and the sincere humbleness to learn and explore.
The previous friction has now transformed into a gentle rise of temperature and the coated slickness provided by your discharge. Your clit presses more firmly against his finger tips now that it starts to swell and throb.
“Damn, love, can almost feel your heartbeat.” Jake grunts, his words a bit slurred.
“That’s the point,” you arch your back, feeling vainglorious about your little trick, “my tell-tale heart. Feel what you do to me by simply existing?”
“Gosh, you’re gonna end me one day,” Jake tilts his head backwards, his eyes rolling back too, “but I wouldn’t want it any other way. And the epitaph would say, ‘gone doing what he loves’.”
You laugh, knowing that the filter between his brain and mouth has melted away now. Meanwhile, you are getting silkier and warmer by the second. Jake feels like he dips his finger into a jar of honey, the snugness of your walls trapped him there. He’s an insect preserved in a sea of saccharin, captivated by the moment as the waves wash over him again and again, reminding him that he is the reason why his girl is so turned on, he is the reason why this body lying against him coordinates all its nerves and cells to produce such an amazing response to his touch.
You can hear the clarinet playing in the symphony. If your memory serves you right, it won’t be long until the allegro vivace of the last movement kicks in. You look up at Jake’s face again. He swallows, his Adam’s Apple trembles in a way that makes you want to take a bite. With his eyes closed, his eyebrows pulling together, and his lips pursed, that man looks like he could be having an orgasm right there. It’s almost whimsical, given that he is the one who has his hand in your pants. You let out a low chuckle.
“What?” He cracks open an eye.
“You know they said weed slows people’s movement?” You quip, tapping your fingers provocatively over his, a sultry tone in your voice.
“Oh,” Jake’s eyes darkens, the familiar devious smile shine through his relaxed features.
“Now, those are fighting words, doll. You wanna test them out?”
--------------------------------
165 notes · View notes