katuschka

[katuschka]

What if the mic's there just for counting? Jake Metronome Kiszka. Sexy AF.

He can count... That's so hot.

#jake kiszka #mirador #jake gvf

[katuschka]

Olalla – Chapter 01

Josh Kiszka x female OC, Jake Kiszka 4.965 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, talking about death, anxiety, alcohol consumption

Taglist

I had a dream that the sky above the mountains darkened, but it was just my beloved’s darkening eyes. 

I had a dream there was a lightning brightening the skies above those hills, but it was just my beloved’s cheeks that lightened. 

I had a dream in which I saw storm clouds approaching, but it was just a boy making love to his beloved. (I Had a Dream, Čechomor)

It was true that Jake and Josh had seen the world, but their trips and explorations were always restricted by time. Everything was scheduled, planned and adjusted to fit the itinerary. Wherever they went, it was – first and foremost – a “business trip”. Sometimes they had days in between shows, oftentimes just hours. Be there on time. We don’t have enough time. You can visit only one of those galleries this time. Maybe next time... They were now rapidly approaching thirty, but haven’t yet experienced the simple joy of backpacking with all its perks and benefits. Freedom being probably the most important of them. 

So, when the last show ended and it was time to fly back home, they decided to stay behind for a little while. It was a spontaneous decision, made in Josh’s hotel room after having had one too many beverages with several other people, none of whom shared their enthusiasm. Everyone just wanted to go home. They say there’s nothing like home and it’s true that there had been times when it meant something to the two of them as well, even after months spent away from it. But right now, their beds back home were cold and empty – a sad consequence, as well as a memento, of the lives they’d lived and the things they’d done. Could it have been prevented? Maybe, but what is past is past. It was the present that could and should be taken care of, and there was still the future to be shaped. 

Even though the others tried to talk sense into them and nearly succeeded, by 4 am, the two of them finally made up their minds that it was time to really choose the road. “Time to write my own fucking screenplay,” Josh said. After a short nap, they repacked the essentials, said their goodbyes and hopped the train that was supposed to take them to all those yet to be discovered places. 

Because it was summertime, last-minute accommodation options were pretty limited in larger cities. That only made it even more exciting, though, and turned out to be quite beneficial in the end. More often than not, they had to share a room that only had one king size bed. Not only they didn’t mind, it seemed as the most natural thing to do, and they welcomed it. Sightseeing or hiking during daylight hours, they didn’t want to part and disappear in their separate dens in the evening, like they did on tour. Touring – with all the rush and stress and boredom – often made them feel lonely. 

They knew they had been hurting, they were well aware of the reasons why, but there had not been enough time to come clean about it. So, now, their late night talks often ended with at least one of them crying as the reminiscences of the people who no longer wanted to be part of their lives turned into shared melancholy. 

Sharing…that’s what the trip turned out to be really about. Two brothers who once shared a womb, who later forged their mutual dreams about healing humankind through art into their shared destiny. Now they opened up to each other about how much they feared loneliness and lack of love. And it was a shared fear, too. It wouldn't be fair to say that there wasn’t enough love or affection in their lives, on the contrary. They were showered with it in great abundance. Their parents, siblings, other family members and all their numerous friends all loved them dearly and unconditionally, simply because they existed. The plentitude of it, including their mutual love for each other, shaped their personalities and nurtured their souls as they grew up. 

That’s how they learned about the importance of love. They knew very well how lucky they were. Forever grateful, they wanted to share it and to pass it on…and then they were told that they didn’t. The reality hit them in their faces like a freight train loaded with reproach.

That’s how they found themselves mourning the kind of love they thought they failed to provide, the one they thought they consequently didn’t deserve. Once they conceded this to each other, they had to face the fact that they felt ashamed. They also had to admit that their own broken hearts still hurt, the raw and barely healed wounds opening up again during those midnight talks. A few times they fell asleep in a comforting embrace. 

Wawel Castle, Krakow 

“I think we should head back to the hotel.” 

When Jake came back from the bathroom, Josh was still leaning over the railings, looking down at the river bend just below the high stone outer wall. He felt so much at peace up here, the fragrant summer air saturated with the scent of trees, damp stone, vanilla ice cream – as well as sudden whiff of ozone – filling his nostrils. They weren’t alone here. The courtyard was still full of people at this time of day, but the humidity muffled all the conversations as well as shrieking kids that were running around, and turned it all into a pleasant hum. It all felt almost dreamlike. Somewhere in the distance, less than a hundred miles further south, were the mountains…

Their adventure was nearing the end, it was their time to fly home the next day. It had rained heavily that morning and the forecast for the whole day promised volatile weather as the fronts collided, but that didn’t stop them. There were still a few places in Krakow which particularly Josh wanted to visit. Not really in a hurry, they went out for early lunch; later they were just idling around in the old town, eating pretzels and doughnuts, drunk on wine. It was almost 5 pm now. 

“You're probably right,” Josh finally replied, looking at the sky with a frown, “but I’d really love to stay here a little longer.” 

Jake didn’t say anything, just nodded. They stood next to each other for another ten minutes, overlooking the southern part of the city as well as ominous clouds that had formed near the horizon and were now slowly approaching. The wind was rising, playing with their hair, tossing the strands wildly from side to side. They should have been running for shelter by now, but the fresh breeze made them feel completely and utterly reckless. Jake started humming a familiar tune and Josh quickly chimed in: “But the fool on the hill sees the Sun going down

And the eyes in his head see the world spinning 'round…” …and they bursted out laughing like two madmen as the other people around them scrambled in their feet, looking for a place to hide, girls squeaking as the first raindrops hit the ground.

Now they were running too, heading back to the Old Town, passing crowded restaurants and pubs that didn’t appeal to them anyway. People were running around like ants and the storm clouds and the heavy rain quickly covered the streets in a blanket of semi-darkness. Soon they no longer knew where they were headed. They obviously missed a turn back to the main square and not much later found themselves on a much more quiet and nearly abandoned street that probably wasn’t on a tourist map. The storm hit in full force. 

“Not a fucking thunder,” Jake groaned. They were both already absolutely drenched. Trying to find their way back to the hotel in the pouring rain now proved completely futile as they were probably at least a mile away from it anyway, and being no longer in the area of fancy cafés and parfumeries, looking for shelter of any kind wasn’t that easy anymore, either. A small – and already closed –  grocery shop here, a tenement doorway there…finally they spotted a pub that looked promising. Both of them craved a beer anyway. 

The pub was pretty cozy and warm. It was actually more like a café, only situated below the street level, in the cellar of the building. They sat in silence for a while, but Josh was becoming increasingly restless with each minute, chewing his lip and tapping his fingers on the table. “Ok, what’s going on,” Jake finally asked. 

“I’m staying.”

When it was met with a half-confused, half-annoyed stare, he continued. “I mean, just for two more weeks. I’d like to go hiking.”

The confusion was gone. Jake was just annoyed now. “Explain. Where? Why?”

“The Tatras. A guy told me the other day… You were still asleep, so I went out to have some breakfast. You know, Krishna bistro across the street… The place was already crowded by 9 am so these two guys joined me at my table. They just came from their hiking trip down there and showed me some pictures.They called the place ‘miniature Alps’, so you can’t get lost,” he laughed nervously. “It’s a spur-of-the-moment thing, see? But I feel I need it.”  

Jake needed a moment to decompress. This whole trip had been a “spur-of-the-moment thing”...and they did it together. They had also agreed that it was exactly what they needed, so what the fuck is this bullshit? Josh sensed the impending question even before Jake formed the words in his head. 

“You still have some work you need to finish before the start or the next leg…but I don’t. That’s why I didn’t tell you before. You’d just try to convince me to go home with you. I know it’s a long flight…I’m sorry Jake, but I really need to do this. For once in my life.”

“It’s insane Josh. And probably dangerous. And it’s mid-season. You probably won’t even find free lodgings. Then what?”

“I already booked it. The guy gave me a tip. Jake…don’t be mad. You know it’s irrational. We’re adults.”

Jake was angry. But he had to agree that it was irrational. They drowned the irrationality in a few more beers and so it happened that the next day, their ways parted. Jake boarded the plane headed for Gatwick while Josh took the train south. 

Jake

London, 12:15 pm

The weather improved considerably since yesterday, but I still couldn’t shake off the sense of impending doom. At first I thought that it was just the anxiety I often felt when flying, this time multiplied by the fact that I was completely alone thousands of miles away from home and wouldn’t even get there sooner than the next morning, at the very best. Only to be greeted by my housekeeper, if I were lucky. Then I remembered that since there was no one else there, she also only came on Mondays every other week while I was away, to do the most necessary tasks like making sure that the house wouldn’t be buried under a layer of gray dust when I came back. 

However, I landed in London about half an hour ago, downed a beer, had a smoke, but the unpleasant feeling that something bad was about to happen still lingered. I couldn’t put my finger on it, all I knew was that I already missed Josh. 

It was completely irrational. We were adults. I had no right to be angry that he stayed behind, but I was. We spent more time together in the last two weeks than we had in over a year. I mean really together, not just next to each other. It was supposed to be our trip, the purpose of which, among other things, was to shake off the growing feeling of loneliness that comes with this lifestyle. So, me being annoyed with him now was perhaps understandable. But anxious? As I said, I hate flying. Having to fly alone sucks and I was about to board a transcontinental plane later that afternoon. I finally convinced myself that anxiety was also understandable. Nothing to be ashamed of…I guess. Still, something seemed off. 

Agnieszka

Zakopane, 5:40 am

I checked the weather app again. Yes, definitely a perfect day for a hike. The sky was perfectly clear after yesterday’s storm and the air coming through the open window felt crisp and fresh. With a bit of luck, it would stay that way well until early afternoon, although one could never be sure here.  

That’s what I both love and hate about the mountains. Even now, at the age of total control over everything, the mountains are unpredictable, uncontrollable and untamed. Even if we destroyed all the life they harbour, bare and stony valleys would still kill you even more easily if you were bold and arrogant enough to venture too far. Many people come here to conquer the mountain. That’s why we hear the sound of rescue helicopters a few times a week. 

Have you ever smelled wet granite? I don’t mean cobblestones or granite walls, but the rough stone, spewed out to the surface of the earth by the untamed power of this planet, broken and twisted with the forces of nature like plasticine…even though a small piece could easily break your skull. There are places here where jagged rock towers a kilometer over your head. When the clouds hang low, try just standing at the bottom of a glacial cirque, surrounded by numerous peaks. It’s a deeply humbling experience. The place literally breathes. You can hear it sing its ominous song and its cold breath can chill you to the bone. These places are indescribably majestic and beautiful…and also scary when you experience the power firsthand. 

Dominik was never scared. He loved the mountains very much, but he had lost all his humbleness. This place does not forgive such folly. He fell 500 meters and was probably dead even before his body hit the ground. It took them three more hours to find him. By that time he was already half buried under fresh white snow. They couldn’t save him. It happened in one of those gorgeous, scary places and I never saw him again. I burned my white dress that day. 

But that was more than 6 years ago…and I’m still here, taking care of pretty alpinists who come and go, but never stay. Fucking them is convenient. Sometimes, the sensation left by their warm skin pressed against mine lingers longer than I’d deem comfortable and safe, but no one broke my heart again. Mom keeps telling me that my decision to never marry after what happened is breaking hers. She prays for me every Sunday, but she never understood. My father is like a domesticated chamois. A former mountaineer, tamed by a local beauty. Now he spends more time chopping wood and fixing old pipes. He says his knees hurt, but I know he’s happy down here with her. I like men who are just as wild as the wolves running over these hills, but to actually love them is a slow and painful suicide. I barely recovered from the first one. The next would also be the last. 

My dad has been a caretaker of Villa Eulalia for as long as I remember, and even before. I grew up here, surrounded by wild nature and the people who tried to monetize it. Later, my parents bought the building and Eulalia became our family business. It’s much more than that, though. It’s home. Surrounded by new, modern and luxurious hotels owned by townspeople who don’t know this place at all, we’re old residents who offer shelter to those searching for peace here. 

There are generally two kinds of people who come to Zakopane: vacationers and explorers. We don’t offer nice views, jacuzzis and sparkling wine. We will – however – make you breakfast at 5 am.. Whether you want to explore the hiking trails that belong to all or hidden places in your mind that are your own, we are your people. We are the same. 

I couldn’t imagine my life to be any different. I had been climbing these hills since I’d learned to walk. I went to Krakow to get my master’s degree in tourism management, I travelled a bit, made some new friends and even considered some other life options for a while, but I came back eventually. I missed the fresh air and the soapy smell of mountain grass. I needed to be here. 

I was also needed here. With my parents getting older and my younger sister having a family of her own in her cozy city home, I became a maid, a receptionist, a cook, a webmaster and an occasional mountain guide. My parents don’t speak English. Well, not much, anyway. They know a few phrases, so they can greet our visitors and ask them about their day, secretly praying that they wouldn’t really want to answer those questions. Most of them don’t…unless they’re young and handsome. Those talk to me, though. 

We didn’t have any foreign visitors at first, but later they slowly started coming. It was my sister’s job to take care of them at first, with me being away most of the time back then. But later, with three young kids, she couldn’t – and no longer wanted to – keep doing that any longer. So I came back and took over. 

In August, the holiday season is in full swing. I didn’t have a day off since early July and really needed to get out and clear my mind a bit. I can’t stay in town all summer, not when the paradise is literally just a few steps away. This morning seemed like a perfect opportunity. There were no planned checkouts for today, I already managed to get all the rooms for all the new expected guests cleaned and ready the day before and most of them were locals, with one Slovak family arriving later in the afternoon. Dad should be able to take care of that. 

While I was sipping my morning coffee, I checked the mailbox one last time just to be sure everything would be taken care of while I was away, only to discover there were two new last minute reservations. Kováčová…some Slovak lady with two more people who wouldn’t arrive until later in the afternoon, room 8. That one’s also ready. I vacuum-cleaned it two days ago. So, that should be OK. Aaand, the attic room for…some Kiszka. Perfect. I took one last sip, grabbed my backpack and was ready to go. 

Agnieszka wasn’t in a hurry, knowing too well that her muscles would hurt like hell the next day if she didn’t take it easy. She was fit enough to set a much faster pace, but this was not a workout. Not today. In mid august, the former sheep pastures in Hala Gasienicowa were in full bloom and covered in violet. It was also a rather steep route that led there so even though she reached the place at half past nine, she could already feel a familiar burning sensation in her calves. 

This was a perfect place for late breakfast. Yesterday’s wind was gone and once she got past the tree line, the sun was already high up in the sky, warming her skin enough to let her shed all the unnecessary layers of clothing. “Bathing in the breeze” was her favourite pastime. There was no better way to describe it. It was also still early enough to be able to enjoy the calmness of this place, which would be buzzing with life only an hour or so later as more people arrived. 

It was already past noon when she reached the borderline ridge at a beautiful spot called “Lily Saddle” that separated High and Western Tatras – her final destination for the day. Most people aim for peaks, but she always loved mountain saddles and ridge routes. Reaching them wasn’t easy. You always had to overcome steep, rocky and often exposed tracks to get there. By the time you reached the saddle, you were high on endorphins and adrenaline, your whole body overheated from exertion, only to be greeted by icy wind that kept rumbling up there even during the hottest days of the year, sometimes tossing you from side to side like a rag doll. It was like falling in love…

She usually felt at peace here, even when she had to literally wrestle with the element. Not today. Today, she felt agitated. It started further down the road and intensified exponentially as she reached the saddle. She contemplated going further west along the ridge to calm her nerves a bit, when her telephone rang. It took her a while to find it in her bag, but the caller seemed super determined. 

“Dad?”

“Neszka, where are you? An American just arrived… Apparently, he’s got a reservation. I need to house him.”

That must have been a mistake, she went through the reservations. Someone probably arrived at the wrong hotel. There were several of them called Villa Something Something in Zakopane… 

“Daddy, that’s impossible. I double checked. We’re expecting a small German group on Saturday, but otherwise no foreign guests.”

“I’m not making this up. He’s here in front of me and I see him in our reservation system as well.”

“Name?”

“Joshua Kiszka.” 

Fuck… That was probably why she felt so uneasy? Never underestimate your gut. Her subconsciousness knew she fucked up. 

“Ok, get him on the phone.” She took a deep breath, expecting an outpouring of anger, the person on the other side berating her and demanding an explanation. Some people had the weirdest reasons for complaints and refund reasons, and this situation clearly was her fault. 

Instead, the voice belonging to a young man sounded amused. He, too, tried to explain the situation he found himself in, even though there was no need for him to explain anything. With the wind gushing and roaring around and the service being shitty up here, she couldn’t even hear him properly, so – after what she hoped was the most heartfelt apology she could deliver – she tried to make it as brief as possible. 

“Ok, listen, my father – that’s the man you tried to talk to – my dad will show you your room. Just…. make yourself comfortable, there’s a large garden behind the villa and free beverages in the fridge outside your room… You will find it with ease… And I’ll be there in three hours at the very worst. Then I’ll show you around and will tell you everything you need to know.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t slept much at night so I’ll probably just take a nap. All I need is a bed to lie on…if it’s ready,” he chuckled again.

Fuck. With that, she took a few big gulps of water and started descending. 

It was past four in the afternoon when she got back home, hot and sweating and out of breath, but the shower could wait. She stopped briefly by the kitchen to ask dad how well it went and then headed straight to the attic floor, taking stairs two at a time. She knocked on the door and…nothing. She had to repeat it two more times – at least it gave her the opportunity to catch her breath – before the door finally creaked open. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry I kept you waiti…oh!”

The man who answered the door was unlike anything she had expected. He was approximately the same height as her, slender, not overly muscular but still well toned. She could tell quite easily, because he was in fact naked from the waist up, rubbing his sleepy eyes and smiling at her while still trying to shake off the post nap confusion. 

She didn’t realize that she was staring until he spoke, and took a few steps back inside the room, basically letting her in. “Uh, oh, sorry, it’s a bit hot here under the roof, he chuckled again as he picked up a basic t-shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head. “And you must be the charming lady I spoke to on the phone earlier?” 

He looked like someone straight from DaVinci’s painting…if DaVinci lived in some arty, boho community instead of a 15th century Milan: fine features, rosy cheeks, kind yet mysterious eyes, plump lips and soft curls with trimmed sides and a messy braid that ended between his shoulder blades, decorated with a tiny shell. 

“Uuuh, yeah, yes, that’s me. I tried to get here as soon as possible, but it took longer than I expected and…”

“Please, don’t apologize. I see you went hiking. So cool! It must have been absolutely fabulous up there today. You must certainly give me some tips. Where to go, what to see... I heard how beautiful it is here. Saw some pictures too. But I’ve never been here, so I absolutely don’t know what to expect. I will need to buy some clothes and other essentials as well, this was a last minute decision. I helped myself to a beverage from that fridge, by the way. I hope it’s ok. I had peach iced tea…,” he kept on rambling as he tried to clean up the room that already looked lived-in even though he had been here for only a few hours. 

She watched him, completely bewildered. But she already liked him. He was cute and wild and kind of sexy. Strange, but with a pretty face. Two weeks. He’s alone…yeah, and you’re sweaty, red faced and you stink, you idiot!

“…me around?” 

She realized he was still talking, when put her back to earth. “What?” That chuckle again…

“You told me you’d show me around. I got my key, I know where the drinks are, I saw the garden, it’s fanTAStic, by the way…so, what else do I need to know?” he asked cheekily. 

That put her back into her professional mode. She explained that she wouldn’t clean the room more that once a week unless he would specifically ask her to do so, privacy being held in high regard here…; she showed him where to find extra toilet paper and fresh towels, where to throw the dirty ones; she showed him the kitchen he had to share with several other rooms, told him about free tea and coffee and that he shouldn’t bother with washing the dishes, he should just leave them in the sink and she would take care of it. She also told him where to buy everything he needed and she had to bite her lip a few times when he absentmindedly touched her arm. 

Later in the early evening, Agnieszka still couldn't shake off that unfamiliar restlessness she felt back up on the ridge. It lay heavy on her chest, compressing her lungs. She tried to read, but it was no use. Reading was a distraction fit for dark and rainy evenings, but the cloudless sky didn’t want the night to take over just yet. Even here, among steep hills where the sun sets early, the skies were still ultramarine blue and… vast. 

The warm light on her bedside table wasn’t enough to disperse the magic of the blue hour. Instead of trying to reread the same paragraph for the third time, she put the book down and opened the window to let the cool and fragrant air in. 

As soon as the scent of pines and freshly mown grass hit her nostrils, she also heard a soft hum coming from below. Looking down, she saw him sitting on a wooden garden table, with his feet on the bench. He had his back to her, sipping beer, his fingers rapping on the withered wood. He was also the source of that slow melody. 

It reminded her of Dominik. He used to sit by the fireside, farther back in the garden. His guitar was often out of tune and people made fun of him, but he always just smiled and continued to play. It often baffled her that he didn’t mind, because it sounded awful, and he must have heard it. The man could sing! 

Apparently, so could Joshua, but it was something completely different. Dominik’s voice was low and thick, and when he hummed her favourite songs, such as Sad Eyes, it often made her drowsy. Joshua sounded like the girls singing old local folk songs about dying from a broken heart. She had never heard anything like that. He sang silently, as he obviously did not want to disturb the calmness of dusk, as well as other guests behind their own open windows. Yet it made her heart flutter in her throat. 

She watched, entranced, how his breath animated the muscles of his lean back, covered only in sheer white cotton in spite of the air getting increasingly chillier with every passing minute. 

Agnieszka tried to lean out the window a bit more, which made the shutter crash against the wall, causing him to look her way. She panicked and ducked under the sill. Realizing how childish it must have appeared, she slowly straightened and saw him still looking in her direction, smiling. He gestured to the second can of beer standing on the table next to him and silently motioned her to join him. 

She took a deep breath and nodded. She grabbed her cardigan, closed the window and went out to join him, oblivious to the fact that the way down the stairs and out the back entrance which led straight to the garden was in reality a steep, rocky road to ruin. 

@writingcold @its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @edgingthedarkness @thewritingbeforesunrise @myownparadise96 @lvnterninthenight

...and because you reblogged the teaser, this might interest you, too: @klarxtr @jakesleftankle @itsafullmoon @woyayaofdreams @pasionatematty @zoelle16 @tripthelightfantastix This is just for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #Spotify

[katuschka]

Sans caption. Just a sketch.

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #fanart #fan art #drawing #greta van art #gvf art #greta van fleet fanart

[katuschka]

A new and revised masterlist is here, folks...

Everything listed in here is a work of FICTION, intended for adult readers, so if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

I create and post GVF fan art as well, however, it's no longer included in my new masterpost (Here's the old one, if you're curious). If you want to be notified when I post a new drawing, join the taglist, too. There's a special option just for that.

Taglist

Usually Sexual – Josh Kiszka x male OC (2300+ words)

Tom&Jerry series – Josh Kiszka x male OC

A Rollercoaster Ride with Tom&Jerry (8000+ words)

U-Turn (coming soon...)

Olalla – Josh Kiszka x female OC (x Jake Kiszka)

teaser

Chapter 01 - coming soon

Olalla – (Josh Kiszka x) female OC x Jake Kiszka

teaser

Chapter 01 - coming soon

Olalla – Josh Kiszka x female OC x Jake Kiszka

teaser

Chapter 01 - coming soon

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #fan art #jake gvf #greta van art #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van smut #greta van fic #greta van angst #fanart #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #gvf art

[katuschka]

jeff

josh

[katuschka]

Olalla

Josh Kiszka x female OC (x Jake Kiszka)

"I'm not gonna lie, I started hating you. I couldn't stand myself for it, but I also couldn't help it. You left me, went there without me, and brought her into our lives... but she was yours and she loved you. Watching you both fall apart broke my heart for you, but the devil in me rejoiced...until I realized that I might never see her again either, because she loved you. Then I hated you even more."

He looked at his best man, who was still crouching on the armchair, elbows resting on his knees. He didn't look up, still toying with that cuff in silence, but there was no denying that the words had stung. Hate. Even though it was something they both knew, it had never been said. But that's not how the story ends, it's not today's song. There was more on his mind, he already felt it sitting on his tongue...

"I thank you brother. This has been a rough path we all took, but you brought her into my life in the end...and I'm forever grateful. Now there are two people that I love more than life. The world may be burning, but our hearts are full, so we'll survive. We will thrive. I'm a lucky man."

Oh Olalla more than a name  Rest your eyes and stay in the shade  You were hiding over the hill In a quiet never so still 

From Olalla to the city lights  Somebody told me to believe in better times 

Oh Olalla where will you go  If the line ends out on the road  There's a story meant to be told  But the door has shut in the cold 

Oh Olalla on the borderline  There is a world down on it's knees for better times  Oh Olalla don't you fear the night  There's only time left to believe  To Believe

(Blanco White)

@its-interesting-van-kleep @fleet-of-fiction @thewritingbeforesunrise @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic

[katuschka]

A Rollercoaster Ride with Tom&Jerry

Josh Kiszka x male OC (1st person narrative) 8.014 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: intense and confusing emotions; swear words; both verbal and physical fights; oral sex; anal sex (surprise, surprise, it's about two guys); toys; choking&gagging&some spanking; BDSM; ...so you see, it's not for everyone. This is basically a story about finding and re-establishing mutual trust. It involves conflict. Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned. So if you have any doubts that you're gonna be able to handle it, proceed with caution. Big thanks goes to: 1. @edgingthedarkness for making an illustrative short video (you're gonna find it inside the story below) that should make the whole experience even juicier! 2. all my beta-readers and cheerleaders, especially @writingcold, @edgingthedarkness, @its-interesting-van-kleep and @thewritingbeforesunrise. Cheers, guys.

I've got some things to say 'Cause there's a lot that you don't know It's written on my face It's gonna be hard to swallow (P!nk)

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?” 

I sighed. Yeah, no shit. There was actually so much I wanted to say to him ever since the show ended, I just couldn’t figure out how to do that without sounding like a jealous little girl. My mind was absolutely racing and when that happens, the connection between my brain and my mouth just gets cut off completely. It’s a serious condition, really. Commonly known as “sulking.” 

I often accompany him on tour, but I try to avoid live shows. I have my reasons. Hundreds of them. I agreed to be there for the last few concerts, which I now deeply regretted. 

It had been a really busy and eventful week; me, myself and I getting increasingly irritated – by everything, but mostly him – as the days went by, and tonight’s events felt like the last straw. Part of me wanted to be finally alone with him, and another part just wanted to be alone. So, as a result, I just tried to avoid him. I had kept to myself while watching him down his beer as the band enjoyed their aftershow high back in the green room. No one else seemed to pay attention to me, and for that I was glad. Now we were sitting in a car on our way back to the hotel room, and the confrontation that I’d tried to avoid seemed inevitable. 

As much as I pretended to be interested in the night scenery behind the window, it was impossible to ignore him any longer. Sadly, it was equally impossible to pretend that everything was ok and the idea that we could resolve it soon seemed pretty absurd. He was still in his stage outfit, bare chest in full display, absentmindedly scratching the skin right below his left nipple. Much to my dismay, he smelled divine, too. Warm and musky from the exertion, still with a faint hint of vanilla and cedar. AND he was obviously completely clueless. 

“You know Josh, you make it really hard sometimes...” 

Well, shit. I realized what I just did even before I finished the sentence. The instant smirk on his face told me that it was a really bad word choice and I regretted it immediately. I really wished that he would take it seriously this time. But he was still exhilarated and unnaturally restless, even to his standards. He literally couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in his seat, rapping his knuckles on a windowsill, giggling at nothing in particular…and I’d swear I even heard a moan when the car accidentally hit a curb. If I didn’t know him, I would say that he was high, but I knew he would never do that while performing. 

“Yeah, I often do, don’t I darling.” He turned to me and pouted playfully, his chin resting on his fist. “...but you’re never quiet when that happens, so why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you.” He was looking at me now, the lower lip between his teeth again, eyelids half closed. Cheeky bastard. 

What I really meant was – and he just proved my point again, by the way – that it was hard to keep the conversation serious when he was like that. And he was like that most of the fucking time. Everyone loved him for it, and that was the problem, because he just didn’t hesitate to love them all back. Not only was this his nature, but what is more, he was required to do that. A people pleaser, an entertainer…I was no longer pleased, nor entertained, though. 

I knew what I signed up for when we started seeing each other. Granted, I didn’t know who he was – or what he was – when we first met in that rally more than three years ago. He was just a beautiful boy with the eyes of a winking doll and a golden halo bouncing around his head. In a crowd of other nameless, faceless and anonymous people, he exuded blinding light. Am I too sentimental? If you were there, you’d surely understand. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. After staring at him for at least fifteen minutes, I dared to lift my camera up to take a picture just as the wind blew a few disheveled locks into his face. He immediately noticed. His brows furrowed and his eyes squinted at me, but they were warm and I could tell he was smiling behind his mask, even though apprehensively. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” “Why did you do that?” If I had thought that it couldn’t get any worse, I was sorely mistaken. The sultry voice that came from behind that black piece of cloth didn’t match his overall appearance. It made my dick twitch though, and I had to hear it again, so I decided to come clear about it, because he was already turning away again, not really interested in my answer. As if having his pictures taken was something that happened everyday. Yeah, as if. But…

Believe it or not, I just told him I thought he was beautiful. Right there on that street. I don’t normally do shit like that. To this day, I still don’t understand what got into me. It was blunt and impudent and no doubt a bit weird, and I expected him to tell me to fuck off. 

But instead, he blushed. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” 

I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if he was just playing along. Or even mocking me. But I had to seize the opportunity by the hair. “I’m Tom.” What else to say, right?

“Josh.”

That’s it. That’s how Tom met Josh. We talked a lot that day. He was cute and funny and I just couldn’t get enough of that voice, which is never a good sign. You shouldn’t let yourself get addicted to people. It’s dangerous and he was very addictive. Later that day, when we left the crowd behind and he put the mask down to reveal his full, rosy lips, I should have run. But I didn’t. I let him use those lips to chain me to him just as they enveloped my dick.

Since then, there was not one single day when I wouldn’t think about that mouth. It only got worse when that sleepy pout became the first thing I saw almost every time I opened my eyes in the morning during that summer. Our relationship started as a strictly sexual one, not because we wanted it that way, but simply because arousal and excitement came first, and there was nothing else to do. We skipped dating and dived head first in the sheets. The world had slowed down, the future looked hazy, and we were just bored. OK, I admit, I was bored. His life wasn’t boring at all. Not even then. I got sucked into it pretty soon (pun absolutely intended). He made me fall for him before we even realized what was happening, and it was brutally intense. And it was also mutual. 

I soon learned what it really meant to be part of that world. Our secret summer of love ended and reality hit. I went completely offline, partly because I was not interested in being hunted down by hysterical chicks, but mostly because he didn’t want them to know. You know what I mean. I didn’t really care that much myself, but I also understood. 

If you’re into traveling, and if you ever followed @tomontheroad on Instagram and wondered why it just vanished one day, wonder no more. Yes, it was me. You probably didn’t even notice though, because in late 2020, it had already been dead for months anyway. 

That’s just how it was. To keep the life we shared safe, I became an invisible nobody, which made it almost impossible for me to do my job, but I somehow managed. Meanwhile, he was there in the spotlight, adored by thousands, making their pussies and dreams wet. I was never to be seen. I agreed to all that, gladly, even though it was gradually getting worse. They started touring again, and that was when I saw his full potential, wrapped in velvet. He was their Pied Piper, playing his flute just as he played his vocals. I still didn’t mind. It was all worth it. I thought it was, at least. As soon as we closed the doors behind us, a brand new universe opened before me. Behind the closed doors, I was a traveler again, a tireless explorer. Every inch and every curve of his body was a land full of miracles and pleasures. A wondrous landscape. Every valley, a new home for me. Every peak, a place that revealed brand new horizons. Who needed tropical white sands when his warm skin was the perfect place to lay your head, the sound of his heart more calming than the humming of sea waves. I simply loved him. 

I learned to live with the fact that I had a boyfriend that hundreds of people wanted to fuck, but it was me who actually did. They were mere voyeurs, standing outside the shopping window, ogling hungrily all the delicious desserts on display, which only I had the privilege to taste. I kept telling myself that I was the lucky one. 

And you know what? That’s complete and utter bullshit. I keep doing this to myself. Lying to myself. I hadn’t learned to live with it at all. Granted, we had these conversations before, and all of them ended with me telling him it was fine. Everything was fine. I spent nearly two fucking years trying to convince myself that I was completely ok with all of this and just this evening I realized how much it was really bothering me. 

Today he crossed the fucking line. The feeling that lurked somewhere in the back of my mind now reared its ugly head and I felt like I reached my limits. 

I said I was there for the show. I actually never really get to see it, because I myself can’t be seen. It had been months since I last watched their concert and this past week I just waited for him in the green room. But tonight he insisted that I be there. I finally agreed, even though it really meant just lurking by the side, under the stage level with the staff, watching what was going on onstage on the monitor with Steve who’s in charge of big screens. 

The camera loved him. And he loved it back, losing himself in the moment as he got high on the music they made. The audience was losing it too, screaming in frenzy because he made them feral. It all looked just like one big orgy. I had seen it many times before, that’s why I didn’t really want to be there, but I still couldn’t get my eyes off that screen. I was very familiar with all those faces he made. I had heard those moans before, I had watched him arch his back just like that before, the way he bit his lip, how his brows furrowed… I could tell he got bolder with it over time. I was mesmerized, but there was one big problem. The whole arena was watching this with me now, equally enchanted, but he was interacting with them and I felt unwelcome. I had seen some pictures, watched two or three shorts, but nothing could prepare me for this. 

He ran down the stage a few times that evening, waved at me the first time, blew me a kiss a moment later, but as the evening progressed, I suddenly felt like losing him. It was an unwelcome surge of panic and just when I thought I got it under control, he ran past me and the next thing I saw on the screen was him right at the barricade, letting himself be hugged and groped by all those random people. I had enough. I couldn’t breathe. I excused myself and ran to the green room to pour myself a generous amount of whiskey. 

Fast forward back to where we were, in the car on our way back to the hotel. “Not here,” I retorted. “Later.” The rest of the ride was tense. He kept looking sideways at me, I kept being extremely absorbed in examining the hem of my shirt. As soon as the door of our shared apartment closed behind us, he confronted me. 

“So, we’re here. Care to explain why you’ve been behaving like such an insufferable bitch tonight?”

“Oh that’s rich, Joshua. By all means feel free to make it aaaall about my behavior again. Nothing wrong with you acting like an insolent and inconsiderate slut!” 

“Inconsiderate…” He looked as if I just punched him. 

“Yes!” I hissed, “inconsiderate! You know, it’s funny how you find this worth reacting…but not the fact that I just called you a slut.”

He just laughed and shook his head in disbelief as he headed straight to the minibar to pour  himself a drink. “Well,” he trilled, “you didn’t shake the bitch allegations either, my love. At least I’m fun to be around.” 

I just huffed and went towards the balcony to open the glass door. I really needed some fresh air. “Yeah, I’m not amused. But you don’t seem to mind. You were having a really good time there, with their hideous, overlong nails scratching your tits. Or when you were moaning into the microphone, almost pretending that you were fucking them all.” With that, I collapsed on the couch. 

“So what do you want me to do to amuse you? You want me to fuck you? Let’s fuck in earnest, no pretending.  Will that make it better? Do you want me to show you what and who I’m REALLY thinking about when their nails scratch my skin?”

“No Josh, you fucking me wouldn’t really sort out anything I’m afraid, because right now I feel like you’re fucking with me all the fucking time. I want to claim you, because I love the way you’re looking at me when I’m deep inside you and when you have to bite your lower lip just to stop it from quivering, you know. Not only because I really, really love that sight, but also because only then I feel like I’m the only person on your radar. And that’s what I need now.”

He watched me avidly, with his head slightly tilted and his expression almost unreadable, except for the obvious arousal that was silently flowing through his whole body, and I swear you could see it glimmering behind his pupils. I definitely could see it in his tight pants. I would lie if I said that I wasn’t aroused. Truth be told, I needed to fuck him, badly. We could continue bitching about each other’s behavior later. For now, angry fuck would do…

He put his glass down and slowly took off his sun jacket, all without breaking eye contact. It was like watching him in slow motion, when he palmed his hardening dick through the white satin, squeezed it briefly and then stroked it gently a few times. He loved this. He was a born entertainer, always ready to please the audience. I couldn’t help but admire the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. I was his audience now, and I had to admit to myself that this was a completely different show. 

“Ok, that’s convenient, because I’d really love you to finish what I started.” 

I had no clue what he was talking about and watched him – flabbergasted – as he turned around, pulled his pants down and bent over to unfasten the cuffs around his ankles. That’s when I saw it. A little sparkly gem between his buttcheeks. I recognised the tiny steel buttplug with a faceted stone immediately, even though we hadn’t used it much. I gave it to him for Christmas, and later he joked that it really fit the Starcatcher aesthetics, so maybe he should wear it with the rest of his jewelry, but I didn’t really expect him to actually do it!

“Josh…did you have it in for the whole show?” I tried to keep it cool, but the words only came out as a breathy whisper. He only chuckled and stretched like a cat to relieve his stiff muscles. He was still acting, completely naked now, exaggerating every move just to torture me. 

“No, darling. I wanted to, but they would have seen it under the jumpsuit. It’s quite tight, isn’t it. No, I put it in for es-tee-tee. Colors, gems and trim, darling. Now, let’s take a shower first. And close your mouth, or else I’ll fill it.” And with that he strutted into the bathroom without even waiting for me, shaking that tiny bejeweled ass just for the show. He knew that I would follow. He already had me in his grasp, metaphorically speaking. 

We often showered together. That was our personal habit, both at home or when I accompanied him on his travels. It was always our sweet moment of seclusion in his otherwise busy schedule. Very intimate, but not always blatantly sexual. Of course, sometimes it WAS blatantly sexual, but oftentimes we just talked a lot, kissed a lot, washed each other’s hair, just took care of each other. Just tracing my fingers down his spine was enough to help me forget about the gloomy world beyond our walls. Not to mention being inside his walls, but I digress…

I took my time. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of following him like a pet dog, so I stripped slowly, took a few more sips of my drink and walked indolently into the bathroom. Just for the show. I expected him to wait for me by the counter, but he didn’t. He was already in the shower, steam already filling the room. I slid the glass door open and started. He was standing there, right under the stream, facing the door, his eyes boring into me. He was quite a sight, too. Not having bothered with the stage makeup, the streaks of smudged eyeliner were now running down his cheeks, over the remaining rhinestones. Wet hair already flattened and pulled back. This was intentional. He was still provoking me. 

We just observed each other warily before he broke the silence and asked me nonchalantly if I could just wash his back. I gestured to him to turn around and did as he asked. I poured the vanilla-scented body wash in my hands and soaped his body with it, just like I always did. And just like he always did, he started talking about the events of the day. Some tiktok video they filmed after the soundcheck that I didn’t care about. 

His tone was completely casual, in spite of the fact that I held his balls firmly in my hand, gently massaging them with my soap-covered hand. I let my other hand travel slowly down his left buttcheek towards that little surprise he had there for me previously. 

“So tell me, Josh. Why this?” 

I watched him smile at the question. His previous restlessness suddenly made perfect sense. The whole time I was sulking and worrying about us, about his behavior and his intentions, he was just getting himself off. I took the bejeweled plug in my fingers and twisted it gently. He arched his back and moaned softly. I just loved listening to him. His lovely mouth could elicit the most delicious high-pitched whimpers. So I did it again. This time, his head landed on my shoulder, exposing his neck to me. I let my nose brush against my favorite place right under his earlobe. This was dangerous territory. Everytime I let myself wander through the smooth valleys of his lithe body, I was close to losing my mind, and he knew it. He was narcotic. Normally, it just meant that earth-shattering sex would follow, but I needed to stay focused, because I had to resolve this first: “Fucking tell me, Josh,” I hissed.

“I…I like to keep myself perked up, my love. I can’t go onstage…oh, yes, thee-e-e-ere…I can’t go onstage drunk, or high…dammit…that would, aaah would be unprofessional, yeah?” He chuckled.  “So I just keep myself turned-on instead. It’s good for the show.”

“For the show, eh? You’re a liar.”

“No…no-ah, I’m not lying, dear. I keep myself turned on…and when I feel the rhythm in my bones and when I let the… the melody soar through my veins, I imagine your dick inside me. Or your fingers. Aaaall because they lo-oooh-love seeing me like that. So you see, it’s good for the show. They can feel it. Our love. Just…genuine…love. The feeling is omnipresent…and I want to share it.”

The insolence! “You see Josh, that’s the problem,” I whispered while my teeth grazed his jugular, “I don’t want to share it.”

With that, he turned around and kissed me gently, letting the tip of his tongue just brush against mine. With his left hand stroking the nape of my neck, his right palm slowly wandered down my torso, fingertips lightly grazing my left nipple, and further down, until he had me in his grasp, now literally speaking. I fell under his spell again, utterly and completely, and I no longer wanted to fight it. I had to remind myself that tonight was supposed to be my night, that I was supposed to be in control, but I was slowly losing it anyway. He sensed it, and generously put me back on track, while still jerking me off. 

“Honey, this is us. This is just us. I share the miracle, you see? That’s my job. But you don’t share me with anyone. You own me!” 

Oh yeah, that worked. His words felt like a detonator. Perhaps more than he had intended them to. I’m sure they were partly meant to soothe me, but something really snapped in me and all those pent-up emotions suddenly begged to be released. I lost all my remaining mental clarity and acted upon it without really thinking. I pushed him against the wall and firmly wrapped my hand around his throat. His head hit the tiles with a dull thud and even though my own actions took me by surprise and I saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes, I couldn’t stop. I kept him pinned to the wall with my thigh pushing his legs apart. He belonged to me, and I needed him to understand it.

I’m not the world’s strongest man, but I’m bigger than him. Three inches taller, and I could overpower him without much difficulty. That’s why I had always been rather gentle with him, even though he’s a hotheaded bastard and always fights back like a mad chihuahua. Not this time. He just watched me with those doe-like eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, while his hands just rested on my chest. I barely felt the touch. He was a meek lamb, a rag doll, but his face told me a different story. I could see his previously bewildered expression transform into a defiant one. He tilted his chin up, nostrils flared. He was daring me, breathing heavily and waiting for my next move.  

“Damn right I do! Fuck, you’re mine,” I growled and tightened my grip on his neck, while my other hand kneaded his left buttock.  

He whimpered and I recognized the sound. I’d heard it many times before. Everytime I pounded into him with feral force, when I pulled his hair, or when I smacked his ass, because that was the only part of his body I ever dared to leave a mark on. 

“You like this, you little fucker.”

He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly through his nose. I could feel his semi spring up and twitch against my thigh. I could tell just by his fingertips now clawing at my chest that he really did. But I needed to hear it. 

“Answer me!” 

“Yeah,” he finally breathed out and our eyes met again. 

We were both very sensual people, but never overly violent with each other. It’s not that the idea never crossed my mind, because I really like rough fuck. Sue me. I’d had my fair share of “tough love” during the time spent with my previous lovers. Truth be told, he was often pushing my buttons, and it took all my willpower not to act. All smiles and sunshine on the outside, he could be an insufferable brat sometimes. I just always had to remind myself that I couldn’t leave a mark, even though his own nails frequently branded me with scratches. But that was it. It was part of the deal. I treated him like my pampered darling, even at times when I just had to shut him up with a gag… some occassional BD sans SM, that’s how we rolled. It just occurred to me that treating him like that might have been a mistake. I just had to make sure that he was really agreeing to this.

I let go of his neck and let my fingers travel up his jaw and into his wet hair, all without breaking eye contact. We were watching each other intently, trying to communicate without words, searching for clues. I cradled his head in my hands, my fingers massaging the back of his head. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. 

“Does it hurt?” 

He shook his head silently. I placed a trail of short kisses up his neck until I reached his earlobe and nibbled on it gently. I felt him pull me closer to him as he pressed his fingertips convulsively into the flesh on my hips until it almost hurt.

“Are you ok?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded and rubbed his nose against my cheek. A brief moment of tenderness was exactly what we both needed to reassess our position. Now it was the time to remind him of his role…

“Fine, on your knees!” I pushed him down, perhaps with not enough force, because it did not wipe that defiant look off his face, but I was well aware of the fact that he also still had that thing deep inside him. I was pumped, but not reckless. He was now kneeling right under the shower stream, small rivulets of water running down his face as he looked up at me, blinking. I had to take a deep breath not to cum just from the sight.  

“Open your mouth.”

…and he didn’t. Because he knew. That dastardly sneer of his is going to be the end of me one day, but I usually tolerate it. Not only because it’s hot as fuck, but also because it tells me he knows what I need. Or better yet, what he makes me need…and crave. I certainly hadn’t known that I needed my head to be treated like a lollypop until he taught me it was what I craved. Parting his lips ever so slightly, it just rested on them until he darted his tongue out into the slit, savoring every little drop of my precum. He had this habit of looking up at me when he was doing this, because he knew it was driving me crazy. 

So that’s what he was doing. Licking at my glans, watching me, daringly. I wasn’t having it. Enough of this game. I grabbed his head and buried my cock in the back of his throat. He gagged on it violently, darting his head backwards. I was still holding his head in both of my hands, though, and pushed him back, fucking his mouth in ferocious speed until he tapped on my thigh. Only then I released my grasp, watching him gasp for air. He looked up at me again, and whispered: “More.” 

And more he got. Oh god, that was so sexy, him literally begging me to choke him with my dick. I adjusted my pace, sliding in and out of those full, swollen lips. Grabbing my butt with both his hands, he urged me to go deeper, to fill him up, to obstruct his airway passage again. He tried to relax, letting my cock glide smoothly on his velvet tongue. I was getting close, dangerously close, but I wasn’t done with him yet. His mouth was perfect, but I needed more. 

Before I stopped, I grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pushed him down my shaft and held him there for a while, until I felt his throat contract and his body convulsed. Another gag, another gasp. I let go and tilted his chin up lightly with my index finger. The running water quickly washed away the thick strings of saliva and the tears, but he still looked a mess, exhausted and tamed. He was also very hard, his eyes not the only thing looking at me. He loved this. A wave of tenderness washed over me again. Damn, it was always like this with him. A real rollercoaster of feelings. 

“Come here, my filthy princess.” 

I grabbed him by the arms, pushed him up on his feet again and pulled him into a tight embrace. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine, deep breaths interspersed with intermittent, barely audible chuckles. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Not funny, just…exhilarating.” 

My good boy. He deserved a reward. I bowed down and ran a few circles around his hardened nipple with the tip of my tongue, because he loved that. You might think I’m too soft, but this is what makes the experience really intense. I was still pissed, and full of adrenaline, but it was all because I loved him so much, and I needed him to feel it all. I ran my fingers down his spine, scratching his skin with my nails, perhaps more than necessary. But it was necessary. With the actual words still stuck in my throat, the touch was my language now. He looked at me again with a sweet smile, the tip of his tongue grazing his upper lip.

“So…now that it’s settled and I promise to be good, are you going to do that thing, darling?”

“That thing” meant me sucking his dick with my fingers knuckles deep in his ass. “Yeah, baby, you’ve earned it,” I stroked his cheek with my right hand while the left one traveled down right between his asscheeks...”let’s pull this out, then?” He nodded and turned around, resting his elbows against the tiles. It was my turn to get down on my knees. Yeah, I hear you, not very dominant of me, but you need to understand that this man has got the most fabulous ass I’ve ever seen, and I swear I’m gonna kiss and bite and spread and lick it any time I get the opportunity to do so. 

I put some shower gel on my fingers and circled them around the plug. “Try to relax.”

“I know,” he spat impatiently through his teeth. That earned him a smack on his right buttock. Brat. I pulled the plug out gently, eliciting a long, breathy and relieved moan from him. I massaged the opening a bit, washing the rest of the soap out, before I grabbed him with both hands to spread him a bit more for me. What a glorious view. I buried my face in it and darted my tongue out. 

“Oh god,” he breathed out as I licked into him. 

The flowing water was starting to get on my nerves so I turned it off before I turned him around to face me. It was now my turn to taste his leaking tip. A few swift cat licks made him clutch at my shoulders tight and he almost lost his balance when I swallowed him whole. I reached behind him and gently pushed my middle finger inside him while my head bobbed up and down his dick. I pushed my finger deeper, curled it towards me and set a steady rhythm of my movements. 

His breath suddenly quickened and I could feel him pulsate on my tongue. It was a matter of mere seconds. No. I stopped, retreated abruptly and stood up. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he was gaping at me in disbelief. I just smiled at him maliciously. He thought he could play with me, so let’s make this a shared experience. 

“What the hell?!?” My plan worked perfectly. He practically shouted it at me. He was furious. Cute. 

“I haven’t come yet, so what on earth made you think that I would let YOU, “ I smirked.

“Fuck you!” he pushed me aside forcefully and stormed out of the shower, heading back into the bedroom. Dripping wet, he slipped on the floor and almost fell, which gave me more time to react. 

I ran after him. “Hey, where the fuck are yo…ouch!” The fucker slammed the bathroom door right in my face. I threw it open again with force, triyng to catch him. He was just by the bed when I reached out for his hair and yanked him back, making his back collide with my chest. “Ouch, that hurt, you bastard!” he yelled as he tried to break free from my grasp, squirming, but he stood no chance. 

“Do you want me to stop?” I hissed in his ear. 

“No…” Good. I pushed him face down on the bed, grabbed his wrists and held them firmly behind his back. I needed him to stay that way, so I searched the ground for something I could use. My eyes spotted a bathrobe that I tossed over the armchair earlier that day. Perfect. “Don’t move!” I got off him for a while to get what I needed. He looked over his shoulder, watching me as I pulled the belt out of the loops. He didn’t move, lying face down by the edge of the bed, ass up. My obedient baby.

I grabbed his wrists again and showed him the belt, making it obvious what I was going to do. “You ok with this?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

I nodded, tied his wrists behind his back and went searching for the lube. “I’m going to fuck you now, and I’m not going to be gentle about it. If it becomes too much, or you just want me to stop, just say stop. Do you understand?

“Yes.” 

“Fine. Oh, here it is.” I squeezed a generous amount of the lube on my fingers and put two of them to his asshole, rubbing it in circles before I pushed them in slowly. He was already almost ready from before, but I needed him to relax a bit more. “Now listen, I will let you cum this time. No monkey business. But I want the same from you. If you wanna cum, you’re going to behave. You’re going to beg for it. Understand?” I added a third finger and he whimpered and bit his lip, huffing. I was getting impatient. “Do-you-under-stand!?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yes, I understand. Fuck me please. I’ll behave.”

I withdrew, slapped his butt, rubbed the remaining lube all over my cock, positioned myself and… pushed in. I had to focus all of my self-control on not pushing all the way in. He was so tight and warm and inviting, and I was all worked-up. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but I just couldn’t get enough of it at the same time. His quick and shallow breaths told me that he felt pretty much the same. After several languid thrusts during which we both somehow managed to regain our composure and I quickened my pace. I grabbed his bound wrists in one hand and held his head down with the other. The room was filled with our synched moans and the slapping sound of our flesh colliding. I couldn’t get enough of him.

I grabbed his ass and slammed into him with full force. He cried out and begged me for more. His profile was absolutely entrancing, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open, his melodic whines in sync with my thrusts. I needed to see more of it, so I unbound his wrists, pulled out and turned him over. 

I grabbed his ankles instead and forced his legs up, before I buried myself in him again. My heart was beating wildly. I felt the poisonous cocktail of all the previously suppressed and boiling emotions fill my veins as the pleasure overcame my senses. “Look at me!” He watched me, bewildered, while I rammed into him, sweaty and almost out of breath. Suddenly all I could hear were my own labored grunts, while he just stared at me, wide-eyed and speechless. 

“Cat got your tongue, hm? Always so…eloquent…with…them all…but not one…spare word…for your dirty little secret!” 

Adrenaline running in my veins, I continued pounding into him and almost missed the sudden shift in his mood and movements. 

“Tom…”

It was barely a whisper at first, but soon he became more and more agitated. “Tom…Tom, please. TOM! Hold on…stop…”

His face twisted in clear discomfort and his hands were clawing at my chest. I pulled out carefully. “What happened Josh? Did I hurt you?”

“No…no, m’fine. S’just a bit overwhelming, is all,” he mumbled. “Can you kiss me?”

I let his legs slide down my shoulders, leaned down and softly brushed my lips with his. I was confused, but also desperate to make this better, whatever it was. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and tried to make him look at me, but his eyes scanned the ceiling erratically and he blinked several times as he obviously tried to fight back the tears. But I could see that his eyes were already red. Now it was my turn to start panicking. Was he afraid of me? “Josh! Josh, honey, please, look at me. Are you hurt?” He shook his head and sobbed. Then his eyes finally met mine: “No, I’m alright. It’s just…please, don’t hate me Tom. I can’t stand you hating me. I was just trying to protect you.” 

The realization that hit him a minute ago now backfired back to me. And just like that my heart shattered into millions of microscopic pieces. I searched his face for more answers, those big, tearful eyes staring back at me. I stroked his hair tentatively. All the previous tension and anger dissolved and he was my sunshine boy again, but these were mere pale winter beams, and it was my fault, and the realization chilled me to my bones. He was weeping silently under me, obscured by my clouds. 

I moved slowly from between his legs and pulled him up into my embrace. He was reluctant at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around me. We just sat there for a while, cradling each other.  “I could never…,” I whispered against the damp skin right above his collarbone. “I’m just a terrible, jealous guy.”

“No, I made you jealous. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t realize…”

He couldn’t have. He’s the one who always lets his feelings pour out of him. I’ve always struggled with this. Not that I didn’t want to tell what was bothering me, I just couldn’t translate the whirlwind of my thoughts into coherent sentences. Just tell me what’s wrong, Tom. My previous lovers often lost patience with me. They always thought I didn’t want to talk and then our arguments ended with them giving up on me. Not him. He tried to make me laugh, he tried to make me yell, he tried to seduce me and he let me take all of him. I held him tight. I couldn’t let go. I was on the verge of tears, but it was him who needed comfort. I just hoped that I could give it to him. It was him who finally broke the silence. 

“Tom…” It was barely a whisper. 

“Yes?”

“I just hope you know I love you.” 

I finally loosened the embrace to look at him. My mouth was dry and my throat felt constricted, but I somehow managed to force out at least a weak “I do.” But that wasn’t enough. I knew I needed to say more: “…yes, baby, you’ve been telling me…I’m sorry,” I croaked. He took a deep breath and continued. 

“But hearing is not the same as feeling it…and,” he cleared his throat,”...and sometimes I need to feel it too. Sometimes it feels like you’re not even present. In your secret hiding place behind a thick wall and I just can’t get in!”

I buried my face in my hands. I needed a minute to process the evening’s events. “So, you seek it elsewhere?” I regretted those words almost instantly, but at least I finally forced myself to speak. 

“What do you mean? God, no!”

“No, not like that. I mean all those people, the plug. You didn’t really expl…” 

“I already told you! I wanted to share what we have.���

“By letting them touch you…”

“Cut it already!” He slapped the mattress, furious once again. “Yes, maybe you’re right…to a certain extent,” he spat out at me. “Yes, I let them touch me. I share a lot with people. It’s fulfilling and it feels natural. But it’s a different kind of love. And they understand. They didn’t grab at me, no one tried to pull me in. I share a lot with them but I don’t belong to them. But I agree with you that it's very personal. I thought about doing that for quite a while, but couldn’t find the courage to do so…unless I felt you there with me. I do miss you there. Sometimes I just miss you… anyway, about the plug…I guess today felt like a perfect day to try it. Please just tell me you understand, because I’m getting really sick of this.”

The plug was a gift from me, so yeah, I understood…kind of. Touch is important to him. But... “But why today?”

“Oh Tom,” he was tearful again. “Oh, fuck you. Really. It’s exactly three years since the day you first told me that you loved me.”

I just stared at him for a while, speechless. Then I finally lost it and started crying. “I’m a terrible person.” I felt like shit, I treated him like shit and really deserved to get a taste of my own medicine, in one way or another. But Josh is not like that. He doesn’t do that. And so it was now his turn to hug me, even though I tried to back away at first. But he’s stubborn, too. “You know, Tom, I felt it today. Among other things…”

“Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive. I understand.”

“No, you don’t... Listen Josh, I don’t need you to protect me. If anything, it should be the other way round. But I do need to feel like I belong in your life. I…I’m not sure I could continue like this.” 

Here, I finally said that. I had been afraid to utter those words aloud, because I knew they were dangerous. I expected another argument to follow, and maybe it would be the last one this time. But he only sighed and I felt him nod lightly against my shoulder. “I guess we need to make some inevitable changes then.”

I knew what he meant, but this was not just about me. And it was not just me who he’d been trying to protect. Himself, too, but also others in a way…

“Are you ready to make those changes?”

“I guess so…” 

We looked each other in the eye once more, trying to communicate the rest. At last I stood up and offered him my hand. “Come on, let me fix you a nice, hot bath.”

“No.” He took it but didn’t move. Instead, he tried to pull me back to bed. 

“No?” “No Tom, come back here, please. Make love to me.” 

He was sooo good at playing with my heartstrings. He really wanted me. He still trusted me. And from the look on his face, he needed me. I climbed back to him, took his face in my hands and kissed it. I traced my parted lips across his cheek and down to his jaw. He was like the oxygen I needed in order to stay alive and I was breathing him in. I continued upwards until our lips finally locked together. It was the first genuine kiss we shared that evening. 

How…?

“Spoon me.” As he lay down, I retrieved the previously discarded tube from the floor, lubed my fingers and cock once again and snuggled behind him. I didn’t rush it, and repeated the process once more that evening. I was nothing but tender this time, but he thought otherwise. He took my hand that was stroking his bare chest, placed it on his neck and tilted his head back. “Choke me.”

“Josh, I…you…” “Shhh, just do it. Please.” And I did. I wrapped my fingers around his throat and pulled him firmly back towards me. It wasn’t harsh. He let himself be completely vulnerable with me and I wanted to cherish it. I just rested my hand there, holding him firmly, but not with too much pressure. I could feel his pulse beating against my palm, every intake of breath. This was different than before. A moment of raw intimacy. He arched his back and reached behind to grab the back of my head. He knows I like that. I rewarded him with slow and deep thrusts, just how he loves it. He was moaning melodically to the rhythm, singing a secret song just for me now, and we rocked in tandem slowly, meeting each other halfway. Nothing else was necessary, this was everything. 

I took control again soon. Quickening my pace, I thrusted into him with a frantic urge. Goosebumps appeared all over his skin, which told me that he was very close. He always got shivers when he was approaching orgasm while I fucked him. Almost as if he was feverish. “Maddening ecstasy” – those were his words with which he once described it. I could feel him tense and tighten around me and rolled my hips once more to hit that perfect spot. “Oh my ggggnnnh Toooooohmmm….,” he let out a high pitched scream and came hard, his whole body convulsing. 

He was literally sobbing. I slowed my movements to a near stop and held his shivering body tight in my arms, waiting for his breathing to slow down. I was just about to pull out when he started moving again against me, urging me to continue, but I grabbed his hip and made him stop. He looked up at me, frowning. “What?” “Are you sure? It’s been a long night…” “No, Tom, don’t worry…come on, go on.”

I moved again tentatively, looking for any clue of his discomfort. He encouraged me again and I gradually resumed my pace. It didn’t take long. With a final groan, I buried my face in his hair, holding his now almost limp and exhausted body pressed to mine while I threshed about in an almost comical way, keeping him swaying in unison with me. We shifted a bit so that he was lying  on his belly now, me hovering above him. With the last few erratic thrusts I filled him up and we finally collapsed together into the pillows. 

We barely moved for at least another ten minutes, limbs still intertwined, eyes closed and our torsos literally glued together with sweat. Both of us simply wanted to prolong the moment, but I was slowly becoming aware of the world around us. We had left the glass door leading to the balcony open and the evening breeze finally pulled us back to reality. 

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I think a few people might have overheard us.” “Uh huh…ok…good.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Love sticks, sweat drips Break the lock if it don't fit A kick in the teeth is good for some A kiss with a fist is better than none (Florence and the Machine)

@writingcold @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness @fleet-of-fiction

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #greta van smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #slash fanfiction

[katuschka]

It's happening! She's back!

Jake Kiszka x Narrator & Sam Kiszka x OC.

Chapter Four

Summary: The Jones Family are new additions to the sleepy community of Beech Run. A tight knit scattering of rural houses, where everyone knows everyone. Deeply religious and overbearingly strict, the daughters of the family are kept under lock & key by a fanatical Father and submissive Mother. They watch from bedroom windows as their neighbours, The Kiszkas, draw intense curiosity and desire to be free. Madness of youth , hope & obsession collide to bring the danger of forbidden love to poetic ends. (Era A/U)

Warnings: Religious/ Parental trauma. Penetrative p/v sex. Dom/Sub dynamics. Ass play. Oral F/Receiving.

Winter 1985 (Flash forward)

Jake was gone; to begin with. The absence of him echoed all around. Like the vapours of his breath still lingered in the mist, just waiting to be breathed in.

It had been ten days since I last saw him. Standing on the edge of the street where all the Christmas lights twinkled an array of colours I couldn't feel anymore. The rot had set in.

And I'd watched him go. Without a rope to tie around his neck, or mine. Because using it to tether him to me hadn't worked. It was seamless how he disappeared into the density of the encroaching fog. Those reds, greens and blues that ran along the neighbouring windows fading alongside him.

I didn't know quite how profound the loss would be until I realised it was infinite. And suddenly I understood why poets were driven mad.

"Bonnie?"

The rain was lashing against the windscreen. I hadn't noticed. All I could see was the swirls of grey and white of that night he had walked into the road. Forever locked in that moment, never stepping out of it even as I traversed the present moment.

"Yeah?" I replied, turning my head to look at a pair of eyes so painfully similar to his that I couldn't stare for too long.

"We're here." Sam informed me, gesturing towards the blurred image of the church beyond the rainy glass.

I looked down at my hands. Balled up in my lap like I was wringing out a damp cloth.

"I can't do it." I shook my head, adamant that I was going to let roots begin to grow beneath where I sat before I ever got out of the car.

The warmth of a hand on my shoulder snaked over the curve of it from the seat behind me. And the tenderness of it made the tears begin to flow once more.

"Come on." Jolene soothed, "Be strong today, and I promise you can fall apart tomorrow."

~

Summer 1984

Jakes house smelled like beer and fabric softener. There were empty bottles strewn across the kitchen work tops and half eaten bags of chips sitting on the table. He immediately scrambled to try and make the place look more presentable as he opened the door for me.

I was endeared by it. But too tired to really care if the place was tidy or not.

"My Dad." He explained, sliding his arm across the counter in an attempt to gather all the empties into the trash can. "He usually has some buddies around to play poker and jam a little once a week. My Mom usually makes him clear the mess up, I guess he forgot tonight."

None of it felt real. Not the words exchanged in the hospital room or the way my little sister had clung to life with her eyes closed, none the wiser to the heated exchange. I could feel the coil around me tighten, a fear that I had done the wrong thing starting to choke me.

"It's fine, Jake. Really." I assured him, feeling the tears come.

He dropped the trash can and bounded across the kitchen, reaching me in one single heart beat. Fingers wrapping around my shirt, pulling me into his circle. The rush of comfort was overwhelming, doing nothing to stem the flood that was building. But it didn't feel quite so futile once I pressed my face into the curve of his neck.

"Hey, hey..." He soothed, "Everything will be alright, you know that?"

Whatever it meant to have walked this path, I couldn't go back. I'd had a taste of defiance and it had gone down like nectar. Sweet and alluring, with none of the bitterness I'd expected. And although I had a moment of doubt, the moment Jake held me it dissipated into nothing.

"Not yet, I don't." I sighed, letting the damp spot I'd made on his shirt seep onto his skin.

"Yes you do." He replied, noticing what I'd done and pulling the shirt completely off. "You being here means that you do."

The wall clock was ticking. The gentle buzz of the refrigerator sounded out over the silent house. It was strange to hear these familiar sounds in a place that was completely new to me. It didn't feel like home, but I didn't feel homesick for anywhere else either.

"It's been a long night. We can sleep on the pull out in the garage, I don't want you to have to deal with Josh's sleep talking in my room." He said, lining up my expectations like he always did.

"I don't care where we sleep." I shrugged, taking the shirt he'd dumped on the back of a chair and straightening it out absently as if my hands needed something to do.

He noticed.

"You're restless." He surmised, taking my hands into his and wrapping them around his waist. "Maybe we won't sleep, then."

"I couldn't." I confessed. "I keep replaying the sight of her laying in that hospital bed, helpless. And all my Dad cared about was making sure I knew he thought me a whore."

A smug little grin began to dance across Jakes lips.

"A whore?" He chuckled. "I have never given you a dime, how much do I owe you?"

His softness had me melting into it. In the face of my misery, he smiled and brought me into a light no God could ever provide. The sweetness of his love all the payment I'd ever need for the things he took such delight in from me.

"Forever." I replied, "You owe me forever."

The gentle nudge of the tip of his nose turned my cheek.

"Forever it is, then." He replied, nuzzling into a kiss that was slow and delicate.

I liked his house. The way it felt lived in. I could feel the love in the walls, the intimation of welcome and the chaos. I wondered how it could be that such love manifested under a roof so close to one that could scarcely keep the warmth in.

"I think this is what God meant when he talked about love." I whispered, letting him guide me through the house towards the door that opened up into the garage.

Jake was unapologetically shirtless. The base of his spine sitting above his belt, two little dimples that seemed to wink as he walked. Every fibre of him appealed to me, as if he'd been placed at my doorstep to adore.

"Don't worry about God." He mused, pushing open the door to reveal a cool breeze coming in from the drafty expanse ahead. "We make our own luck, our own destiny. We make our own love."

I felt as if I should have been exhausted. But being in this cavern of wonders always took me back to the night he took my virginity. I couldn't step into it without being reminded of the beauty of it, the way he'd been so gentle and calm.

I wasn't a virgin anymore. Any semblance of innocence I had given to him, willingly. I knew the softness of a man's touch and the aggressive streak that could come with heightened arousal. I knew that look in his eye when he wanted my body more than my soul. Things a girl could never understand.

"Fuck me, Jake."

I wanted it. Not to take the pain away, or numb the doubts racing through my mind. But simply because I wanted it. I wanted the rough and the smooth of his body against mine. The rush of blood to his penis, to feel the veins pulse at my touch.

I wanted the power. The femininity of it, to know he ordained himself to me. For the longest time I'd lived under a rule that was not my own. I governed myself now, my mind and my body.

"How would you like to be fucked?" He asked, pulling out the bed whilst keeping his eyes on me.

I could have been shy about it. I could have said it didn't matter, that he could fuck me however he pleased. But it wouldn't have satisfied me.

"Like the whore my Father thinks I am." I replied, without shame.

His hands were already at his belt. Loosening the buckle. Pulling it out of the loops swiftly.

"You'd better take off that dress and get on all fours, then." He instructed, matter-of-factly, as if I hadn't just said the most debauched thing to ever escape my lips.

The immediate flood was inspiring. He was so sure of himself, so certain of his ability to arouse me. Sometimes I forgot that I instilled that same heat within him. And so I did as I was told, letting my clothes fall to the ground as I crawled onto the bed.

I heard the unmistakable thud of his jeans as he kicked them off. The waistband of his boxer shorts as he slid them down high thighs. Soon his hands were at my hips, positioning me at the very edge of the bed with my toes almost peering over the precipice.

"Like a whore." He repeated, sinking to his knees. "I wouldn't fuck a whore like I loved her."

I had known his love and it was powerful. But so too was his propensity to make me feel like the most desired creature on earth. It carved out an obsession within me that had caused a ripple throughout my whole life. I simply wasn't the same girl I'd been at the start of summer.

"Then don't." I said flatly, "Just for once, don't love me..."

The way he didn't hesitate, the way he didn't even verbalise it. He understood what I needed without fixating on the how or the why. I closed my eyes as he spat on my cunt, rubbing his saliva into my submissive clit as he positioned himself.

He loved me so much he would do this for me. The sacrifice was not lost upon me. Part of me wondered if he had been waiting for me to submerge myself beneath the dark waters trying to drown me. If all along he'd wondered if the virgin would go rogue.

"The pastor's daughter has finally listened to the devil." He uttered, through gritted teeth, leaning in to my pussy like it was a water fountain, curving his mouth into the slit like it was about to satiate his thirst.

"He speaks to me every day." I reiterated, my voice trembling on the tongue that sliced into my entrance.

He trailed it upwards, licking a clean stripe from my pussy into the valley of my ass. And there he set to work, chasing all the choirs of angels that had ever sung to me. They flew skyward out of my mouth as I let out an agonized cry of pleasure.

He ate like a man starved. Like a man who had never set his tongue to speak, let alone venture into the parts of my body that never knew it could feel so good to be lashed.

"You know I love you." He breathed, his words strained on the way he swallowed.

"I know." I replied, almost in whisper.

"Good." He murmured, railing his tongue against my swollen lips. "Because for the next five minutes it's going to feel like I don't."

I was immediately drawn to the paint peeling on the brick wall. I was never really sure why my eyes zeroed in on it. Perhaps because my other senses were overwhelmed. I just needed something to tether me to this plane of existence. To feel as if any of it was real.

I stared at that white speck of flayed paint as my body convulsed. Jake, like he had lost his damned mind, sucked my pussy lips into his mouth and the devilish sound that it made turned my cheeks crimson.

And then, without any warning, I felt it. The curious finger that opened me up, a delicious new venture to take my mind away from itself. And I closed my eyes against it, not even able to tether myself to the wall.

My pussy, feeling the void of his touch, pined as he gently probed inside that other begging place. Filling it, exploring it. And I didn't have any way to fight it, least of all when he slammed his cock into that neglected hole. Fingers edging further into my ass, his hard beast giving me exactly what I had asked for in my pussy and my mind on the verge of euphoria as I forgot even the first syllable of my own name.

He was wrong. He'd never been more wrong. As he heaved and pounded, delicious strokes that hit me deep and hard I'd never felt more loved. My entire body pulsed with the magnitude of each thrust. My vulnerability laid bare, like he'd seen the heart of me since the very first time we'd caught each other's eye.

I wanted to touch him so badly, so maddeningly. But it drove me wild how easily he could take control and I would submit. Despite my shallow breaths, a gasp still managed to find it's way to my lips as he pulled out of my ass, swirling that same finger around the hole before stroking it with the pad of his thumb.

Everything I had come to know about sex was at Jake's teaching. Even this. This moment of sheer abandon, forceful indulgence in something I had clearly needed for so long but hadn't known what it was that would cure me of this melancholy.

I was nearing the point of thoughtlessness when I heard his whisper. His body leaned into the curve of my spine, his stomach nestled against me as his hand pulled back my sweat drenched hair. Cock held deep inside, his lips at the shell of my ear.

"Whore..."

There it was. Every single facet of my soul lingering in the ether between us. Getting fucked, getting my pussy so unashamedly pounded I felt nothing but pride. In Jake, in myself. There was nothing outside of it, nothing outside that one word that I had now reclaimed.

"Hail Mary, full of grace..." I recited, my voice barely audible over the stream of moans. "The Lord is with thee..."

"That's it little whore, pray..." Jake encouraged, wrapping my hair around his fist.

"Blessed art thou among....uhh...women..." I choked, feeling my head reel back as he pulled. "And blessed is the...oh, fuck...fruit of thy womb..."

He fucked harder, faster. Keeping my body aligned with him by pulling my hair.

"Tell him." He urged, "Tell your God who you belong to now."

My brain completely shut off from the inhibited parts that would scream at me to be decent, to have the kind of sex that God would approve of. There was nothing but the throbbing girth and savage onslaught of Jake fucking me left to commit myself to.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God..." I breathed, my mouth unforgivingly dry. "Pray for us sinners...now...and in the hour...fuck...in the hour of...fuck......"

"Our Death..." Jake completed for me, sending me into an orbit that was higher than any heaven could hope to be.

Had it only been five minutes? Every muscle and sinew ached, every nerve ending a blaze. My cunt was soft and wet, filled with his cum and the moisture of mine. My hair follicles stung, raw from the pull. I felt Jakes body slide against mine, sweaty and spent. The violence of his furious assault in the flush of our flesh.

I'd never felt more at peace.

"You want me to fuck you like that again, my death might be a real concern." He sighed, falling onto his back as I tried to regain my composure.

I'd never seen him look so absolutely ruined. The sweat and the rose in his cheeks making him look decidedly demonic. The dilation of his pupils made his eyes look pitch black in the almost darkness. He was my satan, my sinful reason to renounce all that I had ever known.

"But what a death." I replied, trailing a palm down my wet breasts, feeling my skin pricked with sweat. "And when you're entering the gates of hell you'll have sweet memories to keep you company."

"Hell can only exist if you believe in it." He said morosely, pulling me down into the clammy circle of his arms. "And after tonight, I've got a feeling you'll be less inclined to worry about ending up in eternal hell fire."

My cheek was sticking to his chest. But I didn't care. I let my skin absorb into his. Running my finger up his stomach, catching the little drenched hairs below his belly button.

"I don't care." I didn't know it until I said the words out loud. "All I want to do is make sure Jolene gets better, and make sure she never goes back to that life."

I had no concept of the time as I opened my eyes. I could feel the heat of the afternoon burning behind the garage door, though. A beam of yellow light framing the steel door. I sat up on the pull out bed, wrapped in blankets as if I'd been tucked in as I slept.

My dress was still draped on the arm of the chair opposite, everything left as it had been the night before. The only thing missing was Jake, his muffled voice carrying down from the house above.

I dressed in haste and found myself feeling a little nervous as I climbed the stairs towards the kitchen. Voices falling to silence as I turned the door handle.

I could feel the atmosphere thicken as I walked in. Jake was standing by the island, his palms flat on the counter and his head bowed. As if he'd been engaged in a conversation that brought him no joy. His Mother was standing at the hob, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. Her faded smile awkwardly returning as she caught sight of me.

Josh and Sam were sitting at the table devouring a plate of pancakes, their sister idly reading a book with her feet up on the chair next to her, barely noticing my entrance.

"Sit down, dear." Karen offered, "There's pancakes on the table and I'm making some porridge if you prefer."

The kitchen was still littered with the night before, empty beer cans and chip bags. But nobody seemed to care, and it made me feel more at home. Despite the lull in conversation as I took a seat around the table, I had hope that it was because nobody had expected me to be there.

Sam, still chewing his food, smiled.

"Do you think it'd be ok if I went to see Jolene in the hospital?" He asked, shoving an empty plate towards me.

"Sweetie, we talked about this." Karen said, pointing her wooden spoon at him. "I don't think Mr. Jones would appreciate that."

Perhaps I should have interjected. I could feel Jakes eyes on me, waiting for me to agree or disagree. Ronnie looked up over the lip of her book, and Josh offered me the syrup.

"You don't have to walk on eggshells." I ventured, "I don't have anything to say about my Father that will be positive."

"I already told you." Jake sniffed, "She doesn't want to go back there."

Karen shot her son a knowing look, one that I couldn't be a part of. But I understood the meaning of it. She would protect her flock from the bullshit my family posed, but she would welcome me regardless of it. Whatever it meant, she had to trust that her son had everything under control.

A part of me doubted that she held that much trust in her youngest son. I didn't know why, but I'd seen the careless nature in Sam. His propensity for letting himself run away with frivilous ideas. This and Jolene's chaos was a deadly combination.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you need." Karen offered, putting a bowl of thick and gloopy porridge in front of me.

She sprinkled it with some fruit and looked pleased with herself. The sort of Mother I'd never known. Suddenly I was ravenous and began spooning the mixture into my mouth like I hadn't eaten in days. Maybe I hadn't?

"Don't they feed you over there?" Josh asked, amused by me.

Jake railed his palm against the back of Josh's head, ruffling his curls.

"I know you're joking, but be fucking nice!" He warned, pushing Ronnie's feet off the only empty chair before taking it.

"I am being nice!" Josh replied, shrugging in surprise. "Sorry, Bonnie."

I shook my head. It didn't matter. Sam was still waiting for me to say something to his request. As if what Karen had said didn't answer the question for him.

"So, what do you think?" He continued, "About me being able to go up to the hospital?"

I was still chewing on the blueberries popping against my tongue as I sluiced the porridge around my mouth. Savouring the taste. Wondering if breakfast was always this delicious, or did everything just taste better now that I was free?

I was still formulating an answer when the doorbell went. The ring of it making everyone exchange this strange look of wonder. Perhaps their doorbell was so seldomly pressed it came as a surprise that someone was at the door. It struck me that the Kiszka house was an open door policy. Anyone that knew them well enough to have occasion to visit simply stepped inside.

"I'll get it." Jake said, after realising nobody else would.

It didn't take long for me to hear the voice my brother used when he was trying to be polite, but it was nothing more than a facade to the way he really felt. I could hear the clipped tone, the words appropriate enough but I could imagine his smug little face.

I shot up from the table. Determined to make this problem go away. Feeling as if I owed no more bullshit on their doorstep.

"What do you want, Ben?" I asked, letting Jake step aside as I approached the door.

He didn't look smug at all. There was this pained look in this eyes that I'd never seen before. Like he hadn't slept. His shirt wasn't tucked in and his hair wasn't neatly combed as usual. His chin was trembling, as if he was on the verge of tears he would never allow himself to shed.

He was forlorn. "Can't a brother check up on his sister?"

I almost laughed. "I really don't think you care."

"I do..." He replied, without hesitation, his eyes widening to prove his point. "Of course I care. I've got one sister in the hospital and the other one hiding out in the house across the street. We need you to come home, both of you."

The use of the word 'we' incited an anger in the pit of my stomach I hadn't known burned quite so brightly. It flared in the whites of my eyes and made my palms grow clammy. I looked to Jake, but he simply held the door open and waited to move on my cue.

"Close the door Jake, we're done talking."

He didn't ask questions, he just let the door swing free. When Ben stepped inside and jammed his foot against it closing, only then did he gently move me back. Standing in front. Meeting my brother at eye level.

"Take your foot out of my door, dude." He softly warned, "That's not cool."

He didn't even look at Jake, it was as if he wasn't even there. Like this wasn't his house and he was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"You disobey your Father, you disobey God." He said ominously, "Is that what you want, Bonnie?"

I couldn't entertain him. Every word that spilled out of his mouth now sounded like the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. Nonsense. The word of God? A tool used to keep me compliant. In fear. I could see his concern laced in his furrowed brow, but it was misplaced.

He wasn't concerned for me. He was concerned with the reaction he would get if he went home empty handed.

"Yes, Ben." I replied, "That is what I want. Ok???"

He'd forged his way into every traumatic moment of my life. Standing on the periphery of every abusive little thing Dad had ever said or done to me. Like a strange little voyeur, living under the same roof but having an entirely different experience.

"You heard her." Jake echoed, kicking my brothers foot aside before slamming the door in his face.

The eggshells were still being walked on as I hurried back to my breakfast. It broke my heart. And I couldn't eat another bite, everything going down in lumps as I sat there fighting back tears. Everyone was silent. I couldn't take it.

"Yes, Sam." I mumbled, trying to find my voice without it breaking on tears. "Get your jacket, we'll go up to the hospital."

His eyes lit up. His smile beamed. Like I'd handed him the holy grail and told him it would grant him unending powers. The sort of joy that was only reserved for the first flushes of love.

I looked at Jake, knowing it wasn't like that for me and him. He wouldn't find joy at being granted access to my hospital bedside. He would be injured at my side, or cutting down the last tongue that ever tried to tell him he could not see me.

I could still feel the ache between my legs that he had left as a reminder of his unwavering devotion. And I knew that whatever was to come would be a testament to that. To the coil wrapped around us both.

I couldn't fathom what was about to happen.

To be continued...

@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

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #fanfic #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #fic rec

[katuschka]

I really need to see that phenomenal ass right now!

I have made this terrible discovery....

His arms, his chest

#josh kiszka #hes so fine

[katuschka]

Looks like a movie trailer. The movie's called "Hell Yeah".

[katuschka]

Mr. Joshua Loudfuck Kiszka

Parapapa paaaah, I'm lovin' it.

FUCK THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUTTA ME PLEASE BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf

[katuschka]

Please, folks, do NOT apologise for English not being your 1st language.

You can mention it, sure...but there's nothing to apologise for. Especially when your English is great... Only total jerks are going to make fun of you if there's an occassional mistake here and there, so who cares.

Happier than ever

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake

Extended Masterpost

Context: Y/N is so so so perfectly happy *practiced smile* yay marital bliss.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Word Count: 2.5k

Previous Track: Honeymoon (3 months prior)

Chapter soundtrack: Happier than ever – Billie Eilish

When I'm away from you, I'm happier than ever. Wish I could explain it better. I wish it wasn't true.

The London night hung heavy outside the windows of the elegant townhouse YN now called home. She sat at her desk, surrounded by scattered sheets of lyrics and half-empty coffee cups. Despite the late hour, her mind refused to rest.

Ever since returning from her honeymoon, YN had been trying her best to bury herself in work. As she sifted through the papers, her phone buzzed insistently, breaking the silence of the night.

She glanced at the screen, the number displayed unfamiliar once again. Another anonymous call, just like the countless others that had become a regular occurrence since her move to London three months prior.

With a sigh, she hit the decline button and tossed the phone aside, frustration bubbling beneath her calm exterior.

At first, she dismissed it as a nuisance, perhaps a misguided fan or a random prankster. But the calls persisted. She had tried blocking the numbers, changing her settings, everything she could think of to put an end to it, but to no avail. The rare times she’d picked up, silence had greeted her before the caller abruptly disconnected.

That night, though, she noticed something. The International dialing code seemed different from usual. A quick google search informed her it was Brazilian.

Her thoughts drifted back to a short conversation she’d had a few weeks prior. Josh. He’d mentioned the band's upcoming tour in South America.

No, YN thought, there’s just no way. She brushed off the thought.

Still, she found herself lying in bed a couple hours later, checking Greta’s Instagram account. There was just no way. Only, she was met with a photo posted just an hour before. The description read, “Thank you for a remarkable show. See you soon, Sao Paulo.”

Fuck.

--

A week later, the glow of her phone illuminated the dark bedroom. Another call, another unknown number, another international code.

With a quick glance at Harry's sleeping form beside her, YN slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him. She tiptoed towards their bathroom and quietly locked the door behind her.

The girl leaned against the sink, her fingers trembling as she answered the call. Silence greeted her on the other end, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest.

Enough of this.

"Jake?" she tried, her voice barely a whisper. But there was no response, only the empty void that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

"Is that you?" She tried again, desperation creeping into her voice. But still, there was nothing, only the echo of her own words bouncing back at her.

Frustration bubbled up inside her, mingling with the deep-seated concern that gnawed at her from within.

“Jake, I know it’s-” the call abruptly disconnected. Her heart sank, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

--

For the following three weeks, YN found herself in a semi-constant state of anxiety, her eyes darting nervously to her phone at every passing moment. Nights offered no respite, each small noise in the house sending her heart racing as she scrambled to check her phone.

Finally, on yet another sleepless night, her phone lit up. American dialing code. The boys might have returned to the States before embarking on the European leg of their tour.

Silently slipping out of bed, she made her way to the kitchen and answered the call. Without surprise, she was once again greeted by silence.

After a brief moment, she spoke into the void. "Are you alright?"

There was no immediate response, only the sound of uneven breaths on the other end of the line.

"It's late," she stated firmly. "I'm going to hang up now—"

"I wanted...” the caller suddenly spoke. Her breath was caught in her throat. She’d been right. “I wanted to hear your voice," his voice was rough, his words slurred. YN sighed.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, her tone annoyed. But there was no reply, only the quiet of the night surrounding her.

Suddenly, a noise erupted from the other end of the line, a distant car horn echoing through the darkness.

"What was that?" YN's voice rose with concern. "Was that a car? Have you been driving?"

She knew too well of Jake's reckless habits, the demons that had haunted him like a shadow. The thought of him spiraling out of control in some far-off corner of the world sent a chill down her spine.

"Fucking say something," she snapped, her frustration boiling over. But before she could receive an answer, the call abruptly ended. She winced.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Panic began to gnaw at the edges of her mind as she struggled to make sense of the situation.

“Love,” a voice broke her train of thoughts, “what are you doing up?”

Harry.

“It’s Patty” YN said, turning to face him. “Go back to bed, I’ll be right behind you.”

Harry's brow furrowed with concern. "Is everything alright?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.

"Yeah," she replied hastily, attempting to brush off his concern with a forced smile. "Just... schedule stuff." She shocked herself with how quickly the lies kept on tumbling out.

“Okay," Harry nodded, turning to head back to bed.

YN couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that ate at her conscience as she watched him leave the room. She hated lying to him, but she couldn't bear to burden him with the truth of her worries, not when she didn't even know how to confront them herself.

When the bedroom door clicked shut behind Harry, YN wasted no time. With trembling fingers, she dialed a number and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" Josh's voice, groggy with sleep, came through the line.

"Do you know where he is?" YN's hushed words rushed out.

"YN, it's like 1am over here, what—" Josh started to protest, but she cut him off.

"Do you know where he is?" she repeated, her tone insistent.

"Where is wh—"

"Jake," she interjected, her voice trembling. "Do you know where Jake is?"

Josh paused for a moment before responding, his voice serious. "At his place, I assume. Why? Wh-what's going on?"

YN struggled to find the words, her mind racing with a million thoughts at once. She quickly explained the situation, knowing that Josh would understand without needing further explanation.

Josh fell silent for a moment. He, too, knew the root of her concern, and understood what scared her to death.

"I'll take care of it," he assured her, his voice firm with determination. "Don't worry."

Relief flooded through YN as she hung up the phone, though she couldn't bring herself to return to bed. Instead, she sat on the sofa, her nerves on edge as she waited anxiously for an update.

 The minutes stretched into hours, and the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the window when she finally received a text from Josh.

"He's okay," it read.

Exhaustion gave way to mounting frustration and anger. That’s it? She thought. She’d been staying up all night for this shit; lying to her husband for this shit. She sighed heavily; biting the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood.

Fuck this.

YN texted back, “Thanks. Tell him to leave me alone.”

__

After a couple of weeks of silence, with no calls disrupting the uneasy calm, YN began to hope for long-lasting peace. She almost felt guilty for her earlier frustrations, often wondering whether Jake was doing better.

However, any hopes of tranquility were shattered when a storm erupted in the Greta Van Fleet online fandom.

A fan's comment on one of Jake's posts caught fire, igniting a frenzy of speculation. The comment read, "Okay, I was at last night's concert and let’s just say, it was not it. I feel like that's been happening a lot recently. So, what is it my man? Trouble with the fam? or did some bitch do you dirty?"

To everyone's shock, Jake had replied to the comment.

 Two words.

 "The latter."

The internet exploded, and although Jake deleted the comment an hour later, the damage was done. The news reached YN like a punch to the gut.

She couldn't believe it. To have Jake talk shit about her on the internet was a new low. Though no one outside of their inner circle knew he was referring to her, the mere implication cut deep. And there was nothing she could even do or say. Especially from halfway across the world.

YN stood on the balcony, gazing out at the sprawling London skyline, but instead of feeling captivated by its beauty, bitterness flooded her senses. Jake had somehow managed to make her hate this city. Worst, he’d made her resent Harry for simply asking her to move there. The constant rain felt like a mockery, and the distance from where she truly belonged only amplified her sense of displacement.

And the most infuriating part? She had let him. Her thoughts were blinded by anger as she put pen to paper. Even after all this time, she had allowed Jake to ruin everything good. Perhaps it was a good thing she found herself far away from him. All he seemed capable of doing was bringing her endless sorrow.

Harry, on the other hand, was the epitome of reliability. He always showed up on time. Got along with her friends, got along with Patty. Did everything right.

So why was Jake the one occupying her thoughts day and night? It was like a poison, slowly corroding the good in her life until all that was left was the bitter taste of regret and anger.

As YN stood on the balcony, her phone suddenly lit up. Jake's name. He finally had the guts to call her with his own phone.

She reached for the device, her fingers curling around it tightly. She stared at it for a moment, considering her options. She could let it ring. Or she could reply. For what, though? She thought. Some half-assed apology? Telling her how it’s all some big misunderstanding?

Without a second thought, she clenched her jaw and, with a determined flick of her wrist, let her phone drop over the railing, watching as it plummeted towards the ground below.

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the night as the device met its demise on the pavement.

It was a stupid but cathartic gesture. With a sense of finality, she turned away from the balcony, leaving behind the remnants of her broken phone and the memories it held.

--

Two weeks later.

Jake stumbled along the hotel hallway. The band had just wrapped up a show in Glasgow, which had gone rather well considering the blinding hangover that had been clinging to their lead guitarist throughout the tour. Jake had therefore rewarded himself with a local treat, that is, the now half-empty bottle of scotch in his hand. When in Rome, right?

Feeling for his keycard in his pockets, Jake cursed softly as he came up empty-handed. He decided to try the room across from his, hoping his baby brother hadn’t gone to bed just yet. He pressed his ear against the door and breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of a TV playing inside. Bingo.

With a drunken knock, Jake announced his presence before the door swung open to reveal Sam. "What's up?" he greeted.

"Lost my key," Jake mumbled, brushing past Sam and collapsing onto the nearest bed. " m’tired," he added, his words slurred from the alcohol.

However, amidst the haze of his drunken stupor, Jake noticed something amiss.

 It was too quiet.

“Why d’you turn it off?” Jake asked, curious.

“Mmh?” The bass-player replied.

“The TV” Jake specified. He had a feeling something was up.

"Oh, uh, nothing good is on right now," Sam replied nervously, his attempt at nonchalance falling flat. "British TV sucks ass," he added hastily. The youngest Kiszka had never been much of a good actor. Jake stared for a moment and Sam knew he could see right through him.

“Jake-” Sam tried protesting, but his brother had already snatched the remote and turned the TV back on. The bright light of the screen suddenly lighting up their features and the sound of laughter filling the hotel room.

There she was. Seated elegantly on the talk show couch. YN exuded confidence as she engaged in conversation with the host.

“So, tell me something,” the host leaned in, a glint of excitement in his eyes, “when are we going to get some new music?” A ripple of anticipation coursed through the audience, and a mischievous smirk danced across YN’s lips.

“Well, I actually just finished recording a bunch of tracks, so—" Before she could finish, the audience erupted into deafening cheers, their excitement palpable. “I know, I know, it’s exciting,” YN continued, her voice barely audible over the enthusiastic applause, “I can’t wait to get back on the road.”

“Back on the road?” the host raised an eyebrow, a playful tone in his voice, “Have you grown tired of Hubby already?”

YN chuckled. "Well, who says I'm not packing him in my suitcase?" she quipped. The audience laughed at her comeback.

"Talking about Mr. Harry Styles,” loud cheers exploded at the host’s mention of YN’s husband, “a little birdie told me you two just purchased a house in our fair capital, is that right?”

“Uh,” YN looked slightly surprised, feeling a pang of discomfort at the invasion of privacy, “yeah, we did get ourselves a little nest-”

“-a 9-million-pound nest” the host joked, eliciting laughter from the audience.

YN let out a polite chuckle. “Yeah, it is ridiculously grand, actually.”

“Is it your first time owning a place?” the interviewer asked.

“It is, yes, see, I’m originally from New York, so renting appartments has always been the way for me.” Jake’s mind drifted to their little apartment back in Nashville.

“Must be quite a change” the host declared.

“Kinda, yes,” she added, “it’s got a bunch of rooms that I haven’t seen in a while, like an actual laundry room, who knew that was even a thing?” the audience laughed, “and a foyer, whatever that is, and a-”

“-Nursery?” the host filled in. The audience leaned forward in anticipation.

“Well, aren’t you curious?” she said, maintaining a playful façade at the interviewer’s lack of tact, “But no, no nursery,” the audience could be heard huffing in disappointment.

“Ah well,” the host remarked, “someday soon.”

“Sure,” she replied with a forced smile, “someday.”

As Jake listened to the conversation, a thought crossed his mind: YN had always been unequivocal about her reluctance to have children. Then again, she had also once been adamant about her aversion to marriage. And yet, here she was with a ring around her finger. The bile rose in his throat.

“Well, we’re running out of time here,” the host abruptly announced, glancing at the monitor. “It’s been a real pleasure, and I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that the world is thrilled to see you embrace this newfound happiness, is that accurate?”

“Oh absolutely,” she replied with a tight smile. “I’m,” she paused, something unseen briefly flickering in her eyes, “happier than ever.”

--

YN never knew why but, after that night, the calls stopped.

--

Next Track: The Bomb

Extended Masterpost

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

#gretavanfleet #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #good reads #fic rec

[katuschka]

A Rollercoaster Ride with Tom&Jerry

Josh Kiszka x male OC (1st person narrative) 8.014 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: intense and confusing emotions; swear words; both verbal and physical fights; oral sex; anal sex (surprise, surprise, it's about two guys); toys; choking&gagging&some spanking; BDSM; ...so you see, it's not for everyone. This is basically a story about finding and re-establishing mutual trust. It involves conflict. Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned. So if you have any doubts that you're gonna be able to handle it, proceed with caution. Big thanks goes to: 1. @edgingthedarkness for making an illustrative short video (you're gonna find it inside the story below) that should make the whole experience even juicier! 2. all my beta-readers and cheerleaders, especially @writingcold, @edgingthedarkness, @its-interesting-van-kleep and @thewritingbeforesunrise. Cheers, guys.

I've got some things to say 'Cause there's a lot that you don't know It's written on my face It's gonna be hard to swallow (P!nk)

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?” 

I sighed. Yeah, no shit. There was actually so much I wanted to say to him ever since the show ended, I just couldn’t figure out how to do that without sounding like a jealous little girl. My mind was absolutely racing and when that happens, the connection between my brain and my mouth just gets cut off completely. It’s a serious condition, really. Commonly known as “sulking.” 

I often accompany him on tour, but I try to avoid live shows. I have my reasons. Hundreds of them. I agreed to be there for the last few concerts, which I now deeply regretted. 

It had been a really busy and eventful week; me, myself and I getting increasingly irritated – by everything, but mostly him – as the days went by, and tonight’s events felt like the last straw. Part of me wanted to be finally alone with him, and another part just wanted to be alone. So, as a result, I just tried to avoid him. I had kept to myself while watching him down his beer as the band enjoyed their aftershow high back in the green room. No one else seemed to pay attention to me, and for that I was glad. Now we were sitting in a car on our way back to the hotel room, and the confrontation that I’d tried to avoid seemed inevitable. 

As much as I pretended to be interested in the night scenery behind the window, it was impossible to ignore him any longer. Sadly, it was equally impossible to pretend that everything was ok and the idea that we could resolve it soon seemed pretty absurd. He was still in his stage outfit, bare chest in full display, absentmindedly scratching the skin right below his left nipple. Much to my dismay, he smelled divine, too. Warm and musky from the exertion, still with a faint hint of vanilla and cedar. AND he was obviously completely clueless. 

“You know Josh, you make it really hard sometimes...” 

Well, shit. I realized what I just did even before I finished the sentence. The instant smirk on his face told me that it was a really bad word choice and I regretted it immediately. I really wished that he would take it seriously this time. But he was still exhilarated and unnaturally restless, even to his standards. He literally couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in his seat, rapping his knuckles on a windowsill, giggling at nothing in particular…and I’d swear I even heard a moan when the car accidentally hit a curb. If I didn’t know him, I would say that he was high, but I knew he would never do that while performing. 

“Yeah, I often do, don’t I darling.” He turned to me and pouted playfully, his chin resting on his fist. “...but you’re never quiet when that happens, so why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you.” He was looking at me now, the lower lip between his teeth again, eyelids half closed. Cheeky bastard. 

What I really meant was – and he just proved my point again, by the way – that it was hard to keep the conversation serious when he was like that. And he was like that most of the fucking time. Everyone loved him for it, and that was the problem, because he just didn’t hesitate to love them all back. Not only was this his nature, but what is more, he was required to do that. A people pleaser, an entertainer…I was no longer pleased, nor entertained, though. 

I knew what I signed up for when we started seeing each other. Granted, I didn’t know who he was – or what he was – when we first met in that rally more than three years ago. He was just a beautiful boy with the eyes of a winking doll and a golden halo bouncing around his head. In a crowd of other nameless, faceless and anonymous people, he exuded blinding light. Am I too sentimental? If you were there, you’d surely understand. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. After staring at him for at least fifteen minutes, I dared to lift my camera up to take a picture just as the wind blew a few disheveled locks into his face. He immediately noticed. His brows furrowed and his eyes squinted at me, but they were warm and I could tell he was smiling behind his mask, even though apprehensively. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” “Why did you do that?” If I had thought that it couldn’t get any worse, I was sorely mistaken. The sultry voice that came from behind that black piece of cloth didn’t match his overall appearance. It made my dick twitch though, and I had to hear it again, so I decided to come clear about it, because he was already turning away again, not really interested in my answer. As if having his pictures taken was something that happened everyday. Yeah, as if. But…

Believe it or not, I just told him I thought he was beautiful. Right there on that street. I don’t normally do shit like that. To this day, I still don’t understand what got into me. It was blunt and impudent and no doubt a bit weird, and I expected him to tell me to fuck off. 

But instead, he blushed. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” 

I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if he was just playing along. Or even mocking me. But I had to seize the opportunity by the hair. “I’m Tom.” What else to say, right?

“Josh.”

That’s it. That’s how Tom met Josh. We talked a lot that day. He was cute and funny and I just couldn’t get enough of that voice, which is never a good sign. You shouldn’t let yourself get addicted to people. It’s dangerous and he was very addictive. Later that day, when we left the crowd behind and he put the mask down to reveal his full, rosy lips, I should have run. But I didn’t. I let him use those lips to chain me to him just as they enveloped my dick.

Since then, there was not one single day when I wouldn’t think about that mouth. It only got worse when that sleepy pout became the first thing I saw almost every time I opened my eyes in the morning during that summer. Our relationship started as a strictly sexual one, not because we wanted it that way, but simply because arousal and excitement came first, and there was nothing else to do. We skipped dating and dived head first in the sheets. The world had slowed down, the future looked hazy, and we were just bored. OK, I admit, I was bored. His life wasn’t boring at all. Not even then. I got sucked into it pretty soon (pun absolutely intended). He made me fall for him before we even realized what was happening, and it was brutally intense. And it was also mutual. 

I soon learned what it really meant to be part of that world. Our secret summer of love ended and reality hit. I went completely offline, partly because I was not interested in being hunted down by hysterical chicks, but mostly because he didn’t want them to know. You know what I mean. I didn’t really care that much myself, but I also understood. 

If you’re into traveling, and if you ever followed @tomontheroad on Instagram and wondered why it just vanished one day, wonder no more. Yes, it was me. You probably didn’t even notice though, because in late 2020, it had already been dead for months anyway. 

That’s just how it was. To keep the life we shared safe, I became an invisible nobody, which made it almost impossible for me to do my job, but I somehow managed. Meanwhile, he was there in the spotlight, adored by thousands, making their pussies and dreams wet. I was never to be seen. I agreed to all that, gladly, even though it was gradually getting worse. They started touring again, and that was when I saw his full potential, wrapped in velvet. He was their Pied Piper, playing his flute just as he played his vocals. I still didn’t mind. It was all worth it. I thought it was, at least. As soon as we closed the doors behind us, a brand new universe opened before me. Behind the closed doors, I was a traveler again, a tireless explorer. Every inch and every curve of his body was a land full of miracles and pleasures. A wondrous landscape. Every valley, a new home for me. Every peak, a place that revealed brand new horizons. Who needed tropical white sands when his warm skin was the perfect place to lay your head, the sound of his heart more calming than the humming of sea waves. I simply loved him. 

I learned to live with the fact that I had a boyfriend that hundreds of people wanted to fuck, but it was me who actually did. They were mere voyeurs, standing outside the shopping window, ogling hungrily all the delicious desserts on display, which only I had the privilege to taste. I kept telling myself that I was the lucky one. 

And you know what? That’s complete and utter bullshit. I keep doing this to myself. Lying to myself. I hadn’t learned to live with it at all. Granted, we had these conversations before, and all of them ended with me telling him it was fine. Everything was fine. I spent nearly two fucking years trying to convince myself that I was completely ok with all of this and just this evening I realized how much it was really bothering me. 

Today he crossed the fucking line. The feeling that lurked somewhere in the back of my mind now reared its ugly head and I felt like I reached my limits. 

I said I was there for the show. I actually never really get to see it, because I myself can’t be seen. It had been months since I last watched their concert and this past week I just waited for him in the green room. But tonight he insisted that I be there. I finally agreed, even though it really meant just lurking by the side, under the stage level with the staff, watching what was going on onstage on the monitor with Steve who’s in charge of big screens. 

The camera loved him. And he loved it back, losing himself in the moment as he got high on the music they made. The audience was losing it too, screaming in frenzy because he made them feral. It all looked just like one big orgy. I had seen it many times before, that’s why I didn’t really want to be there, but I still couldn’t get my eyes off that screen. I was very familiar with all those faces he made. I had heard those moans before, I had watched him arch his back just like that before, the way he bit his lip, how his brows furrowed… I could tell he got bolder with it over time. I was mesmerized, but there was one big problem. The whole arena was watching this with me now, equally enchanted, but he was interacting with them and I felt unwelcome. I had seen some pictures, watched two or three shorts, but nothing could prepare me for this. 

He ran down the stage a few times that evening, waved at me the first time, blew me a kiss a moment later, but as the evening progressed, I suddenly felt like losing him. It was an unwelcome surge of panic and just when I thought I got it under control, he ran past me and the next thing I saw on the screen was him right at the barricade, letting himself be hugged and groped by all those random people. I had enough. I couldn’t breathe. I excused myself and ran to the green room to pour myself a generous amount of whiskey. 

Fast forward back to where we were, in the car on our way back to the hotel. “Not here,” I retorted. “Later.” The rest of the ride was tense. He kept looking sideways at me, I kept being extremely absorbed in examining the hem of my shirt. As soon as the door of our shared apartment closed behind us, he confronted me. 

“So, we’re here. Care to explain why you’ve been behaving like such an insufferable bitch tonight?”

“Oh that’s rich, Joshua. By all means feel free to make it aaaall about my behavior again. Nothing wrong with you acting like an insolent and inconsiderate slut!” 

“Inconsiderate…” He looked as if I just punched him. 

“Yes!” I hissed, “inconsiderate! You know, it’s funny how you find this worth reacting…but not the fact that I just called you a slut.”

He just laughed and shook his head in disbelief as he headed straight to the minibar to pour  himself a drink. “Well,” he trilled, “you didn’t shake the bitch allegations either, my love. At least I’m fun to be around.” 

I just huffed and went towards the balcony to open the glass door. I really needed some fresh air. “Yeah, I’m not amused. But you don’t seem to mind. You were having a really good time there, with their hideous, overlong nails scratching your tits. Or when you were moaning into the microphone, almost pretending that you were fucking them all.” With that, I collapsed on the couch. 

“So what do you want me to do to amuse you? You want me to fuck you? Let’s fuck in earnest, no pretending.  Will that make it better? Do you want me to show you what and who I’m REALLY thinking about when their nails scratch my skin?”

“No Josh, you fucking me wouldn’t really sort out anything I’m afraid, because right now I feel like you’re fucking with me all the fucking time. I want to claim you, because I love the way you’re looking at me when I’m deep inside you and when you have to bite your lower lip just to stop it from quivering, you know. Not only because I really, really love that sight, but also because only then I feel like I’m the only person on your radar. And that’s what I need now.”

He watched me avidly, with his head slightly tilted and his expression almost unreadable, except for the obvious arousal that was silently flowing through his whole body, and I swear you could see it glimmering behind his pupils. I definitely could see it in his tight pants. I would lie if I said that I wasn’t aroused. Truth be told, I needed to fuck him, badly. We could continue bitching about each other’s behavior later. For now, angry fuck would do…

He put his glass down and slowly took off his sun jacket, all without breaking eye contact. It was like watching him in slow motion, when he palmed his hardening dick through the white satin, squeezed it briefly and then stroked it gently a few times. He loved this. He was a born entertainer, always ready to please the audience. I couldn’t help but admire the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. I was his audience now, and I had to admit to myself that this was a completely different show. 

“Ok, that’s convenient, because I’d really love you to finish what I started.” 

I had no clue what he was talking about and watched him – flabbergasted – as he turned around, pulled his pants down and bent over to unfasten the cuffs around his ankles. That’s when I saw it. A little sparkly gem between his buttcheeks. I recognised the tiny steel buttplug with a faceted stone immediately, even though we hadn’t used it much. I gave it to him for Christmas, and later he joked that it really fit the Starcatcher aesthetics, so maybe he should wear it with the rest of his jewelry, but I didn’t really expect him to actually do it!

“Josh…did you have it in for the whole show?” I tried to keep it cool, but the words only came out as a breathy whisper. He only chuckled and stretched like a cat to relieve his stiff muscles. He was still acting, completely naked now, exaggerating every move just to torture me. 

“No, darling. I wanted to, but they would have seen it under the jumpsuit. It’s quite tight, isn’t it. No, I put it in for es-tee-tee. Colors, gems and trim, darling. Now, let’s take a shower first. And close your mouth, or else I’ll fill it.” And with that he strutted into the bathroom without even waiting for me, shaking that tiny bejeweled ass just for the show. He knew that I would follow. He already had me in his grasp, metaphorically speaking. 

We often showered together. That was our personal habit, both at home or when I accompanied him on his travels. It was always our sweet moment of seclusion in his otherwise busy schedule. Very intimate, but not always blatantly sexual. Of course, sometimes it WAS blatantly sexual, but oftentimes we just talked a lot, kissed a lot, washed each other’s hair, just took care of each other. Just tracing my fingers down his spine was enough to help me forget about the gloomy world beyond our walls. Not to mention being inside his walls, but I digress…

I took my time. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of following him like a pet dog, so I stripped slowly, took a few more sips of my drink and walked indolently into the bathroom. Just for the show. I expected him to wait for me by the counter, but he didn’t. He was already in the shower, steam already filling the room. I slid the glass door open and started. He was standing there, right under the stream, facing the door, his eyes boring into me. He was quite a sight, too. Not having bothered with the stage makeup, the streaks of smudged eyeliner were now running down his cheeks, over the remaining rhinestones. Wet hair already flattened and pulled back. This was intentional. He was still provoking me. 

We just observed each other warily before he broke the silence and asked me nonchalantly if I could just wash his back. I gestured to him to turn around and did as he asked. I poured the vanilla-scented body wash in my hands and soaped his body with it, just like I always did. And just like he always did, he started talking about the events of the day. Some tiktok video they filmed after the soundcheck that I didn’t care about. 

His tone was completely casual, in spite of the fact that I held his balls firmly in my hand, gently massaging them with my soap-covered hand. I let my other hand travel slowly down his left buttcheek towards that little surprise he had there for me previously. 

“So tell me, Josh. Why this?” 

I watched him smile at the question. His previous restlessness suddenly made perfect sense. The whole time I was sulking and worrying about us, about his behavior and his intentions, he was just getting himself off. I took the bejeweled plug in my fingers and twisted it gently. He arched his back and moaned softly. I just loved listening to him. His lovely mouth could elicit the most delicious high-pitched whimpers. So I did it again. This time, his head landed on my shoulder, exposing his neck to me. I let my nose brush against my favorite place right under his earlobe. This was dangerous territory. Everytime I let myself wander through the smooth valleys of his lithe body, I was close to losing my mind, and he knew it. He was narcotic. Normally, it just meant that earth-shattering sex would follow, but I needed to stay focused, because I had to resolve this first: “Fucking tell me, Josh,” I hissed.

“I…I like to keep myself perked up, my love. I can’t go onstage…oh, yes, thee-e-e-ere…I can’t go onstage drunk, or high…dammit…that would, aaah would be unprofessional, yeah?” He chuckled.  “So I just keep myself turned-on instead. It’s good for the show.”

“For the show, eh? You’re a liar.”

“No…no-ah, I’m not lying, dear. I keep myself turned on…and when I feel the rhythm in my bones and when I let the… the melody soar through my veins, I imagine your dick inside me. Or your fingers. Aaaall because they lo-oooh-love seeing me like that. So you see, it’s good for the show. They can feel it. Our love. Just…genuine…love. The feeling is omnipresent…and I want to share it.”

The insolence! “You see Josh, that’s the problem,” I whispered while my teeth grazed his jugular, “I don’t want to share it.”

With that, he turned around and kissed me gently, letting the tip of his tongue just brush against mine. With his left hand stroking the nape of my neck, his right palm slowly wandered down my torso, fingertips lightly grazing my left nipple, and further down, until he had me in his grasp, now literally speaking. I fell under his spell again, utterly and completely, and I no longer wanted to fight it. I had to remind myself that tonight was supposed to be my night, that I was supposed to be in control, but I was slowly losing it anyway. He sensed it, and generously put me back on track, while still jerking me off. 

“Honey, this is us. This is just us. I share the miracle, you see? That’s my job. But you don’t share me with anyone. You own me!” 

Oh yeah, that worked. His words felt like a detonator. Perhaps more than he had intended them to. I’m sure they were partly meant to soothe me, but something really snapped in me and all those pent-up emotions suddenly begged to be released. I lost all my remaining mental clarity and acted upon it without really thinking. I pushed him against the wall and firmly wrapped my hand around his throat. His head hit the tiles with a dull thud and even though my own actions took me by surprise and I saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes, I couldn’t stop. I kept him pinned to the wall with my thigh pushing his legs apart. He belonged to me, and I needed him to understand it.

I’m not the world’s strongest man, but I’m bigger than him. Three inches taller, and I could overpower him without much difficulty. That’s why I had always been rather gentle with him, even though he’s a hotheaded bastard and always fights back like a mad chihuahua. Not this time. He just watched me with those doe-like eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, while his hands just rested on my chest. I barely felt the touch. He was a meek lamb, a rag doll, but his face told me a different story. I could see his previously bewildered expression transform into a defiant one. He tilted his chin up, nostrils flared. He was daring me, breathing heavily and waiting for my next move.  

“Damn right I do! Fuck, you’re mine,” I growled and tightened my grip on his neck, while my other hand kneaded his left buttock.  

He whimpered and I recognized the sound. I’d heard it many times before. Everytime I pounded into him with feral force, when I pulled his hair, or when I smacked his ass, because that was the only part of his body I ever dared to leave a mark on. 

“You like this, you little fucker.”

He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly through his nose. I could feel his semi spring up and twitch against my thigh. I could tell just by his fingertips now clawing at my chest that he really did. But I needed to hear it. 

“Answer me!” 

“Yeah,” he finally breathed out and our eyes met again. 

We were both very sensual people, but never overly violent with each other. It’s not that the idea never crossed my mind, because I really like rough fuck. Sue me. I’d had my fair share of “tough love” during the time spent with my previous lovers. Truth be told, he was often pushing my buttons, and it took all my willpower not to act. All smiles and sunshine on the outside, he could be an insufferable brat sometimes. I just always had to remind myself that I couldn’t leave a mark, even though his own nails frequently branded me with scratches. But that was it. It was part of the deal. I treated him like my pampered darling, even at times when I just had to shut him up with a gag… some occassional BD sans SM, that’s how we rolled. It just occurred to me that treating him like that might have been a mistake. I just had to make sure that he was really agreeing to this.

I let go of his neck and let my fingers travel up his jaw and into his wet hair, all without breaking eye contact. We were watching each other intently, trying to communicate without words, searching for clues. I cradled his head in my hands, my fingers massaging the back of his head. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. 

“Does it hurt?” 

He shook his head silently. I placed a trail of short kisses up his neck until I reached his earlobe and nibbled on it gently. I felt him pull me closer to him as he pressed his fingertips convulsively into the flesh on my hips until it almost hurt.

“Are you ok?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded and rubbed his nose against my cheek. A brief moment of tenderness was exactly what we both needed to reassess our position. Now it was the time to remind him of his role…

“Fine, on your knees!” I pushed him down, perhaps with not enough force, because it did not wipe that defiant look off his face, but I was well aware of the fact that he also still had that thing deep inside him. I was pumped, but not reckless. He was now kneeling right under the shower stream, small rivulets of water running down his face as he looked up at me, blinking. I had to take a deep breath not to cum just from the sight.  

“Open your mouth.”

…and he didn’t. Because he knew. That dastardly sneer of his is going to be the end of me one day, but I usually tolerate it. Not only because it’s hot as fuck, but also because it tells me he knows what I need. Or better yet, what he makes me need…and crave. I certainly hadn’t known that I needed my head to be treated like a lollypop until he taught me it was what I craved. Parting his lips ever so slightly, it just rested on them until he darted his tongue out into the slit, savoring every little drop of my precum. He had this habit of looking up at me when he was doing this, because he knew it was driving me crazy. 

So that’s what he was doing. Licking at my glans, watching me, daringly. I wasn’t having it. Enough of this game. I grabbed his head and buried my cock in the back of his throat. He gagged on it violently, darting his head backwards. I was still holding his head in both of my hands, though, and pushed him back, fucking his mouth in ferocious speed until he tapped on my thigh. Only then I released my grasp, watching him gasp for air. He looked up at me again, and whispered: “More.” 

And more he got. Oh god, that was so sexy, him literally begging me to choke him with my dick. I adjusted my pace, sliding in and out of those full, swollen lips. Grabbing my butt with both his hands, he urged me to go deeper, to fill him up, to obstruct his airway passage again. He tried to relax, letting my cock glide smoothly on his velvet tongue. I was getting close, dangerously close, but I wasn’t done with him yet. His mouth was perfect, but I needed more. 

Before I stopped, I grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pushed him down my shaft and held him there for a while, until I felt his throat contract and his body convulsed. Another gag, another gasp. I let go and tilted his chin up lightly with my index finger. The running water quickly washed away the thick strings of saliva and the tears, but he still looked a mess, exhausted and tamed. He was also very hard, his eyes not the only thing looking at me. He loved this. A wave of tenderness washed over me again. Damn, it was always like this with him. A real rollercoaster of feelings. 

“Come here, my filthy princess.” 

I grabbed him by the arms, pushed him up on his feet again and pulled him into a tight embrace. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine, deep breaths interspersed with intermittent, barely audible chuckles. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Not funny, just…exhilarating.” 

My good boy. He deserved a reward. I bowed down and ran a few circles around his hardened nipple with the tip of my tongue, because he loved that. You might think I’m too soft, but this is what makes the experience really intense. I was still pissed, and full of adrenaline, but it was all because I loved him so much, and I needed him to feel it all. I ran my fingers down his spine, scratching his skin with my nails, perhaps more than necessary. But it was necessary. With the actual words still stuck in my throat, the touch was my language now. He looked at me again with a sweet smile, the tip of his tongue grazing his upper lip.

“So…now that it’s settled and I promise to be good, are you going to do that thing, darling?”

“That thing” meant me sucking his dick with my fingers knuckles deep in his ass. “Yeah, baby, you’ve earned it,” I stroked his cheek with my right hand while the left one traveled down right between his asscheeks...”let’s pull this out, then?” He nodded and turned around, resting his elbows against the tiles. It was my turn to get down on my knees. Yeah, I hear you, not very dominant of me, but you need to understand that this man has got the most fabulous ass I’ve ever seen, and I swear I’m gonna kiss and bite and spread and lick it any time I get the opportunity to do so. 

I put some shower gel on my fingers and circled them around the plug. “Try to relax.”

“I know,” he spat impatiently through his teeth. That earned him a smack on his right buttock. Brat. I pulled the plug out gently, eliciting a long, breathy and relieved moan from him. I massaged the opening a bit, washing the rest of the soap out, before I grabbed him with both hands to spread him a bit more for me. What a glorious view. I buried my face in it and darted my tongue out. 

“Oh god,” he breathed out as I licked into him. 

The flowing water was starting to get on my nerves so I turned it off before I turned him around to face me. It was now my turn to taste his leaking tip. A few swift cat licks made him clutch at my shoulders tight and he almost lost his balance when I swallowed him whole. I reached behind him and gently pushed my middle finger inside him while my head bobbed up and down his dick. I pushed my finger deeper, curled it towards me and set a steady rhythm of my movements. 

His breath suddenly quickened and I could feel him pulsate on my tongue. It was a matter of mere seconds. No. I stopped, retreated abruptly and stood up. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he was gaping at me in disbelief. I just smiled at him maliciously. He thought he could play with me, so let’s make this a shared experience. 

“What the hell?!?” My plan worked perfectly. He practically shouted it at me. He was furious. Cute. 

“I haven’t come yet, so what on earth made you think that I would let YOU, “ I smirked.

“Fuck you!” he pushed me aside forcefully and stormed out of the shower, heading back into the bedroom. Dripping wet, he slipped on the floor and almost fell, which gave me more time to react. 

I ran after him. “Hey, where the fuck are yo…ouch!” The fucker slammed the bathroom door right in my face. I threw it open again with force, triyng to catch him. He was just by the bed when I reached out for his hair and yanked him back, making his back collide with my chest. “Ouch, that hurt, you bastard!” he yelled as he tried to break free from my grasp, squirming, but he stood no chance. 

“Do you want me to stop?” I hissed in his ear. 

“No…” Good. I pushed him face down on the bed, grabbed his wrists and held them firmly behind his back. I needed him to stay that way, so I searched the ground for something I could use. My eyes spotted a bathrobe that I tossed over the armchair earlier that day. Perfect. “Don’t move!” I got off him for a while to get what I needed. He looked over his shoulder, watching me as I pulled the belt out of the loops. He didn’t move, lying face down by the edge of the bed, ass up. My obedient baby.

I grabbed his wrists again and showed him the belt, making it obvious what I was going to do. “You ok with this?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

I nodded, tied his wrists behind his back and went searching for the lube. “I’m going to fuck you now, and I’m not going to be gentle about it. If it becomes too much, or you just want me to stop, just say stop. Do you understand?

“Yes.” 

“Fine. Oh, here it is.” I squeezed a generous amount of the lube on my fingers and put two of them to his asshole, rubbing it in circles before I pushed them in slowly. He was already almost ready from before, but I needed him to relax a bit more. “Now listen, I will let you cum this time. No monkey business. But I want the same from you. If you wanna cum, you’re going to behave. You’re going to beg for it. Understand?” I added a third finger and he whimpered and bit his lip, huffing. I was getting impatient. “Do-you-under-stand!?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yes, I understand. Fuck me please. I’ll behave.”

I withdrew, slapped his butt, rubbed the remaining lube all over my cock, positioned myself and… pushed in. I had to focus all of my self-control on not pushing all the way in. He was so tight and warm and inviting, and I was all worked-up. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but I just couldn’t get enough of it at the same time. His quick and shallow breaths told me that he felt pretty much the same. After several languid thrusts during which we both somehow managed to regain our composure and I quickened my pace. I grabbed his bound wrists in one hand and held his head down with the other. The room was filled with our synched moans and the slapping sound of our flesh colliding. I couldn’t get enough of him.

I grabbed his ass and slammed into him with full force. He cried out and begged me for more. His profile was absolutely entrancing, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open, his melodic whines in sync with my thrusts. I needed to see more of it, so I unbound his wrists, pulled out and turned him over. 

I grabbed his ankles instead and forced his legs up, before I buried myself in him again. My heart was beating wildly. I felt the poisonous cocktail of all the previously suppressed and boiling emotions fill my veins as the pleasure overcame my senses. “Look at me!” He watched me, bewildered, while I rammed into him, sweaty and almost out of breath. Suddenly all I could hear were my own labored grunts, while he just stared at me, wide-eyed and speechless. 

“Cat got your tongue, hm? Always so…eloquent…with…them all…but not one…spare word…for your dirty little secret!” 

Adrenaline running in my veins, I continued pounding into him and almost missed the sudden shift in his mood and movements. 

“Tom…”

It was barely a whisper at first, but soon he became more and more agitated. “Tom…Tom, please. TOM! Hold on…stop…”

His face twisted in clear discomfort and his hands were clawing at my chest. I pulled out carefully. “What happened Josh? Did I hurt you?”

“No…no, m’fine. S’just a bit overwhelming, is all,” he mumbled. “Can you kiss me?”

I let his legs slide down my shoulders, leaned down and softly brushed my lips with his. I was confused, but also desperate to make this better, whatever it was. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and tried to make him look at me, but his eyes scanned the ceiling erratically and he blinked several times as he obviously tried to fight back the tears. But I could see that his eyes were already red. Now it was my turn to start panicking. Was he afraid of me? “Josh! Josh, honey, please, look at me. Are you hurt?” He shook his head and sobbed. Then his eyes finally met mine: “No, I’m alright. It’s just…please, don’t hate me Tom. I can’t stand you hating me. I was just trying to protect you.” 

The realization that hit him a minute ago now backfired back to me. And just like that my heart shattered into millions of microscopic pieces. I searched his face for more answers, those big, tearful eyes staring back at me. I stroked his hair tentatively. All the previous tension and anger dissolved and he was my sunshine boy again, but these were mere pale winter beams, and it was my fault, and the realization chilled me to my bones. He was weeping silently under me, obscured by my clouds. 

I moved slowly from between his legs and pulled him up into my embrace. He was reluctant at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around me. We just sat there for a while, cradling each other.  “I could never…,” I whispered against the damp skin right above his collarbone. “I’m just a terrible, jealous guy.”

“No, I made you jealous. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t realize…”

He couldn’t have. He’s the one who always lets his feelings pour out of him. I’ve always struggled with this. Not that I didn’t want to tell what was bothering me, I just couldn’t translate the whirlwind of my thoughts into coherent sentences. Just tell me what’s wrong, Tom. My previous lovers often lost patience with me. They always thought I didn’t want to talk and then our arguments ended with them giving up on me. Not him. He tried to make me laugh, he tried to make me yell, he tried to seduce me and he let me take all of him. I held him tight. I couldn’t let go. I was on the verge of tears, but it was him who needed comfort. I just hoped that I could give it to him. It was him who finally broke the silence. 

“Tom…” It was barely a whisper. 

“Yes?”

“I just hope you know I love you.” 

I finally loosened the embrace to look at him. My mouth was dry and my throat felt constricted, but I somehow managed to force out at least a weak “I do.” But that wasn’t enough. I knew I needed to say more: “…yes, baby, you’ve been telling me…I’m sorry,” I croaked. He took a deep breath and continued. 

“But hearing is not the same as feeling it…and,” he cleared his throat,”...and sometimes I need to feel it too. Sometimes it feels like you’re not even present. In your secret hiding place behind a thick wall and I just can’t get in!”

I buried my face in my hands. I needed a minute to process the evening’s events. “So, you seek it elsewhere?” I regretted those words almost instantly, but at least I finally forced myself to speak. 

“What do you mean? God, no!”

“No, not like that. I mean all those people, the plug. You didn’t really expl…” 

“I already told you! I wanted to share what we have.”

“By letting them touch you…”

“Cut it already!” He slapped the mattress, furious once again. “Yes, maybe you’re right…to a certain extent,” he spat out at me. “Yes, I let them touch me. I share a lot with people. It’s fulfilling and it feels natural. But it’s a different kind of love. And they understand. They didn’t grab at me, no one tried to pull me in. I share a lot with them but I don’t belong to them. But I agree with you that it's very personal. I thought about doing that for quite a while, but couldn’t find the courage to do so…unless I felt you there with me. I do miss you there. Sometimes I just miss you… anyway, about the plug…I guess today felt like a perfect day to try it. Please just tell me you understand, because I’m getting really sick of this.”

The plug was a gift from me, so yeah, I understood…kind of. Touch is important to him. But... “But why today?”

“Oh Tom,” he was tearful again. “Oh, fuck you. Really. It’s exactly three years since the day you first told me that you loved me.”

I just stared at him for a while, speechless. Then I finally lost it and started crying. “I’m a terrible person.” I felt like shit, I treated him like shit and really deserved to get a taste of my own medicine, in one way or another. But Josh is not like that. He doesn’t do that. And so it was now his turn to hug me, even though I tried to back away at first. But he’s stubborn, too. “You know, Tom, I felt it today. Among other things…”

“Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive. I understand.”

“No, you don’t... Listen Josh, I don’t need you to protect me. If anything, it should be the other way round. But I do need to feel like I belong in your life. I…I’m not sure I could continue like this.” 

Here, I finally said that. I had been afraid to utter those words aloud, because I knew they were dangerous. I expected another argument to follow, and maybe it would be the last one this time. But he only sighed and I felt him nod lightly against my shoulder. “I guess we need to make some inevitable changes then.”

I knew what he meant, but this was not just about me. And it was not just me who he’d been trying to protect. Himself, too, but also others in a way…

“Are you ready to make those changes?”

“I guess so…” 

We looked each other in the eye once more, trying to communicate the rest. At last I stood up and offered him my hand. “Come on, let me fix you a nice, hot bath.”

“No.” He took it but didn’t move. Instead, he tried to pull me back to bed. 

“No?” “No Tom, come back here, please. Make love to me.” 

He was sooo good at playing with my heartstrings. He really wanted me. He still trusted me. And from the look on his face, he needed me. I climbed back to him, took his face in my hands and kissed it. I traced my parted lips across his cheek and down to his jaw. He was like the oxygen I needed in order to stay alive and I was breathing him in. I continued upwards until our lips finally locked together. It was the first genuine kiss we shared that evening. 

How…?

“Spoon me.” As he lay down, I retrieved the previously discarded tube from the floor, lubed my fingers and cock once again and snuggled behind him. I didn’t rush it, and repeated the process once more that evening. I was nothing but tender this time, but he thought otherwise. He took my hand that was stroking his bare chest, placed it on his neck and tilted his head back. “Choke me.”

“Josh, I…you…” “Shhh, just do it. Please.” And I did. I wrapped my fingers around his throat and pulled him firmly back towards me. It wasn’t harsh. He let himself be completely vulnerable with me and I wanted to cherish it. I just rested my hand there, holding him firmly, but not with too much pressure. I could feel his pulse beating against my palm, every intake of breath. This was different than before. A moment of raw intimacy. He arched his back and reached behind to grab the back of my head. He knows I like that. I rewarded him with slow and deep thrusts, just how he loves it. He was moaning melodically to the rhythm, singing a secret song just for me now, and we rocked in tandem slowly, meeting each other halfway. Nothing else was necessary, this was everything. 

I took control again soon. Quickening my pace, I thrusted into him with a frantic urge. Goosebumps appeared all over his skin, which told me that he was very close. He always got shivers when he was approaching orgasm while I fucked him. Almost as if he was feverish. “Maddening ecstasy” – those were his words with which he once described it. I could feel him tense and tighten around me and rolled my hips once more to hit that perfect spot. “Oh my ggggnnnh Toooooohmmm….,” he let out a high pitched scream and came hard, his whole body convulsing. 

He was literally sobbing. I slowed my movements to a near stop and held his shivering body tight in my arms, waiting for his breathing to slow down. I was just about to pull out when he started moving again against me, urging me to continue, but I grabbed his hip and made him stop. He looked up at me, frowning. “What?” “Are you sure? It’s been a long night…” “No, Tom, don’t worry…come on, go on.”

I moved again tentatively, looking for any clue of his discomfort. He encouraged me again and I gradually resumed my pace. It didn’t take long. With a final groan, I buried my face in his hair, holding his now almost limp and exhausted body pressed to mine while I threshed about in an almost comical way, keeping him swaying in unison with me. We shifted a bit so that he was lying  on his belly now, me hovering above him. With the last few erratic thrusts I filled him up and we finally collapsed together into the pillows. 

We barely moved for at least another ten minutes, limbs still intertwined, eyes closed and our torsos literally glued together with sweat. Both of us simply wanted to prolong the moment, but I was slowly becoming aware of the world around us. We had left the glass door leading to the balcony open and the evening breeze finally pulled us back to reality. 

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I think a few people might have overheard us.” “Uh huh…ok…good.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Love sticks, sweat drips Break the lock if it don't fit A kick in the teeth is good for some A kiss with a fist is better than none (Florence and the Machine)

@writingcold @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness @fleet-of-fiction

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #greta van smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #slash fanfiction

[katuschka]

Oh yeah, her awesomeness is off the charts. :D

Y'all I love @writingcold she's so sweet 🥹

[katuschka]

the solar eclipse

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sun moon

[katuschka]

Yes, the world needs this.

Show & Tell

Josh Kiszka/F Reader

4.3k words

Explicit sexual content 18+

Warnings - sexual content, established relationship, manhandling, masturbation, oral sex, rough sex, degrading talk, anal play, toys. (THIS ISN'T GOING TO BE EVERYONE'S CUP OF TEA)

Spice rating 🌶️🌶️

This is fiction. If you spot a typo or a missed warning, let me know!

This is 100% not dedicated to @lvnterninthenight or @katuschka who were of absolutely zero help while I was working on this. You know both know why you pair of rusty rivets 👀

Thank you to the wonderful @writingcold for her services as comma police.

Sneaking back to the dressing room while the others were being primped and checked over before the photoshoot, Josh headed straight for his phone. A single notification on the screen showed 'y/n sent a picture'. Intrigued, he unlocked his phone and opened the WhatsApp message.

Y/n: NSFB 👀

Underneath was a disappearing photo message.

He giggled to himself. Not Safe For Brothers. The acronym you'd come up with after Sam had been reading the sexts you were sending each other over Josh's shoulder. You had been mortified but undeterred.

Clicking the lock on the dressing room door, he made sure he wasn't going to be disturbed. He sank down onto the chair at the dressing table. Fluffing his hair in the mirror, he gave himself a quick once over, admiring the way his makeup looked even better in the glow of the lights surrounding the mirror. Sitting back in the chair, he unlocked his phone again.

He tapped the photo message and his eyes widened. It had been some feat to get a good angle. You had tried the timer and the tripod but neither were really capturing what you wanted. The image showed you from behind, only capturing you from the waist down. You were sat back on your heels wearing the skimpiest baby blue thong you could find. He adored that colour against your skin. Josh's heart rate quickened as he took in the main attraction. The fluffiest white bunny tail nestled perfectly between your ass cheeks. Imposed over the image, in glowing font were the words "the Easter Bunny was busy this year so I'll take her place".

Juxtaposed with the adorable cotton candy pompom was the rest of your scantily clad body. His eyes scanned the photo, knowing that he would only get one chance to see it. Trying to commit every curve and freckle to memory, Josh gazed in awe at the image on his screen. His cock was rapidly filling out as his imagination ran wild. Thoughts of what you had been up to at home with that fluffy little thing were intoxicating. Surely it was just attached to the underwear. Or was it something else?

Josh: Is that what I think it is?

Y/n: That depends. What do you think it is?

Desperate to get the answer he wanted, he bit his fat bottom lip hard as he typed out the reply. Before he could press send, you beat him to it.

Y/n: You said you wanted to show me how good it can be. Is that not what you meant?

Sensing that you were suddenly growing self conscious, Josh deleted and retyped his response.

Josh: You 100% did not misunderstand. That is the hottest thing I've ever seen. Fuck, I'm so hard.

In his mind's eye, he pictured you slicking yourself up as you prepared to slide the cute little plug into your perfect ass for the first time.

Josh: Did it hurt? Do you like it? Tell me everything.

Y/n: I love it Josh.

Josh: Fuck y/n. If I come in my pants in the middle of this photoshoot, you're in trouble.

Y/n: Is that a promise?

Josh: You're already in trouble for playing with your pretty hole without me. Get yourself off and then take it out. When I get home, you're going to show me exactly what you did but this time, I get to put it in. Got it?

Y/n: Got it.

Josh: You're so fucking dirty. I love it. Gotta go xoxo

***

When Josh burst through the front door 2 hours later, you were painting your nails at the dining room table. He barrelled through the house to find you and when he did, the torment on his face was like nothing you had ever seen. His eyes were hungry and his hands restless. Chest already heaving, he glared at you where you sat so innocently.

"There she is. Filth personified. Upstairs," he ordered.

"Let me finish this and then we can play," you replied, not ready to let him have his way so easily.

"I'm sorry. Were you under the impression this was open to negotiation?" He replied, incredulous.

"Don’t be a diva, Josh. My nails are still wet. They'll smudge," you scoffed.

He huffed out a hot breath through his nose. Irritation and arousal rose by the second. He was about to see red. Watching him grow more impatient was thrilling. You didn't really care about your nails at all. The anticipation had been building for you both since that message was opened. Now it was a battle of wills and you were winning.

He stormed towards you, jaw set, ready for war. When he reached where you were sitting, he grabbed your wrist and roughly yanked you to your feet. Nose to nose, he spoke through gritted teeth.

"You're already in trouble little girl, behave yourself and I'll play nice," he growled. This close, you could see the way his cheeks were already flushed and his pupils dilated.

God, he was so fucking hot and you were impossibly turned on already. You loved every facet of Josh but something about him in his rage made him particularly captivating. His piercing stare made you avert your eyes. All you could do was look down at your feet and nod. His hand came up to your throat, thumb tipping your chin up to look at him.

"Let's try this again, shall we? Pretty please - love of my life, best cock sucker in the universe and filthiest whore I've ever met - go upstairs," he said through clenched teeth, a fake smile and a flutter of eyelashes.

"Yes, Josh," you said sweetly, turning away from him.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Josh followed hot on your heels. He groped your ass through your runner shorts, muttering to himself as you headed towards the bedroom.

"Uh-uh," he said firmly, "not there."

He walked along the landing to the locked door and reached up on his tiptoes to the top of the door frame. He felt around a little and retrieved the key that was hidden there. Beyond the locked door was a room of endless possibilities. Your palms became clammy knowing that he wanted to take you in there and not the bedroom. Sliding the key into the lock, he cast a devious look back at you. As the tumblers in the lock turned, you approached the play room.

Your habits in the bedroom had been less than vanilla when you met Josh. The saying "lie back and think of England" pretty much summed it up. He had opened your eyes to a whole world of new sensations and erotic experiences. He had given you 'homework' and taught you how to explore your own body and his and for that you were eternally grateful. In the playroom, you had been on the receiving end of Josh's punishments before but you hoped he would be lenient this time.

Stepping inside, he flicked on the lights and bathed the room in a warm glow. Already soaked, you waited anxiously for Josh's instruction. Your body's response to being in the room was Pavlovian but a ripple of nerves lay just beneath your skin. Trying something new on your own was one thing but showing Josh? Before you were about to chicken out, your eyes found his and he motioned for you to step towards him.

Dark, lustful eyes studied your expression.

"You ready to play nice?" He asked, his anger had dissipated but was still simmering under the surface. You could see it in the way the muscles of his arms tensed while he flexed his fingers at his sides, as if squaring up for a fight. He was giving you a second chance at redemption and you were ready to take it wholeheartedly.

"Always," you smiled back at him, placing your palm flat over his heart. Beneath his shirt, his heart was hammering in his ribcage. Dropping your eyes to where you touched him, you noticed the intense thrum of his pulse at his jugular.

His shoulders dropped a fraction from his ears as the tension he was holding there left him. His features softened and he rushed to wrap his arms around you, pressing delicate kisses to the side of your neck.

"You got me so worked up, I could barely think straight, mama," he confided with a heavy sigh. 

"I'm sorry, Josh," your heart sank as you realised you may have pushed him a little too far. Sure, he could act the part of a punishing dom in the playroom if it was required, but deep down he was such a lover. You stroked the velvety soft hair at his temples where it was buzzed short. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your perfume and the scent of your shampoo.

"No, I'm sorry. Can we start over? I just wanna see what made you feel good. Will you show me? Please?" he said as he pulled back to meet your eyes. His pleading expression and the warm cinnamon tones of his irises made you melt.

Taking his hand, you led him to the sleek, black chaise longue in the middle of the playroom. It wouldn't have looked too out of place in a normal living room but you knew better. Josh had picked it out from some fancy fetish website and surprised you with it. The curved couch had infinite uses and you were keen to explore all of them with Josh. You kneeled on the seat, draping yourself over the higher curve of the chaise and propping yourself up on your elbows. Presenting yourself for him made a blush rise in your cheeks and your heart rate quicken. The smooth leather was cool on your heated skin, making you gasp a little. Josh joined you, sitting on the lower section, a foot planted on either side. He instantly reached for your ass, kneading and grabbing at you through your shorts.

"Can you help me take these off please?" You asked, shooting a sultry look back at Josh.

He didn't speak. Instead, he ran featherlight touches from the soles of your bare feet, up the back of your calves, lingering on the delicate skin behind your knees. A giggle escaped from you at the ticklish sensation. Then, he ventured further, gently caressing the backs of your thighs causing goosebumps to appear all over your body. Switching from slow, delicate strokes, he dragged his nails over your skin, enjoying the hiss it elicited from you. He stayed there for a moment, exploring how sensitive you were there until something else caught his eye.

Just below the hem of your shorts, Josh could see the swell of your ass cheeks. He ran his hands up higher, fingers splaying over the curves of your body. His thumbs caressed the crease where your thighs and ass met. Watching him over your shoulder, he was entranced. The building tension was becoming unbearable and now it was your turn to be impatient. You wiggled your ass slightly in encouragement causing a blissed out smile to form on his face. He reached for the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down at an impossibly slow pace. As he slowly revealed your skin, bereft of any underwear, he looked like he had just won a million dollars.

When you were fully bare to him, he pulled in a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment. Still fully clothed in his infamous white tee and chinos combo, his hardness was pressed against the seam of his pants. Sat straddled on the couch, his thick thighs framed the bulge in his trousers, making you salivate. He seemed completely unaware, hypnotized by his prize presented to him.

Tentatively, he placed a hand on each ass cheek. His fingers spread over the soft skin there and dug in just a little.

"Tell me," he said quietly, as if in supplication.

A rush of shame heated your face as you tried to find the words.

"I- I- uh.. did some research," you started, suddenly hesitant.

Josh just waited for you to continue.

"I took a nice long shower, cleaned up real good," as you spoke, his warm hands massaged your ass while he listened intently.

"Then what?" He asked, hanging on your every word.

"I played with the wand first to get relaxed," Josh hummed his approval as his hands slowly spread you open causing you to stutter, "Then- fuck- then I got that expensive lube you keep in your bedside drawer and put a little on my fingers."

Somehow, describing your experience to Josh was far more erotic than you had anticipated. Your cunt throbbed, neglected of any attention and you knew he would be able to see how wet you were for him.

Before you could continue, he stood and went to rummage in a drawer. He returned holding a bottle of lube you had never seen before. The label was powder pink and you couldn't quite make out the writing from your position. He set it down beside the couch and removed his shirt and pants. Seeing him in just his tight, black boxers with his raging cock threatening to split the seams made your head spin. As he sat back down, he scooted even closer, picking the bottle back up again.

"Show me," he said. A warm palm rested on your outer thigh as he pressed a light kiss to the base of your spine.

Reaching a hand back behind yourself, Josh courteously pumped some of the lube onto your waiting fingers. Satisfied it would be enough, he placed the bottle back on the floor. With eager hands, he spread you again, giving himself a full view of what he so desperately wanted to see.

You braced yourself for the coldness of the liquid as you lightly pressed your middle finger between your cheeks. Josh groaned out a pained moan as he watched your every move. Your embarrassment subsided only to be replaced by a need to please. Knowing he was fixated on your actions only spurred you on. Slowly, you spread the lube in circles. With one hand, Josh gripped your ass cheek harder, nails biting into the skin ever so slightly, spreading you wider and making your pussy squeeze around nothing. The other applied pressure to the small of your back, making you arch more for him. Muttered curses fell from Josh's plush lips. A cautious thumb inched closer to where you were touching yourself for him. Feeling bold, you pushed the tip of your finger inside yourself and a low growl reverberated from his chest. 

"Fuuuck... That's incredible. Tell me how it feels," his husky voice sent sensations tingling to every nerve in your body. 

"Mhmm. Feels so... different. Feels nice," you replied, gently pulsing your finger in and out, putting on a show for him. 

"Can I try?" his voice was quieter when he asked, as if he didn't want you to hear. 

"If you want to..."

"I really, really want to, mama," as he spoke you withdrew your fingers, hands taking his place to open yourself for him. 

Vigilantly, he watched for signs of discomfort as his index finger replaced yours. Where his finger was thicker than yours, you stretched around him causing a moan to slip from your lips. He pushed further inside than you could reach alone. With his free hand he drizzled more lube where your bodies met, easing the slide in and out. Letting Josh touch you there was dizzying and it was all you could do to remember to breathe.

"So tight and warm, mama," his eyes were transfixed on the delicate seam of your body. Breathing heavily, he shuffled forwards on the seat, intent on not missing anything. Half lidded eyes watched, drunk on the sight before him.

"Tell me about the plug," his request caught you off guard. 

"I got it a few- uhh fuck- a few weeks ago," you sighed out as he pressed the tip of a second finger against you. The new sensation sent a wave of arousal through you, edging you closer to your unexpectedly quick climax. Could you really come just from this?

"Weeks ago? You've been planning this?" he sounded astonished at your brazen actions. 

"For you, Josh," you confirmed, squeezing your eyes closed as you nodded.  

"Hmm.. I've been planning too y'know?.." he pulled away from you and disappeared to retrieve something again. 

You were glad of the pause to steady yourself and still your racing heart. The combination of the new experience and Josh's unwavering attentiveness was beginning to become a little overwhelming. Usually, it was you worshipping at the altar of Josh's body. You were still getting used to such devoted attention. 

Upon his return, he came to stand in front of you, showing you the items in his hands. Hunger in his eyes replaced the serenity that was present just moments ago. He looked like some fallen angel that had finally given in to the temptation of all of the devious sins he had denied his whole existence. In open palms, Josh presented you with a set of baby blue butt plugs of different sizes, each with a sparkling gem at the base.

"Josh..." you gasped in disbelief.  

"I did love the bunny tail mama, but I think these will look even better," he explained, "they're for training, in case you ever wanted to try the real thing."

Your eyes fixed on them, each one slightly bigger than the last. The smallest one was about the same size as the one you had tried earlier. 

"They're so pretty," you said, running your fingers over the velvety silicone. 

"They'll look even prettier if you wear them," Josh added, "Do you wanna try?"

You reached for his face and tugged him in for a fervent kiss. His tongue danced with yours, pulling a rumbling moan from both of you. 

"Is that a yes?" he asked, grinning as he pulled back. 

"Fuck yes," you replied. 

He moved back around to his earlier position, laying the toys on the seat between your knees. Hot palms ran over your thighs once more and then they stilled. 

"Can we try something else first?" Josh asked hesitantly. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you waited for him to continue. He stood, pressing your back to his chest as his mouth found the side of your neck again. While he pressed soft kisses behind your ear, his hand wandered back to where he had started to work you open. Sinful stimulation from his fingers combined with the kisses in your favourite place made it hard to concentrate. He rutted himself against your body, skimming his hardness over your rim. Sharp teeth nipped at your ear lobe and then he spoke.

"I wanna taste you, mama," he whispered in your ear, "Can I? Please?" 

If you had been standing up, your knees would have buckled. Your head fell back towards Josh's shoulder and molten arousal swam in your veins at his words. 

"Yesss," was all you could muster. 

As Josh lowered himself to sit behind you, he grabbed your ass in each hand and you whimpered in anticipation. Just as you were about to beg, his hot tongue licked a circle around your sensitive hole. Flattening his tongue, he lapped a long, slow swipe over you and you whined at the feeling. His thumb skimmed the sensitive skin near your entrance as he hummed in satisfaction while he tasted you. One of his hands left your body. Looking back, you noticed Josh had pulled his hard length from his underwear and was rapidly stroking himself while he tasted you. 

"I've thought about this for so long," he admitted quietly. It was unlike Josh to keep his desires to himself. When he had suggested this new experience, he definitely hadn't let on that he was so tormented by the idea. The confession fueled the fire building in your belly.

He continued to lick and slurp, fiendish, while you writhed bent over the chaise. His pace became frenzied as he buried his face between your cheeks. The taboo of it all turned you on to no end. Coarse facial hair scoured against your skin. The surprising but welcome feeling countered the smooth, slippery slide of Josh’s tongue. Addictive sensations made you push back against him, his hand gripped you harder. You were already so close to the precipice of your release. If you could just get a little more stimulation, you knew you would fall apart.

Impatient, you reached between your legs to rub frantic circles over your clit. Noticing your actions, Josh pulled out every trick in the book to get you closer to your orgasm. His broad palm made sharp contact with your ass causing you to yelp. He moaned against your skin, pleased with the sound he had pulled from you. He did it again, harder this time. As his pointed tongue pressed inside, you reached your peak with a full-throated cry, finally tipping over the edge.  

While your climax wracked your body, Josh retrieved the smallest plug. When the shuddering waves of pleasure ceased, he pressed the tip of the toy slowly inside. The dull ache stoked the embers of your subsiding arousal.  

"Fucking perfect, mama," Josh said as he tapped the jewel where it was fitted snugly against you. He pushed his boxers down just under his ass, enough to free himself fully.

Words left you as Josh stood to position his leaking tip at the entrance to your dripping cunt. He sank his thick length inside with a euphoric moan. Hearing him made your eyes roll. Keeping his thumbs on either side of the plug, he watched as he cock slid deeper inside you. He had waited long enough for his own release. This was no time for sweet love making. No longer trying to ignore his own pleasure, his only thoughts were to fuck and fill. Your nails dug into the leather of the couch as he relentlessly pounded into you. Lewd sounds of skin against skin and a symphony of filthy moans filled the play room. His eyes were transfixed on your stuffed holes and his mouth hung open at the sight. Chasing his release, he grabbed at your hair, pulling you back against him. You gasped and grinned. Your skin prickled and you felt yourself already hurtling towards your second orgasm. 

"Do it, mama. Come on my cock for me," he urged through gritted teeth. 

"Josh, please-" you begged. 

"You want to come with all your slutty holes filled, hm? Is that what my dirty girl wants?"

His other hand came up to push two fingers into your mouth. You took them willingly, giving them the same enthusiastic and sloppy treatment Josh loved when you went down on him. Shamelessly, drool started to run down your chin. Not missing a beat with his punishing pace, he slammed into you while delicious tension built and built in your core.

"One hole just isn't enough for you, is it?" He admonished, growling his words into your ear.

You had no response. Your mind was empty. All you could do was take it while you were pinned between the chaise and his demanding thrusts.

"Greedy girl. Ready to give it all to me. Just had to ask nicely," he rambled, "I'll fill you up whenever you want it, mama. Maybe I'll let you fill me up too."

A guttural sound tumbled from you at the image conjured in your mind by Josh's wicked words. You tightened around him.

"Ohh she liked that. What a filthy fucking bitch you are," he snarled, "I know you're close. I can feel it. Let go."

Completely surrounded and filled by Josh, there was no escape. Your second orgasm hit you like a freight train. White light burst behind your eyelids, while a string of whorish moans escaped from your throat. Josh held you in place while he continued to work you through your powerful climax. He pounded into you until you sagged forward against the couch. Heaving in any oxygen you could, you were exhausted from the exertion of holding yourself up. While you trembled, Josh withdrew with a groan. He quickly worked a tight fist over his throbbing cock, grunting as he sprayed his release over the glittering gem still penetrating your convulsing orifice. As the last drops of his come landed on your skin, he shuddered and panted to himself. 

"Don't move," he instructed, a hand planted firmly on the small of your back.

Returning to his seated position, he ran his fingers around the toy, spreading his come like some obscene finger painting. Enraptured, he tugged gently on the plug. You breathed deeply, trying to relax your body enough to accommodate the stretch. With a slightly firmer hand, Josh pulled the toy from you and discarded it on the seat.

"You're out of this world, mama. Thank you," he said, still coming down from his high. His cock twitched and dripped against his thigh as he rested his forehead on your back. 

You twisted to try and see him. He met you half way. The position wasn't great but you managed to steal a kiss. 

"Tastes sweet," you commented, confused by his sticky, sweet lips. 

"Gotta have something sweet with that cake," he grinned, giving your ass a playful swat. He leaned down and retrieved the bottle of lube, wiggling it in front of your face. There on the bottle, in lilac lettering, were the words 'Birthday Cake' surrounded by rainbow sprinkles. 

"Not exactly a Creme Egg, but close enough," he winked.

"You're so dumb," you laughed at his smug expression, clearly pleased with himself. 

"I'm going to run a bath. Come with me?" he asked. 

With that, you both headed for the master bathroom. Josh ran the hot water, pouring an indulgent amount of bubble bath into the running stream. When the tub was full, you lowered yourself into the inviting warmth and got comfortable between Josh's legs. Both of you sank a little deeper into the soothing water, the tension in your bodies melting away. You leaned back against his chest and he hummed, content.

@fleet-of-fiction @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @katuschka @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness @lvnterninthenight @gretavangroupie @gretavangelica @gretasfallingsky @gvfmarge @highway-tuna @stardustjake @lyndz2names @peaceloveunitygvf @gretavanlace @gvfpal @gold-mines-melting @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @wetkleenex-gvf

#greta van fleet #josh gvf #josh kiszka #greta van smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fic #greta van fleet smut #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #good reads #fic rec

[katuschka]

Poetic (as) fuck.

Close

Jake Kiszka/F Reader

3.4k words

Explicit sexual content 18+

Warnings - amorous cries, sexual content, fluffy smut

Spice rating 🌶️

This is fiction. If you think I've missed a warning or spotted a typo, let me know!

You had read enough cheesy romance novels to know you were pining. It had been 23 days since you'd last seen Jake and today was the day he was finally coming home. When you woke up this morning, anticipation flooded your body leaving you feeling jittery. It was going to be a long 8 hours until he was finally back in your arms. 

Knowing clock watching would only leave you agitated, you threw yourself into doing chores and running errands, starting with cleaning the house from top to bottom. It didn't really need it but you needed to busy yourself. Every surface shined to a mirror finish, every pillow was plumped, blankets perfectly folded and trinkets neatly positioned. Impatient hands busied themselves and quieted your mind. You checked his flight information over and over again just to make sure he wasn't delayed. There was only one place left in the house to clean, that was usually left to Jake. The den was his territory. It was where he kept his instruments and prized possessions. While he'd been away, you'd ventured into the room just to feel surrounded by his presence. Remembering how it felt when he was working away in there made you miss him more than ever before. It was only home when he was there, without him it was just a big empty house. Your loneliness echoed in the empty hallways and cavernous rooms. It was the longest you'd been apart since you first started dating and you hadn't expected it to hit you so hard. You had always thought the heartache poets wrote about was an exaggeration until you found yourself in the den again for the third time in as many days with an ache in your chest that you couldn't deny. 

As you entered the den, you were comforted by the deep, maroon hue of the walls. The scent of tobacco somehow still lingered in the air long after the last smoke had been extinguished. That was months ago when Jake had promised to quit. Hanging on the hook by the door was Jake’s black velvet smoking jacket. He had bought it as a joke but you knew he secretly loved wearing it. Removing it from where it hung, you slipped it on, just wanting to feel close to him. The weight of it comforted you, feeling like it was as close as you could get to a hug from Jake. You ran your fingertips along the back of the battered leather couch. It had tears in the upholstery and well-worn scuff marks on the cushions. In the past, you had tried to convince Jake to buy a new one but, as with all his possessions, he intended to use it until it fell apart. 

On Jake's huge desk you spied his cologne. When he'd purchased the gigantic wooden monstrosity you couldn't hide your giggle when he had excitedly explained it was made out of reclaimed wood from some shipwreck you'd never heard about. It was too big for the space and absolutely impractical but he loved it which meant you did too. You picked up the bottle and turned it over in your hands, noticing Jake's fingerprints still faintly visible on the dark glass. Removing the lid, you inhaled deeply and the familiar notes of Jake filled your senses. Woody, spiced tobacco hit you first followed by a soft sweetness of tonka reminding you of so many mornings wrapped up in each other's warm bodies and nothing else.  You spritzed some onto your neck and wrists, realising just how much comfort the scent of your lover brought you. 

For what felt like the hundredth time today, you checked the time and saw it was still three hours until Jake would be home. In your periphery, you noticed the whiskey that sat untouched in the crystal decanter. You helped yourself to a generous pour, knowing Jake wouldn’t mind, and swigged a mouthful. The flavours danced on your palette and your throat warmed as you savoured the drink. Walking over to his bookshelf, you pried a well worn copy of The Alchemist from in between other battered tomes Jake had collected in airports over the years. 

You lit the candle on the coffee table with Jake’s ‘den zippo’ that he always kept in the room and then got comfy on the leather couch. A blush crept over your cheeks as you cast your mind back to the last time you and Jake had sat on that sofa together. What started out as him showing you something on his guitar that had been frustrating him, ended with you bracing yourself against the back of the couch while he worked out his irritation. He had filled you so deeply and you could almost feel the ghosts of his fingertips as they gripped your waist tightly and tangled in your hair.

The weight of the book in your hands brought you back to the present. You ran gentle fingers over the creases in the cover and examined the well worn spine. Flicking open the book to a random page, you noticed every little dog-eared corner where Jake had paused his reading only to pick it back up another time. You wondered what he was reading on tour this time. A small corner of white paper slipped out from in between the pages. Carefully, not wanting to lose the place it had been put in, you opened the book to see what was hidden inside. At first glance, the faded old receipt seemed like some junk that might have just got wedged between the pages while the book was tossed around in Jake’s backpack. On closer inspection, you recognised the business name printed on the top of the paper as a local restaurant. Checking the date at the bottom, it dawned on you that the receipt was from the first date Jake had taken you on. He had kept it all this time. Your heart swelled with adoration and you clutched the book to your chest. All along, you thought you were the hopeless romantic in the relationship. 

Nestling further into the cushions, you started to read. Outside, the sunlight was beginning to fade. It would be dark before Jake got home. After reading a couple of chapters, you checked the time. Still over two hours to go. Time was moving torturously slow. Sometimes Jake would text when he landed, other times he would surprise you on the doorstep. This time, you would be happy with either as long as it came quickly. You threw back the last of your whiskey and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch around yourself. You took your phone off silent, just in case he called. Picking up the book again, you made yourself comfy and started to read again. The first few drops of rain hit the window panes, increasing in frequency, creating a soothing soundscape to accompany your reading. Relaxing into the cushions, your limbs ached slightly from the vigorous cleaning of the kitchen and bathrooms. Your eyelids felt a little heavy too, you blamed the whiskey…

✦✦✦

“Baby…” Jake’s voice drifted into your mind, barely above a whisper. 

Realising you must have drifted off and been dreaming of your man, you pulled the blanket up around your face and sighed out a deep breath, not yet ready to leave the cosy confines of the sofa. Keeping your eyes closed, you hoped to float straight back into that dream.

“Come on sleepy girl, let’s get you to bed.” This time Jake’s words were accompanied by a soft chuckle. 

In disbelief, you rubbed your tired eyes and looked up at Jake, perched on the edge of the sofa cushion. He was illuminated only by the soft glow of the candle light. How long had you been asleep?

“You’re home,” you said, voice raspy with sleep. 

“I’m home. Missed you,” he said as he gently caressed your cheek. 

“Missed you more,” you replied as you sat upright. 

“Not possible,” he smiled, leaning in for a soft kiss. You met his lips with your own and wrapped your arms around his warm body. After a moment, he pulled back a little and looked into your eyes.

“There’s a thief in this house. She’s been wearing my clothes and I think she’s been stealing my whiskey too,” he teased. 

“Only a sip,” you countered with a lazy smirk. 

“There will have to be reparations…” he raised his eyebrows.

“What did you have in mind?” your thoughts wandered, wondering what filth Jake would come up with this time. 

“Later,” he said as he extended his hand and pulled you to your feet, “For now, let’s just go to bed.”

He was right. You were both too tired. As you stood, you realised how exhausted your body was. The run of restless nights leading up until Jake got home had taken its toll on you. His journey had been one of the longer ones and although he was accustomed to travelling, the journey home always drained him. The last shreds of his energy were used to make sure he boarded the plane on time. 

Wordlessly, he led you to your bedroom, still holding your hand. The warm hue of the bedside lamps lit the room in a soft glow thanks to the timer Jake had set up before he left. You’d told him the house felt dark and empty when he was gone. Small mercies made it more bearable.  

He deposited his backpack on the ottoman at the end of the bed and turned back to face you. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into his warm embrace. You breathed in the scent of him, the smell of his cologne still lingered on his shirt. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and hummed to himself. Pulling back a little, you brushed his hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear so you could gaze into those caramel eyes. He gazed back at you and the corners of his mouth turned up into the sweetest smile. Lifting up onto your toes, you kissed the tip of his nose. He huffed out a small laugh. In return, he pressed his forehead against yours and you both remained still and silent for a few moments. Peaceful and content.

Without saying a word, you slowly peeled his jacket down his arms and tossed it somewhere behind you. He copied you. Next, he lifted the hem of your shirt up and over your head and then he removed his own. You lowered your eyes to his belt buckle and pulled it loose. The leather slithered through his belt loops and dropped to the floor. With nimble fingers, you undid the button on his jeans and left them hanging open. Jake mirrored you and left you to shimmy out of your own jeans as he kicked his off. 

Stood there with you in your underwear, his eyes surveyed your body, as if checking everything was just as he left it. Happy with what he found, he glanced towards the bed and tapped your butt to usher you into the warmth of the waiting bed. You stripped out of your underwear and followed your silent instructions, wanting nothing more than to cuddle up to Jake and fall asleep together. 

“What have you been reading?” you asked quietly as you situated yourself comfortably. The cool sheets felt incredible against your aching body. You flexed your limbs, trying to stretch away the heaviness that had settled in them. 

“Hmm?” he looked at you with pleasant bewilderment on his face. 

“You always buy a book. What did you get this time?” your heavy eyelids were already threatening to pull you under.

“Let me get it,” he said softly as he rummaged around in his backpack. 

With his latest read in hand, he headed to his side of the bed, removed his remaining garments and pulled back the plush duvet. He climbed in next to you and propped himself up slightly with some pillows. 

“C’mere,” he said as he motioned for you to scoot in closer to him. 

“Will you read some to me?” you yawned. 

He nodded and squeezed you closer as he found the folded corner of the page he had been reading just hours before. Being skin to skin with him had you floating in a dreamlike state. Nothing soothed your mind more than being entirely surrounded by Jake. 

With your head on his chest, you listened to the steady beat of his heart. You could hear the rhythmic inhales and exhales of air that filled his lungs as he read aloud to you. His voice was husky with tiredness and his dulcet tones soon had you struggling to keep your eyes open. 

“Don’t fight it,” he cooed as he ran his free hand up and down your spine under the duvet... 

✦✦✦

Golden sunlight filtered through the barely drawn curtains while the grounding weight of Jake’s arm rested on your waist. After sleeping alone for so many nights, the warmth of his body pressed against your back felt like a divine gift from the gods. His quiet, soft snores told you he was still asleep. Trying not to wake him, you turned to face him. Still dozing, he rolled onto his back. You traced a finger down his chest, stopping briefly to admire the freckle you loved so much. His chest rose and fell under your touch. Watching carefully for signs of him stirring, you admired his tranquil expression and the way his long eyelashes kissed the tops of his cheeks. From lazing in the sun between shows, his skin was lovely and golden and the usually dark hair that framed his face had turned a beautiful amber shade. You smiled to yourself as you pictured him on a sun lounger, begrudgingly asking Josh to apply his sunscreen since you weren’t there to help. You ran the tip of your index finger lightly over his full lips causing him to give away his wakefulness as a sleepy smile appeared on his face. Repeating your actions pulled an easy giggle from his chest.

“Tickles,” he murmured. 

“Go back to sleep,” you whispered. 

“Can’t,” he said with a sigh, his eyes still closed. 

“Why not?” you asked. 

“Got something I need to do,” he replied, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Oh yeah? What's that?” you were pretty sure you knew what he was hinting at but pretended to be clueless anyway.

“You,” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hauled you on top of him. You squealed like a schoolgirl as he manoeuvred you to where he wanted you. Your hands came to rest on his stomach. 

“Told you I missed you,” he said as he rolled his hips slightly underneath you. You felt what he meant. 

His warm hands skimmed over every part of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear for you and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, admiring the view. From your shoulders to your hips and thighs, it felt like there wasn’t an inch of skin left without Jake’s caress. His hands came to rest on your hips as he rolled you with him this time. A small gasp escaped from your throat. Beneath you, he was hot and hard but he wasn’t in a hurry. 

Sitting up a little, he pressed a string of light kisses to your sternum. Practised hands travelled slowly from your hips to your breasts. He cradled them in his soft palms, kneading slightly. You watched as he watched his own actions, mesmerised by your body. Letting his lips wander, he ran his hot tongue over each nipple causing you to squirm where you were seated in his lap. He sucked one into his mouth and circled the sensitive skin with firm flicks of his tongue. He moved to the other nipple and repeated his ministrations, adding a scrape of his teeth as he pulled away. A moan tumbled out of you and he hummed in satisfaction. The contrast of his gentle actions and his throbbing length between your thighs was driving you crazy. 

“Patience,” he chastised, a smug grin on his face. 

“Nooo…” you pleaded, “It’s been so long.”

“Just a little longer,” he promised. 

He moved his hands to cup your face and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. As his hands retreated, his touch moved lower and lower until he found the apex of your thighs. Your breath hitched as he slid his fingers between your legs, gathering the wetness he found there and spreading it over your swollen clit. His other hand rested on your thigh as he peered down to watch. You moaned as he circled the bundle of nerves and you felt his cock twitch against your ass. He slid his fingers lower, teasing at your entrance but pulling back at the last second. 

“Jake…” you whined, hoping he would give in if you pouted enough, “Don’t tease.”

“No teasing, huh?” he said, pulling his fingers away from you entirely, repositioning slightly.

“Not fair-” the words were stolen from your tongue as he slid his aching cock into you in one slow thrust. His head lolled back as he lost himself in the sensation of being wrapped up in you entirely. 

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked, trying to steady his breathing, “It’s what I wanted.”

You were about to respond but his hands found your hips again, encouraging you to move with him as he buried himself impossibly further inside you. The stretch of him was delicious. Grinding down against him provided sinful stimulation for you both. Circling your hips, you watched as his eyes fluttered closed and he let out a filthy groan. 

“Too good,” he said through gritted teeth. 

One hand tangled in his hair while the other was placed on his chest, steading yourself as you rode him. You tugged at the roots and Jake sucked in a hiss through his teeth. Even without his cock pulsing inside of you, it was easy to tell he loved it by the way an indulgent smirk grew on his face.

“Baby, that feels incredible. I’m not going to last long,” he whispered his confession. 

“Don’t fight it,” you replied. 

His hands palmed your ass as he grew more desperate for his release. He shifted his position and planted his feet on the bed, bending at the knee to get a better angle to thrust up into your wet core. Starting off slow, he plunged his cock as deep as he could and then withdrew almost completely. He shook his head to himself as he repeated the motion, as if trying to deny how close he was to the edge. He picked up the pace, jolting you forwards slightly every time he buried himself fully, stroking your g-spot. His thumb found your neglected clit, swirling in fast circles, adding to the stimulation and working you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned. 

You could only hum in agreement. 

“Can I-? I can’t- I’m so close-” he panted. You nodded as you watched his brows pinch into a frown. Those deep, pools of caramel stared back at you intensely as he chased the sensations caused by the sweet friction of your dripping cunt.

“Ohmygod-” he gasped as his hips faltered. Both his hands found your waist, his grip was punishing as he drove himself into you over and over. You watched, entranced, as his biceps flexed. The tendons in his arms and hands were prominent and defined like delicate cords of passion and longing as they danced beneath the surface of Jake's bronzed skin.

With an amorous cry, he spilled inside you. You collapsed forward, bracing yourself on the headboard as he rode out his high. After the throes of his orgasm subsided, a hearty chuckle rang through your bedroom while he regained his composure. His face was buried in your neck and even though he was probably becoming overstimulated from still being inside you, you weren’t ready to move yet. You peeled yourself away to sit upright to find the biggest grin on Jake’s face. 

“I haven’t come that quickly since I was a teenager,” he admitted bashfully, his cheeks coloured a beautiful rosy pink. 

Your own arousal was still ever present and your climax had been almost within reach when Jake beat you to it. Noticing you were pouting again, he tipped your chin up to look at him.

“Okay, go get in the shower. Wanna get you cleaned up and then make you all dirty again,” he instructed with a sharp slap to your ass. 

In the shower, he positioned you face first against the cool tile while he dropped to his knees behind you. Without hesitation, he proceeded to lick and suck and eat you out like a man starved until your legs trembled.

After you had both towelled off and put on clean pyjamas, Jake made you coffee and french toast for breakfast. As soon as your empty coffee cup hit the dining table, he dragged you straight back into bed to claim those reparations for stealing his cologne. 

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