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nevernonline · 3 months

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✧.* twenty-seven?; ksy

synopsis: you always wanted to be considered a ‘serious’ journalist, but to get the chance at moving up the ranks and getting to produce your own stories, you’re get an idea to do one final story and impress your boss, that’s where inspiration strikes with the one and only soonyoung.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring: hoshi x fem! reader.

genre: strangers2lvrs

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol, weed, cig, vape etc.) swearing, very bad jokes!, just fluffy and nice no seggsy time

word count: 8.4k

content: . non-idol idolings, some other svt members. hoshi is down bad fast xo.

note: my next little inspired movie writing is the icon that is 27 dresses. except instead of our female lead being the one in the wedding its my fav tiger (hamster) soony. I just love sappy cutie soonyoung so I apologize in advance. also unedited bc im a loser srry. it shouldn't be tew bad bc I tried to take my time lol. ily.

Finding a cozy spot at a table to the left of the bride and groom, you flipped open your notebook and started jotting down pin points on the decor, the flowers, the bride's beautiful flowing silk gown, and the way the groom looked at her with stars in his eyes.

The first dance song rang around the room gathering all the adorned looks of friends and family watching as another couple took the leap on spending the rest of their lives together.

A rocks glass was placed in front of your pen and paper as the chair next to her was suddenly filled with the stranger who put it there.

“Taking notes for your own wedding?”

“Oh. No, I'm doing a piece for the Daily on their wedding.”

“Are you y/n l/n by any chance?”

“I am. You’re familiar with me?”

“Yeah, just through the bride. She’s my sister. She talks about you nonstop. I’m Soonyoung, I was the one who contacted you.”

“I see. Nice to meet you. What’s the drink for?”

“Working hard, I figured you should at least enjoy yourself a little bit.”

“That’s nice. Thank you.”

Soonyoung stared at the girl across from him, trying to catch a peak at her notes seeing if she was painting this night in a perfect light.

You caught on and shut the book quietly, giving him a small wink as a shout it would be everything his sister wanted.

“What’s the drink?”

“A vodka soda, lemon.”

“So, you know my drink order? Thought you said you didn’t know who I was?”

“I saw you at a wedding a few weeks ago, my friend Seungkwan. I noticed your drink, that's all. That’s how I got your contact actually.”

“Lying on the first meet, a great sign. No wonder you look so familiar to me. You were the best man right? But blonde at the time?”

“My sister would’ve killed me if I was blonde at her wedding and sorry not lying just felt creepy admitting it.

“I liked it.”

Soonyoung laughed remembering the conversation he had with his sister about his hair.

“So what’s it like being in two weddings in one month, Soonyoung?”

“Actually I’m going to be in three. Next week my coworker is getting married. Which would make my wedding count twenty-six.”

“You’ve been to twenty-six weddings?”

“Yep. After next week anyway. What’s your wedding count?”

“Ones I’ve covered? Too many to count. Ones I’ve been in? Two I think. Both of my brothers are married. That’s about it.”

“So you cover weddings but aren’t married?”

Rolling your eyes at his unfiltered nature, you couldn’t help but feel like his question was out of curiosity and not judgment. The way his eyes searched hers for answers was genuinely adorable.

“Almost at one point, but he cheated on me and is marrying her now. I didn’t actually become a journalist to cover weddings anyway, it sort of just happened.”

“I see.”

“What about you? Being at all those weddings and never getting married?”

“No. Not even close, I was in love with the same girl for a long time, but she didn’t feel the same way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

After spending the rest of your night enjoying Soonyoungs company, you bid goodbye to the bride and groom and headed back to your home to get down to working on the article.

Digging through your black leather tote you realize you forgot to take your journal home with you, leaving it on the white table cloth being distracted by a new friend.

Realizing you don’t have his number you took it upon yourself to stalk his social media profiles in hope you could find a way to get in contact with him, maybe he was your saving grace in taking your book for safekeeping until he could give it back to you.

Saying fuck it for now you just began typing away about your night, thanking god or whomever that you backed up your calendar digitally when you get a clever idea to write an article still about weddings, but about the person you met who had been a groomsmen all those times. Searching for any kind of photos and videos of his past times supporting nuptials.

All you came up with was a couple cheesing photos of him posing in his suits of many colors and types when you get the idea to go back into your own rolodex of photos and writings from weddings you’ve done in the past, noticing him standing near the bride and groom in just a few it was now safe to say he has piqued your interest even more than before.

You decided to draft an email to your boss begging for the chance to write her an article about the types of bridesmaids and groomsmen who’ve been involved in many years of weddings as a support, if you found one person who had done so many in a short time it wouldn’t be hard to find more right?

Before getting ready for bed you sat refreshing your email waiting for the go-ahead to investigate Soonyoung further with the excuse that it was simply just for work, it took multiple scrolls to the point where your thumb was starting to hurt from running it over the screen until she replied.

‘Y/n, feel free to start drafting up the story. If I like it I’ll let you have more creative articles in the future. Please have it on my desk in two weeks.’

When the morning finally arrived, you had to make the rough decision to get out of bed and head to grab a coffee from the shop in your apartment lobby. Normally you’d be cuddled on your couch with your cat, spending your Saturday morning reading and watching reruns of your favorite reality shows, but much to your surprise the coffee stash you usually have stocked has dried up.

Exiting the silver doors of the elevator a call came from the front desk attendant and you were met by a brown paper bag tied with a bow, the outside scribbled on with some crayons of silly faces and drawings of cartoon tigers, stickers of hello kitty, and a pink note taped to the handle.

“Miss. Y/l/n! Some boy dropped this for you last night.”

“Oh? Thank you, Max.”

Ripping open the small note in line for your morning brew, it instantly puts a smile on your face.

‘Hi, I noticed you left this on the table. Hope it’s not weird. I dropped it off for you. Your address was inside. At least I can stalk you now. - Soonyoung (wedding guy lol)”

Inside the bag was your planner and a few random pieces of candy thrown around. A small bookmark was placed on a page and written underneath was a date for next Thursday and the number of your new favorite subject marked ‘single seeking wedding date.’

After grabbing the paper cup from the barista behind the counter you whip your phone out and dial the number written inside your prized possession.

“Hello, is this the single seeking a date?”

“Hey, it is. Is this the cute girl who’s planner I found?”

“I think so? I don’t know any other cute girls who like going to weddings.”

“Are you available for drinks and a little pre-wedding party?”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? Wow. Eager to see me again I see.”

“I am. And I’m being bold right now which is new for me, so please don’t make me cry.”

“Aw. But I’m sure you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“I’m always pretty, y/n. So?”

“Sure. Why not?”

You heard Soonyoung gasp over the phone and drop something loud.

“Really?”

“Want me to take it back?”

“No. Cool. I will.. pick you up at 6:30? We can get some drinks before and then it’s just like a casual party, but my friends are kind of fancy so maybe like nice cocktail attire. I’m sure you know.”

“Okay. I’m sure you remember where to find me? After all, you did confess to being a stalker.”

“Oh my god. I was kidding, don’t take me seriously. I’ll see you then.”

“See you, Soony. Ok now I’m corny. That wasn’t meant to be a pun. Bye.”

Hearing the boy's laughter over the phone almost gave you butterflies.

“You’re funny. Bye.”

Spending the rest of your normally relaxing afternoon getting ready to slyly interrogate your new friend, you decided to not go out of your way to look overly special after all you weren’t even sure this quote on quote date was anything romantic or just a way of initiating a friendship.

Just before you leave your front door you sat to think if it was appropriate to bring along the same journal that was delivered to you the same morning, but made the conscious decision to leave it behind and not make this first night getting to know each other about you digging into his life for your own gain.

The ride down the elevator had you inspecting yourself in its small safety mirror, fixing the very last strand of hair that felt out of place on your head, not paying any attention to the people jumping off and on from their various floors.

When you finally stepped out into the marble covered lobby, you immediately spotted Soonyoung draped over the side of the couch holding his legs close, almost like a nervous child looking around the room and pouting because he can’t find his toy.

When he finally locked eyes with you his childlike demeanor changed immediately into a spunky puppy, jumping up from his seat and dusting off crumbs on his pants that weren’t even there in the first place, maybe to wipe his hands from their small sweat they were undergoing.

“Hi, y/n. You look very nice”

“Really? So do you. Where are we headed?”

“There’s a cool poet themed bar just like two blocks from here, I thought you’d enjoy it since you’re a writer and everything.”

You looked at Soonyoung with wide eyes, it was a sign of how considerate he was yet again, just like the thought he put into bringing you, your planner and decorating the bag.

His sharp brown eyes sparkled under the street lights, almost like they were reflecting stars, his baggy khaki pants with matching jacket slung perfectly over his frame, he was cute. You could admit it to yourself that something about him was magnetic and you already wanted more.

“Y/n? Is that not your thing? I’m sorry we can do something else, I shouldn’t of assumed all writers like poetr-“

“Oh I’m sorry, I was distracted. Has anyone told you that you have insanely cute eyes? But yes, poetry’s cool. I’m more of a classic novel girl, but it sounds fun. Stop second guessing yourself. You’re good.”

Your hand moved faster than your brain as you brought it up to pat him gently on his shoulder, a confirmation that you were having a good time and trying to ease his awkwardness.

“Yeah, people have once or twice.”

“Good. They really are cute.”

The pink of Soonyoung’s cheeks grew into a deep red as he led you into the bar. The walls were covered in decaying pieces of paper written with words people had to get out for comfort. The smell was like the oldest library on earth, with a tinge of vanilla and vodka ringing through.

Your brain took a moment to be present and remember all of the bad dates of your past. Maybe this wasn’t a date of your future, but if it was, he had already exceeded your expectations.

As the waitress took your order, one Body Electric for your new friend a legit inspiration from Walt

Whitman to your choice which was a play on a Sylvia Plath poem.

“Are you a lightweight?”

You looked at Soonyojng not even halfway through his drink, feeling the ease and warmth of his body next

to you.

“How can you tell?”

“You relaxed for the first time tonight.”

“I was nervous to hangout with you. I’m sorry. You’re just cool and pretty and I don’t know I feel like you’re way smarter than me and I’m intimidated by that sober”

“I’m sure that’s not true. But if it’s any help I was nervous too.”

“Really? So I have game?”

“No. But you’re so cute I’d die if I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’re a lightweight too?”

“What? No way. Just honest to a fault.”

Soonyoung smiled into the rim of his glass before taking his final sip and prompting you to finish your drink quickly, which you happily obliged.

“Okay, on the way there.. I have to admit something. The party we’re going to is for the girl I liked before she got with this guy… it’s like unrequited love in a way.”

“The girl you said you don’t love anymore?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I just wanted to see you again so I thought it was a good idea.”

“I’m down. I’m not sure what, but I’m down.”

“Cool.”

“Want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Or? I feel like it would be weird to say we were on a first date.”

“Is this a date?”

“Is it not?”

“It was meant to be and it definitely is now.”

“So pretend girlfriend, Soony?”

“Maybe not an official girlfriend, how about… fourth date?”

“Okay, have we had sex?”

Soonyoung choked on his own spit which caused the two of you to end up in a fit of laughter on the street as you reached your next destination.

“Obviously.”

“That’s fair. I’ll tell everyone you were good.”

“I think I love you.”

“Shut up.”

After spending the night waltzing around and parading your further long relationship with your fake new boyfriend to his friends in hopes to prove his fondness for his newest engaged friend has gone away even slightly.

While maybe you were pretending to be on a date with Soonyoung, your head was spinning. If this was a fake date it was better than any date you had previously. Stepping outside to take a break from the party inside you pulled out your phone, jotting down notes and small nuggets of information you learned about Soonyoung’s past wedding experiences.

“Taking notes on me? What are you a PI?”

Behind you, you hadn’t realized the door you snuck out of opened and the boy had followed behind, curious if you were okay.

“Yeah, you’re under investigation for being overly nice. Sorry.”

“What do they say? I didn’t read them, just saw my name.”

“Just some antidotes I want to remember. Nothing crazy.”

“Do you want to leave? I’m starting to reach my alcohol limit and I would rather die than have you see my drunk alter ego the first time we hung out.”

“Yeah, come on, let's go.”

Going back through the back exit, you tripped behind Soonyoung’s tall frame grabbing onto his shoulder and giggling before he stood in the way of you hitting the ground.

His lips were curled into a goofy smile.

“I swear to god if you say something about me falling for you, you will get punched.”

“How did you know?”

“That fucking goofy smile you have on your face right now, I could just see it brewing in that head of yours.”

“Okay, I don’t like that you’ve already figured me out. Let’s go, klutz.”

Before you and Soonyoung could exit back into the fresh air, a familiar face appeared in front of you. Your ex boyfriend. Something about this night clicked for you, it was his party, there were so many people around and the only person from the wedding party you met was the bride. But taking a breath in and looking around the room, you realized how stupid you were to not see all the signs that this party was for him.

“Y/n? Hoshi? Hey, how have you guys been?”

Soonyoung still holding his arm around your shoulder gave a small back and fourth look between you and the tall boy who knew your name.

“You guys know each other?”

“Yep. Hi, Jihoon.”

“I didn’t know you knew Hoshi either?”

“Oh well we just started dating, he invited me to come hangout.”

“Dating? Wow. I didn’t know you had time for people outside of work anymore.”

“Jihoon, if you don’t mind we have to go now. Thank you for the open bar and this amazing time chatting, congratulations on marrying your hookup. Goodnight.”

The start of your walk with Soonyoung was pure silence, there was an obvious elephant in the room and you could tell he was just itching to talk about it, so you decided to prompt him.

“You’re curious aren’t you.”

“Yes. But I don’t want to ask you to talk about it because we’re having fun. So I figured I’d try to ignore it.”

“It’s fine. I’m curious too actually, it’s kind of funny that the girl you liked was hooking up with my boyfriend and now they’re married. And by funny I mean actually funny and we just spent the whole night not knowing that.”

“I didn’t even know that Jihoon had a girlfriend when they first met, he never said anything about it.”

“I don’t blame him actually, I do work way too much. I just wished he’d broken up with me instead of cheating on me for a month.”

“When did you guys break up?”

“Last December.”

“Oh.”

“It was more than a month wasn’t it?”

“I think so.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

“That’s fucked up y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay, we weren’t supposed to be together and his new girlfriend or future wife whatever seems like she’s really nice.”

“She is, but she’s too nice. She does everything he wants, maybe he couldn’t handle your independence.”

“Soony. You caught on that I’m a bad bitch?”

“Have you met yourself?”

“No. But, if I did I’d be obsessed with her and hate her at the same time.”

“That’s exactly how I feel.”

You punched his side, before stopping and realizing you had come up to your front door. Not even worried about the way your feet were aching to get out of your heeled shoes.

“This is me.”

“I know. I’ve been here like three times now in less than twenty-four hours. I’m starting to believe you actually think I’m stupid.”

“Not stupid. Just silly. I’ll see you again right?”

“I mean I did put days on your calendar to schedule out time for me.”

“You littl-“

Suddenly you were cut off by Soonyoung’s hand covering your mouth to put a stop to you cursing him out.

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

Sinking your teeth into his hand he retreated from his momentary confidence quickly, looking at the proud smile you were sporting, pointing your well manicured finger in his face.

“Don’t tell women to shut up, Soony.”

“I never said shut up, you were going to call me a mean name and I’m sensitive. Go back to calling me cute.”

“Maybe. Next time.”

You went in for a one armed hug when all of the sudden Soonyoung came in with both arms, clinking your heads together.

“Very smooth.”

He liked the fact that you constantly teased him while making light of situations, regaining his confidence he pulled you into his embrace enveloping both arms around your shoulders, placing a small kiss on the part of your forehead that crashed into his.

“I’ll see you next week.”

“What’s next week?”

“The wedding, check your planner. Well actually I’ll see you in two nights because we have to shop or go through your closet so we can match! Bye, y/nie.”

Caught off guard by the kiss on your head and watching him hail a cab like it was nothing, you couldn’t help but smile on your way into your building, met by Max at the front desk beaming as wide as you and giving you a wink. Knowing that he saw the cute and awkward interaction you shared with the hyper hamster outside.

The two days in between you and Soonyoung’s first official interaction, you felt yourself looking forward to seeing him again and being in his presence like your own personal serotonin boost.

The insane fact that your ex was marrying the girl he cheated on was enough, but the girl being Soonyoung’s painful crush? Especially when you felt he was becoming yours was beyond insane.

You made up separate drafts of your article about the people who make weddings shine, from the families, the bridal parties. the insane bachelor and bachelorette nights, and mainly Soonyoung’s love for love.

The two works of nonfiction were from different perspectives, one being your head and one being your heart. You couldn’t decide if it was appropriate to present a piece basically claiming how amazing you found Soonyoung for the whole world to see when you’re not even sure if he’d ever consider you to be more than a silly writer girl y/n, his friend or fake girlfriend. Your other was from the space of practicality, a genuine love letter to your career and the person who inspired this story, but also digging deep into the ideals of how frantic and selfish the wedding industry can be and what it means for an unmarried friend to take in burdens constantly for their loved ones when it takes a toll on their own heart.

The biggest debate in your body was the fact the real article, the one you wanted to write, was at the fault of someone who had only in the short space of two days made you feel again, but it was honest and genuine.

You knew Soonyoung had to have some pain working and being a part of a wedding for the girl he saw himself marrying.

Luckily you have another few days to decide which way it’ll go.

Sitting on the thought of what one you should put out, you were awoken out of your thought bubble to a string of buzzes from your cell phone sitting face down on your desk.

None other than the boy that had been living in your head for the past 48 hours.

Soonyoung’s texts were multiple lines of photos and silly messages asking you which outfit he should wear that could match any of the dresses you had hanging in your closet for the wedding.

One of the options was a beige suit, simple in theory but something about the way he styled it with a funky sage green t-shirt and matching sneakers made you smile. Even if you didn’t have anything to match this outfit you would make an effort to go out and spruce up your wardrobe to be on his level.

After quickly responding that it was your choice, he retorted back in his true fashion you’d have to send him your options too or he’d come over to help you.

In a desperate subconscious way you agreed to his antics.

Now nearly an hour later a call came from the front desk that a visitor had arrived asking for consent he could come upstairs which you happily agreed assuming it was none other than Soonyoung himself. The person on the opposite side of the door was not the sharp eyed boy you’d expected, but Jihoon.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you after the other night, I just wanted to say hey.”

“Okay? Then text me. Don’t come over unannounced, I have a friend I’m expecting.”

“You wouldn’t have responded.”

“That’s true.”

Standing with your arms crossed in your doorway not letting Jihoon into the now redecorated apartment you once had let him live in, you weren’t budging on your gut feeling to let him in and talk.

“Can I come in?”

“Like I said. I’m expecting a friend. So.. no.”

“Who? Hoshi? You guys aren’t seriously together? He’s not your type, too goofy.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“He’s Nana’s friend, but he’s okay. I’m just saying it's not your style.”

Nana? A stupid nickname for his fiance who’s name was simply Anna. So as you rolled your eyes and shut your apartment door behind you as you stepped into the hallway as a clear defining factor he was not welcome you stood far apart from him as a line in the sand.

“He’s not goofy. He’s sweet and yes he’s on his way so maybe you should leave before saying anything else so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

Jihoon wavered a bit, looking towards the elevator door at the end of the hall as if like a movie Soonyoung would walk out of the elevator at the mention he was on his way over.

“Maybe take the stairs. I’ll see you at your wedding with my date.”

Rushing in and slamming the door in his face, you sink to the floor in a moment of pure exhaustion over interacting with someone like your ex.

Why wasn’t Soonyoung right for you? Why did you not want that to be true? And why were you so dead set on proving him absolutely wrong?

In your rush of emotions another knock came to your door. Without looking through the peephole you swung it open rapidly.

“Look I told you to g- oh, Soonyoung! Thank god.”

Your body made a move before your head could even catch up as you ended up hugging him tightly, rushing him inside as if Jihoon didn’t get the message and was watching in from a hidden spot in the corridor.

“Y/N are you okay?”

“Yes. Sorry, someone just came over that I did not want to see. Welcome.”

You watched as his eyes took in the view of your pink and green splattered apartment, things like funky vases full of wildflowers, plant tendrils floating down from shelves tucked between books of various sizes and ages, a small nook with sleeping white and black cat hid inside snuggling into his stuffed toy.

“I love it here.”

“Really? I redecorated recently, it was cold before. I love it now.”

“Also it smells amazing, do you bake? It smells like cookies and coffee. Wow.”

“I do not bake, but I do have candles that give the illusion. What’s in the bag?”

Soonyoung set a small black duffle bag down on the counter and began pulling the contents out one by one, showing them off like a beauty guru.

Wine, five small bags of potato chips, beer Incase you didn’t like wine and he was unsure, a slice of delicious looking chocolate cake, and a container marked with your name of his moms homemade soup.

“Why did you do this?”

“I thought we would have fun while picking out matching outfits. Will you let me see your closet? Please, please, please. I’m so curious.”

“It’s not that impressive at all.”

“If your apartment looks like this then I have only the highest expectations for you.”

Smiling, you jokingly made a come on motion with your fingers and led him into your spare bedroom that now existed as a half home office and half closet.

His eyes took in even more of your fun design work, the racks of records, pictures of you and your friends, and one of the things that made him feel like he could fall in love with you, your rack full of limited edition shoes and bags.

“Not impressive? You have some of the coolest shit I’ve ever seen in here?”

“I’m just a girl with a cat and a lot of time on my hands. Since being single I’ve just spent it on shopping and ordering take out.”

“If you don’t mind me asking what were you and Jihoon like together? You guys seem really opposite to me.”

There it was again, someone not right for you. Was it just in your head that you think maybe you’re the problem of why this comment is being made?

“Uh, we were okay at first. We met in college about three weeks before graduation and spent so much time together. But if I think about it, we just hung out in his dorm where I watched him play video games and watch anime even though I was not interested. I kind of wish I was more outspoken about it. I missed a bunch of things my friends had done wasting away on his futon drinking shitty cheap alcohol and waiting on him hand and foot and whatever else.”

“Really? So you guys dated for a long time I guess. Did it change a lot once you got out?”

“Not really. A lot of people knew we were ‘dating’ but in the time that we did, we probably went on one or two actual dates.”

“That makes me sad actually.”

“Why? I made the choice to do all those things. At least I don’t have an ugly poster of John Lennon on my wall just to show I loved him.”

Soonyoung was set off by that, laughing and imagining you having a photo of a musician on your wall to impress your boyfriend.

“What’s so funny? Haven’t you done anything embarrassing to impress a girl?”

“Definitely. Too many to choose from actually.”

“At least you're charming, I came off as obsessive and stupidly in love. Not a good look for me.”

“Caring too much is never a bad thing when you think you’re in love and you’re charming too.”

“Why thank you good sir.”

“And you’re weird. Which personally is a green flag for me. I didn’t expect that from you actually.”

“Is that a compliment though, really?”

“For me? Yes. I don’t like normal people well, not normal people I guess, just people who have no personality or something I can learn from. I want someone as a friend or whatever else to challenge me a little, it’s healthy.”

“I think that’s really cool of you, I agree. I like people that are willing to try new stuff or get me out of my comfort zone.”

“Was showing me your office a way of me getting you out of your comfort zone?”

“Sort of. This is kind of like my safe haven.”

Soonyoung just gave you a wide toothed smile, beaming from ear to eat that you admitted he was even just slightly somewhat of your type.

As the night went on and on the boy that has now broken down a couple of your walls, not quickly but brick by brick was sitting comfortably next to your cat curled up in the same manor helping you pick out something that would go with his two outfits, one for the wedding itself and one for the rehearsal dinner which he promised you that you’d only eat and leave to have more fun just out of respect for the couple and his friend Anna.

Now each of you taking the bottle of wine he brought slowly, sitting on your floor surrounded by shoes and loose pairs of pants, giggling over nothing he stared in your eyes almost like you could read that he had another interrogating question.

“Was Jihoon the one at the door before?”

“How did you kno–”

“I can’t remember you mentioning anybody that would come over unannounced and make you look as upset as you did.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know why he was here?”

“He just gave me some stupid antidote that he wanted to see me after the other day, I didn’t ask further. When I told him I had a friend coming over he just knew it was you for some reason and then told me we couldn’t be dating seriously because you’re not my type? As if he’d know? It was weird all around.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No. I realized once we broke up and now after knowing he was cheating on me more than a few nights that it was an amazing decision. When we first ended it I just kicked him out and ghosted all his texts, he used to update me on his life every now and again, the last time we talked for real, before today he called me crying that his Grandmother was sick, so we just had a brief talk and it ended for real there. I genuinely never thought I’d see him again.”

“Also, am I your type?”

Ss wine dribbled down your chin you were once again surprised by Soonyoung’s random fit of confidence.

“Yeah. You’re nice and I love how annoying you are. I think you get under my skin in the best way.”

“Wow. I’m surprised you admitted it.”

“What can I say, wine drunk y/n is honest.”

“And what about my physical type? Sexy, cool, handsome, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen?”

Taking a note from his book you swung your closest arm to him, you clipped your fingers over his mouth and shut him up.

Much to your surprise he took a note from your book and instead of biting your hand he stuck his tongue through his lips and licked your fingers which caused you to lunge towards him further, jokingly pissed he did just so.

As you were fighting for comedic relief you sat suddenly face to face with him holding onto your wrists to resist more thrash fighting.

The two of you stared at each other filling the room with intense tension of your lips being so close once again.

“If I knew you wouldn’t be mad at me I’d kiss you right now.”

“Soonyoung, you’re so stupid. Why would I be mad at you?”

“So I can kiss you?”

“Nope.”

Soonyoung pushed his bottom lip out from his top, replacing his cute puppy face with a pouty one.

You decided to quickly dive in and pace a peck on his protruding bottom lip.

He immediately let you go and erupted into a fit of giggles like a little kid, as you tried to sneak away quickly he grabbed onto the arm of your sweatshirt which you quickly unzipped and slipped out of, running through the door of your office and into the rest of the house as he chased behind.

“You have to know I’m going to catch you for that, that was so mean y/n.”

As you were winning the fight, getting away from the boy chasing you around, you suddenly tripped up and felt his hand grasp your shoulder, turning you around with secret strength.

Standing face to face with him now, your stubbed toe throbbing through your fuzzy socks, you both were holding in a whole lot of laughter.

Soonyoung’s hand slipped behind your head and pulled you in for a much more romantic type of kiss than you gave him before. The two of you touched lips softly, as your smiles were still prominent on your faces.

Before anything could escalate further your phone began to ring again and your boss's name was plastered over the front, which you answered with panting breaths still in a haze from kissing the boy you made you feel young again.

“y/n? Hi, would you be able to send over a draft of your article you begged me for? We were looking for something to print for tomorrow if you’re interested? I’ll have someone expedite the editing process tonight.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah of course, I’ll rush and email it to you now.”

“Thank you, congratulations y/n.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

Oh my god, Soony, stay here. I have to email my boss quickly about my article, she wants to print it for tomorrow's paper. I’ll be right back.”

“What? Congratulations. But don't worry, I’m not leaving.”

“Good, sorry, be right back.”

Rushing back into your office you flipped open your computer and sent your final article draft, choosing the one that your gut felt would be better for your personal life at the moment, especially after the kiss you just shared with the boy it was about.

Typing a quick message along with your attachment you just said a big thank you and clicked send before grabbing the half drank bottle off the floor and ran back to Soonyoung munching on a bag of chips waiting for you.

“Shall we celebrate?”

“What are we celebrating?”

“Me, idiot. I’ve been trying to get a real article published ever since I got the job doing weddings. I love weddings, but always being so happy and cheerful and not getting a chance to stretch my creative juices is frustrating.”

“Can we also celebrate kissing? That seems more fun.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

Taking a swig from the bottle, you passed it over to your male counterpart and watching him take an equally large drink matching your energy.

You and Soonyoung spent the rest of the night talking about how tomorrow will go, where will you and he be sitting, will Jihoon be giving you side eyes or talking shit with some of the other guests. How nice of a chance it’ll be to experience a wedding simply just enjoying with someone on your side and not for work.

After sitting in bed and still thinking about your kiss with Soonyoung many hours later, you saw a text from your boss letting you know she loved the article and to watch out for it in the morning.

When that finally rolled around, you woke up to a lot of messages congratulating you and your new found success, many people from college, your parents, but the one person you were looking for was nowhere to be found in those texts.

Putting the praise aside for a moment, you slipped back out of your bed to jump into the shower and start getting ready for your dinner celebrating the devil that was your ex.

When you stepped out and went to grab onto your device once again you saw a text from the one person you were most excited to read, but it was less than exciting. Soonyoung expressed how upset the article made him and accused you of using him to further your career, something Jihoon supposedly warned him of the night of his pre-wedding party and he chose to ignore.

Confused why he would be so upset about your praise for him, you ran to your front door and ripped open the pages of the paper only to find the article that you sent was a mistake, it was the one shitting on weddings, basically claiming Soonyoung himself was an unmarried loser, not in those words but you could see why it came across that way. Some of the simple moments of praise for his hard work were cut out in the editing room, only leaving the small bits of gossip and harsh criticisms sprinkled in between.

Rushing back inside as your stomach sank to the floor you tried his number three times before getting no answer. Which made you frantically dial your boss’s number and interrogate her on why parts of your article were cut out, she simply answered that fluff doesn’t sell and she was proud of you.

Soonyoung not responding had let you in on the fact that he wasn’t going to be seeing you today or maybe even seeing anybody for that matter, he was embarrassed and rightfully so.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Continuing your quest on trying to reach him, you decided to still get ready for your night out, maybe not in the intense matching outfit way you wanted to last night, but just something where you could sneak into Jihoon’s wedding party and slide Soonyoung the real article you wanted him to read.

Running down the street to the venue with no accurate directions in sight, you saw your ex standing on a corner, smoking a brown wrapped joint in his suit.

“Jihoon. Jihoon.”

“What? Back to grovel for a favor?”

“Yes, please, just give this to Soonyoung for me. Please, I’ve never asked you for a favor like this, just once do something for me.”

“You’re really serious about him?”

“I am.”

“So you didn’t mean to slam him in the article like you did?”

“No. My boss cut out the good parts of the article, this was the one I meant to send. Just for me. I want you to be happy, Jihoon, I do. I want it for myself too, just please give it to him. Make sure he reads it.”

“Okay.”

“I know we haven’t had the best past and I know I'm coming here askin- Wait? Okay? Really?”

“Yeah. I can tell this means a lot to you and the reason I came over today was just to formally invite you to the wedding. You’re a big part of my life and now Soonyoung’s, well maybe, besides the point. My fiance is one of his best friends, she liked you too, that was the only reason.”

“Oh. Well I don’t think I’ll make it.”

“How about you come on official business and give this to him yourself?”

“No. I couldn’t do that. It’s your day not mine.”

“We both deserve a big love, y/n.”

Taking back your enveloped letter, you couldn’t help but be impressed by how mature Anna had made Jihoon become and you knew he was right. Sometimes love just falls in your lap and you can’t do anything about it.

Ashing out his joint, he handed you the other half as an olive branch to celebrate old times and bid you goodbye until tomorrow.

Before going back inside, he turned to you with one final wish.

“You better look damn good tomorrow too, no suits. Wear something nice to confess your feelings, otherwise you’ll look like a dumbass.”

“Got it.”

Catching your breath and shoving the letter and paraphernalia back into your purse, you decided to take Jihoon’s advice. To look amazing, you stumbled upon a shop called ‘All's Well that Ends Well.’ situation just a block down from the poetry inspired bar Soonyoung took you to just a few days before.

Stepping inside the store, the first thing you saw was a navy blue dress, the halter neckline and the silk straight flowing down to the floor, you knew it was meant for you. Especially because it would match the light pink suit Soonyoung was meant to be sporting with you by his side. The easiest shopping experience of your life.

As the sales associate packed your order up and sealed it with a light pink bow, you knew it was a sign or something of the sort.

With less than twenty-four hours of doing the most insane thing of your life, confessing to a man who essentially hated you after you had been kissing just hours before, you stayed up all night, using the weed that Jihoon gave you to stay focused on the task at hand, you almost considered cutting of your hair to enter a new era of your life, but only girls who were going through something would consider that and you attempted to tell yourself you were calm.

When the morning sun rang around you finished writing a letter to match the one already placed in the envelope to accompany your sorry. You even decorated the outside with stickers of tigers and spongebob characters just to make Soonyoung smile.

Sliding into your navy blue dress and silver heels, your hair was down and curled into perfect waves. You kissed your cat on the head and made your way over to the venue by foot, just to give yourself a little fresh air and piece of mind, hoping to slip in early enough so that you’d be seated before he even knew you came.

Slipping into a space near the back of the room on Jihoon’s side, you opened your phone to an encouraging text from him telling you that you’ve got this and he’s excited to hear more about it later, plus reminding you to have fun and enjoy yourself.

As the progression started you watched along with the other wedding goers, catching glimpses of Jihoon’s smiling family, which made your heart feel warm.

As the wedding part waltz down the aisle in their pastel pink suits and rosy toned dresses, you saw a now blonde again head appear on the arm of a girl who looked a lot like Anna, so it was fair to assume it was her sister.

Soonyoung didn’t glance your way, but something about the change in his demeanor made you aware he knew you had come.

“Everyone please rise for the bride.”

Anna walked out with her father on her arm, floating across the room like an angel in white. Her dress was adorned with small beaded flowers from the tips of her fingers down to the vail over her blonde hair.

She was truly beautiful, you couldn’t help but feel like a peasant in the room with this woman who both of the men you had either once had feelings for or now did once loved.

The whole ceremony was beautiful, but you missed a lot of it as you stared Soonyoung’s way trying to catch his eyes, but he never met yours. He was too busy enjoying the fact that his friends were getting married and the fact you had upset him.

When the ceremony ended you followed the other guests to the front of the church, holding your envelope in your hand and greeting the bride and groom, Anna and Jihoon beamed at you before she pointed her finger to a room off the side of the front door, some sort of administration office where Soonyoung would be waiting for you. Which also told you Jihoon had filled her in on your little plan.

You cracked open the old wooden door, trying to be subtle but the rotting wood creaked under the old floor boards making your entrance more known than you would’ve liked.

Soonyoung was seated in a red leather chair to the side of the desk, his now blonde hair meeting your eyes before his face. Not giving in to turn around and look at you.

“Soonyoung? I know you probably don’t want to speak to me. But, this was the real article. It was never meant to be that way. I’m sorry.”

You placed the letter in front of him on the desk and moved to turn back to the door before you heard his voice.

“So you didn’t mean all those mean things you wrote about me? That I was a desperate groomsman waiting for his shot to have a day for himself?”

“No.”

“You didn’t mean to say that my ostentatious nature was cringe worthy?”

“Not in that way no, my boss cut out all the good things I said about you. She put it in her own words for dramatic effect. I quit this morning.”

“You quit? Why?”

“I wanted to try to make this right in the best way I could, she wouldn’t reprint the article how I wrote it and told me that if I didn’t like her style I should get a job somewhere else. So I quit.”

Soonyoung just nodded, he couldn’t imagine why you would give up a golden opportunity just to prove your boss wrong or right for that matter all because of him. The only way he could make sense of what you were saying is that you were truly sorry and you cared about him.

He made a bold move and threw the letter in the trash can to the side of the old oak desk and got out of his chair to hug you.

“You’re not going to read it.”

Speaking into his shoulder, you got a calming exhale of his cologne.

“I don’t need to. I know you're telling me the truth, you said it yourself you don’t lie when you drink wine, and I can smell it on your breath.”

Slipping your hands up from their place around his neck into his hair you giggled slightly, looking at the now dyed blonde locks of hair.

“You dyed it back?”

“You said you liked it. I thought you’d be my date and I had the appointment so I didn’t want to cancel.”

“You weren’t hoping I’d show up here?”

“I knew you would. I saw you talking to Jihoon outside last night through the window. I wasn’t sure exactly because you did walk away and he never told me what happened. But, when I saw you today sitting in the crowd. I knew my inkling was right.”

“Did the cohesive outfit impress you? I missed one night, but I hope I made up for it today.”

Soonyoung pushed you away slightly by your shoulders and made you do a spin for him.

“You look beautiful.”

“You’re such a dork.”

Soonyoung playfully swung you around in the office covered in photos of church go-ers and crosses, bringing you into his chest tightly.

“So, what did you write in that article? That I was devilishly handsome and cool?”

“Nope. Just that you were a bad kisser.”

“Seems like you need a reminder.”

“Maybe.”

As your lips met Soonyoungs once again your heart sank into your stomach and was beating rapidly. You just fit and he never once doubted your heart.

“What do you say? Should we go outside and dance?”

“Can you even dance?”

“Y/n? Can I even dance? What do you even think I do for a living?”

“Oh. I’m such an idiot. Anna works at a talent agency. Got it.”

“Come on, silly. Before our audience outside gets bigger.”

When you exited the office back into the group of people outside, for some reason Jihoon started a cheer alongside his new wife.

Soon you and Soonyoung were dancing the night away and drinking a little too much than your stomachs could handle.

When you finally got a moment of dizzy drunkenness alone, he had you sitting on a bench where he knelt to the ground. Your mouth got the better of you once again.

“Oh my god you're not proposing already are you I mean I know I’m amaz-”

“Y/n shut up, I’m tying my shoe.”

“Cool, cool. Got it.”

“But the next wedding I attend hopefully I’ll be the groom.”

With a wink Soonyoung sat back at your side as you watched the stars together, making a mental note that the next wedding would belong to the both of you.

taglist: @sahazzy

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gretavanlace · 10 months

Text

Valtava

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, pain during sex (this is handled gently and lovingly) language, dirty talk, etc.

Everyone thank our dear @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the scene where his head is resting on her stomach. I’ll say no more to avoid spoiling it, but it’s delicious and it was her idea that she so kindly left in my hands. Thank you, you filthy genius, you. I love you madly. Also, I no longer remember who to credit for this pic of Josh, it’s been in my camera roll so long. But I couldn’t not use it for this…that’s dangerously close to sacrilege.

“This scene right here,” Josh speaks over Ray Liotta’s musings, one arm stretched across the back of his couch, the other bent to stroke his thumb along your jawline, absently “This is where Scorsese really stretches his wings. Here we are, watching the heinous discovery of murder after murder while Layla, a song about love and lust, lulls us. We feel both safe and shaky.”

His fingers now wind through your hair, relaxed and warm, with your head in his lap. “I think it serves as a reminder that even ugly can dip its toe into the waters of beautiful, if you squint hard enough.”

He pauses and talks over his own stream of thoughts, “Well, most ugly things, anyway. Someone saw these murders as a necessary evil. Something to ensure the world they had built for themselves, for their families, stayed clean. Someone went home and slept a little easier knowing there was one less heart beating out there ready to turn state's witness on them.”

You nod and hope for him to keep going. The way his mind works fascinates you, as does the unique lilt of his tone, and the excitement that sharpens his gaze when he is ruminating on something that really spins the wheel for the hamster in his brain.

Catering to your unspoken wish, he carries on, “And maybe even the victims were in on the method to the madness, y’know? They chose the life they chose, they understood how quickly loyalty and love can shape- shift into survival and self preservation. Layla helps the audience understand. It marries the beauty and the bloodshed for the people in the seats.” he shakes his head in wonder. “It’s fucking genius.”

“Thought your brother was the big Marty fan?” You ask, studying the perfect cupid's bow of his lips from below.

“Jake?” His eyes are on the screen, but his focus is on you. “Tarantino. I dig the use of his nickname, though. Marty. It makes it seem as if you have him over for dinner regularly.”

“Maybe I do.” You tease.

You earn a smile, but still not his gaze. “And what do you serve?”

Adopting a tone of nonchalance, you shrug, “Usually, we make love until dawn and then share cold spaghettiOs right out of the can.”

“Ah,” He nods seriously, “the opulence. It’s all very grand.”

A comfortable silence wraps itself around you both until you have a thought that pokes to be shared.

“Do you suppose Scorsese might have chosen Layla because of the double-edged sword it also happens to be as a piece? Since Clapton wrote it about his best friend's wife?” You feel a blush heat your cheeks, and immediately wish you hadn’t contributed. He knows so much about film and you know so little.

True to Joshua-form, however, he hushes your unease effortlessly. “Shit! I’d never even considered that. The beauty for Clapton was the ugly for Harrison. God, I’m so in love with the way your mind sees everything that’s invisible to mine.”

I’m so in love with…

He means the ideas in your head, the quiet corners of your thoughts, but it quickens your heart and nudges the butterflies in your stomach to life, nonetheless.

So, you pull yourself up, a thigh nestled on either side of his waist in the blink of a breath.

“Hi.” You long for the timid smile dancing shyly on your lips to morph into something sultry. Something sexy. Something that might flicker the darkened flame, that hides down deep in his belly, to life.”

“Hi.” He grins back, allowing you to wiggle around until you’re comfy in his lap. “If Goodfellas is boring you, I stand zero chance of keeping you entertained, baby love.”

Your fingers worry over the beads looped around his neck and then twist into the soft pink linen of his shirt, finally coming to rest at the button fastened nearest to his throat. Your eyes travel over him, hungry to soak him in. To tuck this image of Josh, so quietly content with you perched above him, away in your heart…a pretty picture to revisit when he inevitably becomes a memory.

What is he thinking? That question seems to occupy your mind more often than any other. He is an enigma. A mystery parading as wide open sunshine.

Intrusive thoughts, cruel and unrelenting, silently bully you. You’ve become quite adept at ignoring them over the years, opting for at least some semblance of normalcy in your quest for a happy, healthy life. Whatever that means.

But these thoughts in particular are cloaked in far too much truth…too many signs pointing to the worst being the obvious…to be easily disregarded.

You want to say these things to him. If only to bask in the assurance you might catch in his reply. But to risk the absence of said reassurance, is a feat too great.

Instead, you begin a tentative roll of your hips as you lean in close to meet his pillowy lips with your own. He tastes of mint, and the IPA he has been nursing, and Josh.

Like always, he indulges the kiss, but stills your hips, and you long to vanish into thin air, leaving nothing more than a coiling wisp of smoke in your wake. The rejection comes with a throbbing ache in your chest. Is your heart truly breaking? Now you’ll be forced to offer it to him in pieces.

And he isn’t the only one to indulge in old habits, because, also like always, you crawl into the safe embrace of humor. “You’re right, Joshua…you’re boring me. Back to the brilliant mind of Marty, my beloved.”

You slide off of him and stretch back out on the couch, focusing on the screen to hide your tear glossed eyes as he gets comfortable behind you.

“Scorsese, you bastard,” he shakes his fist in mock indignation, “how dare you steal the affections of my woman?”

A forced laugh comes out sounding a little too close to a sob. You play it off as best you can. Nothin’ to see here.

Alas, he catches it. And, of course, he won’t leave it alone, though you certainly ask him too.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” He turns you toward him, hovering over you as you lie on your back and long to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“I just— I mean,” death seems of great comfort. “Is it me? Do you not… are you not… am I not pretty enough? Or sexy enough? Or… I don’t know,”

A frown of deep concern furrows his brow as his palms move to cup your face, “What? Are you not…Jesus, baby, of course you are. Fuck, if anything you’re too much. Too pretty, too sweet, too smart, too sexy.”

Your words come quiet and small, quivering with painful vulnerability “Then why?” You close your eyes, and thankfully, he allows you to hide this way.

Exactly what you knew would happen, happens. He lies without lying. “Why, what?” He sounds of feigned confusion. He knows what you mean.

Throat now constricted and pulsing with a wringing pain, you close your eyes tighter, unwilling to bear witness to whatever lie will follow his last. “Why don’t you want me?”

A tear breaches the dam you had hoped was impenetrable. You loathe and curse it.

“Hey, shhh…don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He brushes the tear away and then kisses over the path it took.

“Don’t cry?” You snap. A twinge of regret flares to life within you. You’ve never spoken to him unkindly, and could it be that there’s no going back? Perhaps this is it; the end of the road you’ve been heading inevitably for.

To your great surprise, he laughs. You crack an eyelid open to find it sincere. “So, she’s capable of something other than sugar, spice, and everything nice, after all.”

His hand smooths down your chest - can he feel the violent rattle of your heart as it thrums and beats out of control?

When at last he speaks, there is an edge to his tone you’ve never heard before. It warms you clear through to your curling toes “You think I don’t want you?”

You shrug, all pink cheeks and complete ineloquence.

“Well,” he soothes, drawing gentle patterns upon your temple and forehead, “you should know, that is far from the case.”

But, rather than take the moment further, as he so easily could, as you so desperately want him to, he sinks into an innocent position - resting his cheek on your stomach as you struggle to keep it from rising and falling too rapidly, his eyes, once more, on the screen.

The film drones on; mafia murders and cocaine swirling down flushed toilets. Betrayal and 20/20 hindsight…

…and on you watch, on the surface - in reality, you can think of nothing else other than the weight of his head on your stomach.

There is a dull ache there, inside you, gripping at every nerve ending all at once. He knows what you want, and he very obviously doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t want you.

He speaks first, and there’s too much truth in it. He knows you too well. “I need you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” You stupidly offer a tiny shrug, but for what? He isn’t even looking at you.

“Your walls, I can feel you stacking bricks. Stop, or I’ll take a wrecking ball to them.” he pets over your forearm comfortingly. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, Miley,” you toss the joke out like a life preserver for yourself. “Just don’t start licking sledgehammers and we’ll be alright.”

He gives you the softest laugh. It more closely resembles a sigh, “Is it only sledgehammers that you are opposed to me licking?”

Oh.

When he coolly pushes your shirt up and begins dragging his lips, licked slick and warm, around your belly button, you think you might burst into tiny, burning, longing, pieces. God, how you want him.

“You like that, baby love?” He speaks the words melodically into the room like a lullaby, hushed as a priest absolving you of your sins in a darkened confessional.

A whiny hum is all you seem capable of, but it doesn’t look like it matters much to him.

“Yeah?” He’s teasing now, and you think it might kill you. Your hips begin a barely perceptible rock in response. “Can I touch you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

“Josh, please,” his name is less than a whisper. It’s a plea gasped into the dark, dancing with the flickering glow of the tv as it blinks and changes like lightning.

The warmth of his hand between them causes your thighs to twitch and tremble, but he hovers just above making actual contact. “God, look at you. How could you ever doubt how much I want you? So pretty. Can I touch you here, baby? My pretty, pretty girl.”

With a soft moan, you lift your hips, pressing into his palm. He doesn’t push for words, your body has given him all the consent he needs, and the want in your eyes reiterates.

His mouth is wandering your soft, flushed, stomach as he slides your pants away, gentle and sure, the tip of his tongue bridging the distance between his kisses.

Your hands weave down into his wild curls, comforted by the way they wrap themselves into your touch, spiraling around your fingers as you tug at them and tenderly scratch over his scalp. A particularly sweet drag brings a shiver to life on his shoulders. He groans in appreciation and runs away with another piece of your heart.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmur, surprised and grateful, when at last, he sinks a single finger into your warmth.

Should you at least have the decency to feel shy about the sound it makes? About the way you must be soaking his skin? Perhaps. But you don’t, and judging by the curse he secrets into the still of the night, there isn’t any reason to.

“Does that feel good?” He isn’t taunting you, it’s a genuine question, but there is a hint of a teasing tone there as well, peeking out from around the edges of his words and you think it might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“So good.” You’re whining and writhing beneath him, tiny pouty huffs of breath tumbling off your lips over and over…but you don’t care about that either.

His finger slips out and you mourn it pitifully, until it swirls around your swollen clit, tearing a shaking cry out of your chest. And then, there it is again, filling you as his thumb begins a slick trail of tight circles just right.

“You want more?” Oh god…the way he sounds, the way you feel. He’s setting you further and further on fire with his gentle, decadent, prodding. With his breathy, gingerly obscene questions. Flames - scorching and crackling - lick up inside you. Incinerating as they consume.

“More?” He asks again, rasping the word, wantonly urging you on.

“Yes!” You nod frantically, spreading your legs further. You want him, need him, so badly…coveting the very breath in his lungs for its privilege of being inside him in a way you’ll never know. You long to trickle down into his pores and vanish.

A second finger - they feel longer than they have ever looked - joins the first and then begins a perfect, guiding, curl.

Tucking into that perfect place inside you, he fucks the pads of his fingers against it ever so carefully. Gently spinning your head in every direction.

He rests against your belly as the muscles inside churn and flex beneath his ear, watching intently as his hand fucks away at you. He wonders what it might be like to stretch you to almost breaking. How it would feel to push another finger inside, and then another, and another. When would you tell him to stop? Three? Four? Could you take that burning stretch? Would you relish it and ask for more? Fuck, he hopes so.

But you feel so tight around him…just two fingers full and you’re squeezing like you’ll never let go. He worries, and the pounding pulse of neglect that aches rhythmically in his cock, reminds him that he worries rightly so.

He has always believed you to be the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever had the pleasure of landing upon, but he’s never seen you like this - spread open, soaked and puffy with want. With need…for him. It doesn’t seem possible.

The way you move…fluidly, like ripples chasing over the surface of a placid lake, urging him along with your body. Your gorgeous cunt sucking his fingers in. A goddess, a beckoning siren, an angel…he can’t look away.

Can’t until he hears it, until he feels it, how close you are. Wild, frothing, horses couldn’t keep him from the gift of watching your face as you fall apart. An army of men wouldn’t stand a chance. He wants this moment with you, and he will have it. He wants to make you cum, and he wants to watch your eyes go blurry with it, and so watch he will.

“C’mon, baby…” he goes breathless when his face tilts up to meet yours. You are flushed and panting, lips parted. The soft pink of your tongue just barely visible, blushing like saltwater taffy in your mouth and he wants to lick against it, wants to taste you.

The smallest blips of a sound he can’t describe chase each other out of that beautiful mouth he wants to kiss so badly. Tiny uh’s that shift into gasps of desperation. You’re right there, and he wants it more than you do.

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he eases his chin into the softness just below your navel, creating a delicious pressure, and crooks his finger so perfectly, pressing and stroking until it feels like you’re floating and the only thing holding you in place is him.

It is celestial. He is every constellation and you are the astronomer, feet held to the ground by gravity, eye pressed against a telescopic lens hopefully, frantic for a glimpse of his wonder.

There is only Josh.

“Almost there, pretty girl,” he nods, gaze glossed with lust and something that looks like love. “You gonna give it to me?”

You are. You’re going to give it to him. You couldn’t stop it now if you tried. Fluttering walls trap him inside you as his stare fixes, unmoving and heated, with yours.

“That’s it, baby love, that’s it.” He urges you on, leads you deeper and deeper, those long, warm, perfect, fingers working you like he’s been there a thousand times before. “Shh, you’re alright. I’m right here, just breathe for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to realize your lungs are burning for a breath you’ve been unknowingly denying them - and with that hissing, hungry, gasp for air, you explode under him.

He watches, mezmorized, as your eyes roll back, teeth clenched like some ethereal, feral creature. It bursts out of you, clear and shimmering, like liquid diamonds, but you don’t know it yet, he can tell…you’re too far gone, and he fucking loves it. He fucking loves you.

He has said it aloud. I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. I love you.

But that’s the thing that he doesn’t know yet because he’s also too far gone.

You’re quiet, gentle. Sweet, whining whimpers floating out of you as you vibrate and spill.

On your end, you hear the confession of how deeply his feelings run, but you don’t register…it will settle in later and you’ll weep for not saying it back. Though you don’t need to, he knows.

Once you’ve settled, he pushes up until you are eye to eye, lapping your release off his fingers. You’re sweet enough to lick off a whisk like cake batter, and he tells you so…but you can focus on nothing but the shining glint of you that he wears so well.

Shocked by the sheer amount, you blush hard and hot. Burning brighter still when it drips from his hand and lands on your lip. In an act you don’t seem aware of, you lick it away like a raindrop. The very sight of it, the somehow still innocent depravity, weakens him until he is forced to swallow a whine.

“Had I known what I was missing,” he grins lazily, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

The confusion sends you crashing back to reality.

“But why stop yourself at all?” Your eyes are so wide and clear. It makes him want to gather you up and keep you safe.

Once more, it crosses his mind that you’re an angel. He wonders where your wings have gone.

“Because, I—“ he falters, shaking his head as if he might rattle his thoughts into place. Finally, he opts to show, not tell, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him.

And feel him, you do, but only for a moment. He’s so hard you’re cozy from the heat of it through the sweats he was lounging in when you arrived.

You’ve noticed. Of course you have. You’ve stolen a glance or two when he wasn’t looking. How could you not? You’d just always thought, and not to be crass, you’d always just assumed he was a shower, rather than a grower.

Now you aren’t so certain. He felt massive during the short amount of time he was rocking into you.

“You’re thinking very hard, baby love.” He smiles down at you. “Are those thoughts in my favor, or…?”

He trails off and awaits your answer with that Josh-like patience. Rather than speaking, you curl your hands around the waistband of his pants and then cast your eyes up, in silent question.

Nodding the go ahead, he continues watching you closely…studying your reaction as you tug him free.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive sighs out of you as the tip of his cock - leaking, angry and swollen - slaps up, well above his belly button, with a solid thump.

He’s big. So big. Long and thick, beautifully shaped. Blushing pink at the head, and visibly pulsing under your awestruck scrutiny. You absently wonder how he isn’t light-headed for the amount of blood it must require to bring him to such full attention.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He explains softly, finally letting you in on the secret of why he’s been so skittish, “And I didn’t want to…”

His confession loses traction as he watches your mouth rather than meeting your gaze.

Your palms reach for him, cupping his angelic face with as much gentleness as the renewed desire racing through your veins will allow. “You didn’t want to what?”

While he searches for the words, you curl your thighs around him and pull him in, moaning out his name like a mantra when you feel him against you, skin to skin.

“God damn, baby…” he rocks his hips closer to yours and then remembers what he’s doing. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You tease, trying to lighten the heavy load of his anxiety.

“I know.” His mouth meets yours, searching out a slow, needful kiss. “But I kept imagining hurting you, and you being too sweet to say so. I’m still imagining it.”

Your tongue licks into his mouth as you wrap your fist around him. “Look at you, Josh,” you smile shyly through a kiss that is anything but shy. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“Grew up under some power lines.” He teases, relaxing as he pecks along your jaw.

“I want you inside me.” You sound despondent, and feel just as forlorn, the look in his eye warns you may have a fight on your hands.

“Pretty girl,” he tucks himself away and begins kissing a slow, serpentine trail down your body after he flutters your shirt, indicating he wants it off. “I could barely get two fingers in your sweet little pussy. Why don’t you just let me kiss it? Don’t you want to cum on my tongue, hmm? Won’t that feel nice?”

Such filth is a captivating development, and one you like very much…but, you stop him all the same. Grabbing him by the hair with enough force to tilt his head back, pulling his mouth away from your straining nipple, you issue a demand you intend to make sure he fulfills, “I said, inside, Joshua.”

He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a grin of dirty glee. “Joshua?”

Ignoring him, you watch as he licks the pad of his thumb and then arch away from the cushion when he begins a steady, swirling journey over your clit with it. “Gonna make you cum first, love. Again and again. I’m gonna baby this gorgeous cunt until my name is the only word you want in your mouth…and then I want you to fill my mouth.”

“Jesus, Josh…” you’ve never wanted anything more, but you can hardly force the words out to convey just how fucking agreeable you are.

“You want that?” He flicks over you faster and faster, indulging in your pouty, needy cries, praying they never end. “You want to cum in my mouth? Feed me something sweet?”

“Easy, baby love,” he coos, whispering to you like you’re a tiny, broken bird, fallen from the nest and afraid. “You’ve got to relax a little more for me.”

“Yeah…” you nod, staring up at him as if he painted your entire world into existence. And maybe he did.

No longer able to count the number of orgasms he’s gifted you with, you feel like liquid silk. Or clay in his palm, happy to be molded to his liking.

“Yeah?” He drops a kiss onto your forehead and pushes in just a hint further, eyes darting up when you hiss with discomfort.

You offer a smile for him to continue and he returns it gently, but the way he’s fighting for breath betrays him. He wants you badly, he’s going slowly mad with the need to bury into your body to the hilt.

His fingertips skate a ticklish trail down the curve of your waist and then grip into your thigh, spreading you open a bit wider.

Both bare now completely to each other for the first time, you’ve given yourself over right there on the couch. The room is silent, save for hushed words and choked breaths twisting languidly through the air, the movie long since over.

He’d wanted to carry you off to the bedroom, but you refused.

You want him here. You want him now.

Palm cradling the back of your head, he brings you forward until your mouth is sucking at his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good girl.” His praise flips your stomach. A violent somersault of carnal need. “You just suck and bite all you want. I’m gonna take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

Nodding urgently against him, you’re far too interested in the marks you're leaving against his overheated skin.

“Words for me, okay?” He coaxes so gently it makes your chest ache.

“You’re going to take care of me.” You mumble through a long lick along his collarbone.

Without reply, he slides in deeper, yet still not much more than the tip rests inside you.

A shocked cry escapes you before you can stifle it and his face snaps up, searching your own for tells of pain that he doesn’t have to look all that closely for. “Baby,” the pet name sings out of him, a soft crooning apology. “Let’s stop, I…”

“No, please!’ The frantic want bubbling up inside you colors your voice and surprises you both, but he masks it well.

“Hush, love. No one’s stopping yet.” he soothes, massaging your hip carefully. Just wisps of touch, but you relax beneath it like a sleepy babe cradled up snug and safe.

You’re not fond of that ‘yet’ he tacked on to the end of his promise.

“Deeper.” Your hips lift, forcing his hand while you gulp down another sound of discomfort.

“Don’t.” His grip is suddenly digging into your waist, no longer careful, but swift and insistent instead. “Let me take my time. Let me be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s right, and you tell him as much as he begins a slow, stuttering journey. Starting and stopping as you writhe with impatience and uncomfortability in his capable hands.

Reaching up, he guides your fingers down until they brush over your sensitive clit. “You take care of this for me, okay, baby? Help me make this easier for my pretty girl…I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

“Please, Josh…” you sound a mess, and who gives a damn? “Please!”

You’re right, it’s time. He knows it better than you do. He can wait no more. There isn’t far to go anyway.

Suddenly, with one firm thrust, he drives in all the way to the base, shuddering as you coil around him like a hot, wet, fist. Squeezing harder and tighter and fuck….

“So fucking tight.” He is trembling, fighting the urge to let go already. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go. Pussy so pretty and soft. Like the sweetest thing all dressed in pink. Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”

Your eyes drift closed, breathing through the last remnants of the biting sting. You’re so full, it feels so good. So right. So completely perfect, you cannot begin to fathom how you’ve lived all these years without him inside you.

“Say it.” He sounds like an angel clawing his way closer and closer to something he can’t survive without any longer.

“What?”

“Tell me you’re gorgeous.” He’s fucking you faster now…and it stings, but it hurts so good you want to feel the burn forever. “Say you’re my beautiful girl. Come on, I wanna know that you know.”

“I—“ your face flares as pink as the cunt he’s currently locked inside

“That’s it, baby love…” he coaxes, pumping into you with long, torturous strokes. “C’mon,”

A little less tentative now - he effortlessly makes you believe - the words finally come “I’m gorgeous.”

He smiles so wide his nose crinkles as he nods and dips his lips to meet your own. “Fuck yes you are. My pretty girl. You’re doing so well, look at you. Just taking and taking and taking me.”

Pulling you up and away from the pillow gently, he guides your line of sight to the sinful image of him gliding in and out of you. His cock, glistening and covered in your unbridled desire - it catches the light and steals your heart. Is it possible to be in love with a cock? Or are you just in love with the man who wields it?

Both. Most definitely, both.

“Look, baby, look…” a quivering huff escapes him. “It’s like coming home. Being inside you is like coming fucking home.”

“Harder,” you beg, winded and lost. He feels so good inside you. Stretched further than you ever thought possible around him, you clench and twist a fist into the throw pillow beneath you until your fingernails threaten to rip it open.

“Just…fuck,” his pretty face buries itself in the crook of your neck with a whimper as he falters. “Just a little.”

The room is hazy and blurred, filled with sounds neither of you can seem to quiet. Each moan and breath filling your head up until you feel feverish. Every groan and gasp pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Your bodies meet in a sweat glazed dance that causes your teeth to grit together - biting down hard to suppress a scream that he might confuse with pain.

He tucks his own teeth into your throat deeply, growling out a melodic sound that sets you on fire, when the salt of your skin hits his tongue.

A shaky, “I’m gonna cum, baby love…where, baby, where?” Pants out of him with a desperate urgency the moment he releases your skin from his bite.

“Inside…” you plead, clawing at his waist as your thighs lock him in close. “Cum inside me…c’mon. Please,”

“Pretty girl begging for my cum. Begging me to ruin this beautiful little cunt…” he sounds as if he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“Ruin it, baby,” your palms drift up his back, slow and steady…urging him along gently. “Ruin me.”

A sound so exquisitely angelic rumbles up out of his chest. Deep and primal, but somehow gentle and submissive, like he wants to fall at your feet in veneration of something holy and ancient.

He falls against you, pulling you as close as he can get you, and then draws the scent of your hair in only to feel that much closer. Rocking into you as he slowly comes down and finds himself.

Gathering you in his arms, he lifts you away from the disheveled couch, ignoring you when you protest weakly that you can walk.

A bath is drawn and laced with plain epsom salt to soothe your throbbing muscles. He slips into the steaming water behind you, cradling you as he drags a washcloth over your skin.

Quiet verses of a song you’ve never heard are whispered in your ear as you drift into a light slumber without worry, confident that he will keep your head safe above water.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @thelvnternskeeper @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #gvf fic #josh kiszka #fanfic #gvf josh #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiskza fanfic #josh gvf #smut

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sanrio-gyal · 1 month

Text

The cultural significance of

Akatsuki amvs to “calling all the monsters” or “pokerface”

the Kakuhida and Sasodei “anything you can do” I can do better animatics.

“Akatsuki funny pictures” with the songs hamster dance, witch doctor, and boom boom boom boom.

The yaoi, seme, uke, lemon discourse. The “ukes” randomly ending up in skirts and dresses

The various mpreg Akatsuki fanfics. The Akatsuki fan children.

Kisaita, Sasodei, Kakuhida and tobizet amvs with the “warning yaoi. Don’t like don’t watch.” Or “warning boy x boy. Please no flames”

The Akatsuki cat fics.

Them literally being the tumblr sexy men.

The random “glomps” and Japanese words throughout fanfics.

The skinny black jeans and converse fits in every fanfic.

The Akatsuki high school fics where they were all bad boys and wore hoodies with the cloud on it.

The rock band aus.

The random ocs that somehow always got with Itachi.

The Akatsuki cosplay videos on yt and the awkward cosplays posted on deviantart.

The Akatsuki forums.

The Akatsuki members having to share one bed while traveling.

The end notes where the author would argue with the Akatsuki members.

Naruto joining the Akatsuki. The various fanfics and artwork that had an obsession with collars.

The time where people were confused about Deidara and Konan’s gender, sasori was drawn with white hair, and people thought Tobi was a teenager.

The ships sasori x zetsu, konan x Hidan, Madara x Deidara, Tobi x Zetsu, Itachi x Deidara.

The fangirls and ocs harassing the members and konan being a fujoshi.

The Akatsuki dress up flash games.

Sigh….what a time to be alive

#the 2000s fandom was so fun #early internet culture #akatsuki #deidara #sasori #konan #hidan #kisame #kakuzu #sasodei #kisaita #Kakuhida

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vanfleeter · 3 months

Text

Omnia

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff. Smut so minors DNI. Mentions of sex. Because what is a classic love letter without a little bit of smut.

Summary: Writing a heartfelt letter.

Today is Valentine’s Day. Normally the two of you don’t celebrate, which is fine. Not everyone does and that’s okay. You both mutually agreed to not celebrate but should either one want to do something, it can be something small. Nothing big and nothing expensive. In the past, Jake has just about gotten you something for that day, but still sticking to nothing huge and nothing expensive.

It’s always been a cheesy hallmark card that the two of you can giggle over. One year he found a card that plays music and of course it played the Hamster Dance to go along with the hamster on the front that held a red heart balloon and had cheesy Valentine’s Day saying on it.

So this year, that’s what you were expecting. A cheesy card hand picked from a gift aisle in CVS. Although, things didn’t quite go as you had expected. Still.. Nothing huge and nothing expensive.

Waking that morning you had found a bouquet of your favorite flowers resting on the nightstand beside your bed with a sticky note attached.

‘Omnia’

One simple word scrawled on the piece of paper. Placed delicately beside the bouquet is a red envelope with your name written on it. This was different. Normally he’d wait until after work to give the card and not first thing in the morning, nor did he ever buy flowers. Claiming he can buy you flowers all the time, nothing makes them more special just because it’s a holiday.

Sitting up in the bed, you reach for the card and break open the seal. You were surprised yet again to not find a cheesy card, but instead a handwritten letter. He’s deviating from the usual plan. Why?

Shrugging off the inquisitives, you pull out the paper and unfold it. Your jaw slowly drops as you find a completely handwritten letter all in his own handwriting. You’ve gotten handwritten letters before. A thing he started doing while away on tour. He’d write everything in a notebook, sort of like he was journaling. But instead of addressing some made up imaginary person, he’d be addressing you. Each day, he’d reaccount everything that happened, down to the smallest detail so it made you feel like you had actually been there.

Making yourself comfortable within the pillows and blankets, you begin to read the letter.

2/13/2024 My dearest love, I come to you in this letter to express my profound love to you. Normally you would be getting a cheesy Hallmark card bought from a CVS on my way home from work. Not this year. I wanted to do something different so here goes nothing.. Ever since I had met you, I just knew you were meant for me. I couldn’t stop thinking about you those first few nights after meeting you. I had to see you again, I had to know you. There was something about you that drew me in like a siren singing her song luring me to my death. Although you weren’t luring me to my death. Never mind, scratch that. You should know that I’m highly nervous writing this so bare with me.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you and you burrow down deeper into the bed as you continue on.

I’ve never told you this, although maybe I should have. I feel like I should have, but nonetheless, I am now. I have loved you since that moment I laid my eyes on you. You had those beautiful eyes that just sucked me in and your laugh was so contagious. This is written in past tense but it still rings true to this day. I think the reason I never told you that I fell in love with you that day was because truthfully, I was terrified. So I lied and told you that I started falling for you when I caught you rescuing a little fly that got caught on a spider’s web and then proceeded to freak out because the spider landed on your arm. I was already in love with you before that, but it did make me fall harder. I still think about that moment. How hard I had laughed after I had told you to be careful. I was determined to try to keep up with this mysterious facade because I didn’t want to come across as the sappy, romantic kind of guy. Though we both know that that didn’t last very long. Slowly I started showing you the real me. The funny, cheesy, and sometimes clumsy self. You’re probably rolling your eyes at this and calling me a liar. Okay, I’m more clumsy than I’ll admit but I guess being clumsy came in handy because as much as I tend to trip over my own feet and fall, I know that I’m falling in love with you. Each and every day. And now you’re probably thinking, ‘Smooth one, Jake’. Yes, I know, I am pretty smooth.

This time you did roll your eyes.

I’ll be honest with you.. I wanted to write this in the most elegant way that I could. Everyone knows me to write these exquisite captions for my Instagram posts or to say profound things that most of the time make no sense to anyone. But I’m writing to you and I want to be authentic. I want to just be me. Jake. Your Jake. Your Squishy. Why you call me that, I probably won’t ever know but as long as it’s you calling me that, I’ll allow it. Anyways, moving on. There’s a lot to love about you. Your heart for one. You never fail to amaze me with the love you pour out. Whether it be your hugs, the kind smiles you offer, or the endearing words of encouragement, you’re always radiating love. Kind of reminds me of Josh. I know life hasn’t been easy but I’m proud of how you’ve made it through it all and yet you’re still pouring out your love like it's endless. And to quote my brother, love has no bounds. Especially with you. You’re boundless. You inspire me. And there’s more to your love than just your hugs and encouraging words. The way you express your love to me. Especially in bed. Have I made you blush? Good, because I love the way you make me feel when we’re in bed together, completely entangled. You make me feel good–so fucking good. Your hands, so soft against my skin as you drag your fingers down my back–and then not so soft as you scrap up my back. I’ll have to admit, it turns me on even more when you do that. Tells me that I’m doing a great job at fucking you. Oh you thought this was going to be a romantic love letter of me only swooning over you? Well, my love, guess again. Didn’t you know all the classic writers wrote dirty letters to their lovers? Don’t count me out. Back to the topic at hand.. Fucking..

You laugh again and bite into your bottom lip as you continue reading.

Making love to you is one of my favorite things to do. I love the feeling of being pressed up against you, feeling every curve of your body–from your beautiful breasts down to your hips, your ass, your thighs. God those thighs.. I can feel the way you clench them around my head as I’m fucking you with my tongue and dragging you to your orgasm.

You can feel the arousal beginning to spread between your legs, slowly soaking your underwear. Even in a letter he can make you wet.

But what I love to feel the most is you fully wrapped around me as you take my cock. Thrusting into you, hitting all of those spots that really get you. You are the lock and I am the key that clicks in place with every thrust of my hips, unlocking every single thing that makes you unravel in my hands. If I had it my way, I’d never leave that bed. I wouldn't mind being tangled up in the sheets with you every day. Not having a care in the world while I’m making love to you. I should probably stop this letter at some point before I make you a mess. But also because my hand is starting to cramp. I chose the wrong pen to write this with. So to end this in my true fashion.. In omnia paratus. I am prepared for it all. Prepared to love you for the rest of my days, or for as long as you’ll have me. I am prepared to endure all things with you–the good and even the bad. I love you completely with every fiber of my being and I still hope to this day that you do too. Happy Valentine’s Day. All my love, Jake’

Folding the letter back up, you press it against your chest as you bite back down into your bottom lip and squeal.

Pulling yourself back up into a sitting position, you reach for your phone and pull up his contact. Pressing the phone to your ear as it rings, you can hear the familiar ringtone down the hallway. It draws near to the room and you pull the device away from your ear as he steps into the doorway. He’s carrying a couple takeout bags of food.

He smirks when he sees the letter still clutched in your hand. “I see you’ve read it already.” He walks over to his side of the bed and sets the bags of food on the nightstand.

Setting the letter back down beside the flowers, you crawl across the bed and rest on your knees in front of him. You throw your arms around him and draw him in for a kiss.

“Would you hate me if I asked for a handwritten letter every year from now on?”

He chuckles but nods his head. “I could never hate you.” He says. “And yes, I think I can do that. I take it, you liked it?”

“I loved it.” You say. “My squishy.”

“Seriously, why do you call me that?”

“Because..” You slide your hands up his arms and caress his face in your palms. “You’re just so squishy!” You say as you squish his cheeks.

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “You’re so weird.”

Gripping his ass in your hands, you push him against you, already feeling his hardening bulge inside of his pants. You give him a smirk and he chuckles.

“Nice Gilmore Girls reference by the way.” You say with a giggle. “Guess that part stuck with you.”

He smiles and nods his head. “Kind of made sense in the grand scheme of things.” He gives you another kiss as presses his body tighter against yours. “Now.. Your choice.. Breakfast first or..” He holds up a finger in the air and pecks your lips. “I can recreate everything I wrote in that letter.”

“Breakfast can wait.” You say and begin to lift his shirt up and over his head.

_____________________________________________________

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#jake kiszka #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #gvf #jake kiszka fluff #valentines

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