#josh kiszka

[readyforthegarden]

something something arm something something lips

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner

[gracev0609]

I have made this terrible discovery....

His arms, his chest

#josh kiszka #hes so fine #he really has the audacity to look that good #his ass is probably phenomenal in those now

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 19.8k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Protected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

The heat of your breath is fogging up the windows of the van as you drift in and out of a dazy snooze. The morning has already been long, with a wake-up time of 3:30AM to be on the van to the airport by 4:00AM. The flight to Amsterdam from Hamburg was short, only a little over an hour long, thank goodness. However, now all you can think about is getting checked into your hotel room and crashing back out for a couple of hours before you have to wake up again. 

Paul, Wes, and Corri are occupying the seats toward the front of the van, and you’re thankful you can let your head rest on the window in peace. Your AirPods are stuck in your ears with the volume just loud enough that you could hear if one of them spoke to you, but still enough to fully enjoy the music floating through your ears. You don’t even dare listen to the playlist Jake made for you, it almost puts a sour taste in your mouth just looking at it, especially after what happened last night. 

Of course Josh caught you. Of course it had to be him. But what is really still throwing you for a loop is why Josh felt he had to keep the encounter such a secret, locking his lips and doing away with the key. 

Jake hadn’t said anything about your last addition of ‘High and Dry’, but you chalked it up to him just wanting to diffuse the situation after you left the bar, alone. You thought he might walk you back, given the situation you’d found yourself in just two nights prior, but he didn’t. He stayed, and let you go. And thankfully you’d made it back safely by yourself. 

The more you think about it, the more you realize Jake had plenty of time to text a quick ‘Sorry about that’ or ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, goodnight…’ but he didn’t. Again. Just left you….high and dry. And what made it even worse was that as you were trying to fall asleep in your hotel room last night, you heard the faint sound of the song playing out in the hallway. Jake was coming back to his room, listening to the song you added for him as he meandered closer and closer. But instead of a knock on your door, all you heard was the latch of his closing. 

You find yourself feeling a little pissed off, because the moment you shared in the dark bathroom really felt like something. It was…very fucking hot, if you’re being honest. He felt good. He felt strong, and sturdy, but also gentle and delicate when he needed to be. You can almost still feel how he felt between your legs, pressed up against you as you sat on the edge of the sink. His hands on your back, mouth on your neck, fingertips digging into your thighs….

“Y/N! Let’s get out of here!” You hear Corri’s brash voice wake you from your rated-R daydream, and you have to blink a few times to get the image of Jake all over you out of your head. You stretch a little and pull the music from your ears as the cab light comes on, and the four of you exit the van. You check into your far too luxurious hotel room, and crash onto the bed without even bothering to change your clothes. 

—

Your alarm startles you two hours later, and surprisingly the cat nap has you feeling extremely refreshed. You jump from the bed and pull the curtains on the window, showing you the scene of a cloudy Amsterdam from your fourth-story room. You can feel the cold air moving through the window, and you know it’s going to be another bitterly chilly day. 

After a quick rinse-shower, you sit back on the bed to check your phone and emails and see you have a text from an unknown number from just ten minutes ago.

Unknown

9:02AM: Hey! We’re going to go see the city and walk around a little, you want to go?

You deduce that it is probably Mia or Lyla, and you contemplate on whether or not you want to even move from your bed today. But after a little thought, and another glance to the sun barely peeking through the clouds, you decide, why the hell not. You don’t want to see Jake, really, but the regret you’d feel for not seeing Amsterdam while you’re here would probably be worse. You send up a quick prayer that Josh will keep your secret today, and not make things any more awkward than they already are. 

You

9:04AM: Hey, sure! I’d love to 😊

Unknown

9:05AM: Cool! We’re leaving in an hour, we’ll meet up in the lobby. Dress warm!

9:05AM: This is Lyla, btw

You

9:06AM: Sounds great, see you in a bit

You lock your phone and stand up to finish getting dressed, adding on a few more layers to your already warm attire. Your stomach churns with nerves, but you’re excited to see the city and maybe get to know the girls a little better. Plus, Ruth is begging you for photos. 

Speaking of Ruth…

You grab your phone and pull it from the charging cord, bringing up her contact for a FaceTime call. It rings out, and you press your eyeball directly to the front camera lens.

“Shit, what the hell, cyclops!” She yells as you pull away snickering. 

“Why is it so dark in your room?” you ask, realizing you hadn’t even thought about the time difference. 

“Because it’s two o’clock in the fuckin’ morning here, dimwit! I answered because you scared me. Are you okay?” she spouts off with her voice cracking from sleep. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine,” you laugh a little as she rubs her eyes in the light of her phone screen. “I’m in Amsterdam, thought I’d give you a rundown but, you need to go back to sleep,” you say. 

“Ugh, if I didn’t have to wake up in three hours for work I would disagree with you. Yeah, just text me. Actually no, that will take too long. Send voice memos. Or a video or something.”

You take a quick breath. “I have a lot to tell you, Ruthie.”

“Fuck, seriously? Damn it, just…send something I don’t care. I gotta know. Is it bad news? It’s good news, right?” she goes on.

You roll your eyes a bit as you place your fingers over your mouth. “It’s…a lot. Good and, well not the best. Go back to sleep. I love you.”

“Kay nighty night.” Her last words were said with her eyes closed, and you know for a fact she’s already drifted back off into her slumber. 

You plop onto your bed and scroll social media for a few minutes as you try to kill time, feeling your stomach start to growl and grumble against the mattress below you. 

Maybe you should you add a song? 

No… You’d be seeing Jake in the next little bit, and you were the last one to make contact. This is up to him, if he even wants to. You stand and grab up your long, heavy coat, making sure you have everything you need for the day before taking off to the lobby to grab a quick breakfast and wait on everyone else. 

—

JAKE POV

The music swirling through the steamy air comes to a close as you spin the handle on the shower faucet, the water slowly trickling to a stop. The song she sent last night has been stuck in your head since you hung up with Isla, and you have let it be the soundtrack to your life in the hours since. You spent nearly the entire shower thinking about Y/N, listening along to the track and letting it seep into your bones. You thought about her, and only her for the past few days now. How you left her last night, and how you have yet to speak to her since. Even the plane ride this morning was spent in silence. You knew you needed to answer her song, say something to explain yourself. You were going to, you just had to figure it out, and now that you had time to sit down and think about it, uninterrupted, you would. 

Get out, dry off, get dressed and answer her. You had a plan, and you were sticking to it. 

You step out of the large walk in shower, wrapping the fluffy white towel around your waist. You take a second to look at your surroundings, remembering how only a few years ago you were all bringing towels from home, feeling lucky enough to shower in a rundown Motel 6 bathroom in the middle of nowhere. Your life had changed drastically in a matter of years, and it wasn’t long into that success when you first met Isla. 

She was a vision of auburn hair as she swept through the bar that night, so light and so carefree. You could see why Lyla and Sam had befriended her, her personality very much the same as theirs. It wasn’t long after that night that the two of you started seeing each other, things quickly becoming serious. A year later she moved into your house. It was like she was always there, making the space her own and sharing her days with you. She was with you as the band really started to make moves, never once complaining about the late nights or the long stretches of tour, that is, until she did. 

Things started to change last summer. The once light and vibrant girl you fell in love with had become catty and accusatory, her light burning out and her desire to be something other than your girlfriend dwindling away to nothing. It became her, consumed her, and suddenly you became an accessory instead of a partner. Nothing seemed to satisfy her anymore, and the time you could give her was never enough. She reminded you of that, often, as if there was anything you could do to change it. You fought like cats and dogs on any given day, each argument always ending in a band-aid resolution that never got you anywhere. 

There were the big ones, the ones that would have you on the couch at Josh’s or in the guest room at Sam’s. The ones they didn’t ask about because they knew better, instead opening their homes and lending their liquor cabinet. The ones that you didn’t dare mention, even months after the fact, for fear of starting it all over again. Those fights started to get closer and closer together, until you found yourself almost needing to chip in for your brothers’ mortgage payments.

You knew it was done. You knew it was over, but the problem wasn’t that you couldn’t do it. No, the problem was that every time you would try, it wouldn’t stick. Listening to her tell you that your reasons were never good enough, or that it would be too hard to end things before you left. It was always before you left, and this time was no different. 

Your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter snaps you back to reality, watching as it slowly inches its way closer and closer to the edge. You snatch it up as your hair drips down your back, sliding your finger across the glass as you scoff at the name on the Caller ID.

“Hello, Josh.”

“Oh, so they didn’t invite you either? Assholes…” he grumbles under his breath. 

“Invite me where? Who?” you ask, making your way back into the room.

“Sam and Daniel, and the girls I guess…” he pauses, “Just checked their location to see if they wanted to get brunch and they fucked off into town without us. Not even an invite.” 

“Really?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to check your texts. “Shit, yeah, I didn’t get a text from them either. Though, I did tell them I was gonna catch a few more hours of sleep when we got here. Can’t you just go with Ty?” You groan, knowing you really planned to stay in your room all day and binge watch Criminal Minds.

“No. He went for a massage a little while ago, so now you have to go with me,” he says matter of factly. 

“Do I? I don’t think I do, actually.”

“No, you do, it’s in the rule book,” he answers, an air of playfulness in his voice. 

“The rule book…Don’t think I got one of those,” you joke, pulling on a pair of boxers. 

“Yeah, they give it to the head twin, you know, the first one out,” he laughs. “I’m in charge, the book says so, and I say brunch with a Mimosa. If you’re good I’ll even get you a Bloody Mary, my treat. Meet me downstairs in like fifteen,” he says, ending the call before you even have a chance to decline. Fucker, he knew you too well. 

You quickly dress yourself, checking your phone no less than five times just to see if maybe she had said something, but still there is silence. Your plan has officially gone to shit, no surprise there. You promised yourself you’d do it when you got back. No excuses. You huff out a sigh as you spray your cologne, grabbing your wallet and your phone and shoving them into your coat pocket. You make your way downstairs to meet Josh, finding him lounging in a wingback chair nearly double his size. 

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” you offer, watching him spring out of the chair, his white Nike’s scuffing loudly against the marble tiles. 

“Did you text Dean?” you ask, pushing open the glass doors. 

“Yeah, the place I want to go is just a block away, said to call him if we need him but keep our wits about us. Told him I would, but can’t speak for you since you don’t have any.”

You stop walking and start to turn around, definitely not in the headspace for his antics today. He stops too, and you feel him grab your arm and sling you back in the right direction. 

“Alright, alright, sheesh, no games today, got it,” he says, feigning guilt. 

You walk in silence the rest of the way, ducking into a little cafe with a heated patio. You felt like you hadn’t seen the sun in days and both of you quickly agree that the patio might be your only chance. 

Your eyes scan the menu, looking for any words that seem familiar to you. You’re about half way through it when Josh pulls your menu down and looks you in the eye. You know what he wants, and you know you have to tell him, but you need a drink first, at the very minimum. 

Saved by the bell your waiter comes to your table, taking your drink orders and rushing off before you could blink. 

As expected the grilling starts, and much to your dismay you are alone on the patio with no chance of anyone hearing the two of you bicker.

“Alright Jake, I let you sleep on it. Time to talk,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You rub your hand over your face, truly not knowing where to begin. You let out a sigh, and he seems to pick up on your inner turmoil. 

“Start wherever, but I would probably choose the beginning.”

You move your fingers to your lips, looking at him with challenging eyes “What is it exactly that you want to know, Josh? I mean–”

“Cut the shit, Jake. What is going on? I want everything, top to bottom, now,” he snaps, aggression present in his tone. 

“You’re mad for no fuckin’ reason, Josh!”

“No, I’m mad for great reason, Jake! You’re out here fucking around with our runner, two days into the tour mind you, while your girlfriend is back in Nashville living in your home!” he seethes, his fists clenched tightly on top of the white tablecloth. 

Your blood is boiling as he finishes his tirade. “Knock it the fuck off, you know damn good and well she is not my girlfriend anymore!”

“Do I? Do I, Jake? Last I heard, you were ‘easing off for a little bit’...” he replies, gesturing air quotes.

“Do you honestly think that I would have been living in your house for the last month if we were ‘just ‘easing off’? You retort, gesturing the same air quotes. 

Josh sits back in his chair a little, his aggression backing off just a little bit, enough for you to keep talking. “Explain.”

You blow out a breath of frustration, “She doesn’t get it, Josh. I can’t seem to get it through her head.”

“What?”

You bite your lips together before you answer, “I have tried to end things no less than five times in the last few months. There’s always some reason… Always something that…Fuck, I don’t know. It just never sticks. She won’t hear it,” you pause, “I was serious this time though, Josh. I told her point blank, I do not want to be together anymore. It was like I was speaking fucking Latin, she refused to hear me. We were up the entire night arguing, man. It’s… It’s just so done, and I’m the only one who can see it apparently.”

“So if she won’t accept it, you’re still technically together, though? She’s still in the house?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his beard. 

“Yeah, I mean, I guess? But also, No? The only way I could get the fuck out of that house in time to make it on the plane, was by agreeing to a ‘break’. But it’s not a break. I’m done, she knows I’m done. Told her she could still live in the house for a bit until she found her own place, but I told her, point blank, we needed to separate. No contact. You can see how that is going for her.”

“Does she know that you are…you know, seeing other people?” he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. 

“Am I supposed to care? We aren’t together!” you argue. 

“But you kind of are Jacob!” he spits, “Look, I’m not trying to like, take her side here or whatever, but if she is under the impression you two are only on a break, I highly doubt she would be okay with you seeing other people. You’ll be labeled a cheater and god knows what else if she catches wind.”

“This is the messiest shit I have ever been a part of. I swear to god…” you groan, rubbing your hand over your face. “I seriously never thought I would find myself going through something like this.”

His brows pinch together in confusion, “So why didn’t you just say straight up, I want to separate, please move out of my home?”

“I mean, I kind of did, I think. It’s so much more complicated when you’ve been together as long as we have. We’ve had the exact same argument hundreds of times, that’s no exaggeration. She lives with me, man… I can’t just expect her to move out overnight, ya know? Which is why I agreed to the break. To give her time to…Get her shit together, I guess. But she knows I’m out. She has to know.”

“But she is still calling and texting you daily?” he asks. 

“All fucking day everyday. I never reply, and she still continues. As if– as if nothing ever happened. Like I said, she is just not getting it,” you explain. “Every time I would come stay at your place, she would just… come up with some reason, or some excuse to get me to come home for a few nights. We would just bandaid the problem, until it just exploded again and I’d end up back at your house or at Sam’s. But I had to be careful at Sam’s because Lyla is her best fuckin’ friend. You’d think she would have caught the drift after so many nights of me crashing there that things weren’t good. I don’t know, I hate this shit, I have suffered long enough. I want out. And I fear that when we get home, I might have to take more drastic measures. And I don’t want that shit, either.”

“So things are a lot worse than you initially led on…” he states, shaking his head as he sips from his glass. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Shit’s embarrassing, man. It’s rocky as hell and I don’t know what to do. I obviously still care for her as a person, but I just can’t do this with her anymore. I thought this time and space away from each other would help me get my head right and find a way to sort this shit out, but it seems like it’s only gotten worse and even more complicated since even a month ago, before we ever even left,” you continue. 

“And now there’s Y/N…” he grimaces, truly starting to understand your predicament. “I mean, it’s really only been, what, two days?”

You let out a sigh and shake your head, “Yeah, yeah. But I can honestly say that I have felt more in the last two days for Y/N than I have felt for Isla in the last year.”

“Do you think maybe… She’s…just a distraction from your real feelings? Like a space filler type of thing while you figure out shit with Isla?” he asks, broaching the subject very gently. “To be fair, I don’t blame you at all, she’s really gorgeous and a lovely girl from the little I’ve talked to her.”

“I know it looks that way, trust me. I do. But, no… It’s something else. I know it's only been two days, but there is something there, and I have to explore it,” you admit. “Like I said, I feel things I haven’t felt in so long. Not just physical things, either. And yeah, I know she works for us, and shit, but I– It was about two minutes into that plane ride that I knew it didn’t matter. I had to get to know her.”

“Answer me this, do you still love Isla?” he asks, leaning his elbows onto the table as he gives you that horribly painful twin stare that you both can only give to one another. The kind that pulls the truth from you no matter how badly you might not want to admit it. 

“I mean, I love her as a person, but no, I haven’t been in love with her in some time,” you confess. 

“In your mind is there any chance of reconciliation?” 

Your mind flashes through a hundred scenes of screaming fights, thrown objects, tears and accusations, “No. Not anymore,” you pause, rubbing your lips. “A week ago if you asked me that, I might have said maybe. It would be so easy to fall back into the good routine we had, everything would be good again for a little while at least, but it would change and we would be back to where we are now. Endless fuckin’ cycle. I can’t do that my whole life, Josh. I don’t deserve that. I was so excited about this leg of tour, just because she wasn’t coming. I could be alone and not go to bed mad and arguing every night. Do you know how fucked that is? That is not how I should feel about the person I am supposedly in love with. I should want her here, and I just don’t.”

He nods his head in agreement, sucking his teeth with a hiss. 

“Two days with Y/N has proven to me just how unhappy I am in that relationship with Isla. How much I’m just…not in love with her anymore. It only confirms my decision,” you admit. 

“So she’s calling and stuff to try and keep you strung along… So that you’ll come home and pick right back up on this nasty cycle the two of you are in…” he questions. 

“Basically. Which is why I refuse to engage with it. She can text all she wants, I’m not answering her,” you snap. “Things aren’t black and white for her, they are very gray and for me they are stark white. I don’t know how to make it more clear.”

He drops his head and looks up at you as he leans on his elbows again, “Look, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I won’t say anything to anyone about last night, or whatever is going on with you and Y/N. I want you to be happy, and I can tell you haven’t been in a long time. I’m just really sorry I was such an ass. I wish you would have talked to me, you know, like we used to.”

“I know, I know. It’s my own pride that stopped me. I just, I feel like I'm on the precipice of being happy again, I just have to keep following it, even if it looks really bad from the outside,” you pause, “Also, you guys have to stop picking on her, she is innocent in all of this. She already thinks you guys don’t like her.”

“Oh, that's just not true, we all like her a lot, you have to tell her we don’t mean it,” he laughs, tilting his head to the side as he tosses back the rest of his mimosa. “Wait, does she know about Isla?”

“No, absolutely not,” you answer a little too quickly. 

“Are you… planning on telling her?” 

“Honestly, I haven’t really thought that far ahead, I mean, I know I need to. I wasn’t really planning on Isla blowing my phone up day and night. Guess I should have known better, huh?” you laugh, offering him a small smile. 

“You need to tell her, Jake. Don’t fuck it up before you even get things started,” he offers. 

“Don’t you know that’s my specialty?” you ask, sipping your spicy bloody mary. “I mean, last night is a whole other problem. When you saw us out there I had every intention of leaving that bar with her and taking her back to the hotel. It was all I could think about. But then you were out there with my phone and the shit with Isla. Fuck…I panicked. I just sent her back to the hotel. Left her out to dry like a fucking prick. Haven’t spoken to her since. She probably wants nothing to do with me at this point.”

“No, no I doubt that. She’s probably a little hurt, maybe a little confused, but I think she will come around. I saw the way she was looking at you last night,” he smiles. “But Jake, seriously. You have to tell her about Isla.”

“God, I know it just, why would I even be thinking about Isla when I’m with her? I swear it’s like none of it exists when we are with each other. Everything is easy.”

“Sounds like you found yourself someone special,” he smiles. 

“I think you’re right.”

—

HER POV

The morning had been spent walking up and down the streets of Amsterdam, getting lost and finding your way again over and over as you navigated the map app on Danny’s phone. To your surprise, Jake and Josh hadn’t joined you. Just you, Sam, Danny, Lyla and Mia. It felt a little strange at first, and you felt the fifth-wheel anxiety hit you hard as you trailed behind them, the two couples happy and holding hands as you all explored. But luckily, at the last second, Dean joined you on the excursion, insisting that five of you needed an escort. 

You’d taken the time to speak to Dean and get to know him a little; he’s a big burly man with cheeks that stay red and a beard and mustache that hide his mouth. He’s middle aged, and a man of few words, but you were determined to break through his exterior just a little bit, seeing as how he is one of your coworkers. 

Now, as you all are heading back to the hotel with your arms full of various shopping bags and leftover food cart goodies, the conversation you’d worked so hard to start up with Dean is flowing freely. The two of you converse about the job, about travel, about where each of you are from and how you got hooked up with these crazy four. He’s fairly easy to talk to, and you find yourself very calm in his presence. 

“I heard about what went down at the restaurant the other night, Ms. Y/N. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he admits as you watch Lyla and Mia pull the guys into a tiny boutique.

“Oh, no need to apologize,” you respond, a little surprised, “It was no big deal, really. I made a stupid mistake by going out alone that late, I learned my lesson. Just glad Jake was able to come help me out.”

“Still, it’s one of my responsibilities to make sure everyone is safe. Mr. Jacob made it very clear that you’re on that list, too.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and pushes a few buttons before speaking again. “I’m gonna get your number right now, so you never find yourself in a situation like that again.” You nod as you agree, knowing that you should have had his number saved a long time ago. You switch phones with him as you each enter your respective numbers, and he smiles as he locks his, pushing it back into the pocket of his coat. It hits you that Jake must have had a conversation with him.

“We’ve got more security coming, I’m sure you’ve heard. They should be here within the next few days. This is usually a one man job, but… I guess as the band gets more and more popular, these kinds of things just need to naturally grow along with them,” he explains, keeping his head on a swivel as he eyes each of them inside the store. “Turns into a team effort.”

You nod, pushing your windblown hair behind your ear before shoving your freezing hand back in your pocket. “I did hear about that. Bet it brings everyone peace of mind having more hands on deck, especially you,” you offer.

“Mmhm,” he replies, “Most definitely. I’ve met these guys before, think everybody will like them. Real straightforward outfit. I’m their head of security, but with the way this group operates, they’re probably gonna be calling most of the shots, if not all of them.” He sucks his teeth, and you can’t tell if he’s irked or maybe, a little bit relieved to have the help. 

“You gonna be alright with that?” you press, hoping you’re not stepping on his toes. 

He shrugs one shoulder, and you can see his eyes darting around behind his sunglasses. “I’m only one guy, Ms. Y/N.” His response is blunt, so you decide to leave it at that. 

You take a second to browse the boutique, meeting up again with Lyla and Mia and gushing over sweaters and dresses that none of you could ever afford, and for the first time in two days, you’d gone more than half an hour without thinking about Jake. As soon as the memory of him and what happened last night flows back into your brain, you almost double over with a strange anxiety. You pull out your phone again, checking to see if he has texted at all, or added anything to the playlist, but you’re met with nothing. Nothing.

“Let’s go get a drink or something!” Mia finally suggests to the group as you congregate in front of the store on the sidewalk, and everyone agrees. “Danny baby, pull up somewhere to go.”

“Let’s just take off walking again, we passed like fifty pubs on the way here,” he argues, bursting through the group and walking down the sidewalk again. The tension feels like it has dissipated for the most part; you have to admit that at first you were still a little worried that things might be a little strange between all of you. But as soon as you all got a couple of drinks in you, the anxiety melts away, and you find yourself laughing along and fitting right in with them. The girls are really cool, and Danny and Sam together keep the conversation going with ease.

An hour or so later, you’re unlocking your hotel door and stripping the layers of clothing off as you now have gotten a little sweaty from the heat mixed with the alcohol. The sun had popped out a little, only adding to your need for a giant bottle of water, and to relax across your bed. As you scroll social media and flick through TV channels in languages you can’t understand, you find your mind drifting back to Jake again. At this point, you know he isn’t going to text. He isn’t going to call, he isn’t going to add another song. If he was going to, he would have by now. You swallow down the realization, flipping to your back to push a pillow over your face. You think about calling Ruth, but at the same time, you hardly even feel like talking about it. 

Just as you're about to scream into the void, you hear a knock at your door. Who in the world? You stand up and adjust your clothing and hair, expecting Corri or Paul to be delivering you some information in person. You unlatch the deadbolt and swing the door open, finding none other than Jake leaning with one hand on your door frame, and the other gripping a single deep burgundy flower. 

“Hey…” he mumbles, biting his lip. 

“Hey, sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” you fumble over your words, not only because you hadn’t spoken all day, but because he looked so overwhelmingly delicious standing there effortlessly dripping sex in your doorway that you almost catch yourself drooling. Loose, dark slacks, a black button up revealing his chest, his hair freshly washed and still damp around the roots… His skin is still glowing from the heat of his shower, and you can smell his body wash mixed in with that damn cologne he apparently carries with him everywhere. Your eyes flick to the flower hanging loosely from his fingertips before meeting his eyes again.

“I know, I should have called first, ‘m sorry…” he stumbles, pulling his hand from his pocket and swiping it across his nose. 

“No no, it’s fine, um… did you need… you wanna come inside?” you weren’t quite sure what to offer at this point; he wouldn’t have shown up if he didn’t want to talk.

He stands up straight now, smoothing his hands over his shirt and then placing them both in his pockets. “No, actually, I came by to see if you would want to go on a walk with me,” he asks, a shyness in his tone that feels new to you. “And to bring you this.”

He extends his hand, offering you the dark red flower, multi petaled and fragrant. “Saw it earlier at a flower stand and I…I don’t know, I thought of you. Thought you should have it.”

You accept it from his fingers, bringing it to your nose to take in its earthy smell, “It’s beautiful, what is it?”

“It’s a Dahlia, I believe. The vendor said it was a Black Dahlia, but it looks dark red to me. I don’t know, I just thought it was pretty. Thought of you.” he smiles nervously. You stare at him as you twist the flower under your nose and think about his question. 

“So, a walk?” you reiterate, finding the idea both exhausting and appealing, seeing as how you had just gotten back from an extremely lengthy one with everyone else. “I really should stay in tonight, I… dunno…”

“Please?” he asks, squinting his eyes. “Just a short one, we don’t have to go far. I just– I saw something cool today, and I thought you might like to see it, too. Wanna show you…”

You huff a little as you lean your head on the edge of the open door. His eyes are pleading, and you can tell there’s more to his little plan than simply showing you something.

Maybe he wants to talk. Maybe he wants to explain things… sort it all out…

“Okay. We can go. But, I have to get dressed first,” you say, already dreading putting all those layers back on, but not feeling so bad about it because now you’ll be with him. You feel a little reluctant, the pissed-off feeling you’d had all day still lying heavily present in your mind. But, he’s making an effort, at least…

“Take your time. I’m just a floor up, 507,” he starts to back away, the tiniest satisfied grin forming on his face. His eyes travel up and down your body so fast you almost miss it. “Just come knock when you’re ready.” 

You close the door as he rounds the corner to the elevator, and you can’t help but feel that rush of nerves fly up your body again. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, he came to your door. With a flower. God, what a gentleman. You place the flower on the dresser, your heart pounding at the sweet gesture. You rush into the bathroom to freshen everything up and spruce your tangled hair, brushing some powder across your face and adding a little more mascara. You re-apply your favorite perfume to your wrists and neck, taking a little extra time to make sure you looked presentable in the full-length mirror on the wall. 

When you feel as if your appearance is as good as it's gonna get, you sit on your bed, wanting to make Jake wait for you just a little bit longer. You go ahead and pull up a facetime call with Ruth, waiting for the tone to ring out. 

The screen opens with Ruth holding up one finger, mouthing for you to hang on as she finishes out what looks to be a very annoying phone call with a client. She spins in her chair as she rolls her eyes, letting her head look at the ceiling as she uses her formal, professional voice to end the call.

“...You have an excellent day, ma’am. Mhm. Thank you, Buh-bye,” she presses a button on her phone and rips her headset off, fumbling for her airpods as she picks up her phone. “Oh my GOD today has been insane and I hate everything,” she complains as you watch the screen fill up with her face, and you hear the sound of her acrylic nails tapping all over her screen. You patiently wait, watching her loudly chew her gum, knowing that she has to clear away her notifications before she can even begin to have an uninterrupted conversation with you. “Okay I’m ready what the fuck has happened?!” 

You laugh, giving her the rundown of everything that happened since you last spoke, her facial expressions letting you know she is hanging on your every word. “...And now, he just showed up at my fucking door, and asked me on a date, I guess? After basically dry humping me in the bathroom then sending me home without another word,” you finish, whispering your words as if he could hear you. “I dunno, Ruth. Should I even go?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Yes you should go. Give him a chance to explain, at least. He wouldn’t have shown up to your door if he didn’t really want you to come, ya know?” she says, immediately noticing her word choice, and slyly smiling as she bounced her eyebrows.  

“Shut the fuck up. Ugh, yeah, you’re right. Does this outfit look okay?” you stand back and flip the camera around showing her yourself in the mirror. 

“Slayyyyyyyy that jacket is hot, where on earth did you even get it?!” she rolls her eyes. 

“From you. For my birthday. When you found out I was going to a colder climate,” you laugh. “Okay, I'm gonna go, I guess. I’ll text you later.”

“Live updates, please. I want to know the way this man ticks,” she teases.

“Shut up. Bye.” You end the call and grab your purse, making sure your room key is in your bag. You also make sure to grab the jacket Jake sent you home in last night, not able to bear another second staring at it draped across the back of the chair. 

—

“Thought you might want this back,” you say when Jake opens the door, taking the coat from your outstretched hand.

He smirks as he takes it, tossing it behind him to land on some unknown surface. “Looks better on you, but it’s one of only three jackets I brought with me.” You both laugh a little as you make your way down the hall and to the elevator. The whole ride down is silent, with both of you standing at opposite sides, more or less feeling no shame in drinking the other in. His arms and ankles are crossed as the elevator descends, and you can feel his eyes boring into you. 

“You look really nice today,” he offers as you exit the lobby and head back out into the freezing cold air. 

“Thank you,” you reply shyly, feeling the blush creep to your cheeks. “So do you…” you wanted to gush about how perfectly his hair is sitting around his face, how his shirt and jacket are hanging across his shoulders, how poised he just always seems to be without even trying… but you don’t. You hope to god you don’t run into any of his brothers, or anyone that you work with; coming up with an explanation why the two of you are out alone together again is something you truly don’t feel like dealing with right now. “So where are we going?”

“It’s called The Jordaan. It’s a really old neighborhood, with a canal going through the center. Bunch of little shops and stuff. Did you guys walk this way this morning?” you notice the lilt in his voice. 

You shake your head. “No, we went the opposite way,” you answer. It’s quiet for just a minute more as you pass by the crowds and other people on the streets. “Why didn’t you and Josh come along?”

He takes a quick breath. “Eh, we didn’t really receive an invite, honestly,” he laughs, stroking his fingers over his mustache. “Had to be Lyla or Mia’s idea to go, if I had to guess.” He was right, but you still felt bad. “But it was okay, me and Josh went to eat and got to… talk a little without the interruption of the other two. Kinda rare these days,” he smiles, and his knuckles brush across yours just barely. The light touch sends your bloodstream to a raging fire, and you have to stifle down the pull to grab his hand altogether. 

The sun is peeking through the heavy cloud cover of the evening, and you find yourself staring at the way Jake’s pulled his sunglasses to sit on top of his head, letting the gleam of the sunlight bounce into his mocha colored irises. He looks you in the eye each and every time he speaks, and commands your complete attention away from everything else around you. You’re pulled into him, letting your bodies barely touch and move together as you walk along. This attraction feels different than the heated, blurry, intense pull you had to one another last night. This feels innocent, even though you both know that it’s anything but. 

You turn a corner as you come along to the long line of homes and buildings, multicolored and old in their exteriors but, still holding just the right amount of charm to be an attraction. You catch yourself looking above to see the craftsmanship of them. “Wow…” you exclaim quietly as you peer up at the finely detailed architecture, staring in awe at the shape they are still in. You pull your phone from your pocket and start to take photos, zooming in on the details and making a mental note to send them straight to Ruth later. 

You walk up onto a little footbridge lined with parked bikes and people stopped to take photos. Suddenly Jake is behind you, barely resting his chin on your shoulder. “Gimme your phone, let me take your picture,” he murmurs in your ear. 

“Oh no, that’s okay…” Before the words can even escape your lips, he’s snatched your phone and started backing up, glancing behind him and back to your phone every few seconds. 

“You’re really good at taking my phone away and doing whatever you want with it, you know!” you yell at him in aggravation. 

He motions his free hand for you to scoot sideways, and then again for you to stop where you are. He snaps a few, turning the phone on its side to get every angle he can. You stand a bit awkwardly, hating that people are having to stop when they notice they are walking in line of the photo. Finally he finishes and rushes back over to you. “They look good! See?” he says, handing your phone back and swiping through them with you. “Now you’ll have record.”

You walk past a few secondhand shops and stores, and suddenly, something in one of the windows catches your eye. “Oh my god, look at that!” you squeal, pointing to a glimmering red dress sitting perfectly on a mannequin. It isn’t like any dress you’d seen before; it looks vintage, bright cherry red velvet with sewn-in sequins weaved throughout. It’s tight, but not too tight, and short and lacking fabric in all the right places. 

“Damn, you should go try it on!” Jake exclaims, obviously agreeing with your surprise at how pretty it is. 

“Nah, I shouldn’t…” you say, walking away from the window. 

“No, you should, actually. That dress is hot, Y/N,” he says, elbowing you in the ribs. “And I think you’d make it a hundred times hotter.”

You scoff. “Be quiet, no I would not.”

“Prove me wrong, then,” he challenges with a smirk, opening the door to the shop, and holding his hand out to invite you inside. 

You step inside, and are immediately greeted by a man dressed in a formal tuxedo. He notices that you are not local during his greeting, and switches to rough English.

“Eyeballing the red number, are you madam? Give me one second, I’ll grab it off the mannequin for you,” you and Jake lock eyes as the man flits away, straight for the window. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation and gives you a grin so adorable you almost melt into putty right there in the store. 

“Here you are ma’am, please, be careful, very old dress,” he explains, handing you the dress on a hanger and opening a curtain for you to go behind. 

“Go ahead,” Jake mouths, pushing you into the small dressing room. 

You stand almost naked in front of the mirror as you slip the soft, tight fabric over your thighs, your stomach, and finally over your shoulders. Jake was right, it fits you perfectly. The velvet material snatches your waist and bust, and cuts right above your knee. Its sequins shimmer in the overhead light, but aren’t so overwhelming that it looks showy. It’s something you could dress up, or dress down. You reach behind you and pull the zipper up only halfway. Of course.

You take a deep breath and pull the curtain back, finding Jake to have taken a seat on a plush maroon ottoman. His jaw drops as you walk toward him, and yet again, you feel the heat rise in your face. You continue walking toward him, turning at the last second with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side. “Finish doing me up?” you say, immediately realizing that could be taken in a way you didn’t really mean. But also kind of mean, if you’re being honest. 

You hear him swallow and he stands, and feel his warm hand slowly grip the zipper and pull it up, his other hand resting gently on the back of your hip, this thumb barely squeezing at the muscle. He takes his time, moving the zipper at the slowest pace imaginable. “Everything alright back there?” you whisper over your shoulder, hearing your own voice tremble. 

You hear the air push from his nose as he leans in a little closer. “Just taking my time… might be the only time I get to touch you this way…”

Your eyelids flutter closed at his words. You lick your lips, trying to calm your second heartbeat. “What makes you think this will be the only time?”

He finishes the zip, spinning you to turn and face him. He shrugs one shoulder. “Just don’t wanna get my hopes up,” he growls. “Take that as a compliment…if you wear that out in public, I wouldn’t stand a chance against the hordes of guys that would be following you around.”

You scoff at him, and the absolute absurdity of his statement. He has no idea how pretty he is, does he?

“Shh. That’s a lie,” you say as you turn back and motion for him to unzip you. He does, this time with a little more haste. You make your way back into the dressing room and switch back into your clothing, hanging the beautiful specimen back on the hanger the man had provided you with. 

“What? You’re not getting it?!” Jake stands as you make your way back toward the employee.

“No, Jake! I can’t buy that! It’s too–”

“Perfect? Because you looked… I–I can’t even explain… You have to get it, Y/N,” he argues.

You hand the dress back to the man in the suit. “No. I wouldn’t even have anywhere to wear something like that…” you go on, internally screaming at how badly you really would like to have it. 

“Let me get it for you, then,” Jake says. “It’s not even that expensive…”

“NO!” you squeal. “I mean, no thank you. Please, Jake. It’s completely fine,” you say as you begin to walk toward the exit. You simply could not let him buy this for you. No. Huh-uh. Absolutely the hell not. 

He reluctantly follows you out of the store, still playfully going on and on about how you just made a huge mistake. You turn and face him, your face only inches from his. You grab both of his hands in yours, snickering a little at the surprised look on his face. “Jake, I appreciate the compliments, but I’d really like to get on with our date, now.”

JAKE POV

Her words send a shockwave through your system. “Date? So it’s a date now?” you ask, your hands cupped in hers as he looks you in the eyes. 

She turns and begins walking again, and you have to physically tell yourself to move your legs and follow along. “You came to my door, asked me to go on a walk because you wanted to show me a certain specific special thing… now we’re exploring and talking and trying on dresses, I’d qualify this as a date,” she turns and gives you a teasing look of intrigue. “Just missing the food part, but I think it would still count.” 

A smile comes to your lips as you realize she’s right. “You hungry?” you ask, finally catching up with her. 

“No, I’m just kidding. Let’s go down to the riverside,” she points a little ways away, seeing that there is a sidewalk that runs alongside the water. 

You stuff your hands in your pockets as you trudge along, the two of you taking in the scenery and the water beside you. The air is still blowing cold, but neither of you seem to mind. “So if we’re gonna qualify this as a date, maybe we should get to know each other a little better,” you suggest, earning a scoff from her. 

“Seems a little backwards seeing as how we kinda already–”

“I know, I know,” you laugh. “Um, let’s see. Did you play any sports in school?” you ask. 

“I played volleyball all four years, golfed with my dad on the weekends sometimes when he was around… Other than that, not really,” she explains.

“Shit, don’t tell Danny you like golf,” you go on. “He’ll capture you in a week-long conversation and then ask you to go play a round in every country we visit,” you laugh. 

“Ummm, what’s your favorite holiday? And you can’t pick Christmas…” she says, pushing her pointer finger into your shoulder. 

“Hmm, so, I think it’s a tie between the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving, because in July we’re always out of the country somewhere really beautiful, or we’re all at home blowing shit up together. I’m always really happy that time of year. And then Thanksgiving, because I will eat the fuck out of mashed potatoes any chance I get,” you say. 

She laughs again, the sounds of her voice making your insides warm. “Your answer was better than mine!” 

“Let’s see… What's your best friend’s name?” Noticing that she hasn’t really mentioned anyone.

“My best friend’s name is Ruth, we’ve been friends since elementary school. She’s… a complete idiot,” she laughs. “We still talk pretty much daily about anything and everything,” she explains. “Don’t have any secrets.”

“Oh so, she’s… getting the rundown of your whole European adventure in real time, isn't she?” you ask, wondering if she had been giving her a play by play of the whirlwind last few days you'd shared together. 

She purses her lips and squints her eyes as her hand brushes past yours. “Guess you could say that…”

“Damn!” you laugh, feeling embarrassed. “Don’t tell me you included our bar bathroom escapade…”

Suddenly she’s tripping over her words. “I mean... No! I told her a little but like, not details or anything ya know, but she…I–” 

“So she knows we almost hooked up but thankfully stopped just in time that my brother didn’t catch things getting too out of hand…” you say confidently, wanting to see the blush rush her cheeks again. 

She stops, standing stiff in her place. “Okay, Jake. Caught me. Sue me, shit.”

You continue walking, pulling her along by the hand. “I’m kidding, I don’t care. I hope to meet her one day.”

She looks at you from the side of her eye, “I hope you do, too. Okay, who’s your best friend?”

“You really want me to answer that?” You’re surprised she can’t already tell. “I’ve got three built right in. All three pains in my ass but I love ‘em.”

“How sweet, Jake. Man, you do have a heart under there, somewhere!” she teases. 

“Of course I do baby, I’m actually a sweetheart, didn’t you know?” you respond in a very piratical voice. “Alright, favorite music genre. This is the big one, answer carefully…”

“Ahhh, well…” she looks to the ground, truly contemplating her answer. “You already know the Alt-J stuff you added was way out of my normal choice, I actually listen to um, a lot of harder stuff, I guess you could say. Some metal, hard rock, also older country, some psych stuff. It runs the whole gambit,” she laughs, seeming like she was shy to admit it all. 

“Wow,” you say. “So like, almost the exact opposite of what we’re into.”

“Kind of, I mean it probably overlaps… I love the stuff you’ve added to the list. And I’m sure there’s a few classic dad rock songs you like, don’t lie…” she smiles. 

“Ehhh,” you argue, “Maybe a few…” you feel a sudden slight disappointment in the fact that the two of you probably will not be able to talk music much. But, that’s okay…

“Me and my dad used to go to rock shows a lot when I was a kid. I’ve seen all the country greats a few times a piece. Just something about that sound, you know? Reminds me of home, it’s very nostalgic… I’m sorry, I’m rambling…” she says, brushing the hair from her face as you find yourself enraptured in her words. 

“No, no… it’s okay, ramble on…”

Light bulb. 

You sneakily pull your phone from your pocket, adding that very song to the playlist, hoping she won't notice right off the bat, but hoping she will understand soon that you would listen to her ramble all day long. As she continues to talk, you can’t help but notice all the ways that she is so different from Isla. Like night and day. She listens to you when you speak, she doesn’t ever come at you with condescending words unless she’s being playful, she is sure of herself, and confident…and gives you that feeling down deep in your gut that tells you she’s something special. Though you’ve only known her a few days, it’s already obvious that she offers every single thing that Isla doesn’t, never has, and most likely never will. Instead of the uneasy, walking on eggshells feeling that you have everytime you’re with Isla, you get the confident, self-assured and joyful feeling in Y/N’s presence. And something is telling you to hold onto it. 

Speaking of Isla… you really need to tell Y/N about her. It’s only right. It isn’t fair to her that she doesn’t have a clue, you wouldn’t have wanted to be left in the dark if the roles were reversed. You swallow, opening your mouth to start the conversation without having a clue where to even begin. But your thoughts are interrupted by Y/N’s sweet voice bringing you back down to earth again. 

“I know you bargained for a short walk, but what if we went up there to that little pub and see what they have to offer?” she asks, smiling a toothy grin.

Maybe the time isn’t now…

“Lead the way, love.”

—

HER POV

Warm. Everything is just so warm. Your body, your face, his smile. Warm. The room is a dull hum of noise around you, your world growing still as he sits in front of you. You watch him in wonder as he talks about music and his passions, your face propped up on your fist. You know you must look positively smitten, and to be honest you kind of are. The two of you are giggling back and forth, even though nothing is really that funny. But that was the beauty of it. You can tell you are blinking slowly and try to reign it in as the nearly half a liter of beer swirls through your bloodstream. You can’t help but smile at him while he talks, his eyes locked on yours as a smile stretches across his own face. 

You wonder how he is even able to hold a conversation right now, your brain reduced to mush as you continue to sip on your beer. He’s happy, you can tell, a dimple has appeared in his cheek and hasn’t left in nearly an hour. You can’t stop looking at it, at him. Everything about him. The twinkle lights over head have cast a perfect yellow glow on his tan skin, just as the sun starts to dip down below the river the two of you walked here from.

“You still with me, beautiful?” he asks, his knuckles brushing against yours. 

“I’m here, but barely.” you laugh, “Why aren’t you feeling the alcohol yet?” you tease, taking a rather large gulp of your beer.  You know he definitely has a higher tolerance than you do, but you can tell he is a little more smiley than usual. You place the large glass tankard back on the table as he stares at you, his eyes wide and sparkling. 

“What?” you ask, feeling a bit bashful in your drunken state. 

“You’re just…so– you’re just really pretty and it makes me feel, I don’t know, shy I guess,” he answers truthfully, biting his lips together nervously. 

You feel your chest burst into flames, the heat radiating up your face to your already flushed cheeks. 

“I like it when you blush,” he breathes, which of course makes you blush harder. “Like it best when it’s because of me.”

You feel all of your nervousness and anxiety melting away as he looks at you, and suddenly with the help of the beer, you feel brave enough to ask the question that has been on your mind all day. 

“Jake?”

He nods his head ever so slightly, letting his fingertips drift across your knuckles. 

“Why didn’t you answer? My song, how come you didn’t say anything?” you ask, swallowing down your last bit of nervousness. 

He drops his head a little, grabbing your hand in his, letting his thumb skate across your skin. “I searched and searched for a song that I could respond with last night. One that would articulate what I wanted to say, but I just…I couldn’t find one. I felt like absolute shit after you left, Y/N. Really, I did. I fell asleep with that damn song on replay until my alarm went off this morning. It got in my head, and that’s when I decided I wanted to go on this walk today. Make it up to you.”

You stare at him for just a second, letting a smile slowly creep to your lips. He notices and you watch him as he visibly relaxes. He was nervous, too. 

His eyes are locked on yours, both of you saying a thousand things with zero words. You let his words sink in, storing away each one until your heart feels a little bit lighter. 

“Well, you better think of a good one tonight,” you tease, rubbing your thumb against his. 

His phone buzzes on the table top, his eyes flashing down to it, then to you in panic. 

“It’s fine,” you nod, gesturing for him to grab it. “I don’t mind, really.”

He picks it up and clears his throat, the loss of his hand from yours stings a little but you know he will do it again. 

“From Josh,” he starts reading the message out loud, “Where are you? I knocked on your door and you didn’t answer.”

He smiles and laughs as his thumbs type back a response. 

“Oh, another one,” he pauses, “We’re meeting up for dinner, just the guys, in an hour.”

His face drops a little, his eyes looking across the table to you. He locks his phone and sets it back on the table, his hand seeking yours out again. 

“We should probably get going if you’re gonna make it back in time,” you offer, taking another sip of your beer. 

He lets out a painful sigh, “I don’t really want to. I want to stay out…with you. I see them all the time.”

“No, no, no, you’re in Amsterdam with your brothers. They want to see you. Don’t change your plans around for me,” you insist. 

He looks conflicted, you can tell he really does want to stay here with you, but he also knows he needs to meet up with them. 

“Well, what about you? What will you do?” he asks, tracing his index finger around your hand. 

You smile and shake your head, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll probably just go back to my room and do whatever it was I was going to do before you knocked on the door.”

He smiles and nods, licking his lips before speaking again, “If you’re sure, this is supposed to be me making it up to you for leaving you last night, now I seem to be doing it again.”

“Wanna know a secret?” 

He raises his eyebrows in question, ready to hear your answer.

“I forgave you for that about two minutes into our walk,” you smile, squeezing his hand in yours. 

—

He walks with you back to the hotel, his hand never leaving yours for a second. His grip is firm and warm, everything you ever dreamed of. You talk about the shops and the sights, and he tries again to convince you to buy that dress, bartering that he was going to have to go back and buy it himself if you refused. 

As you step up to the hotel door you pause, turning and looking at him in the glow of the streetlights. “You don’t have to walk me all the way up, I think I can find it.” you tease. 

“Alright, well, um, can I text you?” he asks, his tone reverting back to that of a nervous fifteen year old boy. 

You feel the butterflies taking flight in your stomach, flapping their wings so hard you feel like you might take off with them. “Yeah, you can text me whenever you want to.”

A huge smile spreads across his face, “Yeah, alright, cool. I’ll um, I’ll text you then.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you answer, watching him stifle back his smile as he steps back a bit, bringing your hand to his lips. He places a soft and gentle kiss to the top of your hand, his cold lips barely grazing your skin, and sending a jolt of electricity through you. 

“Won’t be long,” he smiles, stepping away and turning to head back down the street. 

—

JAKE POV

You follow the walk route to the pin that Josh had dropped, finding yourself at a tiny pub down a back alleyway of a street. The place is crowded and warm, ambient lights with the damp smell of cigars lingering in the air. You mosy through the crowd, hoping that no one recognizes you and stops you for a drunken conversation or autograph. 

Luckily it doesn’t happen, and you find Danny, Sam, and Josh tucked away at a high-top table in the corner. “There he is! Took you long enough!” Danny yells over the loud crowd, the first one of them to spot you. 

The other two turn to face you, pulling your stool out for you to take. “Your beer is probably warm, now…sorry,” Sam says, pointing to yet another giant mug of beer, just the same as the one you’d just finished off. 

“Fuck, thanks…” you say, tiptoeing to hop up onto the high stool. You simply can’t help the shit-eating grin that’s plastered across your face, even with all the maximum effort you have left in you. You take a large sip, finding the beer to still be fairly cold. 

“Where have you been already today? You look flushed and far too jovial…” Josh presses, rubbing his hands together with his elbows resting on the table. 

“Cold outside,” you say, shooting him a look. 

The bullshitting and argumentative discussions commence as everyone obviously begins to feel their alcohol, and you take the distracted time out to text Y/N, letting her know you made it safely. 

You

9:18PM: I’m here, but already wishing I never left

You attach a quick photo of your giant beer, and include the eye-rolling emoji.

Y/N

9:20PM: omg 😂 good luck choking another one down

You

9:21PM: Ye have little faith 🍺 

A minute later you receive a photo of her room service sprawled out across the bed in front of her, chicken fingers and fries and some type of dipping sauce. You smirk at how cute she probably looks in whatever outfit she chose to get comfy in, and wonder what she looks like. You notice the TV in the background, and recognize the movie that she has playing. 

You

9:24PM: Looks tasty

9:24PM: Damn, is that Wedding Crashers?

Y/N

9:25PM: Yes, I fucking love this movie

You run your hand over your face. 

You

9:26PM: That sucks, I quite literally can’t stand that movie 

Y/N:

9:26PM: 😱😱😱😱😱😱

9:26PM: You’re insane, this is one of my favorite movies of all time! Why do you hate it!

You

9:27PM: Dunno, not a sucker for cheap comedy I suppose

You’re interrupted by Sam’s snapping fingers in your face. “Hellooooo, Jake, you with us? Tell Isla to leave you the fuck alone, it’s guys’ night!” 

You feel your eyes widen at his comment and glance at Josh, who is mirroring your exact expression behind his folded hands. 

“Uh, sorry, sorry yeah.” You put your phone down on the table and try your best to be present with them, getting caught up in your normal absurd conversation. Your phone continues to light up and buzz on the table. 

“You gonna get that?” Josh asks slowly and quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. You ignore him, finishing off the last bit of your beer that went down exceptionally quicker than you thought it would. Everyone is sufficiently intoxicated, and you have to admit, you’re having a really great time letting loose. The drinks are flowing, and the air is high-spirited all the way around. Danny is taking funny videos of Sam and Josh as they try their hand at some type of trick with a coin and a bottle cap, so you take the second to check your phone again. But what you see brings your serotonin level down just a notch. 

Isla

10:12PM: Hey, what’s up?

10:27PM: Why aren’t you answering me babe :(

10:29PM: I miss youuuuu, you never called back last night

10:33PM: Saw Danny’s close friends story, glad to see you having fun ignoring my texts! 👋🏼

10:37PM: Can you accept my location request

10:42PM: I can see your phone in front of you Jake

You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet oh…my…god, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. 

“What’s up?” Josh asks, and you turn your phone for him to see. His eyes instantly widen as he reads. 

“This…is the shit I’ve dealt with for the last three years. I can’t—” you cut yourself off, feeling your jaw clenching with aggravation. 

Josh settles back in his chair. “Fuck, I had no idea…”

“What, what is it?” Sam and Danny basically simultaneously ask, seeing the disdain falling over the both of you at the same time. 

“Nothin’, just a sad video,” Josh lies. 

You decide to let Isla’s antics roll off your shoulders; you’re having too good of a night to let her whining bring you down. Things with Y/N are starting to heat up, and you find your tipsy self teetering on the edge of risk. You pull her texts up again, finding that she had responded a while ago.

Y/N

9:30PM: You’re crazy, this movie is fuckin hilarious

You decide to change up the game a bit, adding a song that reflects exactly how you’re feeling right now. You scroll through your library and land on it, bringing up the option to add it to your shared playlist. It’s perfect, ‘In the Mood For You’ by The Record Company. 

She responds with a text a minute later, a string of five or six laughing emojis. You’re then met with a song addition on her end, ‘Are You Sure?’ by Willie Nelson. 

Holy shit holy shit. You feel your stomach get warm and your head starts to swim at the thought of where this could go, where you want it to go. You take a deep breath as the excitement builds in your system, and you can physically feel your body getting warm. You want to scream. Your eyes begin to cross a little as your thumbs hover over the screen, flicking around as you decide what to do. 

The next thing you know, Sam is setting another beer in front of your face, this one thankfully much, much smaller than the other one you had just finished off. Mother fucker...Gonna be very drunk.

You decide to skip out on a text, keeping this little game the two of you have going. You pull up the song search, adding ‘No One Else’ by Weezer. Perfect. 

Seconds later, you receive a text. 

Y/N

10:56PM: I’ll think about it…….

You feel your cheeks grow pink. 

Just then another comes through from Isla. 

Isla

10:57PM: Ignoring me isn’t going to fix anything, Jacob.

You scoff, shaking your head. You turn the phone to Josh again. 

“God, block her fucking number. I’m so serious,” his voice raises a little, laced with a protective tone. 

You ignore it, flipping back over to your texts with Y/N, suddenly feeling emboldened. 

You

10:59PM: Think about what, exactly? 

You lick your lips as you set the phone down, glancing around to see no one paying attention to you all up in your phone again. A minute later, you receive a photo. You click the message and watch as the attachment comes to life. 

It’s a selfie of Y/N sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a barely-there black silk pajama set, with the object of the photo obviously the empty side of the bed behind her. 

Y/N

11:01PM: You, here.

Son of a fucking bitch, she is gonna be the death of you. You pull your phone up so no one can see the picture, and you take a second to stare at her soft skin in the silk material, her hair a little messy but lying perfectly. She’s smiling just a little, and the dim light is bouncing off her features in all the right areas. 

You

11:03PM: Absolutely stunning

11:03PM: Are YOU sure?

Your heart is positively racing, watching as her text bubble pops up. 

Y/N

11:04PM: Only if you want to…

As the breath hitches in your throat as you’ve quite literally forgotten how to breathe, you take a second more, starting in on the beer Sam had provided. You lock your phone, trying to make up your mind of how to answer. What to do, what to do…

You finally decide to reply with a bold text. 

You

11:06PM: I think I can make that happen…😉

11:06PM: We shouldn’t be much longer

You get dragged back into conversation with the guys, and fifteen or so minutes later, everyone is gearing up to leave. You glance down at your phone a few minutes later, seeing that she hasn’t responded. Weird. 

Everyone stands to leave, and the alcohol hits you in the face. Yeah, pretty fairly intoxicated. You exit the building, feeling someone standing behind, close by. You turn to see Dean bringing up the rear of the group. “Whoa, where did you come from you scary motherfucker?” you tease, earning a big, warm smile from him.

“Been sitting at the bar all evening, Mr. Jake,” he responds, pointing for you to catch up with the rest of them. 

You rest a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re really good at your job, Dean. I never even knew you were there, should have come and had a drink with us.” You feel your words slurring a bit. Just then, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket incessantly. 

“I wet my whistle with a shot of Jameson as soon as we got there, water the rest of the night,” he replies without looking at you. You laugh and step to the side a bit, pulling your phone out to see Isla calling. Fucking son of a bitch. You slide to answer it. 

“What, Isla? Fuck!” your tone is a bit more harsh than you had expected, but warranted nonetheless. 

Then, all you can hear on the other line is a rush of screams and yells, her voice loud and her words cramming as she lets you know how she feels. You pull the phone away from your ear, holding it there until you find a chance to speak again. 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, can you–”

Her screams continue, and you realize exactly how this is going to go. How it’s gone hundreds of times before. She’s not gonna let you speak. And honestly, you’re too intoxicated to talk, anyway. You set it to speakerphone as Josh falls back to walk with you. You shake your head as you allow your twin to listen to her incessant rambling. “You hear this shit?” you mumble. The two of you listen for a second more before you realize you can’t do it anymore. 

“Isla, I’m hanging the phone up. Call me when you can have a mature conversation. Bye.” You don’t even wait for her to retaliate before pressing the big red button. In a huff, you bring up your text thread to see if Y/N has responded. Like the gods of divine intervention decided to reign down their bad luck upon you, you find that you had in fact sent those last two risky texts, to Isla.

“FUCK!” you yell, stopping in your tracks, hitting your palm to your forehead. “Fuck fuck fuck!” How could you have been so stupid?! Of course she had a reason to call and yell at you…

Your fingers move to Y/N’s thread, and you see that you were the one who had left her on read. You’re in the lobby of the hotel now, and everyone is dispersing to head to the elevator or down the halls to their respective rooms. You snap away for a second to tell them goodnight, before deciding to take the stairs up to your room. You needed a second, and to work off some of your drunkenness. 

You finally pop into your room, feeling completely idiotic for accidentally sending the right text to the wrong number. You splash some cold water on your face, hoping it will bring you back to earth a little bit, but finding it to have only made your splotchy face and tinted cheeks worse. You brush your teeth and take a piss, finally settling on the edge of your bed to think. 

Fuck it, you finally decide, bringing up your texts with Y/N once more. 

You

11:47PM: I think I can make that happen…

Surprisingly, she responds within the minute.

Y/N

11:47PM: Hey. Thought you had found someone else to sneak away to the bathroom…

Your nerves flush up all over again. We’re still in the clear.

You

11:48PM: Don’t be crazy fledgling. I’m finding you in 5 minutes. 

HER POV

Five minutes? Five minutes!  You stare at the screen for a few seconds before your brain starts to work again, giving you a mile long to-do list before he knocks on the door. 

“What!? What! What does it say?! Hello! Why do you look panicked!?” Ruth asks from the other end of the phone. 

“Oh my god, he’s coming to my room. Right now, he’s on his way right this second, holy shit I have to– I have to clean up! I need to brush my teeth, brush my hair? Shit, I can’t be wearing this! Oh my god, shit I do not have enough time!” you screech, tearing across the hotel room to clean up the best that you can. 

“Focus on yourself first! He doesn’t care about your messy room! Put on some deodorant for the love of god! Did you shave your legs today?! Wait, did you end up bringing that little black sleep set thing we found?” she asks, trying to help you prioritize. 

“Yes! I’m wearing it stupid! Can you not see me?!” you shout, the clocking continuing to tick by. 

“Fuck off, it’s blurry! Okay just go brush your teeth, brush your hair, deodorant, then let's work on the room. Hurry up!” 

You run into the bathroom, applying deodorant as quickly as possible and checking your legs for stubble. “I shaved this morning, but I think it’s fine.”

“Did you shave…everything?!” she asks, just as panicked as you are. 

“Yeah, thank god!” you answer, wetting your toothbrush. 

“Okay, game plan, keep brushing, just listen. He’s into you, you’re into him. He’s been flirting with you all night. He wants you babe, and if it were me? Well, I’d do it. I know what you’re gonna say, ‘Ruthie, I can’t give it up on the first date’, blah blah blah, I don’t care, fuck the police. He’s hot, you’re hot, you’re in Europe, and if you don’t sex that man tonight, you might not get the chance to again.” she lectures, giving you a stern look.

You spit your toothpaste into the sink, wiping your mouth and grabbing for your hair brush. You run it quickly through your hair as she continues. “God, I have got to know what this man is like in the bedroom. I am so living through you right now. I expect every detail first thing in the morning. Not noon, not three, morning.”

You grab your perfume from the bathroom counter and hold it up to the camera, “Should I, or too much?”

“Yes, you should, obviously! But don’t overdo it!” she yelps back. You spray the perfume onto your wrists, careful not to spray too much. 

“Alright, I feel better, but do you think I should change? Honestly, I feel so…”

“What? Hot, sexy? Drop dead gorgeous? Didn’t have a problem with it when you sent that picture earlier, what's different now?” she asks. 

“Well, nothing I guess, I just… He will see me in person. You can see my nipples!” you admit.

“I think he’s gonna see a lot more than your nipples tonight babe, that’s just the appetizer.” she laughs, crunching the ice from her drink. 

“Oh my god you are so gross, okay, fine. I just need to clean up the room and little and–”

A knock at the door renders you both silent. You mouth the words ‘oh my god’, as she laughs silently. 

“I’ll call you later,” you whisper, quickly ending the call and tossing your phone onto the dresser. You take a deep breath and smooth your hands over the black satin tank top, pushing your boobs up, but letting out a defeated sigh when they drop back into place. She better be right about this. 

You blow out a calming breath as you make your way towards the door, twisting the handle and pulling the door open. Leaning against your door frame you find Jake, cheeks flushed and somehow looking even better than he did this afternoon. He’s in the same clothes, and his hair is windblown, but there is something different about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you file it away for later. 

You purse your lips in a smirk, “You said five minutes.”

He smiles and nods, “I did, but I had to make a pit stop.”

“What for?” you ask, a playful tone to your voice. 

You watch his eyes flick down to take in your appearance, his chest growing as he sucks in a deep breath, “Oh, you know…had to get something,” he pauses, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Did you make up your mind?”

You bite your lips together as you open the door a little wider, “Mmm, I thought about it…”

He steps forward, his foot on the threshold, “And?”

You instantly reach for his shirt, pulling him into the room and crashing your lips into his. He immediately takes control, leading you backwards and kicking the door shut with his foot. His hands have found your waist, sliding beneath the silky fabric of your top and gripping into your skin. He backs you into a wall, letting his warm lips drag across your jaw as his hands continue to explore the soft skin of your stomach. It’s not long before his lips are back on yours, the taste of alcohol still lingering on his tongue. 

His knee slides between your legs, parting them just enough to be able to press himself closer to you. Your arms lace around his neck, your hands tangling into his soft hair, as his hips press into yours. The sound of your lips on his is wet and desperate, the two of you devouring each other where you stand. His tongue slides into your mouth in search of yours, the two of you quickly picking up where you last left off. 

You can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket as it presses against your leg, an incessant buzz that drags your attention away from his lips. 

“You wanna get that?” you ask, whispering against his lips. 

“No,” he growls, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Probably the groupchat, I’m tired of them interrupting.”

He pulls the two of you from against the wall, walking you backwards towards the bed as his lips pepper kisses up and down your jaw. He tosses you down towards the bed, the fluffy white sheets pooling around your body. His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you, his cheeks still red from what you thought was the cold, but now know is the alcohol flowing through his system. His chest is heaving as he stares down at you, taking in every single inch of your body. You can feel the primal need radiating from him, and you remind yourself to thank Ruth for not letting your change into something else. 

You can hear that his phone is still buzzing, and with a huff of aggravation he pulls it from his pocket and taps on the screen a few times before throwing it onto the nightstand. He drops to his hands, hovering over you as his shirt hangs from his body. You keep your eyes locked on his as you unbutton the buttons, letting your hands run up his stomach and over his chest. 

His lips drop back down to yours, this kiss a little slower and a little more intentional, you can feel that he wants you, and you hope he can tell that you want him just the same. He hums against your lips, the evidence of his need starting to show through in his voice. You let your hands push the fabric of his shirt over his shoulders and he assists by tossing it to the floor. His necklaces hang between the two of you, the pendants cold as they rest against your chest. 

His hand comes up to swipe at the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it delicately over your shoulder while letting his eyes meet yours. You nod your head just enough to give him permission, letting him repeat the action with the other side. 

He brings his palm to rest on the side of your neck, his fingertips brushing lightly against your skin before he drags his palm down your body, pushing the soft black fabric down your chest. 

“This what you wanted?” he hums, dragging his fingertips over your sternum. “When you sent me that little picture? Wanted to get me all worked up thinking about you in this? Thinking about you, out of this?”

Your nipples harden just at the sound of his voice, deep and rich, a gentle slur from the alcohol. He is pure sex as you look up from beneath him.

“Might’ve been…” you answer, biting your bottom lip nervously. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, pulling your lip with his thumb. “Own it. Take what you want.”

A smirk is planted on his lips, his hair hanging around his face as he looks down at you. You decide to do exactly what he says, reaching down to the hem of your top and pulling it up and over your shoulders. His eyes drop down to your chest, now completely exposed to him, the lust almost visible in his dark eyes.

“Shit…” he breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.

He slots his knee between your legs, crawling forward a little bit more and dropping down to his elbows over top of you. His lips connect with your chest, sucking a long wet kiss into the roundness of the skin. You squirm beneath him, the feeling of his lips on your body more than you can handle in the moment. He drags his lips down your body, stopping as he meets the hem of your shorts. 

“Smell so fucking good…You’re so soft, everywhere… Have half a mind to have you like this,” he pants, pressing his lips to your skin again.

“Come back,” you plead, needing to feel his lips on yours.

He moves quickly, grabbing your face with his hand and pressing his lips to yours. You reach between the two of you, your hand unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning the button on his pants. He groans as your hand slips into the waistband of his boxers, gently grazing the stubbly trimmed hair at his base. His eyes flick open to meet yours, almost as if he is surprised you’re doing what he told you to do. You stare at him, waiting for him to tell you to stop, but he doesn’t. You have the answer you need. 

You press further, reaching for him, but surprisingly finding him still mostly soft. His eyes widen a little, and his head drops just a touch. You can tell he knows, and it’s caught him a little off guard. 

You decide to take matters into your own hands, smiling back at him, “Roll over.”

He looks up, a small grin on his lips as he rolls to his back, landing in the empty spot you photographed earlier. You move to place yourself between his legs, reaching for the top of his pants and pulling them and his boxers down over his legs. He kicks them off and you toss them to the floor, taking in the sight of him completely naked in front of you. His chest is heaving as he looks at you, a grin on his shiny pink lips as he watches you slide your hands up his thighs. 

“I know I already told you this, but you’re so fucking pretty I can’t seem to think straight.”

You can feel your cheeks grow hot, the way he’s looking at you and the words falling from his mouth have your heart pumping harder than it has in years. 

“And god when you blush like that, fuck…”

You crawl forward a bit more, positioning yourself over him to straddle his waist. You lower yourself to a sitting position, letting him guide your hips to rest your body weight where he wants it. His hands grip into your hips, sliding under the silky fabric still covering your lower half. His thumbs rub circles into your hip bones, your hips rolling on their own accord against his. A hum leaves his chest as his eyes flutter closed, clearly enjoying his view and the feeling of you beneath his hands. 

You reach for his hand, grabbing his wrist and guiding his palm to rest over your chest, letting his fingers grip into the soft fullness beneath it. He palms at your breast as you continue to rock your hips over his. His mouth opens just a bit as he focuses on you, slowly bringing his other hand to rest over your other breast. His grip is firm and warm, not too rough. A hum of pleasure leaves his lips every few seconds as he drinks in the moment, but still yet he is considerably soft beneath you. 

You lean forward into his hands, letting your lips brush against his neck, your tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up the column of his neck. His grip tightens and his hips buck upward into yours. You’ve got him where you want him now. 

You pull away from him, moving backwards on the bed until you are hovering right above his dick. Your eyes flick to his, dark and boiling over with want as you lower your face closer to him. You grab him in your hand, feeling that he is still not truly hard enough to do anything with, but you still had a few more ideas yet. 

“Can I?” you breathe, whispering the words against his soft pink tip. You bat your eyes at him, “Please?”

You watch his chest rising and falling quickly, his heart rate sky high as he watches you. “Been dreaming about it.”

You let your tongue glide over his tip, warm against your mouth as your eyes stay locked on his. You wrap your fist around his base and let your mouth sink down over him, running your tongue up the underside of his shaft. You can’t help but wonder why he isn’t rock hard at this point, his body giving you every single cue that he wants you, apart from this one. 

His hand swipes the hair away from your face as you take him, feeling him growing just the slightest bit harder as his tip grazes the back of your mouth. You pull off of him just enough to speak, letting your wet lips brush his tip. “That okay?”

“Yes, fuck yes, I just–”

You grip your hand into his thigh as you shush him, “Shhh, I know, I’m not done.”

You take him down again, bobbing your head back and forth at a steady pace as his breathing starts to pick up. His skin is clammy under your hands and his chest is heaving as he watches you take him as far as you can. 

Your brain starts to wander as you taste him, his natural musky smell translating to the taste of his skin. Maybe he drank too much? Or maybe you’re just bad at this. He should be hard by now. Maybe he doesn’t really want you like you thought. 

A groan leaves his lips and his hips buck up, forcing him further down your throat. “Fuck…”

Okay, that's definitely not it. He has been falling all over you for days, it has to be something else. 

His hand grips into your hair as his hips buck upwards again. “Feel so fuckin’ good baby, shit. Perfect little mouth, knew it would be.” 

You let your eyes flick up to his, staring at him as his tongue rests between his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but for some reason, it’s just not working. His brow furrows in anger, and you watch as his demeanor shifts, frustration taking him over. 

You pull off him, his dick harder than when you started, but still fairly soft. You don’t know how hard he normally is, but it has to be more than this. Right?

“Jake, we don’t have t–”

He shakes his head, “Mmm, you know what? Come up here beautiful, come lay down for me.”

You do as he says, part of you sad to think that maybe you weren’t doing it for him, but you push the thoughts aside, swapping places with him as he adjusts the pillow beneath your head. He bends to kiss you, pulling away for just a second before pressing his lips to yours again much quicker. 

“So fucking pretty, all of you. But especially that mouth,” he smirks. 

He hooks his fingers into your shorts, pulling them and your panties off in one swift movement. You are bare before him, his eyes widening as he takes you in, finally getting a reaction from his dick. He fists it up and down a few times as he looks at you, “Can I touch you, baby?”

You nod quickly, letting him spread your legs apart with his free hand. A growl leaves his chest as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “So gorgeous, shit…”

His thumb swipes up through your wetness, circling your clit a few times causing you to squirm beneath him. 

“Jake…” you gasp. 

His eyes meet yours, “Yeah? You like that? You’re so beyond wet, sweetheart.”

Your hips twist and turn beneath his touch, every angle proving to be more stimulating than the last. You whine, a string of curses and muffled versions of his name falling from your lips. 

“You…” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “Are everything I thought you would be. More, even.”

“Jake, please, I– I need–”

He pulls away from you quickly, his hand still fisting his cock as he reaches for his wallet on the floor. He pulls a condom from the pocket inside, tearing the foil packet open as he kneels back onto the bed. 

“Let me!” you urge, stopping his wrist, “I mean, please, can I do it?”

His eyes flick up to yours in surprise, “Yeah baby, you can do it. You can do whatever you want, swear to god.”

You grab the latex between your fingers, pinching the tip and rolling it over his cock. It's hard enough now that putting the condom on is fairly easy, but you’re positive he was even harder than this in the bathroom last night. You roll it to his base, letting your hand drift back up and over his chest before circling it around his neck. His hands grip your waist as his lips meet yours again, his tongue circling with yours as he moves you back towards the pillows, gently lowering your body to the bed. “Want you so bad, Y/N.”

“So have me,” you breathe, barely letting your lips leave his. 

You welcome him between your legs, feeling his hand reach down to fist his base, gliding himself through your wetness. In only a matter of a minute his dick is softer than it was, and both of you know it, but neither of you are willing to acknowledge it. 

His phone starts to buzz on the nightstand, both of you looking towards it. He doesn’t pay it any mind, letting it buzz on the wooden table until it stops. 

“Look at me, baby, don’t mind that,” he demands. 

You feel him press his tip to your entrance, his eyes fixed on yours. He furrows his brow as he presses his hips forward, but you feel nothing. Your eyes flick down between the two of you, finding that he can’t seem to get hard and stay hard enough to get it in. You feel a pang of hurt run through your chest, almost like rejection, but somehow a little worse. 

“Jake, are you not hard en–”

“Just give me a second, I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he growls, his attention turning to the still buzzing phone on the nightstand. 

“I mean, I can give you head again if you think–”

“No, Y/N, I just– I just need a second, I’ll be fine,” he says. You can hear the anger in his voice, not at you, but at himself. 

“Is it me?” you ask, running your fingers up his arm that is next to your head. 

“Fuck no. You are everything I want, wet as fuck and gorgeous, no, it’s not you. I want you, I really fucking want you,” he says, stroking himself a few more times. “Alright…”

He repositions himself at your entrance, and this time you can feel him, he’s harder now, enough to slide into you, but still it’s only just enough to slip inside. 

Even half hard he is bigger than the last guy you were with, the stretch as he presses into you making that abundantly clear.

“Oh Jesus Christ, you are so tight,” he pants, his dick hardening a little at the tight fit. 

You slide your hands around his waist, pulling him down a little further as he starts to move his hips, “Oh goddamn…”

His phone buzzes twice on the nightstand as he starts to pump into you at a steady pace, but you ignore it, letting the overwhelming feeling of him moving inside of you take precedence in your brain. 

He groans through closed lips, his brow furrowed in concentration as he slides in and out of you. He rolls his hips as he thrusts into you, a whine leaving your lips as your back arches. 

“Motherfuck, you are–” he stops, regaining his composure, “Tightest fuckin’ pussy.”

Your hands grip into his sides as he picks up speed, his hips slamming into yours as both of you start to lose yourselves in the moment. Finally things felt normal, things felt good, way too good. You wanted this, you needed this, and fuck if he wasn’t checking every box you’d ever had. 

He cups your cheek in his hand, dusting his thumb over your swollen lips just as you part them to suck it in. You watch his eyes roll back in his head as he starts to pant, and you can tell he is dangerously close to his finish. 

You start to speak, ready to change positions but as you open your lips to release his finger, his phone rings, buzzing quickly across the table as the sound plays through the speakers. 

“God fucking damnit!” he growls, “What the fuck!”

“Take it Jake, it’s fine, just– answer and they’ll leave you alone.” you urge, looking to the black phone skittering across the table. 

“No, fuck no.” he snaps, his hips emphasizing his point. “I’m busy,”

The buzzing stops, and he looks back to you, letting his hand drift down to your chest. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, letting his lips meet yours. His kiss is wet, and desperate, his hips starting to falter as they move in messy strokes above you. 

You can tell he needs to cum, his body racing closer and closer with every half hard stroke of his dick. You can also tell he is fighting it, his face is red, and his hairline sweaty. You know it will be seconds, if that, until he is tumbling into his release.

His eyes flick to yours in panic, an almost apologetic look on his face as he breathes, “Baby, I’m, fuck—”

As if right on cue, his phone starts to buzz, the ringtone blaring through the speakers as his hips stutter, slamming into you again as he looks at his phone on the table. His head snaps back to you, sucking in a deep breath of panic as his hips stop, his cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with a guttural moan. 

The fucked out look that takes over his face is like nothing you’ve ever seen. Reminiscent of a Renaissance painting, the features of his face twist into such a blissful expression that he almost looks like he’s in pain. He’s beautiful, there is absolutely no doubt about that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just came, way, way too soon. 

You are in shock as you lay beneath his panting body, feeling him grow soft inside you once again. He pushes up to his hands nearly instantly, his face riddled with remorse as he realizes what exactly just happened. “Y/N–”

His phone buzzes again, for what has to be the sixtieth time in the last five minutes, a snap of anger washing through you. “Are you going to fucking get that?”

He mumbles a curse under his breath as he pulls out of you, the condom full as he looks at it in shame. He covers himself with his hand as he snatches the phone off of the nightstand and makes his way to the bathroom. You can feel the embarrassment swirling through the air as you hear the sink in the bathroom turn on. 

You grab the sheet at your feet and pull it up over your naked, unsatisfied body, trying to wrap your head around what exactly just happened. You try to catch your breath, the sound of your breathing filling the room but quickly drowned out by Jake’s phone ringing. This time though, he answers. 

“Hello?!” he shouts, his anger apparent. “Yeah I’ve seen him fucking calling, I have been busy goddamnit!” 

You hear the sink turn off and the toilet flush, followed by the sound of his footsteps walking back into the room. “Yes, I will call him, Jesus Christ, don’t ever blow my shit up like that again,” he snaps, ending the call. He pauses as he walks, a hand towel in his grip as he taps his phone screen.

You hear another call ringing out, but this time he's the one doing the calling. He walks over to you with the phone on speaker phone, a look of sadness on his face as he slowly approaches the edge of the bed. He sits next to you and reaches for your hand just as the person answers. 

“Hey, man, been trying to call you.” the man's voice says, a tone of urgency present.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I was caught up for a second. What’s up, what’s going on?” Jake answers, rubbing his hand along your arm. 

He turns to look at you mouthing ‘guitar tech’ as he hands you the damp towel. You make quick work of it, wiping yourself off but knowing you’ll be taking a shower as soon as possible. You throw it across the room as he snickers, waiting for Johnny to answer.

“Listen man, I’m at the venue, trucks just arrived and we are doing load out. One of the stage left Marshall cabinets split in transit. Wiring harness is fucked. Amp is…the amp is not looking good man.”

You see Jake stiffen, “What?” 

“Huge gash in the backside, must have fallen or something, I tried to fuck with the wiring as best as I could, it’s not getting any signal right now, man.”

“Holy fuck,” he groans, standing quickly from the bed and gripping into his hair. “No signal? Did you try a direct line in?”

You cut your eyes wondering how he managed to sober up so quickly in the last three minutes.

“Yeah, even DI there’s no signal, just static. Powers’ on, but she’s DOA. Gonna have Mark take a look at it too, but I don’t have high hopes,” he continues. 

“Is there anything we can do? How the fuck are we supposed to get a replacement amp and cabinet by tomorrow?” Jake asks, his voice laced with panic. 

“We can make some calls, I know a guy with some leads. What are the chances of you coming down here to take a look at it? Maybe I’m completely missing something, man. Hoping it's a quick fix. Need your signature for the insurance waiver, too.”

“Can it wait until morning?” he asks, a pained look on his face. 

“Probably shouldn’t, especially if we are looking for a replacement locally.”

He turns to look at you, and you can tell he is conflicted. You bite your lips together and nod your head. This is his job after all. 

He runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh, “Yeah, yeah, I um– I can be there in a bit. I just need to wrap something up here, and I’ll be there. See if you can get in touch with Hamstead, I’m sure they have a loaner we could use for tomorrow at the very least.”

“Will do man, hey sorry about this, I don’t know what happened, maybe it wasn't strapped down or–”

Jake is quick to cut him off, “It’s fine, not your fault. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yep, see you then,” he says, ending the call. 

He tosses his phone on the nightstand before dropping his head into his hands. “This night has been…”

He turns to look at you, letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what the fuck it’s been, fuck, I just…”

You can tell he is flustered, he can hardly form a sentence. “Listen, I get it. It’s fine, just go do what you need to do. It’s okay, really.”

He nods as he stands up from the bed, walking around the front to start grabbing for his clothes. He doesn’t say much as he dresses, and he will hardly look at you. You don’t really know why, but you can imagine he is feeling a little bad about himself and his performance at the moment. You still haven't let yourself process what exactly happened with the two of you just now, but you will, soon. 

He re-buttons his shirt, pulling his hair up into a hair tie as he lets out a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry about this. I really am, this is the absolute very last thing I want to do right now, especially after… that. But I have to, and I don’t want you to think that I want to because–”

“Jake. I get it. Just go, it’s fine,” you say calmly, hoping he will believe you. 

He grabs his phone and his wallet and shoves them into his pants pocket, kneeling on the bed towards you. He leans in to kiss you, but his lips don’t land on yours, instead missing your mouth completely. A new rush of secondhand embarrassment washes through you, and right now you think him leaving is probably the best thing he could do. 

He curses himself as he stands up shaking his head in defeat as he swallows back his embarrassment. He walks towards the door with a hand in his pocket, turning to you just before stepping out,  “I’ll uh…I’ll text you, I guess, I don’t know, fuck. Have a good night, Y/N.”

The door slams behind him and suddenly the room is silent. No heavy breathing, no pitchy moans, and no ringing phones. Just pure silence. 

You stare at the wall for a full five minutes, the muted TV flashing colors against your skin. You can’t conjure a thought. Not a single one. Nothing other than what the fuck was that?

You want to call Ruth. You want to call her and tell her everything, but you also don’t even know what you would say. Something like ‘Hey Ruth, just had the worst two minutes of sex of my life? Oh did I mention he was barely hard? And I couldn’t get him hard? And that his phone rang the entire time? And that he came in two minutes? And I didn’t finish at all? And then he had to leave as soon as he finished? And now I’m sitting alone and naked in my hotel room?’  Yeah, you needed to sit on this one for a minute. Your eyes catch sight of the flower laying on the dresser, now looking a little bit limp and lifeless but still beautiful no less. You feel a pang run through your chest, tearing your eyes away from it so as not to taint that moment earlier with this one. 

You rip the sheets from your body and make your way to the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it will go before stepping inside. You let the steaming hot water clear your mind and ease your tense muscles, washing away the scent of his cologne that is lingering on your skin. 

You wrack your brain for answers, though you can hardly come up with anything that makes sense. There’s just no fucking way he is actually terrible in bed. We had so much chemistry, the electricity between us was nearly electrocuting you. He felt so good last night. We were so in sync last night. This had to be a fluke, right? You’ve seen him with his guitar on stage, where was that?!

You lather your skin in your body wash, rinsing away the remaining evidence that this night ever happened. After the best afternoon with him, why was he so off tonight? He barely seemed like himself. Maybe he really did have too much to drink. 

You tried to put yourself in his shoes. If the roles were reversed and it was your phone blowing up like that, you probably would have been a little distant too. But that didn’t explain why he couldn’t stay hard. That was a mystery to you, and you really hoped to god it was the beers and not you. You know he was so much harder last night, you know he was. You felt it. So what happened between last night and tonight? 

Something. You knew that much. 

You turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel, letting your mind wander with possibilities, trying to convince yourself that what he showed you tonight was not who he really was. You sat back down on the bed you just shared with him, thinking back to that few seconds where things were good. And it was good, it felt good, he felt good. There was no denying those few seconds. But the rest of it, well, that was still up for debate. 

You grab your phone and tap the screen, the display reading 1:02AM. There are no texts from Jake, though you didn’t really know what you expected him to say.

From the little you know about him, when he left here tonight the confidence he naturally exudes was gone, not even in the same building. You knew he would reach out, but only when he was ready and knew what to say. But until then… 

You toss your phone on the bed next to you, quickly changing into a clean pair of pajamas and curling back up into the bed. You lay there staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how you are going to handle things tomorrow. You would be with him the entire day, and you didn’t want to make him feel worse than he likely already did. 

You go back and forth with yourself until you land on something sturdy: You won’t say anything, you won’t do anything. You’ll act completely normal. The same as you have for the last few days. You decide to tear this page from the book and move forward. This never happened. 

Deep down you know there was something holding him back from being fully present with you tonight, but what that is you’ve yet to discover.

—

JAKE POV

The early morning finds you facedown on your bed, still fully clothed, one boot kicked off into the floor, the other still completely on your foot. The sun is far from being up, and you’re thankful that you still have a few hours before its rays beat in through your window. The bustle of the awakening city is loud on the streets below you, and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to stay in this exact position for the rest of the day. For the rest of your life, actually. Maybe, if you bury yourself under these blankets and pillows, everyone will forget about you. Isla will forget about you. Y/N will forget about you, about everything, about last night. It will be like it never even happened. It will be like the most amazing buildup to what could have been a night of pure electricity didn’t take an absolute nose dive into one of the most embarrassing things to have ever happened to you. You’d take tripping on stage a million times over this. Pure. Humiliation.

Yeah, right here, in this bed. Under the pillows. They can’t find you here. 

What the fuck even happened?! Whiskey dick was an understatement. It didn’t even begin to explain what you…experienced. Unable to perform for the most beautiful new thing that has happened to you. Everything was perfect, she was perfect… her confidence was enamoring, her head was off the charts good, and fuck, for the few seconds you had things actually going, it was pure ecstasy. She was soaked for you. Her sounds, her face… fuck. It all came flooding back to your brain, even the way she smelled still stuck in your mind. She wanted you, just as badly as you wanted her. Just the thought of it had you standing at attention all over again, at full force this time, though. And you’d let her down. 

You sit up and roll yourself over. “Where the fuck were you last night, huh? Let me the fuck down!” you audibly yell at what was happening in your still-belted jeans. You force your face back into the comforter, realizing now that a horrific hangover is on the horizon. Your head is busting in two already, not like you already didn’t feel like shit on a boot.

Staying here, under the pillows until sound check. Right here. Not moving. Hiding. 

You know that’s not realistic, though. You contemplate texting her, but what the fuck do you even say? You couldn’t even satisfy her, and ended up satisfying yourself, way too fucking soon. What had you lasted, two minutes? Three max? Like a fucking 16 year old kid. God, what a fucking tool. She probably thinks you’re a horrible lay. You know you’re better than that. 

You groan hard into the sheets below you, feeling the metallic taste of a hangover in your mouth. You need a gallon each of water, orange juice, and black coffee, stat. And probably like, nine pieces of the butteriest toast you can find. And probably a shower, yes, a shower. And a straightjacket, for how absolutely insane you feel. 

Damnit, the amp. Luckily, the rental was in the works of being en route last night, so you feel just a little bit better about that, at least. It won’t be your baby, but it will sound okay. 

You roll and find your almost-dead phone underneath your chest, blinking your eyes as the screen brightens. Nothing. Not even Isla. Good. No one wants you. You can stay here, hidden in your burrow, until you absolutely can’t anymore. 

You’ve gotta say something, anything to her, to start this process that you want to stay millions of miles away from. But the first step to healing is admission, so you go ahead and take it. 

You

5:31AM: I’m sorry. 

You watch as the message is delivered to her, seeing the string of foreplay texts and her photo still sitting in the chat. She’s so gorgeous, how could you have fucked up this badly? Your first chance to show her how you feel and you fumble this hard?

Though there were many factors playing into it, at the very deepest darkest part of your mind, you know why. You know exactly why. Guilt isn’t an emotion you let yourself feel very often, and this morning, you find yourself grasped in the wrath of it. The double-edged sword of your current situation with two separate women is proving to be more intertwined than you’d anticipated, or even foresaw. What you want is clear, though. And you’re determined to get a second chance, no matter how rocky and uncomfortable the road to that chance may be. 

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#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fic #jake kiszka #jacob thomas kiszka #greta van fluff #gvf smut #gvf fic #gvf series #jake gvf #gvf #jake kiszka smut #jacob kiszka #gretavangroupie #jtk x reader #gretavanfluff #gretavanmoon #greta van angst #greta van fleet fic #jake kiskza x reader #Jacob Kiszka #josh kiszka #Daniel wagner #sam kiszka #the ripe and the ruin

[joshsindigostreak]

I need to be locked up in a padded cell

(X)

#josh kiszka #greta van fleet #josh gvf

[aflame4goinghome]

Come Down Soon

j.m.k x reader

(part two to Head First)

a/n: Hey everyone! It's been a while. Inspiration for the closure of this short story came to me recently, so I've finally been able to write it and get it to you all! I'm really proud of how their little story turned out. I hope you like it.

word count: 10.5k

warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT! MINORS DNI!!! swearing, drinking, smoking, angst, arguing, fluff; SMUT: kissing, sexually explicit language, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, slight biting, tiny bit of breeding kink if you squint, soft dom josh <3

part one

“ Something here

I’m biding time ‘til it disappears

Oh, it’ll come down soon ”

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APRIL 2024 – 5 YEARS LATER

You wake up to your alarm wailing in your ear, shaking you awake. Fuck, you think to yourself. I really need to stop going out on weeknights. You roll out of bed and quickly get ready in the bathroom, coming to terms with the fact that you’ll be late for work. Luckily for you, your boss is your father, so you don’t have anything to worry about. 

You’re still in Frankenmuth, working for your dad at the music store, your life staying as consistent as ever. But it was comfortable, and comfortable is exactly what you need. A few years back, you got a business degree with hopes of taking over the business for your dad after he retires. Your younger brother wasn’t as into music as the two of you are, only playing guitar every once in a while. He moved to Chicago three years ago to go to Northwestern to study economics, leaving you here to take over the family business one day. That’s still a solid five or ten years away, but you’re prepared. You already practically run the place, working from open to close every single day. 

This didn’t bother you. You were perfectly content with that being your life. You loved music and you loved teaching it, so you were happy, truly. But every once in a while, your mind would wander to the ideas of what could have been, and you get stuck there. You hated when your mind would wander there, to him. It sent a sickening feeling throughout your entire body and you would be stuck, frozen in time. Frozen in the past.

Sitting back in your chair behind the counter in the empty music store, you start to doze off. On a random Tuesday morning like this, hardly anyone ever comes in. It’s way busier in the early evenings and on the weekends, but someone had to be here. You usually have another worker come in around 3 pm, but it’s only you until then on weekdays. 

You feel your head start to fall heavily to the side and you’re so lost in your exhaustion that you don’t hear the chime of the bells on the door jingle. You don’t hear the silent figure approaching the counter, watching you curiously as you breathe slow, long breaths through your slightly open mouth. But you’re suddenly jolted awake when the mystery figure taps the little bell on the counter and your head swiftly rushes upright, making you hit it harshly against the wall behind you. 

“Fuck!” you exclaim, raising your hand to rub soft circles against the back of your head where you hit it against the hard plaster. As you start to recalibrate yourself, your eyes finally fall onto the figure in front of you who was responsible for the bell. “Sam? Is that you?” The tall man in front of you smiles widely, his dimples appearing at the ends of his mustache. 

“In the flesh,” Sam smiles confidently, leaning his long arms onto the counter. “Hi, Smalls. Long time, no see.” You roll your eyes at the old nickname, standing up from your chair to round the counter and greet him.

“You really don’t have to call me that anymore, Sam. We’re grown now, you know,” you joke, bringing him in for a tight hug. He chuckles above you, patting your back lightly.

“You’ll always be Smalls to me, no matter how old we are,” he teases, rustling your hair on the top of your head playfully. 

“You’re an idiot. What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you guys a little too big now for this town?” you ask, releasing him from the hug and leaning your back against the counter. He slots his hands in his front pockets with a laugh as he starts to answer. 

“We’re really not all that,” he says modestly, looking down at his feet before looking back up to your gaze.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sam. You guys are selling out arenas left and right… you’ve big-timed us for sure,” you answer with a playful scoff. He just shrugs, avoiding talking too much about their success.

“Whatever. We’re just here to visit Mom and Dad for a while before this next leg of the tour, that’s all. It’s a long one, so they wanted to see us.” You nod, fiddling with your fingers.

“So, you’re all here? All three of you?” you ask apprehensively, slightly afraid of what you know the answer will be. He rubs his hand on the back of his neck nervously, then nods.

“Yeah, we’re all here. Jake and Josh are back at home, they sent me out to go to the grocery store for a few things. Clearly, I got sidetracked…” he says, chuckling at the end. You smile and laugh with him– Sam could never complete an errand without getting distracted somehow. 

“I see… well, it’s good to see you. You’ve really grown up, I’m proud of you,” you say with a smile, crossing your arms as you lean back against the counter. 

“Thanks, Smalls… It’s really nice to see you, I’ve missed you,” he says earnestly, walking a bit closer to you. “We all have.” That sentence cut straight through to the heart. God, you didn’t think this would be so hard. 

You’d successfully managed to evade interaction with them each time they’ve come into town over the years, but now you couldn’t avoid it. It’s been four years since you’d last spoken to Sam Kiszka, or any of them for that matter. You didn’t cut them all off intentionally, but it just happened in the aftermath. 

“Right, I… I’ve missed you too,” you say hesitantly, backing away to go back behind the counter. 

“Y/N, I think my parents would really like it if you came by for dinner tonight. It would be nice, just like old times,” he says, looking down at you hopefully. Great, exactly what you’ve been dreading.

“Oh, I really don’t know, Sam. I don’t think Josh would…” you trail off, looking down at your feet.

“Look, I’m not entirely sure about what happened between you two, but please. Please come to dinner. It’s been years, I’m sure he’s over it,” he pleads. You’re not too sure about that, but they don’t know the full story. “I promise, Smalls. Just think about it. My number is still the same as before, just send me a text after your shift ends and let me know what you decide, okay?” 

Shit. He never makes it easy to say no to him. The puppy-dog eyes still work on his 25-year-old face, the same as they did when he was 18. You were no match for it, and he knew it, too.

“Okay. Okay, fine, I’ll think about it,” you concede, exhaustion coating your voice. “But no promises, alright?” His face lights up with an eager nod. He reaches over the counter and pokes your nose with his pointer finger, eliciting a giggle out of you as he smiles then turns around toward the door.

“Okay, Smalls, I’ve got some shopping to do. See you later!” he yells opening the door and walking out of the store. 

God, this was going to be a long day. It wasn’t at all like how you expected it to be. You went through the rest of your shift worrying about the worst-case scenario of how dinner could go down tonight. Before you know it, it’s already 3 o’clock, and your dad walks through the doors. 

“Dad? What are you doing here? I thought Parker was supposed to be coming in tonight,” you ask as he approaches the counter. He shrugs, heading to the office behind the counter and setting his stuff down on his desk. 

“He called out sick, so I just decided to come in for him,” he says casually, slipping a sweatshirt on over his head. You nod, your mind trailing back to your current predicament. 

“Did you know that the Kiszkas were in town?” you ask, looking over at him. His eyes shift guiltily as he approaches you. 

“Yeah… I caught Kelly outside on the porch the other day and he told me about it. I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you about it. Didn’t want to upset you,” he admits, rubbing your shoulder softly. 

“It’s okay, Dad. I’m fine,” you say, lying through your teeth. If anyone understood how you felt about your fallout with Josh, it was your dad. He was there for you through it all, as you tried to bury your feelings by working endless shifts at the shop. He says it never gave him any bias, but you know that secretly, he felt differently about Josh since that day. No matter what, he was always on your side. 

“Sam came in here this morning. Asked me to come to dinner at their house after work,” you admit, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. 

“Oh. Are you going to go?” he asks apprehensively. You look up at him and see the concern in his eyes. 

“Uh, yeah. I think I will. Sam really wants me to and… it’s been four years. We’ll have to get over it some time. Might as well be now,” you say, trying to seem as sure as possible, despite how unsure you actually felt. Your dad raised you to be strong, and you wanted to be that person for him. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” he says, offering a reassuring smile. You nod with a smile.

“Why don’t you just head out now, hon? I can handle the rest of the night. You just go home and get ready for dinner,” he offers, not giving you any time to protest before he walks off to do inventory in the back of the store. You shrug to yourself and decide to just go home, grabbing your tote from the office and heading out to the front of the store to your car parked in the front space. 

The store is only a ten-minute drive from home, so you’re back before you know it. You pull into the driveway then gather your things, heading inside. You walk in to find your mother in the kitchen, cooking some dinner.

“Hi baby, how was work?” she asks, turning around to face you. 

“It was alright, pretty slow,” you say, stopping in the kitchen to talk for a moment. 

“I talked to your brother today, he should be coming home in a few weeks after finals are over,” she says, stirring the food in the pot as she talks. 

“Oh, that’s cool. That should be nice,” you remark, your mind wandering, making you unable to entertain the conversation much more, so she changes the subject. 

“Are you hungry? I’m making some pasta with vodka sauce right now if you want some,” she asks. You weren’t sure how you’d explain this situation to her, but you have to. 

“Actually… I’m going to the Kiszkas for dinner,” you answer quietly. She stops stirring in her pot and looks at you, her eyes drooping just like your dad’s did not long ago. 

“Oh! That’s quite a surprise,” she answers honestly, her face feigning excitement but her eyes give her away. 

“Mom, it’s fine. I’m fine. Seriously, it’s no big deal,” you answer, trying to convince yourself as well as her. She gives you a small smile and nods, and you take your leave up the stairs to your bedroom. Over the years, you’ve renovated the large attic in your parent’s house so that you had more of your own space away from them in your adulthood, while still living at home. It’s been nice and quite private, you’ve really made it your own. 

As you set your bag down on the floor and sit down on your bed, your mind travels back in time to the last time you saw Josh Kiszka. You still wonder where it all went wrong. It was perfect, truly perfect– until it wasn’t. The worst part about it is that it was nobody’s fault, there was no one to blame. You wondered for years if it was just the right person but the wrong time, but those delusions soon faded away as the years progressed and you still never heard from him. He’d moved on, and so had you. 

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JUNE 2020

“I just don’t understand why you won’t just come with us! You’d be perfect there– I need you there!” Josh shouted, slamming his hands down on the counter in frustration as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, keeping your head low.

“Josh, it isn’t that fucking easy! I can’t just pick up and leave! I have responsibilities here! My job, my family!” you yelled with your head in your hands. 

The band made plans to move to Nashville, Tennessee by the end of the month, hoping to record their music there instead. Their success had shot up significantly since the two of you got together, with money pouring in and new music being recorded left and right. You knew they’d outgrow you and this town, but you didn’t think it would happen this soon. 

He begged you to come with him, insisting that you could find a job down there and live with him and Jake, but that wasn’t what you wanted. You made a commitment to your father, having started online business classes with UMich in January with hopes to someday run the shop yourself. Josh knew that, but he insisted that you come with him.

“Don’t you think I’m making sacrifices here, too? I don’t want to have to leave my parents, but it’s our destiny, Saph! This is what I’m meant to do, I thought you’d understand that,” he groaned, shaking his head angrily. Tears start to fill your waterline as you struggle to get your words out.

“Of course I understand! I’ve always believed in you, you know that! Since day one, I’ve supported you!” you yelled as the tears started to escape from your eyes. “You know we’ve always had different goals, this town has always been my whole life. And you’ve always been destined for more. I knew that from the start.”

“If you know that this is what I’m destined to do, then why can’t you just come with me?” he asked with a sigh, rubbing his temples. 

“Josh, I love you. I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved in my entire life,” you said, tears spilling down your face. “But this is your dream, not mine.” You watch as his eyes start to water, mirroring yours. His face drops as the realization kicks in.

“So, that’s it then? You’re just giving up? You’re giving up on us?” Josh asked accusingly, stepping closer to you, but you backed away. 

“I’m not giving up, Josh. But we want different things,” you answered honestly, your voice shaky. 

“All I want is you, Saph. I love you so much. Please,” he said, his eyes pooling with tears. He stepped forward once more, reaching his arms to your waist and attempting to pull you closer. “Please just come with us.” You shook your head, backing up more. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” you said, looking into his eyes as they filled with despair. 

“You’re breaking my heart, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Your heart sank. 

“And you’re breaking mine,” you answered, taking one last look at him before turning around and heading toward the back door in the kitchen, yanking it open and rushing out. As you rushed home, you wiped the tears from your eyes, not wanting your parents to see you that way. And that was it. That was the last time you saw Josh Kiszka.

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CURRENT  DAY

Deep breaths, Y/N, you tell yourself as you look at yourself in your bathroom mirror. You pull your hair back half-up, putting the small section of hair into a little bun that sits on the back of your head. You pull a few front pieces out to frame your face and then pull a brush through the rest of your long, wavy hair. You’ve got this.

You throw on a grey flannel over the cropped tee you were wearing, which contrasts well with your distressed dark grey jeans. You slide on your Converse and then sit down on your bed to check your phone. 

Sammy: Hey, Smalls. Did you think about gracing up with your presence at dinner tonight?

You breathe out a quiet laugh and shake your head at his sarcasm as you type your reply.

You: Don’t get your panties in a twist, Samuel. I’ll be there. 

It doesn’t even take a minute for him to respond.

Sammy: Knew you’d come around. Come over around six?

You slide down on your screen to check the time — 5:28 pm. Okay, you still have some time. 

You: See you then. 

You fiddle with your fingers as you sit on your bed, waiting for the appropriate time to go downstairs and walk next door. The entire situation stressed you out beyond belief. You’re not sure how you managed to get yourself into this mess in the first place, you had done such a good job at avoiding them when they’d come to town for the past four years. But now, it was unavoidable. 

How is Josh going to react? After you left that day, he left you dozens upon dozens of voicemails and text messages, all of which you ignored. After a week of trying to get you to talk to him, he eventually relented. He gave up. At the time, it stung somehow. You didn’t understand it, you wanted him to leave you alone and let you both move on, so why did it hurt so bad when he finally did? It was all so complicated and screwed up. You just hope that he isn’t still upset with you after all this time. 

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JOSH POV

“Josh, honey,” your mom says from the kitchen, making you turn your head to look at her. “Could you turn that movie off? It’s almost time for dinner.” You nod and take your feet off of the coffee table, reaching for the remote, and reluctantly turning the TV off. No matter how old you got, you still always helped your mom with dinner. It was a tradition at this point, as silly as it sounded. 

“Boys, it’s almost dinner time!” she yells, trying to get your bothers’ attention from the garage, which had a door connecting to the kitchen. You hear muffled ‘okay’s from behind the door and soon enough, your brothers emerge from the garage and storm the kitchen. 

You get up from the couch and watch as Sam walks over to the dining room to set the table and Jake opens the fridge and takes out a bottle of white wine to drink with dinner. You decide to enter the kitchen and help her transfer the food to the serving dishes.

“Oh, Mom,” Sam starts from the dining room as he gathers the folded napkins from the pantry. “I forgot to tell you earlier, I stopped into the music store today on my way to get groceries. Y/N was there.” 

Your movements come to a halt as you hear the words fall from his mouth. How could he just bring her up so casually? You quickly try to shake it off. It’s been four years, it’s nothing. You probably won’t even have to see her, anyway. You’ve gone this long without running into her, anyway, probably by her own doing. 

“That’s nice, sweetie. How is she doing?” your mom asks kindly as she hands you an empty dish to transfer the pierogis into. You take the dish into your hands and walk over to an empty counter space to set it down. 

“She’s good! I actually invited her to come to dinner tonight,” Sam said nonchalantly with a shrug. 

“What?” you exclaim instinctually, your mouth agape as you stare daggers into your little brother. Before you even realize what’s happening, you’re startled by the sound of the dish you were holding falling onto the ground and shattering into pieces. You didn’t even feel yourself drop it. “Oh God, Ma I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ll go get the broom, don’t go anywhere.” 

You shake your head and curse under your breath as you rush down the basement steps to grab the broom and quickly run back up to the kitchen. As you clean up your mess, you listen silently to the conversation, too embarrassed by your behavior to say anything else. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen Y/N in ages,” you hear your twin remark from behind you, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms. He needs to wipe that smug look off of his face before you do something drastic. 

“I know, it has been a long time. It’ll be nice to catch up, won’t it, honey?” your mom asks sweetly, turning over her shoulder to look at you with an encouraging smile. 

She knows every single detail about what went down between you and Y/N four years ago. She was here to pick up the pieces. Jake, not so much. While she was there comforting you, your twin was just blinded by his ambition. All he cared about was how great Nashville was going to be, for the both of you. 

“You don’t need Y/N, Josh. You have us. We’re your family,” Jake said apathetically as the two of you packed up your things. You just scoffed, shaking your head as you folded your clothes and placed them into your bags. 

“That’s not the point, Jake. I really wanted her there, and now I don’t know who I am without her,” you admitted, not looking up from your bags in hopes of not catching Jake’s sharp glare. 

“You’re Josh fucking Kiszka, lead singer of a band that’s going to make it BIG, that’s who you are,” Jake said confidently, patting your back. “We’re only just getting started, brother. Mark my words. Years from now, you’re not even going to remember her name.”

He just didn’t get it. Your other half always had an easier time with everything: getting girls, getting over girls, and everything in between. Nothing fazed him. It wasn’t that easy for you. You’re a writer, for God’s sake. An artist. You were nothing without a muse. 

“Just make your own muse then,” your brother had said. 

And that’s just what you did. Once the four of you got to Nashville, all you cared about was the music. You didn’t let yourself get distracted– no girls, no guys, nobody. Just you and your notebook and your dream. And it’s worked like magic ever since, you didn’t need anybody else besides your brothers and this band. The news of her coming back into your life has now set you back to four years ago, like nothing has changed. But everything has. 

“I don’t know, Mom. I don’t think she’s gonna want to talk to me, after everything…” you trail off, turning your back against your family as you try to focus on the task at hand. 

“I still don’t understand what even happened, Josh,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. Of course, he didn’t get it either. He was always fond of her, you assumed he had a small crush on her for most of his childhood. Whatever that was has surely passed on by now, but Sam was always protective over her. He was your brother, at the end of the day, so of course he was on your side. But you always knew that he was sad over her absence, deep down. 

“We were just different people, Sam. It wasn’t meant to be, that’s all. It doesn’t matter now,” you mutter, not looking up from the floor as you finish sweeping. 

“If it doesn’t matter now, then why would she still be upset with you?” Sam asks, frustration coating his voice. “When I talked to her earlier, she seemed to think that you wouldn’t want to talk to her.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, not sure what else to say. Why on Earth would she possibly think you could still be upset with her after all these years? You couldn't admit it then, blinded by young love and all the firsts you shared. But you knew it was for the best, in the end. She didn’t want to leave, and you couldn’t make her. 

You were glad that she let you go when she did, rather than moving with you and growing to resent you. She wanted to stay, and you needed to go. You’ve come to terms with it. Do you still think about her every now and then? Sure. The what-ifs do tend to creep in at night sometimes, but you always quickly shove them down. You have no room for what-ifs in your life right now. Things are really starting to pick up with the band, with your world tour and impending new music that you’ll be teasing any month now. The last thing you needed right now was to worry about the one that got away.

“Just try and talk to her, okay? It can’t hurt,” Sam says, walking past you to go sit on the couch now that he’s finished setting the dinner table. Yes, it can, you think to yourself, knowing better than to actually say it out loud. You just simply nod, grabbing a new dish and transferring the food over.

“Okay. I’ll talk to her,” you concede, covering the food with aluminum foil and then walking over to the dining table to place it down in the center. You run your fingers through your hair nervously as you walk back to the kitchen and finish helping your mom plate the rest of the food. 

You hear your dad walk in through the front door and he enters the kitchen, kissing your mom on the cheek before going to sit on the couch with Sam. You watch as he reaches for the remote and turns the TV on, switching the channel to put on what seems like the hockey game. 

“Hey, I was watching something there! Now I’m going to lose my place!” you scold, walking toward the living room and leaning against the wall. 

“Josh, you were watching Silence of the Lambs for the millionth time, I don’t think you need to worry about losing your place,” Jake teases, walking into the living room to sit on the armchair and recline. 

“Yeah, Josh. C’mon, the Red Wings are on, it’s almost playoffs,” Sam says matter-of-factly. You hear your dad chuckle at the banter, turning the volume up. Traitor. 

“No! No more TV, Y/N will be here any minute now. You four are unbelievable,” your mom scoffs from the kitchen, shaking her head as she finishes preparing the food. Your brothers groan loudly and your dad reaches to turn the TV off. You swallow deeply as you wait nervously for Y/N to arrive. You don’t know what to expect, and that scares you. Maybe it’s because you were the oldest, or maybe it’s because you have a Cancer Moon, but you like being able to predict what will happen next. Now, all of that was completely out of your hands.

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YOUR POV

5:56 pm. Time to go, you suppose. You really don’t know what to expect, but Sam reassured you that everything will be fine. In all honesty, it wasn’t the possibility of Josh being upset with you that worried you. You were worried that, the second you saw him, your entire world would cave in. You were worried that you would just want to fall into his arms and apologize for everything you said. 

But you knew that you couldn’t do that, you can’t. He’s come too far now to be pulled down by you. He seemed truly happy and successful, who were you to come waltzing back into his life and tear it all up? No. You had to be strong. For Josh, and for yourself. 

As you approach the Kiszka’s porch, you take one last deep breath before laying a few soft knocks on the front door. You hear jostling behind the door and a distant “I’ll get it, I’ll get it!” before the door finally swings open with Sam’s wide grin greeting you. 

“Honored guest! Welcome!” he exclaims, reaching out to grab your arm and pull you inside, shutting the door behind you. Your eyes scan the room as you enter, smiling at Sam’s antics before the inevitable happens. First, you see Kelly and Jake sitting in the living room, turning over their shoulders to look at you. But as your eyes drift to the kitchen ahead of you, you see him. 

You knew it was too late to turn back now, despite the strong urge to leave now while you still can. But you can’t run away, not this time. You watch as his posture shifts when he feels your eyes on him, straightening his back as he leans against the wall. Your eyes soften as you take it in, almost unsure of where to start.

He looked so different. Yet somehow, as you looked at him, it still felt familiar. You thought that you would feel uncomfortable or unwelcome, but no. You feel safe. 

His hair was styled much differently now, his fluffy, curly hair now shaved short on the sides of his head. His cheeks were still as rosy as ever, adorned with little white dots along the cheekbones. You like it, you decide. He always knew how to stand out. 

His once bare face was now decorated with a dark mustache and goatee, much like Sam had, but not nearly as long. Josh’s was more clean and precise. Just like him. 

He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled slightly. You can see that his arms have gotten bigger since the last time you saw him, which didn’t surprise you. The boy you once knew truly grew into a man, standing in front of you. 

They all had. Jake looked so different, with his hair sitting right on his shoulder, sporting some facial hair of his own. He looked more serious now, which wasn’t a bad thing. You should feel proud, but all you feel is regret that you weren’t there to see it. 

“Hi,” you say shyly, already beating yourself up on the inside for it. Just hi, seriously? That’s how you want to start? Jake gets up from the armchair on your right to approach you, reaching out to pat your arm supportively.

“It’s great to see you again, Y/N,” he says with a closed-lip smile. “Do you want a drink? I was just about to open this bottle of Chardonnay that I picked out for dinner, if you’re interested.” You nod and follow him to the kitchen, passing Josh on your way there. 

His eyes follow you as you walk into the kitchen. You don’t say anything at first, but as Jake works to open the bottle of wine, you decide to work up the courage. 

“Hey…” you start, walking over to him as he shifts his body, turning to face you with his back against the wall. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he answers, slipping his hands into his front pockets nervously. Ouch. You weren’t necessarily expecting him to use your nickname, it’s been years since you saw each other and the nickname itself was rooted in his feelings for you. But hearing your real name fall from his mouth still cut like a knife. You suppose that if you wanted him to use your nickname, you’d have to earn it. 

“You look good,” you say, fiddling with your fingers in front of you as you look behind you to see if Jake has opened that wine bottle yet. God knows you’ll need it. Josh’s eyes drop suddenly at your words, almost as though he didn’t expect it. Fuck, why did you say that? Making him upset certainly wasn’t your intention when you gave the compliment, you just didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that– stupid…” you start apologizing, but he stops you.

“No, no, it’s okay. I was just taken aback, that’s all,” he says honestly, concern covering his face. He’s still as empathetic as he always was. You knew he would be, you don’t know why you’d expected anything else. “So do you. You look… radiant.” Before you can let him see your cheeks flush, you turn around as Jake extends his arm to hand you a very full glass of wine.

“Jeez, that’s one heavy poor, Kiszka,” you joke, taking a short sip of the wine before leaning your back against the wall opposite of Josh. The younger twin chuckles at your words, taking a sip out of his own glass before answering. 

“Hey, I figured you could use a little extra. What’s the harm?” he says with a shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter. You smile at him, looking at him as the two of you exchange a silent look. It’s clear that he knows how tense this might be for you, and you feel grateful for that. Maybe this dinner wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

Karen descends the stairs and walks into the kitchen, calling everyone to the dinner table. She greets you, of course, expressing how glad she is to see you after so long. You really did feel guilty over abandoning the rest of the Kiszkas when you and Josh had your falling out. They were like a second family to you throughout your entire childhood, so you missed them so much.

The boys rushed to the dinner table, clearly starving from the looks of it. Obviously, they all had their own “assigned” seats around the table, with Josh and Jake sitting next to each other, with Sam sitting across from Jake. The seat across from Josh was probably reserved for their sister, Ronnie, but she wasn’t here, so you suppose that seat’s for you. Timidly, you approach the seat and sit down, looking at Josh quickly before averting your eyes and watching as their parents take their own seats. 

Dinner itself actually went really well. Karen asked you questions about your life recently, and you talked about your brother going to college, as well as your own business degree and your plans to run the shop. Josh kept mostly to himself, eating his dinner silently while sneaking glances every now and then when he thought you weren’t looking. 

You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, though, and that made you feel uneasy. Was he uncomfortable with you being there? Did he want you to leave? Or was it possible that he wanted to talk things out? You hoped for the latter, wanting to at least give both of you some closure. You were hopeful that he wanted that, too. 

Before long, Karen was coming around the table to gather the dirty dishes. As she approached your seat, you pushed your chair back and stood up. 

“Here, Karen, let me help,” you say, picking up your own plate, along with Sam’s. She thanks you, and the two of you walk to the kitchen together to put the dishes in the sink.

“Do you want to dry them once I’m done washing them?” she asks, and you nod eagerly. You get into a rhythm soon enough, finishing the dishes in only a little over five minutes. “I like having a helper around here. These boys always get so lazy after they’re done eating.”

“Tell me about it,” you answer with a laugh. “I used to have to drag Josh up off the couch to go anywhere after we’d had a meal.” The memory was fond but fleeting as you gaze into the dining room to see Josh’s eyes locked on you. Shit, you probably shouldn’t have brought it up. His attention was soon drawn back to his brothers as Jake snapped his fingers at him, trying to get him back into whatever conversation they were having. 

“It really is nice to have you back here, Y/N,” Karen admits with a soft smile. You return it with a gentle nod and she retreats to the living room to sit and watch the rest of the hockey game with Kelly. You stand there for a moment alone before you look over to see the boys getting up from the table. 

“We’re gonna go jam in the garage for a bit. Might be good to get our creative juices flowing in the place where it all started,” Jake says, nodding his head to his brothers as he walks over to the door to the garage. 

Sam quickly follows with Josh behind him, who stops at the door and turns to you both. Your eyes lock for a moment before he looks behind him at the garage, then back at you, seeming a bit conflicted. 

“Hey, I’ll be in a little later. You guys start without me,” Josh says to them, with his eyes still on you. They were searching for something on your face, some sort of sign. You caught on rather quickly, walking toward him to reach for the door to the back porch, opening it apprehensively. You step out onto the porch and he follows, shutting the door softly behind him. 

You walk to the porch swing on the far side of the porch, patting the cushion next to you to tell Josh to sit next to you. You sit in silence for a few moments, unsure where to begin. You open your mouth to start to speak, but Josh beats you to it. 

“So, you come here often?” he jokes, looking down at you with a smirk. You giggle and look down at your feet, the cliche successfully breaking the ice. 

“As a matter of fact, I do. I live right over there, you see,” you say smartly, pointing to your house behind you. A laugh erupts deep from Josh’s chest as he looks over at you with a genuine smile– something that you haven’t seen in so long. It almost felt normal, all of this, in that moment. Almost. 

“You don’t say,” Josh answers with a grin as he reaches into the back pocket of his pants. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a red lighter, pulling one out of the pack. 

“Cigarette?” he offers, stretching his hand out to you with it between his fingers. Your eyes travel from his hand to his face, looking back at him with an awkward smile.

“Oh, I don’t smoke,” you say honestly, your cheeks flushing with a bit of embarrassment as he smiles at you awkwardly, sucking air between his teeth.

“I knew that,” he says, retracting his hand and placing the cigarette between his lips. You laugh, the idea of knowing each other so well but also not at all feeling terribly ironic. He knew you, once. He knew what you used to be. But the girl you were at 22 was very different than you are now at 27, in more ways than one. For better or for worse, you’ve changed, and so has he.

Was it possible to get to know the new version of him? Did he want you to know him? Do you want him to know you? At this moment, sitting on the back porch in the same spot that you sat in for most of your youth, you believe that you did want to know him, and him you. Did he want that too?

Josh lights his cigarette quickly and then slides the pack and lighter back into his pocket, taking a drag before resting his hand on his knee and looking back at you. Why were you so intimidated to say anything? It was just Josh, the same Josh you once loved. Once. What were you so afraid of?

“I almost didn’t come tonight,” you finally admit, leaning your arm onto the back of the swing as you shift your body toward him. He raises his eyebrows at your honesty, shifting his body toward you in return.

“Why did you?” he asks honestly, searching your face for an answer. You weren’t sure what the answer even was, but you tried nonetheless. 

“Honestly? I’m not quite sure,” you say, fidgeting with your hair. “I think part of me hoped to get some closure. Another part just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be.” You didn’t expect yourself to put it all out in the open like that, but you realize that the large glass of wine loosened your lips more than you thought it would. 

“Things can’t go back to the way they used to be,” Josh says quietly, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing it the other way. Your eyes shifted to your lap nervously. 

“I know. You’re right,” you whisper, now avoiding his gaze. You sit silently for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“You’re happy here?” he asks, giving you time to respond. You finally look up at him and his eyes soften as your eyes meet, the same soft eyes you’ve always known. A dark brown color in the darkness of the spring night, only catching the light every once in a while when he turned toward the porch light. 

“I am, I think…” you answer, almost hesitantly. He nods silently. “Are you? Happy there? Is it everything you hoped it would be?” He pauses for a moment, seemingly collecting his thoughts.

“Yes, I’m happy there,” he admits, biting his lip slightly as he ponders his next thought. “But is it everything I hoped it would be? Not so much.” Your eyes fall sadly at his words, inching a bit closer.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Josh,” you say, rubbing his arm softly. He flinches slightly at your touch, making you retreat entirely, scooching back to the other side of the bench. He takes another drag of his cigarette and shakes his head. 

“It’s just a bit lonely. It’s only work there, no play,” he says softly. “I love the music, don’t get me wrong. I’m making the kind of art I always wanted to make. I just hate doing it alone.”

Oh. He isn’t over it. That much was clear. You can’t help but feel responsible for his suffering. But you knew you weren’t, this wasn’t your fault. You were never meant to move down there, it wasn’t right. 

“You’re not alone. You have your brothers, you have friends,” you say supportively, hoping to steer the subject further from the harsh truth. He shakes his head again, taking an extra long drag from his cigarette.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he says, a bit of frustration hanging on his tone. When he catches it, he shakes it off. “Look, it doesn’t matter really. Forget I said anything.” You nod, looking over at him to find that his eyes are already on you. 

Music starts to pour out of the open windows of the garage behind you, startling you a bit. You could hear Sam’s keyboard and Jake’s guitar playing a song that sounded familiar to you, but you weren’t sure why. It must be one of theirs. Surely you heard it in one of their practices all those years ago. 

“What’s this one called?’ you ask, referencing the song coming from the garage. Josh’s lips tweak into a small smile as he answers you. 

“It’s Heat Above. It’s from our second record,” he says. You nod slowly, recognizing the name. 

“I think I know that one,” you say with a timid smile. 

“You listened to the album?” he asks with slight surprise. You nod again, inching a bit closer once more. 

“Of course I did. Listened to the new one, too,” you admit, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. When you look back up at Josh, he’s smiling widely.

“You listen to our music,” he says proudly. You return the smile and look back down at your lap, hoping to avoid him seeing the blush that’s started to cover your cheeks.

“Sometimes, yeah…” you mumble, “You know I always loved hearing you guys play. That never changed.”

“I just thought you might’ve avoided it… like you have us,” he says, which forces you to look back up at him. Here we are again, back to this topic.

“I wasn’t avoiding you…” you start, but he gives you a stern look. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was. But I just wanted to give you some space, you were really upset with me when you left. I didn’t want to rehash it all.” The closed-lip smile on his face as his dimples caved in was enough to catch your breath in your throat. 

“You didn't have to avoid me, Saph… I was fine. I was handling it on my own,” he says softly. There it was. The nickname– finally. You still don’t feel like you’d earned it, but it was clear that he was growing soft on you. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t spark up the butterflies in your stomach that you thought were long gone. 

Comfortable silence fills the air as you look over at him, only inches away from you. As you sit together on the porch swing, the same one that you used to sit on together every summer, you can’t help but feel your heart swell in your chest.

His eyes drift downward every once and a while as he takes drags from his cigarette every minute or so. You know he’s looking at your lips, he has to be. For a moment, you wonder if he wants to kiss you. Do you want to kiss him? It feels like you do, but you know you shouldn’t. It’ll throw you right back to where you started, two people with different goals in life. But despite the glaring truth, your conscience starts to fly out the window as you let your gaze drift to his lips as well. 

He takes one last hit of his cigarette and then puts it out in the ashtray on the table next to the swing. Music still flows loudly from the garage as the two of you sit there together in the quiet night. He turns back toward you, his eyes drifting to your lips again before you decide you can’t take anymore. Your hand leaves your lap and moves to rest on his waist, rubbing his side lightly with your thumb. 

“Josh?” you start, unsure if you want to continue the way you intend to. 

“Yes, Sapphire?” he answers, making your heart jump inside your chest. The nickname was effective before, but now it felt like something different entirely. How he had so much of an effect on you with so few words baffled you. It was something that you’d never experienced before and likely never will again. 

“Are any of those songs about me?” you finally ask, keeping your eyes on his in an effort to feign confidence. You watch as his gaze softens and he nods slowly. 

“Yes, some of them are,” he admits earnestly, his eyes darting to your lips as your proximity becomes even more apparent. 

“Are some of them about someone else?” you ask, already knowing the answer. But you wanted to hear him say it–no, needed to. He was so close that you could feel his warm breath against your face, sending your mind reeling.

“There is no one else,” he says, his voice deep and low. You breathe out a slow breath, trying not to look relieved. The corner of his mouth tweaks up into a smirk as his eyes burn through yours. After a few more moments of silence, where the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, your eyes soften as the gap between you gets even smaller.

“Please,” you whisper, a quiet plea for him to close the gap and give in to all of the desire that was looming over you. And that was all he needed to hear before his soft lips encompassed yours.

The breath is stolen from your throat as Josh’s lips crash against yours, his hands wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You almost have a double-take for a moment, wondering if this was really happening, before you’re snapped out of it by the feeling of Josh’s tongue gliding against your bottom lip. You give him access and his tongue slips past your lips and dances with your own, making you sigh quietly against his lips. 

The feeling of his hands on your body and his mouth finally on yours is almost too good to be true. Were you dreaming? Surely not. His touch brings you back to reality, his hand grazing your ass and grabbing it tightly. God, you missed this. You missed him. You cursed yourself for even having doubts, but you do. Before it goes any further, you pull away, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pause to think straight.

“Josh…” you whisper, resting your forehead against his softly. 

“Don’t think so much,” he says, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “We can talk later. This feels too right to stop now.” After he speaks those words, it all feels reminiscent of a distant memory. Your first time, five years ago.

“Josh…” you start, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. 

“Shhh,” he whispers, bringing his finger to your lips. “We can discuss it later. Right now, I just need to feel you… gotta make sure that this isn’t some sort of dream.”

Some things never change… Without ‘thinking too much,’ you just simply nod and stand up from the swing, taking his hand in yours. 

“Come home with me?” you ask, lacing your fingers with his. A smile creeps across his face as he nods.

“I’m offended that you even felt like you had to ask,” he jokes, letting his arm be dragged by you as you exit the backyard and enter your own, entering the house through the backdoor. Your parents are in bed by now, so the two of you move swiftly up the steep steps into your attic bedroom. Once you enter your bedroom, you shut the door behind you and lock it. 

The room is lit only by the string of lights along the back window, giving you a limited view of the man in front of you. You approach him, placing your hands on the back of his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist softly. Up close, you can see the clear smile across his face. It brought you joy, to see him happy, and to know that you were the reason for it. 

Your lips finally find his again, backing him up quickly until the back of his legs hit the bed. He turns you around, laying your back against the bed as he hovers over you. His hands move to slide your flannel down your arms slowly, tossing it on the floor before leaning down to kiss hot, wet kisses across your jaw and down your neck. 

His hands find the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling up on it lightly as his lips pepper kisses down your neck. You nod feverishly and he leans back to pull your t-shirt up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra. Josh’s hand strokes your cheek softly and then travels down your neck to your chest, grasping your breast over your bra, making it spill out slightly. 

He pulls his own shirt off, throwing it on the floor behind him before leaning back down to kiss down your collarbone, stopping at your bra strap. His finger slips underneath the strap and pulls it up, snapping it against your skin. You let out a light moan at the sensation and you watch him laugh at you before lowering his face to yours. 

“God, you’re desperate for it, huh?” he asks, his nose brushing against yours as his eyes darken. “So needy.”

A quiet whimper leaves your throat involuntarily as one of his hands glides down your side to hold you still at your waist, while the other reaches behind your back and undoes the clasps of your bra in one swift movement. He pulls it off, tossing it to the side before lowering his mouth to your bare chest and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

You throw your head back as his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud relentlessly. It was almost like he was starving, unable to stop himself as he pleasured you. The thought itself turned you on even more, almost becoming too much to handle. 

One of his hands starts to work on the button of your jeans, undoing it before slowly sliding down the zipper. Without even bothering to pull the jeans down, his fingers slip underneath the waistband of your panties and immediately dip into your folds, eliciting a whine from you. A smirk grows across his lips as he dips his fingers through your folds a few more times, teasing your entrance before sliding his pointer finger inside of you with ease. His pace is relentless, curling his finger deep inside you before inserting a second finger, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Josh, I–” you start, struggling to get your words out. He flashes you a smile as he quickens his pace, bringing you closer to the edge. “Josh, enough. I want to feel you, please.” He smirks as you beg for him, his ego growing even bigger knowing the effect he had on you. He removes his fingers from you and then grips the hem of your jeans, yanking them down and pushing them to the floor. He stands up off the bed and unbuttons his own pants, dropping them to the floor along with his boxers. 

God, he was just as beautiful as you remembered. You’ve relived this moment dozens of times before, on nights when you were lonely and longing for him. It happened more than you’d like to admit. His chest was even more sculpted than the last time you’d seen him this way, bare in front of you. He had grown into this strong, sexy man that you almost didn’t recognize. But he was someone that you were desperate to have. 

“I’ve pictured this moment so many times, but it’s still even better than I ever could have imagined,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him on top of you. His lips attack your neck, sucking dark marks along it as you writhe underneath him. 

“You’ve pictured this, baby?” he asks, his eyes dark as his strong arms hold you still on the bed.

“Yes,” you nod, melting into his kiss as his lips press against yours. His hand aligns himself with you, rubbing your sensitive clit as he talks to you before slipping inside.

“Tell me what you thought about,” he says, his eyes burning through yours, dark with lust. Before you have time to answer, he pushes himself inside you to the hilt, making a stifled moan erupt from your throat. Your nails dig into his back as he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back into you harshly. “I said tell me,” he repeats, his voice low and hoarse. His hips start a brutal pace as you try to collect your thoughts, unable to think straight. 

“I– fuck,” you start, quickly interrupted by a harsh slam of his hips as the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix. “I thought about how badly I wanted to feel you inside me again. Just like this,” you finally answer, throwing your head back against your headboard. 

“Yeah? Did you touch yourself while thinking about feeling me deep inside you?” he says, his right hand resting on the back of your neck as his thumb strokes the front of your neck softly. You nod swiftly, your eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. 

“Yes, so many times,” you mutter, your eyes still shut tightly. 

“What else?” he asks as you whine underneath him, struggling to keep going. “Open your eyes, look at me,” he asserts sternly. Fuck, he was so hot when he was in charge, you never wanted it any other way.

“I thought about when you’d be rough with me… so fucking hot,” you spit out, your eyes half-lidded as they lock on his. He curses under his breath and slams his hips extra hard against yours. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling his hips back and pulling out of you before swiftly flipping you over onto your knees. Without warning, he pushes back into you and sets a steady pace, his hand gliding from your hip down your back to the back of your neck. He pushes you down by your back as he slams into you, his tip hitting that special spot inside you repeatedly. You whine underneath him as the pressure inside you starts to build. 

You wince as you feel Josh’s hand crack down on the swell of your ass, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from your mouth. As he fucks you deep into the mattress, his hand comes down on you a few more times, smoothing out the spot softly after each flow to your soft skin. You hear him panting behind you, muttering a slur of curses each time his hand cracks down on you, the sound of you whimpering underneath him almost enough to make him cum right there. 

Josh’s hand wraps around your throat, holding tightly as he pulls you up, his warm chest pressing against your back. The new angle is almost excruciating and your mind is numb, you’re unable to speak. He brushes your hair to the side, planting harsh kisses on your shoulder blade as his neck holds firmly on your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. 

The roughness was partially thanks to how much the tension built up, yearning to break free. But you knew that it was out of frustration too. Frustration over you not leaving with him all those years ago, and you deserved it. At this moment, if this was punishment for your decision, you wanted nothing else. 

“Is this rough enough for you, baby?” he mutters against your skin, his other hand moving from your waist to rub tight circles around your clit. You whine under your touch, knowing that your climax is near. “Is this just what you wanted?” 

“Yes, yes, feels so good,” you breathe, desperate for your release. 

“Perfect,” he whispers, moving his hand from your throat to grasp one of your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipple harshly. God, you were so close. “I’d do anything to make you feel good, Saph. Anything.”

Your orgasm crashes over you at that moment, the burning, white-hot sensation washing over you more intensely than you’ve experienced in God knows how long. Your mind goes foggy and you grow stiff against his touch as he kisses your cheek softly and helps you through it. 

“I’m not gonna last much longer, baby,” he whispers against your skin, kissing down your neck as his thrusts speed up. “Where should I…” You lean your head back against his shoulder as he gets even closer, overstimulation almost taking over you.

“Inside. Fuck, please,” you plead, and he moans in your ear as he slams his hips into you harshly, chasing his own high. 

“Shit, Saph, that’s so fucking hot,” he mutters from behind you, his arm holding your tightly against him as he grows closer. “Gonna fill you up, just like you want. Fuck, I love you so much.”

Your mind is so cloudy from the feeling of Josh inside of you and his lips on your neck that you almsot don’t register it at first. Before you have time to respond, he slams his hips into you one last time before you feel his release shoot deep inside of you. Your eyes roll back just from the feeling of it: warm, perfect. You knew in this moment that you were his. You always have been, and you always will be. It didn’t matter if you were together or apart, you were his. 

He thrusts a few more times, pushing his cum deep inside you before pulling out slowly, laying you down on the bed softly. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder, stroking your bare back softly before getting up from the bed and walking to the bathroom behind you. Moments later, he returns with a towel, soaked in warm water to clean you off with. Once he’s convinced you’re clean, he wipes himself down quickly before tossing the towel back into the bathroom and then lying down next to you on the bed. 

As he lays down on his back next to you, you scooch over on the bed, placing your head next to his on the pillow and putting your hand on his warm, soft chest. He leans over, placing a kiss on your forehead with a quiet sigh. As his fingers start to ghost over your arm sweetly, you finally break the silence. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, nuzzling into his neck as you shut your eyes, knowing that sleep will soon take over you. You don’t have to see him to know that he’s smiling.

“What does this mean for us?” he whispers, the cogs turning slowly. “I have to go back to Nashville on Sunday…” You think for a moment, not wanting to jump the gun or say the wrong thing. 

“I… I’ll talk to my dad in the morning, and I’ll tell him that I need to move to Nashville. With you. He’ll just have to find somebody else to take over.”

The silence is deafening. At first, you wonder if you’ve scared him away, but he speaks again.

“I thought that running the store was your dream, Saph,” he says apprehensively.

“It was. But everything is different now,” you answer, looking up at him with a soft smile. “You’re my dream, Josh Kiszka. Only you. Everything else can come after. I didn’t know it four years ago, but I know it now. It’s always been you.”

His lips crash into yours and you can feel him smiling against yours. Everything was falling into place.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispers. 

“I love you, Josh.”

The End.

*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*༺˚ ⊹♫⊹ ˚༻*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*

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[fleet-of-fiction]

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

[babygirljake]

WHY????????

#ron always gives us the best photos 😭😭😭 #in my heart this is for jake somehow 🧍🏻‍♀️ #they’re so cute 😭😭😭😭 #josh kiszka

[binarysunset17]

I need to pass one more class to graduate.. might pull an all nighter to grind this one out.. besties........ this ones for you ...✊

#greta van fleet #sam gvf #samuel kiszka #sam kiskza #sammy boy #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #sam kiszka #gvf art #greta van fleet art #greta van art #fanart #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #greta van meme

[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

[dosesofjosh]

April 16, 2024

#josh gvf #josh kiszka #josh kiszka gvf #greta van fleet #gvf

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

he loves getting in theme

#josh if you wrre drowning id cut your corset off to save you #josh kiszka #gvf #greta van fleet

[sacredthethreadgvf]

Ohhh 😭

#josh kiszka #greta van fleet

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

The Australia tour announcement is basically the best that they’ve all looked and I’m loyal to my lane but I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t thinking about taking all of them at once

ANY AND ALL CONTENT GOING FORWARD SHOULD BE IN SLOW MOTION!!! IM STARTING A PETITION!!!

#wild wednesday #gvf #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka

[mazzy-rockstar]

“The Battle At Garden’s Gate is three!” Okay so release it on vinyl again

#and in europe pwease #PLEASE #i need one so bad #like so SO bad #i want to hear age of machine through good speakers #need to even #and not spotify quality #the battle at garden's gate #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner

[oh-sweet-mama]

Happy third birthday, TBAGG!!

#greta van fleet #danny wagner #jake kiszka #daniel wagner #danny gvf #josh gvf #josh kiszka #sam kiszka

[jaakey]

the shy boy being beautiful and well spoken in his interview 🥺🫶

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #i love jake sm like wahhhhhh godddd i lvoe u #hes soooo cute and funny an d i love him #and him saying it can be done about following ure dreams makes me cry :( <3 #jacob #mywork