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[ghost-proofbaby]

the hat rule. (e.m. x fem!reader)

the hat rule (n.): you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.

summary: when eddie dresses up as a cowboy to a night out with friends, you decide to steal his hat.

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: reader is described to be wearing a dress. reader is also dressed up as a black cat. premise is everyone is wearing 'slutty' costumes. overuse of pet names. public teasing, unprotected sex, choking kink, oral (f receiving), ass slapping. 18+.

wc: 13.3k+

happy early valentine's day, babes. shout out to @hellfire--cult for beta reading, as well as @andvys for giving me this idea to begin with.

If someone had told you last week that you’d be attending a slutty costume themed night at a club tonight, you would have laughed in their face.

And yet here you were, at Steve Harrington’s apartment, donned in a black cat costume that shows more skin than you have in years.

The elaborate plan had sparked on a random day after Steve encountered a flyer for the event. It was a nightclub your group had attended before, and one look at the line free drinks for participants had Steve running down your entire group to insist that you all needed to dress up, to participate in this, for the luxury of free Tito’s. 

He’d never considered that the ad might not be targeted towards the male population. And now, you were all gathering at his apartment to pregame, ‘slutted out’ as Robin had so kindly put it – men included.

Nancy pulled out some sort of angel costume she claims she had bought but certainly not worn a few years back, Robin had conglomerated an alluring pirate attire from items you hadn’t even been aware were in her closet. Jonathan arrived in his erotic yet pensive writer’s costume (you’d hardly understood it, but he seemed confident, so you all went with it), Argyle in tow donning some sort of seductive surfer costume, in which you certainly recognized the unbuttoned shirt and cargo shorts that had had a pocket knife taken to them to disregard a few inches. Steve even stuck to his own demands, going all out – a sensual bunny costume.

And then, there was Eddie.

Eddie fuckin’ Munson. 

“Pick your jaw up off the ground, sweetheart,” he teases as he shuffles around you in the kitchen to grab a drink, “Gonna start catching flies otherwise.” 

“There’s a joke in there somewhere about how sweet I am, right?” you blandly reply, keeping your eyes on your room temp cocktail that Steve had so graciously mixed for you upon your arrival, “Something where you call me honey or sugar, yeah?” 

Eddie pauses, bottle of vodka in hand, looking at you with big eyes lined in coal, “Oh, baby, you know me so well.” 

“Cut the pet names, Munson.”

You try to scowl. You really do. But you don’t mean a damn word you say. 

Sweetheart. Baby. Hell, even honey would have done it for you when he was wearing that costume. 

Tight leather pants, flared at the ankle. Worn leather boots that certainly had to have been thrifted, clicking with each of his steps. A cow print vest, and just a vest, over what looked to be an oiled chest. 

And that fucking hat smashing down his curls, adding a shadow across his face that only built into the illusion. 

You hate him. You hate this stupid party. You hate Steve for ever suggesting this. 

“You don’t mean that,” he sing-songs as he pours his own drink into a red solo cup. The vodka mixes with cranberry juice, you think, before he’s dropping a few ice cubes out of the freezer. “Or maybe you do, and I should try saying them with a southern drawl,” Fuck, he does a good southern accent. Slow and syrupy sweet, molasses down the throat as he flutters his lashes at you, “That better, darlin’?” 

You pluck the thin black straw that had been added to your cup for flare, probably stolen from a hotel at some point by Steve and positively meant for drinks of the coffee variety, and flick it in his direction without hesitation. 

“Terrible,” you flatly lie, “Cowboys aren’t even from the south, idiot. They’re from the West.” 

You have no desire to hear Eddie’s Western accent. No desire to hear Texan twang on those lips, putting on his best John Wayne impression. In fact, the faster you can get away from him, the quicker you can get yourself under control. 

It had always been this way between you and Eddie. Push and pull. Will they, won’t they. A game of cosmic shores as the two of you toed at each other’s orbits and bantered effortlessly. Flirtatious threats, inappropriate compliments, lewd innuendos – you had done it all, specifically with Eddie.

That’s just how the friendship worked. 

The friendship. 

Friend. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Eddie won’t leave you alone, though, choosing to lean up against the counter beside you, forcing his way into your peripherals, “Damn. You’re right. Wayne would kill me if he knew I mixed that up.” 

“Oh, I think he has plenty of reasons to knock some sense into you.” 

“Yeah?” he leans forward, tauntingly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, “Why don’t you do it for him? I think I’d like a slap more coming from you, honestly.”

He’s acting like he always does. This is normal. The fact that his entire torso is on show and you can’t stop staring at the way his tattoo on his peck is shimmering doesn’t change that. 

You play the role, knowing your part well as you lean in as well, forcing a smile right back at him, “Wanna kiss my knuckles before I do it, or am I gonna have to do all the hard work here?” 

“Oh, trust me, you’d never have to do all the work with me, ba-”

“Can you two get a fucking room?” Robin interrupts as she enters the room, clearly coming in for a refill but getting more than she bargained for. 

You’re aflame with the shame and embarrassment, feeling it lick from your ankles up to your throat, as Eddie only chuckles lowly. 

“Sorry, Robs,” Eddie chirps, not sounding apologetic at all, “I promise I’ll behave myself the rest of the night.” 

And yet, despite the words you’re hearing him say out loud, he does the exact opposite. 

There’s no real need for him to do it. There’s plenty of space amongst the kitchen for him to maneuver his way out without laying a single hand on you – and yet he still fucking does. 

His palm is shockingly warm when it curls around your hip, his other hand occupied with a drink, encouraging you to move a step forward so that he can brush behind you far too close for comfort. You nearly stumble over himself as he does it. The feeling of his barren chest barely bumping your bare shoulder blades sends your mind reeling, and his staple rings that have incorporated into his costume press right through the thin fabric of your dress.

Your breathing stops entirely as he pauses, the slightest bit of skin still brushing against yours, and leans in with a boyish grin, “We’ll both be on our best behavior tonight – right, kitty?” 

Something clicks in your mind. The way the nickname rolls off his tongue as he’s looking at you with eyes flaming with mischief, hand lingering on your hip for far too long. 

Your eyes flicker up to the hat on his head, and you smile slowly, meeting his toying gaze, “Right, cowboy.”

Best behavior, your ass. Tonight, you have decided, ends the will they, won’t they of it all. 

It’s about to either be the best night of your life, or the worst. 

—

Another shot with Nancy. Another smoke with Argyle. Another adjusting of Steve’s corset when he complains he can’t breathe (he certainly can, but you’re starting to think he just likes the attention). The pregaming continues on as more of Steve’s friends from work show up, the apartment slowly beginning to buzz with the chatter of more strangers than you can count on one hand.

You’re not even at the club yet and you’re already regretting your revealing attire.

Eddie stays mostly preoccupied with his own devices, and only gets scolded a handful of times by Nancy. You can hear every lewd joke he makes, of course. At some point, you make a private drinking game out of it; a sip for every time he makes the stereotypical joke of ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’. 

Well, it was a sip the first time. A slightly larger gulp the second time. A chugging of half your drink the third time. 

“There’s no fucking way,” Steve laments at the table the boys as well as a few guests you don’t recognize have taken over for a game of strip poker, “Jonathan is cheating. Or counting cards.”

“I concur,” Eddie mutters around his cigarette, scowling at his losing hand. 

“You’re also cheating, asshole. This is the first round you’ve lost the entire game.”

“Or maybe I’m just really good at cards, Harrington.” 

“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I’m really good at-”

“He’s not cheating,” Nancy interrupts with a sigh from the couch, lounging as she’s served as a referee of sorts for the group. Her entire body weight is draped against Robin, and you’re certainly not going to comment on Robin’s hands toying with her permed locks, “Stop being a sore loser and just strip.” 

You get why Steve was the most upset. He was down to his underwear and socks, corset tossed somewhere far behind him and bunny ears placed on Robin’s head in place of her pirate hat that she had claimed became too warm. 

“I think Steve should trade both socks and put back on the bunny ears,” she quips as she reaches up for the headband, flicking at one of the floppy ears, “He’d look cuter that way.” 

“Fuck off,” he snaps, throwing up a middle finger as Argyle finally loses his shirt. 

When your attention has drifted, you know he did exactly that, though. 

The game had been boring you half to death, honestly. Watching Steve strip without fail every round, hearing the loud cheers from Argyle when he managed to win a few rounds in a row and exclaimed it was a turkey (it had taken a ten minute intermission to explain to him that was bowling, not poker), watching a few of the girls that Steve had invited fawn over him as they carefully removed boots and gloves when they lost – none of it sparked your interest. The only saving grace had been every smug look Eddie offered as he’d win, time and time again. So far, he’d only lost his boots. 

He was hot when he was cocky. There was no way around it.

And now, as he carefully pondered as to which part of his precious costume to part with, you were on the edge of your seat. He was lovely and enticing when he was excited, when he was jubilant with victory, but as a sore loser? 

Dear God, Eddie Munson was a gorgeous specimen with a pout on his lips. 

“Trying to decide what to take off, Munson?” Jonathan notices the way Eddie is hesitating, even through the offset of conversations that had sparked up in the brief pause amongst the growing group.

You lean forward on the couch, almost subconsciously. 

You don’t care what Stacy from Steve’s job thinks of their manager or the latest drama ongoing there, and Steve would probably agree with you if it weren’t for Stacy’s all-red, latex Devil costume.

Eddie scoffs, waving a hand over his attire, “Obviously. You know, it’s not easy to choose when you have a costume as damn good as mine.” 

“What? Don’t think you’ll be as pretty without your hat?” you decide to contribute to the teasing, shocking yourself in the process. 

The last thing you should do when you’re staring him down in this way, is bring attention to yourself. And yet you were, like some fucking idiot with a death wish. 

“You think I’m pretty?”

It’s the fluttering of his lashes as he says it that gives you the courage. They match all that fluttering in your stomach, all that buzzing across your nerves. Because – yeah, you thought he was real fucking pretty. You’d spent the last half hour imagining how pretty he’d look in all sorts of places, too, especially between your sheets and between your thighs. 

You’re up off the couch, taking confident steps towards where he’s seated at the ground on the other side of the coffee table. It’s a little inconvenient now, but it had been a blessing in disguise for most of the game as you’d had a front row seat to the sight of him. 

“Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease, entirely ignoring that lightheaded feeling you get anytime Eddie looks up at you this way. Half-lidded eyes, crooked grin. He’s dangerous and he doesn’t even know it, “I only meant you were pretty with the hat.” 

“You wound me,” he gasps, dropping back on his hands dramatically, his pout now for dramatics rather than genuine, “Gonna stand there and tell me I’m not pretty when I dressed up just for you?”

You have to take a deep breath to compose yourself, cross your arms to steady your guard, “Just for me?” 

He was playing that same old, tired game of yours. The same dance the two of you had memorized the steps to – and something inside of you has grown restless of it. You don’t want to keep skirting around each other with double-meaning jokes, you don’t want to keep painting humor over your flirtatious remarks. You want a damn answer to the age old question of will they, won’t they?

And you want that answer to be will they – terribly, terribly so.

His eyes trail along the room slowly, not avoiding you but trying to draw out the anticipation in you as he sucks in a breath, “Okay, and maybe for Steve. And Nancy. And Argyle. And Jonathan. And- Well, I’d say Robin, but I don’t think she’s looked twice in my direction all night.” 

“I haven’t,” the brunette chirps happily from the couch, still letting the weight of Nancy comfortably dig into her. 

You have no idea how she’s tuned into the conversation, given the way most of everyone else around the room was entirely ignoring the two of you. 

“So,” you all but purr, leaning down to be more level with Eddie. You already know where his focus wanders when his eyes don’t meet yours, “Not just for me, cowboy.” 

He’s distracted, staring at your chest as you notice him slip up in his brave facade for a second. Almost as though you’ve gone too far, pushed the limits a bit too hard. Good. You want to break this. You want to shatter whatever cage the two of you have built.

In one smooth movement, your hand reaches out and snatches the hat right off his head. 

He lets out a yelp and tries to grab it away from you, but you have the advantage as you stand up straight once more. Your free hand reaches up and tears off the cat ears you had donned, and in their place, the hat is deposited. 

It fits you a little big, and you nearly make a joke about the size of Eddie’s head. 

“Hey!” he argues, moving as though he might stand up and put up more of a fight, “I didn’t say the hat is what I wanted to take off.” 

“Took too long,” you shrug innocently. 

“Yeah, well, just carefully add it to the pile,” he jabs his thumb over his shoulder, towards his boots, as he relaxes back into his recline.

You should probably behave yourself. 

“No.”

But this is more fun. 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in shot, disappearing behind the bangs that are flattened far more than usual. The entire crown of his head is absolutely crushed. No sign of his usual frizzy roots and unruly volume, “No?”

“No,” you confirm a second time. 

And you’re done with this game of back and forth. 

The hat’s staying on your head. It smells ever so faintly of his shampoo, the slightest whiff of his cologne even, and it’s staying on your head for the exact reason he believes is about to be a gotcha! moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he’s just tipsy enough that he’s not putting on any specific accent. Instead, his natural Appalachian accent inherited from his uncle begins to break the surface, “Surely you know about the hat rule.” 

Damn right, you know about the hat rule.

You cross your arms, huff a little, tilt the hat for effect, “The hat rule? Please, enlighten me.” 

“You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” 

Perfect. 

You don’t even attempt any sort of surprised act. No exaggerated gasps, no fumbling to remove the hat. You knew all about this rule, and it had been one of the first things to come to mind when you’d seen him enter this damn party with the hat on. 

“Yeah?” you question, mocking raising your eyebrows at best, “Hm. What a shame.”

And then you turn on your heel, not awaiting a single response from Eddie as you escape to the kitchen.

You almost wish you would have stayed an extra second to properly witness his reaction. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s gone pretty and pink, a flustered mess for at least a second as low laughter sounds from the rest of your friends. A tell-tale snort from Robin, and a silent cackle from Nancy. You swear you even pick up on one of the extra guests muttering a confused what just happened? that goes entirely unanswered.

Strip poker doesn’t continue on for long after that.

You refill your drink, this time sans the alcohol, and return to find Steve has officially begun to call for cabs to the club. He busies away on his phone as everyone debates who’s riding with who, the entire party slowly coming to life as everyone stands to prepare to leave for the main attraction. 

When you meet Eddie’s gaze from across the room, the shadow of the brim of his hat cutting into your vision a little, his cheeks match the cranberry juice in your cup. 

Good. 

—

The ride to the club is a blur, and all that really stands out to you is that Eddie makes sure he does not ride in the same cab as you.

Which is fine. Really. It doesn’t cause a single spark of panic in your chest. Not one. 

You’re definitely not working yourself up over the thought that your plan is crumbling right before your eyes, that you’ve gone too far and entirely misinterpreted everything Eddie has ever done during your entire friendship. You’re not mulling over every dirty joke, not dissecting every single line that felt like he was flirting with you and attempting to look at it with fresh eyes. No, the entire ride to the club, you are definitely not beating a dead horse dead. 

Maybe you should have set off to ride the dead horse and not the cowboy. Maybe, then, Eddie would have gotten into the fucking cab with you. 

Your anxieties only worsen once you get inside the club. Pulsing beneath your skin, right in rhythm with the music. Your entire group had each been handed a drink ticket on your way in, and you had noted the fact that the girls of the group were slipped extra tickets. 

Nancy had given all her tickets to Robin, and Steve had given his singular ticket to Stacy. 

“So,” Robin runs up to your side, Nancy not far behind, “Do we waste our drink tickets on shots or real drinks?” 

“Real drinks,” you immediately reply, eyes scanning the bouncing crowd for a certain head of curly hair, “Shots are… well, they can be cheap. We can just avoid the top-shelf shit.”

Was Eddie really going to ignore you the entire night? 

He needed his hat. He couldn’t ignore you the entire night. 

“You’re right,” Robin shuffles the drink tickets in her hands, turning to Nancy, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be me to ask you to flirt with men to get me-”

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll have us a round.” 

Nancy’s smile is sweet, courteous, as she gives Robin’s shoulder a squeeze on her way past her. 

Where the fuck is Eddie? 

“Did you see where the guys ran off to?” you blurt out. Most of the guys, aside from Steve, took the same cab. 

Robin also joins you in a quick survey of the club, lifting onto her tippy toes to squint over the current light show, “Honestly? I have no idea.” 

Fuck. 

As she drops back down onto her heels, Robin looks at you knowingly, eyes flicking up between your twisted expression and the hat on your head. 

“Trying to find a certain cowboy?” 

“What?” you look at her, already defensive, even if it was stupid at this point. Who cares if everyone knows you have a crush on Eddie? Who cares if everyone finds out the very foundations of your friendship with him were built upon quite a bit of truth? “I mean- yeah, he kind of needs his hat to complete his outfit.” 

“Should have just given him your ears for an even trade,” Robin shrugs, clinging to your elbow to avoid getting separated as a few bodies push past the two of you, “I’m sure he’ll pop up soon enough, though. Besides, I don’t think anyone’s too focused on what everyone’s costumes are as long as they’re… well…”

“Slutted out,” you finish for her flatly, trying to not get jealous as your eyes look across the sweaty crowd, stomach churning as you wonder how many other sexy black cats in the crowd would be approaching your cowboy. 

You fucked up. You shouldn’t have taken his hat. 

“Exactly!” she’s excited, unaware of your crisis, already moving along from the topic as she spots Nancy somewhere near the bar top, “Look, free shots!” 

The free shots don’t do much to quell your unease, but free alcohol is always nice.

You take the liquid down, burn and all, more than willingly. And then again, not even five minutes later when Nancy has caught the attention of another random man at the end of the bar. You almost partake in a third, but you finally hear a familiar voice saying a far too familiar joke. 

“You know what they say,” he’s flirting – he’s using a tone of voice that he has never used with you, and it’s clear he’s fucking flirting, “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” 

Instead of continuing your drinking game from Steve’s apartment, you slam the shot back down and mutter some sorry excuse of being right back to Robin and Nancy before taking off in the direction of Eddie.

He’s stood a few stools down at the bar, hands leaning against the worn wood as his arms bracket a pretty blonde. It almost looks as if the line might be working on her. 

“If you’re a cowboy,” she giggles, and you almost stop dead in your tracks, “Then where’s your hat?” 

Well, that’s as good of a queue for your arrival if any. 

“Good question,” you pipe up as you take a few brave steps towards him, “Where is your hat, cowboy?” 

You’d expected him to be angry, or startled, or possibly even immediately take off running in the opposite direction of you. He doesn’t. 

He slowly turns, and his flirtatious smile has turned into more of a salacious grin as he faces you, “Well, well, well. Nice of you to join us, Kitty.” 

The blonde looks between you two a few times before shimmying down off her stool, “I think…. I’m gonna go. Nice to meet you, cowboy.”

You expect Eddie to react, but he hardly does. A quick glance in her direction, a pathetic wave. 

You’ve just trampled over one of his chances of getting properly lucky tonight, and he isn’t even phased. 

“Been lookin’ for you,” you mumble, looking over him. His hair seems to have been unstuck from his scalp a little, at least. As though he may have been running his hands through it repeatedly, “Thought you might have gone home without your hat.” 

“Not a chance. I haven’t forgotten about the rule, you know.” 

Something twists in you, deep in your gut, between your hips. 

“No?” you hold your breath as he leans in a bit closer to you to be able to hear over the music, “Good thing I haven’t either.” 

He tilts his head, eyes glittering in the multi-colored lights, “You haven’t? Then that means you’ll be giving it back, right?” 

Over my dead body. 

You’re on a mission tonight. You’ll either be ending this night in sore disappointment, drinking away your sorrows of rejection, or you’ll be ending up in a bed with Eddie. It’s up to him. 

You lift a hand to the worn rim, tugging it a bit more securely onto your head, “Not a chance, Munson. You know where to find me once you’re done playing around.”

As soon as your fingers leave the rim, holding tense eye contact with him, his own hand is coming up. You tense, worried he’s about to steal the hat back now, but he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers pinch the same spot yours just had, slow tracing over the rim as his tongue darts out to carefully wet his bottom lip. 

From the front point, around to the side. When he reaches the bit above your ear, his touch drops to your cheek and tucks back some of the baby hairs sticking to your skin with sweat. 

“I do, don’t I?” he hums, voice dropping a bit lower, focused entirely on you. “I don’t think I’m the one playing around right now, though, Kitty.” 

Does he think you’re joking? Does he actually, genuinely think this is all a game to you? 

You nearly make the decision to grab him right there, right at this moment, and shatter all the tension. Get his lips on yours and drag him into the darkest corner just to prove to him how serious you truly were. 

Suddenly, his hand drops away from you entirely, and you almost want to whine. You miss that warmth, that feathery caress, until it aches. “It’s okay, though. Always knew cats were playful things.” 

Is there a dark corner somewhere near you two? Is there a dark hallway to drag him into? Just enough shadow to cover all the sins you’re desperate to commit, just enough light to see that blush rise across his cheeks again. 

“I’m not playing,” you whisper, eyes drifting down to his hand cradling a glass. Something deep and russet, just like his eyes. Likely whiskey. You wonder if you’d be able to taste it all over his tongue before you had him putting it to work where you need him most right now. “Whenever you get that through your big head, come find me.” 

“Big head?” he throws his head back in a laugh, and the tension mists away in seconds. “Who says I have a big head?” 

“I do, as the one wearing your hat,” you readjust it for emphasis. 

You thought the tension had misted away until he’s smirking, tsking a little, “Oh, thought you meant the other one.” 

It’s a replay of the scene in Steve’s apartment, but this time, the roles are reversed. You’re the one left in shock, mouth agape, as Eddie spins around and walks away, leaving you to sit with what he’s just said. 

“Bastard,” you breathe out as you watch him disappear in the crowd, eyes locked on his broad shoulders until one too many bodies separate the two of you. 

A bastard you want awfully, terribly, bad. 

—

You wish you could say you threw back drink, after drink, after drink. You wish you could say you danced with a hundred different beautiful strangers, and each one strayed your mind farther from Eddie. 

You wish you could say you did anything but what the reality of your night had been.

A few men had approached you, only to be turned down repeatedly. Most of your night was spent all but moping at the bar, eyes diligently scanning the bouncing crowd for a certain curly haired figure that seemed to escape you. One moment, you’d catch him pressed against a flirty stranger, hands holding onto whatever bare skin was available to him. And then, his eyes would find yours, and there would be a spark; a wink, a smile, a whisper across a bustling room daring you to come out and play with him. 

You never did. You’d look away, take a sip of your plain coke, and wait a few seconds until it was safe to look back and find him seemingly vanished. 

That in itself had started to become a game. Just like the hat, weighing heavy on your head. 

You’re starting to accept that maybe you had just been a bit too brave. You’d jumped the gun, flown feet first into cold and ragged waters you weren’t prepared to navigate. You knew you wanted a change with Eddie, but were you ready? If you had been, you would have accepted one of his various invites. Would have strode across the room, shoved away whatever man or woman he was dancing with, and slotted yourself into their place. You would have been swaying your hips in rhythm with his rather than allowing him to cycle through strangers, and you’d be reminding him that you wore his hat. 

You’d be the one bringing up the hat rule to him consistently, not him to you. 

When the night begins to wane, you’ve already talked yourself out of it all. 

“I’m heading out,” you announce to Robin when she finally returns back to where you’ve sat at the bar to babysit their drinks, hopping down from the stool before she could argue, “I’m getting way too tired.” 

“What?” your friend gasps, face pink from the heat of being in the crowd, a shimmering sheen of sweat across her forehead, “No! Stay! We can take turns watching the drinks, or just-”

“Robs,” you smile as sweetly as possible, patting yourself down to make sure you have all your belongings. A whistle sounds from a group down the way at the bar, and you ignore them, “It’s seriously okay. You’re having fun! I’m just a senior citizen who needs some sleep. My bedtime was like…. An hour ago.” 

You highly doubt you’ll be getting any rest when you return to your apartment. Maybe some confidence can be built out of fantasies, letting your hands wander and sheets catch fire with all that could have been if you hadn’t talked yourself out of your perfect plan. 

Maybe, imagining Eddie’s hot hands on you rather than getting to properly feel them will light a damn fire under your ass for the next opportunity that arises. 

“I…” she sighs, glancing over her shoulder in the general direction of Nancy, “Okay, fine. But do we want to do brunch or something tomorrow?” 

Not a chance, you think rather quickly, eyes scanning once more for the metal-head-turned-cowboy. Not if Eddie’s going to be there.

“Sure,” you lie, already knowing he will be there, “Just text me.” 

With that, you make your grand escape. 

Borrowed hat on head, phone in hand, you push your way out of the club with a newfound determination. You want to get home and take off this uncomfortable dress, finally do away with the thigh highs that have been rolling down at the most inconvenient of times, driving you insane the entire night. Trade the sexy attire for something comfy – stay true to the cat essence as you curl up beneath your blankets for the night. Hang that damn cowboy hat on your door as a cursed reminder-

“Where do you think you’re going, Kitty?” 

You stop a few feet short of the curb, a cab ordered as you turn to find that bastard leaning against the wall. Cigarette smoke is still clinging to the air around him as he looks at you curiously. 

“Home,” you shrug, trying to ignore your pounding heart. You’d figured you wouldn’t see him again tonight, that your fate had been sealed. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Smoke break,” he lifts his hand with the cigarette pinched between two fingers casually, pushing off the wall to come closer, “It’s hard work, keeping you entertained all night.” 

You scoff, falling back into what’s almost a normal rhythm for you two, “You were not the one keeping me entertained all night.” 

“I hardly saw you dance with anyone at all.” 

“I did!” you try to defend yourself, deciding this could be fine. Some casual conversation as you wait for your ride, a way to pass the time. This is fine. “Robin dragged me out into the crowd at least twice.” 

“I watched you swat a guy’s hands away not once, but three times.” 

“Unsolicited touching isn’t a compliment. He should have taken the hint the first time.” 

Eddie nods in eager agreement, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Damn right. If he had gone in for a fourth try, I was considering dragging him out here for an early smoke break.” 

“Why do I highly doubt it would just be a smoke break?” you question, glancing at him with a smile. Scandalous plans aside for the night, embarrassment swallowed down whole, it’s nice to remember that Eddie is a friend. Albeit a bit flirty, and capable of driving you fucking insane, but he’s a friend.

And maybe that isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

“Oh, no, yeah. You’d be posting my bail.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’ve got my hat, ” he reaches out and flicks the brim with his free hand, and you freeze up a little. You had hoped he wouldn’t mention it again, “Kind of makes me your problem until the end of the night. Speaking of….” 

You already know what he’s about to request as he trails off. This is it. You either give up the bit, hand the hat back over, and go home for the night – or you make one final attempt to get what you had wanted.

Eddie. You wanted Eddie, as more than a friend. 

“I’m gonna need that back, sweetheart.”

At least he’s asking politely, you consider, before it hits you why he’s asking rather than taking. 

The looks across the room. The way he’d been unbothered by the girl he’d been flirting with running off at your appearance. The way he never just took back that fucking hat when he’d been provided ample opportunity. 

He thinks it’s a game for you, and keeps bringing it up, because it isn’t for him. He’s giving you one last chance to back out, or to stand your ground. To say you really want this. 

And fuck, you really want this. 

“Nope,” you lean into his space, pressing closer, fully committed. Your phone dings with the notification of your ride approaching, and you fully ignore it. “My hat now, cowboy.” 

He quirks an eyebrow, and you hear the crunch of gravel behind you. Your ride. “Is that so?” 

“Yep.”

Another ding, another buzz of your phone.

Go ahead. Bring up the hat rule. 

“That your ride?” he asks, tilting his chin in the direction of the car. 

You glance over your shoulder, “Pretty sure it is, yeah.” 

“And you remember the hat rule?” 

Your stomach twists with excitement. Your previous pity party is long forgotten – you’re still hoping to get out of this dress, but you highly doubt you’ll be slipping anything on after it. “I do.”

“Great,” those hot hands you’d been fantasizing about the entire night suddenly reach out to you, gripping your hips tightly as he tugs you into his body. You collide with his chest as he leans down and whispers in your ear, “In that case, that’s my pussy now.” 

His lips linger against the shell of your ear an extra second, warm breath sending chills up your spine before he’s keeping an arm around your shoulders as he guides you to the car. His cologne and the scent of tobacco is suffocating, and you crave to drown in it. You want him to consume you; you want him to take over every breath you breathe, every move you make, to finally get those hot hands and lips everywhere you’ve only dreamt of. 

You barely hear him confirm with the driver that it is in fact your ride – you can only focus on that hand on your lower back, palm heavy on you as his thumb traces arcs that nearly spend you spiraling. 

“After you, kitty,” he murmurs, motioning for you to slide into the backseat first. 

In that case, that’s my pussy now.

You hope he ruins you. 

In the backseat of the ride, it’s all polite distance and hands to yourself. You can’t even make eye contact with the driver, terrified he might be able to mindread and see all the filthy thoughts racing through your head. 

Eddie between your thighs, mouthing at your hips. 

Eddie hovering over you, pulling your knees to your chest as he stretches you out. 

Eddie, proving that your pussy is in fact his for the night. That it was made for him, sculpted out to fit the curvature and every single vein of him. 

Eddie simply fucking your brains out. 

Some polite conversation is exchanged, mostly between Eddie and the driver. The classic questioning of how the night has gone, small talk that buzzes in your ears mindlessly. 

The entire time, you can see Eddie’s hand in the space between you two, fingers tapping away at dark leather incessantly. His rings shimmer like a siren calling to you. 

It’s a small movement, when your own hand drops near his. You keep your eyes trained forward once you begin your mission, inching your pinky closer and closer until it finally collides with his. You swear, you feel him fully jump out of his seat. 

Slowly warming the water, you start off simple – playing with his fingers. Gentle caresses over his knuckles, little pricks to the pads of his fingers. He tries to capture your hand in his, but you have bigger plans at play here. 

You’ve spent the entire fucking night waiting for this. You’re going to have fun with it. 

He huffs after you deter his second attempt at properly holding hands, his knees falling apart a little further. You twist at the ring on his middle finger, a clunky skull you’ve always admired. It has minimal signs of wear, probably pure silver if you had to guess, and you can only imagine how cold it’s going to feel against your skin. 

You can only imagine the imprints it’ll leave if he grabs your hips just right. 

“You know,” the driver hums mindlessly over the low volume of the radio, “You guys are my first ride of the night, surprisingly. Thought it might be busier with all the parties and clubs, but I think it’s just barely picking up now.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks politely, nodding as he looks out his window. Perfect, “I think you’re right. It is getting pretty late-”

He’s entirely distracted, your hand out of his line of sight as it moves in on its target. 

His thigh. 

Just a few inches above his knee, your hand grips at what is clearly sensitive flesh. You watch his entire body turn to stone when you do it, and he moves his head quickly to look in your direction. 

You’re looking straight ahead. 

There had been a time, a few weeks ago, where you’d learned Eddie had… sensitive knees. You’d been joking around about one thing or another, and when your palms had gripped at them through the torn fabric of ripped jeans, he’d nearly launched himself across the room. He just kept insisting they were ticklish, that that skin was just delicate.

You’d seen the tent in his jeans then. You’d just been a bit more polite, a bit better behaved that day. 

“What are you doing?” he hisses in a whisper, reaching for your hand, but you’re quick to slide it even higher. 

His hips jump a little, and the driver is none the wiser. 

“Nothing,” you innocently say, still looking ahead, watching the passing streetlights with intense interest. “Absolutely nothing at all.” 

The entire ride, at every red light, your hand inches higher. 

And every time, you relish the way he squirms in your peripherals.

By the time you’re five minutes out from your place, you’ve riled him up to impossible heights. Every little noise has him on edge, constant twitching and shifting in his seat as he tries to get you to just look at him. You know he’s catching every sly smile that attempts to creep up on your lips – you’re pathetically failing at every turn to cover them up. 

You think you have him like putty in your palms as you give yet another squeeze to his thigh, fingers starting to dance up even higher. When your eyes flicker to his crotch for just a second, you see him straining against that tight leather. 

And then he flips the script. 

You’re so focused on your own goals, you never see that ringed hand creep to your own thigh. It’s not until cool metal nips at you, briefly, before you feel the warmth of his hand overtake, that you realize the predicament you’ve gotten into. 

Just as your hand was beginning to skim over his crotch, Eddie’s hand found solace between the meat of your thighs. Even as you try to clench them together, deny him the access he was seeking out, he finds his way in. Scandalous fingers dipping under the hem of your dress, fighting fire with fire when he lets his middle finger brush across the fabric of your underwear. 

Your touch from him nearly retracts entirely. 

“What?” he leans in closer to you, the driver still focused on the road, “Don’t like a taste of your own medicine?”

As he says it, his fingers dip lower. Hovering right over your protected clit, making your entire abdomen clench. 

You swallow hard, a bit of your jagged pride somewhere amongst the spit as you turn your head to look at him, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Still playing games I see.” 

In sync, the two of you lock eyes as you continue to test waters. You apply pressure with your palm and note the way his breathing hitches, and he draws a feather-light circle around the wet patch forming in your underwear. You can feel your bottom lip quiver as you try to refuse to give him any satisfaction, but when he’s this close, it’s a hopeless battle.

When had he gotten so near you? What happened to all that static distance from when you’d first crawled into the backseat?

You’re trying to only focus on your own hand. Eyes darting to guarantee the driver is still oblivious as you roll the heel of your hand harder against the seam of his pants, and biting your lip to hold back a successful grin when he has to cover a gasp with a cough. It’s all fun and games until the action is rewarded with his payback; his knuckle curling up against your cunt through your panties, pressing in hard before slowly sliding his way up, up, up. 

He deliberately stops when he catches on your clit, and you’re the one coughing now. 

“Had enough?” he mutters under his breath, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. He looks good in this lighting, flashes of the streetlights bathing him in soft yellow, headlights of other cars fluttering in through the windshield as they hit his brown eyes just right to bronze them. 

“Never.”

You almost think you’ve won when his knuckle pulls back. 

But suddenly, his entire hand is cupping your cunt, two fingers pressing against your fluttering hole as another drags up your slit slowly once more. This time, when he reaches your clit, he continues moving in small circles. 

You have to bite your lip to hold back any noises, eyes closing for just a second as you hear him huff out a laugh. 

The final damnation is when he brings his lips to your bare shoulder, merely grazing your skin with them as he mumbles, “You sure about that, Kitty?” 

You clench around nothing, and you know when he feels it from where his fingers remain pressed against you. His own hand twitches as the finger circling your clit stutters for a moment. 

“I-”

“We’re here!” the driver says, not having looked into the backseat yet as he finds a safe place to pull the car into. In an instant, you and Eddie remove your hands from each other. You’re both visibly flustered – you can feel how warm your cheeks have gotten, and you can see clouds of pink splattering over Eddie’s chest and neck. 

“Thanks,” Eddie is the one to speak up as the car comes to a halt, not even waiting for the driver to put the vehicle in park as he throws the door open. 

A bit rushed, but still polite as ever before he’s grabbing you by your bicep to pull you out of the cramped space right along with him. 

You can hardly muster a weak wave to the man as Eddie is dragging you towards your apartment building, knees still a bit weak and mind still blank after getting a taste of your own medicine, as Eddie had put it. 

He doesn’t let go of you until you’re at your front door, those cursed shaking hands of yours fumbling with your key ring. 

“Here, let me-” he starts to offer, reaching for the keys that continue to clank together, just as you find the one you’re looking for. 

“I’ve got it-” you try to cut him off, just as you drop the fucking keys in your haste. “Shit.” 

You quickly drop to the ground to grab them, pausing once you have the metal digging into your palms once more. There’s no real reason for you to do it, but you do – you take a second to look up at Eddie from this position, and nearly drool at the sight of it.

Him, standing over you, still a bit flushed and still visibly uncomfortable in his pants. Pretty curls a mess and lips darkening from how much he’s been biting them. 

You want him to ruin you. You want him to absolutely, entirely and utterly destroy you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he laughs, chest heaving a bit as he watches you carefully, pupils slowly growing in the dim light of your building’s hallway. 

You can see his bare torso clenching, the twitch of his hands at his sides – the same fingers that had just been caressing you over your underwear in the backseat of a stranger’s car. 

“Like what?” you’re dragging out the moment, taking time to appreciate the sight of him. 

“Like you want me to just press you up against the wall and fuck you out here, for everyone to see.” 

That’s a new one. That’s a vision that hadn’t come to you in all your dirtiest dreams of the night. 

It sends your clit throbbing. 

You rise slowly, pushing the hat back a bit to see him better, keeping your voice quiet so your neighbors won’t hear as you ask, “Would you? If I asked nicely?” 

He doesn’t let out a laugh, but a breath of air, like you’ve just sucked all of the oxygen out of his lungs. 

No need to say it – you know he would. You probably wouldn’t even have to ask nicely. 

You’re staring at him when he finally moves, one hand snatching your keys out of your hand and the other gripping you around the waist. Back to pulling you, man-handling you to get you right where he wants you – where he needs you. 

One second, you’re pressed against his body in the hallway. The next, he’s managed to unlock your front door and throw you both into the safety of your apartment. 

Hidden from the world, and you’re still reeling as you wonder what it’d be like for the entire building to witness you calling out his name. Or him calling out your name. 

Here within these four walls, Eddie has put some space between the two of you, staring with blown out eyes and a shaking chest as he breathes out, “Sweetheart.”

A few seconds pass, the two of you just standing there, the click of the front door’s lock being the only thing echoing in the silence. If you focused over the roar of the blood pounding in your ears, you might catch every single gasp of his as he stares in awe – but your focus is elsewhere. Far away and out of grasp for the time being. You can only think of one thing, and one thing only. 

Your body isn’t your own as you move to get exactly what you want; you drop to your knees hard enough that you should cringe at the thought of the pain that will linger, possibly for days, but it doesn’t even cross your mind as your hands begin to fumble with Eddie’s pants. The oversized, gaudy belt buckle is in your way, glinting at you as if mocking the way your shaking hands can’t undo it fast enough. You’re about to give up and just start unzipping the leather pants, desperate to get your hands, and your mouth, and your eyes on him properly, when he stops you. 

“Hey,” he sounds breathless - he is breathless - as his own hands quiver a bit and grab onto yours, “Hey, hey, hey. Slow down.”

Those hands let go of your wrists and reach for the hat, and you’re quick to try and swat them away only for him to grab at you, surprisingly gentle, as he drags you back up to your feet. 

“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy – right?” you insist, chin held high, your gaze refusing to waver from his. 

His slow and buttery grin makes you lightheaded, his low chuckle sends shakes through every nerve and bone. “That’s right, but maybe the cowboy wants to take his time. Ever think of that, hm?” 

Were you moving too fast? Were you going to scare him off? 

Small, baby steps are taken by Eddie, the click of his heels shattering against your wooden floors until his hips are flush with yours. 

And - oh.

Oh. 

That surely didn’t feel like you were scaring him off. 

You could feel the outline of his cock, hard against your hip, as he gives a little roll. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, nostrils flaring with a hard breath, and the fear leaves as quickly as it had arrived. 

He wants this. You want him. 

“I’m not a very patient person,” you murmur, eyes glued to his lips now as his head leans in closer, and his hands begin to explore your body. Taking their time as they travel down your arms from where he’d held onto your biceps, slowing as they reach your wrists. Even the press of his thumb against the sensitive inner skin there sends jolts up your spine, little gasps attempting to escape your mouth. 

His fingers tangle loosely with your own for a few moments before his palms find your hips, and he continues his journey. 

“That’s okay,” he whispers back, close enough now that his lips have begun to brush against your own. His nose bumps yours as his hands skate up over your ribcage, thumb sweeping out over the hill of your breast and intentionally avoiding your nipple, “I can teach you, baby.”

Your mouth finally collides with him at the words, nearly going limp in his arms at the words. 

You’ve thought about kissing Eddie for a while now. Every time a snarky remark fell from his lips, you’d wonder how his tongue might taste afterwards. Every time he’d pout his lips at one of your comebacks, or blow a kiss teasingly in your direction from across a room, you’d wonder how hard you might have to bite down to make him bleed. Every drag of a cigarette you’d witnessed, every hard gasp in faux offense, every breathless chuckle at a joke he didn’t want to find funny but did – you had spent a lot of time wondering what it might be like to steal all the air from his lungs, to kiss him until the two of you were both blue in the face. 

“Can’t the lesson wait until tomorrow?” you mumble against him as his mouth, your own fists now gripping onto the lapels of his vest. His hands have reached your shoulders, memorizing the outlines of the curve of your neck where it meets your collarbones, the slope of your chest as you take hot and heavy breaths. 

“Nope,” he insists, pulling back from the kiss, a little bit of spit on his pink lips, “But it’s nice to know you’re thinking about tomorrow.” 

A hand finally finds your chin and pinches it carefully between his thumb and fingers, a careful grip on you to angle you just right so he can all but devour you. Lips, tongues, teeth – it’s a messy ordeal, and you almost make a smart-ass remark that this kiss doesn’t feel very patient. 

But you can’t. Eddie’s taken away all your breaths, all your words, as he starts to guide you backwards. 

Your knees hit the cushions of your sofa, making you jump back from him with a gasp, palms going flat against his chest. 

He feels good. Tender skin soft to the touch beneath your hand, tattoos tempting to trace the outline of. Later. 

“Figured you might want a more comfortable ride,” he laughs against you, breath smelling ever so faintly of mint and whiskey washing over you, before he dips to mouth away at your neck.

You drop back onto the sofa, bite your tongue on a comment about how this cheap piece of furniture most definitely wasn’t the most comfortable option, simply eager at the fact he was letting this move along. 

You want him, you need him, and you have no time for patience. 

His exploration of touches have lit you aflame, and you’re growing a bit desperate at this point. It might be pathetic, it should be embarrassing, but you really don’t care. 

“By all means,” you break out of his hold entirely, catching the way his hand holding your chin lingers a few extra seconds, reluctant to let you go, “Take your seat, Cowboy.” 

He joins you on the couch, eyes never leaving yours even as he throws himself down. Knees spread wide, inviting lap on show, cock still straining against his pants. 

The best seat in the house, as far as you’re concerned. 

“You just gonna keep starin’,” he mocks lightly, looking you over slowly. Taking his time, you suppose, “Or you gonna get over here?” 

His words are all you need. You’re quick to climb onto his lap, swinging your legs so that each thigh brackets his hips, your cunt pressing down on crotch carelessly. You love the way it feels – the outline of him hard against you, the cooling effect of the leather, the sharp edges of the zipper catching just right. 

“There,” he huffs out, grabbing onto you when you give the slightest roll of your hips, “Now we’re both in our seats.” 

When you go to press down harder, guiding yourself over his lap, hands steadying you by gripping his shoulders, he surprises you by his hips jumping up to meet your slow rhythm.

“What happened to being patient?” you try to tease him right back as your forehead meets his, hat comically struggling to stay on between the two of you, “Thought you were gonna take your time with me-”

“Between you and me, I’m not gonna last,” he pants out, hands finding your hips. Those rings you’d been fantasizing of leaving an imprint on you are doing just that as he guides you, “Been dreaming of you too long, sweetheart. Wanted this for so long.” 

Your heart nearly stops. Your hips stutter, pausing as his words rush over you. 

“What?” 

Your head lifts away from his completely, grip on his shoulders tightening. 

He’s wanted this, too? This entire time? 

Eddie takes your pause as a bad thing, a terrible omen as his face pales, “I mean- I just-”

“Munson,” you say lowly, narrowing your eyes at him, “You’re telling me, this entire time, you’ve been flirting with me?” 

Had that tone he used with the girl at the bar been flirting as you’d thought, or simple for show? You’d so cluelessly assumed he’d never used that tone with you because he’d never genuinely flirted with you – and yet, it seems, he’d never used that tone because he’d been genuinely flirting with you. 

“I-” his cheeks are brilliant red, and the wide eyes are from something different than lust now, “Maybe?” 

“Maybe?” you almost laugh, throwing your head back. The hat falls off, but Eddie is quick to retrieve it, “My God, we’re fucking idiots.” 

“Hey, I’m not the one who stole my hat-”

“I like you, dumb ass,” you state plainly, “I wanted this for a while, too.” 

He pauses, one arm outstretched as his hand grips onto the hat, “What?” 

“Been thinking about this, too,” your voice drops a little, almost a whisper, even though you two are the only ones in the room. For all you know, you two might be the only two people left in the world with the way he’s looking at you, “Thinking about you and your lips. Thinking ‘bout your hands and the places they’d go,” as you point out every detail, his body seemingly reacts. A lick of his lips, a squeeze of his hand still on your hip, “Thought about your fingers and tongue a lot, too. How good they’d feel inside me.” 

His hips thrust up at that, and suddenly, he’s placing his hat back atop your head. 

That, it seems, was all the encouragement Eddie needed. 

He deals with that belt buckle that had given you hell, bouncing you a bit on his lap as he fumbles with yanking the entire belt off and tossing it to the side. One hand busies with undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, as the other starts to bunch your dress. 

“Nice and slow,” he insists, looking up at you, absolutely vibrant. Somewhere between the tightness between your hips, all the throbbing between your thighs and in your chest, you feel a sort of bubbly delight creeping up along your spine. “Got it, kitty?” 

You nod once. Twice. On the third nod, he cuts you off with a kiss. 

Your dress is up to your waist, and you don’t know how, but he manages to shimmy off his pants without throwing you off his lap entirely. It’s impressive, really. Probably a symptom of him having thought about this, dreamt about this. He’d probably thought up every scenario possible, and was prepared. 

“Oh, and these?” his fingers find the waistband of your panties, tsking a little as he pulls at the elastic and lets it slap back against your skin, “Those definitely have to come off.” 

“Whatever you say, cowboy.” 

You take your time sliding off his lap, making sure to grind against him before you properly lift away. He throws his head back in a groan, Adam’s apple bobbing as you stand up straight. You take that moment to just admire him, capturing the clench of his jaw to memory, the way his eyes screw shut in pleasure at your influence. 

He’s fucking perfect. You’re sure there’s others who disagree, but you’d pay them no mind. He’s perfect, and he’s all yours. 

You make a show of taking off your panties only once he’s properly looking at you once more, craving his eyes on you as you keep all your movements fluid and steady. No rush, exuding all that patience he’d prattled on about. 

You want to see his face when you gently toss the black lacey piece in his direction, watch him fumble with his own desperation to catch them. 

“Seems a bit unfair that I’m the only one undressing,” you hum as you go a step further and begin to shimmy out of the dress.

“Yeah, well,” he grins cheekily at you, fisting your panties, a hand trailing down to the waistband of his boxers as he eyes you, “One of us was showing a bit more skin than the other.”

“Take off the vest, Eddie.” 

Your command is velvet, and he’s quick to obey. His hand stubbornly refuses to let go of your panties as he rushes to shrug out of the thin fabric over his shoulders, tossing the vest to join his pants and your dress on the floor. 

“And the boxers.” 

You stand there, in nothing but his cowboy hat, as you wait pretty and patient for him to listen. And listen he does. 

The moment his boxers are discarded, his cock is standing at attention, leaking from the tip and deep shade of pink that matches his kiss-bitten lips. You think it might be the prettiest color you’ve ever laid eyes on as you watch a drop of  precum slip down his shaft. 

He’s pretty, even in the fucking pants. 

Girthy, thick enough you almost arch your back before you’ve even sunk down on him. All veins and soft skin, a sensitive tip that you’d trace your tongue over for hours if he let you. 

“Gonna just stand there, or are you going to ride your cowboy?” 

He surely meant to sound more cocky, but the words come out as more of a whine as you watch him twitch under your stare. 

He’s right though, and you’d rather get him inside you than spend another second gawking. There will be time to pay more attention to him and his pretty cock tomorrow. Right now, you need to finish this god-forsaken mission. 

Your thighs find his hips just as his hands find yours, choosing to grip the couch rather than his shoulders as you steady yourself. 

Nice and slow, his words echo in your mind. 

You could have prepared yourself more, but you’d already made it clear to Eddie that you are not a patient person. The fact that you even take your time as you sink down on him, going as far as to grab him by his base and guide his tip to smear precum across your clit, is impressive. 

The stretch is a bit painful. A bit much. A bit dizzying. But you refuse to stop as your jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out softly as you feel him fill you, “Fuck, Eddie.” 

“Feel good, baby?” he questions, reaching up to grab your chin just as he had before. Forcing you closer to him, forcing you to look him in the eyes just as he bottoms out. 

You don’t answer him as you both moan out. 

You stay there for a second, unmoving as you swim in the feeling. Feeling him press into the depths of you, the overwhelming warmth and the coil in your abdomen tightening ever so slightly. 

It’s better than you had imagined it. No daydreams could compare to the feeling of Eddie’s cock finally, finally filling you. Stretching you out, making you his. 

“Go ahead,” he grits out, entire body tense, clearly holding out on you, “Ride your cowboy, kitty. Don’t make me ask twice.” 

Nice. And. Slow.

Three little words that ricochet through your mind as you start to slowly bounce on him. Lifting ever so slightly, dropping back down, aching to feel him even deeper inside of you. Feeling the quiver of his thighs to match yours as you repeat the action, gasps and whimpers falling from both your lips. You’re about to try and kiss him, try and swallow all those delicate noises from him, when he stops you. 

“No, no, no,” he’s chuckling, giving your hips a few squeezes before his palms rub down your thighs, the friction sending you on edge, “C’mon, now. We both know that’s not how you ride.” 

His hands rake over your skin, down to your knees, lighting scratching and squeezing along their entire pathway until they make their way back up to your waist and hips. 

“Do it like this, sweetheart.”

He guides you, no longer allowing you to lift up. You sink all the way down on his cock, whining out at the fullness, before he starts the pattern. 

Back and forth. Gentle circles amidst the rocking. Your clit grazes his pubes, and the coil in between your hips has never tightened more quickly. 

The motion feels familiar - like riding a bull. 

This feels right. You still press down, still clench down on him hard enough to make you both slip out obscenities, but it’s getting you there. 

At some point, Eddie’s grip on your hips slips, but it’s fine – you’ve got the rhythm down perfectly. Slow, intermittent figure eights between the rolls of your hips, his occasionally slamming upward to reward you with that deepness you need. You can feel him in your stomach, in your chest, in your throat. 

You get a bit daring, and take one hand to his shoulders, as the other reaches up for the top of the hat on your head. 

Just like a cowboy. 

“Like this?” you pant out between harsher rolls, eliciting curses that continue to grow louder from Eddie. 

“Fuck, baby, yes,” he groans out, head thrown back, mouth open in gratification, “Just like that. Keep- keep going just,” he thrusts up, “Like,” another thrust, “That.” 

You nearly lose balance, falling forward a bit, too stubborn to let go of the hat. There’s a grin glimmering at the corners of your mouth, and it fully blooms when Eddie throws up a hand to catch you .

A hand on your throat. 

He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t cut off blood flow or breathing. He keeps that warm palm there at the base of your neck, cradling you, holding you. A reminder that he could squeeze if he wanted, that he held you in the palm of his hands currently, but he won’t. 

“You like that?” his eyes shine as he looks up at you, the sight of his rings decorating your neck. 

You nod.

“Tell me with your words,” he commands.

“I like it,” you whimper, looking up further, stretching more of your neck to be vulnerable to Eddie. “I like it so much, baby.” 

When the pet name falls from your lips, you can feel him twitch inside of you. The sudden jut of his hips, the sharp intake of breath. 

“You like that,” you laugh breathlessly, your hand atop the hat the only thing keeping it from falling as you lean your head fully back, eyes beginning to roll back into your head. “Wanna be my baby, Munson?” 

“Always have,” he grunts, the hand on your throat slipping up to cup your face to drag you towards him, “Since the fucking moment I met you, sweetheart.”

When he kisses you, it tastes like the closest to Heaven you might ever get. Soft, plump lips, and an eager tongue. All the wasted time hiding behind jokes and teasing, playing pretend like the flirting was never serious.

It was serious. And if you’d just come clean sooner, you would have had this long ago. 

Your hips are still rolling as your hands begin to roam. You’ve found your balance again, lips pressed to Eddie, and it’s your turn to explore all he has to give you. Your nails graze his stomach when your clit catches once more on that rough thatch of hair against the base of his cock. Your fingers dig into flesh wherever they can find it – his chest, his arms, his hips. At some point, you throw a hand out behind you, grasping for his knee. Learning every curve and every point of his body as he had done for you. 

You wanna memorize the roadmap of him. Take a snapshot in your mind so that next time, none of it is unfamiliar territory. 

Your touch is driving him insane; it doesn’t take a genius to pick up on the way his hips falter to meet your movements, or how he keeps breaking the kiss to gasp, letting his jaw fall slack when he hits a particular deep spot within you. 

It’s when your lips finally trail down the stubble sprouting across his jawline, mouth sucking on the soft skin below his ear, that he’s finally a goner. 

“‘M close,” he gasps out, almost sounding drunk as he slurs through his pants, “Ah, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me, Eddie.” 

Maybe it’s the way you had been touching him, or the way your cunt had been fluttering around him, or the persistent rolling of your hips that had become so focused on his pleasure. Maybe it was the sight of you in his hat, looking at him like that. Maybe it was the way his name sounded on your tongue. 

Either way, when Eddie Munson comes undone, he’s beautiful. 

Your own movements slow involuntarily as you gaze starry eyed, watching the way his face scrunches and feeling his grip on you tighten impossibly. Leaving their mark, making you his in yet another way. Warmth fills your cunt and every curse word under the summer sun is falling from his lips. 

Your name, curses, prayers, gratitude – a jumbled mess, and it sounds fucking fantastic when it’s said in Eddie’s desperate tone. 

“Shit,” he gasps out, finally coming back down to Earth, “Shit.”

You sit still on his lap, skin sticky with sweat, lips spread thin in a cheeky grin, “Sounds like I get to keep your hat, cowboy.” 

His eyes shoot open, and for a second, you’re terrified.

Those aren’t the eyes of someone satisfied. 

“You didn’t cum.”

“What?”

“You,” he says, stressing the word as he shifts you off his lap. You don’t miss the way he winces, clearly a bit sensitive, “Did not cum.” 

You hadn’t really noticed, too wrapped up in him to notice your high slipping away from you. You’d been too focused on Eddie: on feeling him cum inside you, on watching him break apart, on tracing the outline of the blood rushing to his cheeks with your eyes and that fresh burst of violet on his neck in the shape of your lips. 

“It’s fine,” you start to argue, feeling the warmth of him leaking down your thighs. You should be a lot more worried about making a mess all over your sofa. You should be, but you aren’t. “I can-”

“You’re not keeping that fucking hat until you cum for me, sweetheart.” 

And, oh, maybe your own orgasm wasn’t racing as far away from you as you’d believed, because those words nearly push you over the edge for him. 

“Get on all fours for me, baby.” 

Yeah. You definitely could still be close. For him.

When you don’t move to follow his command immediately, he’s using those gentle hands to guide you. Encouraging a twist of your hips from how you’re reclining back across the couch, letting you press your cheek down against the cushion.

You open your mouth to argue, to insist it was fine, to say anything, but you’re cut silent when a sudden slap lands on your ass. 

A silent command this time, and you’re finally listening. 

You lift your ass up for him on shaky knees, elbows digging into the cushion now instead of your face. The hat on your head is lopsided, and you almost reach up to fix it when- 

“I’ll be taking that,” For the first time since you’d stolen his hat, Eddie takes it back. Right off your head, too fast for you to protest. When you dig your chin into your shoulder to look back at him, he’s smiling, hat back in its rightful place atop his curls, “You can have it back after you cum for me, at least once.”

“At least once?” you mean to laugh, to sound cocky, but it comes out as more of a squeak. 

He shrugs, leaning forward, his bare chest pressing against the skin of your bare ass – right where an imprint of his hand still sings, “At least. By all means, if you feel the need, don’t hesitate to give me a few. God knows you’ve earned it.” 

You don’t have time to banter back; he retracts before bring his mouth down to your cunt, and your elbows quickly give out at the first long stride of his tongue. 

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, a bit muffled, against your cunt. 

Another stride, and this time, his tongue spends an extra second at your clit, circling it salaciously. 

“Oh, God,” you moan out into a mouthful of couch cushion, tempted to bite down to hide all the noises creeping up your throat when his tongue draws yet another circle, tip of his nose pressed to your sensitive hole.

He brings his tongue back to that space, that hole that feels gaping without him filling you now, and you try to bury your cheek only to earn another slap on the ass.

“Don’t be shy now, kitty. Let me hear you.” 

And let him hear you, you do. 

Each lick, short and timid or long and confident, is dredging up obscene mewls from you. When he enters you with it, curling it and pressing as deep as he can, truly cleaning you up as he had said, you’re chanting his name. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you cry softly, rocking your body back against his mouth, “Your fingers. P-Please, use your fingers.” 

Your wish is his command as he brings his hand up between your legs, breaking from having his tongue buried inside of you and using a calloused pad of his finger to trace over your clit before he begs, “Say my name again.” 

You do. Over, and over, and over as his mouth and his fingers begin to work against you. Careful focus is placed on your clit, and his mouth runs amok between your cunt and thighs. You feel what will no doubt be hickies along the curve of your ass, nips of teeth against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he presses two fingers into you. With every thrust of his hand, your hips are rocking back to match his rhythm, wanting more. 

More, more, more. 

There’s nothing nice and slow about this. You’re chasing after a high, and Eddie is listening to you every step of the way. 

Your thighs begin to shake terribly right around the time your vision blurs, unable to contain the whines that have grown to echoing volumes. Surely, your neighbors can hear. Probably confused as to who Eddie is, probably considering how embarrassing it would be to knock down your door and complain about the noises. 

You really, really don’t give a fuck when white speckles flood your vision, even with your eyes screwed shut, and that tension between your hips threatens to snap. 

Right before your knees give out, your entire body trembling, Eddie pulls back and grabs your hips. You cry out, so close yet so far, until he’s flipping you back over. 

You get one glimpse of him before he goes to work to bring you over that edge – lips and chin slick with you, hair frizzing beneath his hat, a determined glint in his eyes that have your thighs clenching around his ears. 

You were right. Eddie Munson looks damn good between your thighs. 

He quickly returns to his mitigations, and this time, it’s all a bit more strategic. Lips suctioned around your clit and three fingers curling deep within you, a beckoning motion as he urges you to let go for him. 

The white returns behind your eyelids. Your back arches up off the sofa. Your ankles lock as they cross behind Eddie’s back, almost effectively trapping him in place.

You cum hard for him. 

You’re entirely unaware if you scream his name in the process, but you hope you do. As that relief, that ecstasy, floods your system, you hope you make sure everyone within a five mile radius knows who’s responsible. Your entire body continues to shake for far longer than you believe it ever has before. Your hips had lifted, begging for Eddie to keep going even as it all grew painful.

He does. He keeps going, sucking you dry for every drop you have to give him, until you’re physically having to shove him away. 

Your hands are weak as you sink down into the cushion, eyes still closed as you hear him chuckle before you feel him crawl his way back up your body. 

“There,” you don’t even need to see his face to see that smug satisfaction – his voice is dripping in it. “Now you can keep the hat.” 

One of your hands blindly throws itself through the air to smack him, missing entirely as you drift through the afterglow of it all. 

“I’m not sure I’ve earned it,” you mumble as he catches your wrist, limp in the air, “Pretty sure I didn’t break you when I made you cum.”

“Oh, you did,” he notes, hand curling around your wrist. You watch as he slowly brings it to his lips, peppering a few chaste kisses on the soft skin, “Just in a different way.” 

You raise your eyebrows, smiling at the tingling feeling left behind on your skin in the wake of his mouth, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

He tugs you to sit up despite your groan of protest, somehow smoothly maneuvering the two of you so that he’s now the one beneath you, letting the full weight of you bear down on his chest as you lay on top of him. The hand wrapped around your wrist brings it back up for more kisses, more repetitive gentle pecks of affection, as his other arm is quick to wrap around you. Holding you in place, as though he’s scared you might disappear. 

“Well,” you whisper against the bare skin of his chest, nearly shivering when his free hand starts to trail slowly up and down your spine, “Good.” 

Your cheek feels the vibrations of his chuckle, “That’s all you have to say?” 

“Give me a few minutes to recover,” you insist, all but nuzzling into him, “I’m sure I’ll have a smartass comeback for you once I’m…” you trail off, heavy eyes looking up at him, the words lost on your tongue and in the air. 

The gentle curve of his cupid’s bow. The roundness at the end of his nose, still a fading hue of pink. The freckle beneath his right eye. The way the phantom of the dimple of his left cheek never quite leaves his face.

All the things you’ve dreamt of seeing so up close, never knowing it could have been a reality. 

He lets go of your wrist, smiling softly with a shake of his head, “Can’t believe you’re gonna fall asleep on me.”

“Am not,” you nearly say under your breath, sighing in content. 

“Am too,” he mocks, a certain docility to all his teasing before he sighs as well, “It’s okay. You can. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

You hum, eyes fluttering shut as you hear some rustling, “Promise, cowboy?” 

“Absolutely, kitty. You said something about tomorrow, remember?” 

You both laugh in sync as your couch suddenly becomes the most comfortable place in the world. 

Just before losing consciousness, right as you feel Eddie’s breathing even out along with your own, you decide to open your eyes one last time to catch sight of the cowboy hat perched carefully on your coffee table. 

Tomorrow. You hope for a thousand tomorrows as you decide that that hat is definitely yours now.

[jakekiszkaenthusiast]

twenty six || jake

pairing: jake kiszka x reader

warnings: birthday sex teehee, mentions of alcohol.

author’s note: aaaand part two. POV has changed, but i’m sure you guys will still enjoy. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TWINS I LOVE YOU

josh’s version

Keep reading

[jakekiszkaenthusiast]

just a moment longer

pairing: jake kiszka x reader

warnings: mentions of poor mental health, but otherwise it’s just soft soft fluff!!

author’s note: short lil soft thing. i want soft jake and i want him now

Keep reading

[streamsofstardust]

truth or dare | d.r.w/s.f.k

danny wagner x reader x sam kiszka

word count: 5,971

content warnings: pure filth obviously. dirty talk, degradation, dom!danny, choking, spanking, praise kink, penetrative sex, oral (m & f receiving), squirting, smoking that good ole mary jane

summary: a chill night in with your best friends danny and sam takes a bit of an unexpected turn in the best way possible. sometimes lines should be crossed, right?

Keep reading

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Little Monster

Dad!Sam fluff and angst coming your way finally.

Words: 5.3k

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, miscarriages, mentions of considered abortions, implied pregnancy trauma

1.

“Holy shit.”

You started freaking out a little bit.

No. No - that was the understatement of the century. You were freaking out a lot. This was big, though. Huge. So enormous that you felt justified for feeling this way.

“Holy shit, holy shit, fuck damnit little – shit.” All your muttered curses were quiet, but the weight of the situation was driving your anxiety up past just dealing with it quietly and you let your head thump back against the wall, harder than you had intended.

As a shuffle from outside the bathroom door immediately sounded, and a shadow moved across the crack between the floor and the door, Sam’s words floating in, saying, “Babe? Are you okay in there? It sounded like you fell.”

“I’m good,” you called back out in response. But your voice cracked halfway through. You were not good. You were not good at all. And the sound of Sam’s voice brought you crashing back into reality where the whole ‘double-line means pregnant’ thing was pertinent to someone other than just you.

There was a small silence, and it brought a small, trembling smile to your face. He’d never been good at the whole comfort thing. But he was sure to have heard the tears in your voice and was probably debating whether he should leave you alone or ask what was wrong.

“Uhhh…can I come in?” So the latter had won out in the end.

“It’s unlocked,” you said quietly, tucking the pregnancy test under your thigh from your place on the floor.

As soon as the door opened, Sam sucked in a breath, scrambling to reach out to you. “I thought you said you didn’t fall!”

You laughed a little bit and shook your head, not moving off the ground. “I didn’t.”

“Then why are you on the bathroom floor?” Sam stopped trying to help you up and stood staring at you strangely, still warily watching your face for any sign of distress. “Is this where you go to think or something?”

His attempt at humor hit the mark, and you huffed out another shaky laugh as you shook your head, but your anxiety quickly overtook the moment and you felt a sudden rush of overwhelming emotions – both good and bad – hijack your emotional state, and the tears you’d been ignoring started up in a sudden flood.

Sam was obviously as surprised by your tears as you were, and his hands retracted into his body as if he’d been the one to hurt you. “I – uhhh, hang on,” he said quickly, darting out to the living room and then hurrying around the doorframe once again with a box of tissues in hand. “Here you go,” he offered awkwardly, taking a seat down beside you and knocking into your shoulder with his.

“I’m fine,” you sobbed. The pure rift between your words and your tears made you laugh in between tears, and a snot bubble came out with it, which made Sam laugh as you sniffled, “Oh, god. That was attractive.”

Sam’s hand on your thigh made you tense, knowing the contents of the little stick underneath your other leg, and as Sam said, “If there was ever a woman who could pull off the look, you’d be it.”

You said, “I have something to tell you.” Sam blinked and stared at you expectantly, and you blew your nose one more time before taking the test out with one trembling hand and showing Sam. “I don’t know how…I – but I’m –”

Sam stared at the little stick, face now pale and eyes wide. “Oh, shit.”

…

2.

It had been rough waters at first – this whole baby thing. Hard to accept for both you and Sam, and even harder to decide what to do – adoption, abortion, the responsibility of raising a kid as a couple who, in the scheme of things, hadn’t really been together all that long. Not to mention the fact that Sam was gone 9 months out of the year.

Neither of you were prepared to be a parent, but then again, who really was? And in the end, it came down to you. It was your body, and therefore your choice, and Sam respected that, having told you that although the choice was yours, it was his responsibility, too, whatever you decided.

And the pressure from that almost had you buckling.

You loved that Sam was taking as much responsibility as he could, but still letting you know that you could do whatever you wanted. But it wasn’t fair. He didn’t have to make the decision, he didn’t have to be the one carrying that decision. It was awful, having this kind of power. Nix it now, or let it grow.

And your research proved to be helpful in informing you of each decision, but nothing helped you with the actual decision. Nothing could. In the end, after all was said and done, you found yourself sitting in the parking lot of a Planned Parenthood with Sam in the driver’s seat, watching you cry.

It wasn’t about religion, or politics, or your family or his – it was about the fact that even in the few days you’d known about it, you’d become attached to the burgeoning life inside of you. Flashes of chubby little arms and legs and cheeks, toddles across carpets, happy grins from lips that flashed different people each time it zipped across your thoughts put stutters in your steps and an ache in your heart.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t go through with it. So, you decided to keep it.

Was Sam just a tiny bit resentful of that decision at first? You thought so, even if he never said it to your face. Or perhaps it was just your own insecurities that you were projecting on your boyfriend. A free spirit, unwilling to be tied down in any way that counted with the world at his feet – a father, now. Laden with responsibilities he both chose and didn’t choose.

It hadn’t helped when he’d been his usual charming self at your first doctor’s appointment, because you knew him, and then you knew his stage persona. And he’d been putting on the façade throughout each question, the ultrasound, and the car ride home until you’d snapped, “Dammit, Sam! I don’t want fucking Sam Kiszka from Greta Van Fleet!” The car door slammed as you stalked inside, hissing, “Come talk when you’re ready to stop being a bitch about everything,” over your shoulder as Sam stared after you.

It wasn’t long after that he came to find you in his bed, curled up underneath a soft blanket. “I’m sorry,” he’d said to you, cuddling against your back as you laid listlessly, wondering if you’d made the wrong decision. “I’m sorry. I do that when I get nervous.”

After a sigh, you took his hand, resting gently against your stomach in a gesture that held so much more weight now. “I know,” you said dully, “But I can’t do this alone, and when you act like that, like you can’t be vulnerable, it makes me think that I made a mistake, and that you think I’ve made a mistake.” Sam tried to protest, but you only tightened your hold on his hand. “Is that – do you think I’ve--?”

“No,” he stated immediately. “This whole thing was a happy little accident, as Bob Ross would say. But it’ll be okay.”

Despite his answer, you were still uncertain.

It was this insecurity that made each little gesture the next few weeks just a little sweeter. It started with him staring at babies just a little bit longer in public – which made you a little anxious at first, unknowing if it was in dread or interest, but when one waved at him and he grew a grin you hadn’t seen on him for a few weeks, your frayed nerves had been soothed for just a moment. He couldn’t have been that against the baby with a smile so big.

(If you were reaching, you weren’t going to blame yourself.)

And then, when showing you a photo of Rosie, he swiped one too many times and you saw a screenshot of a website for new dads for just a split second before he swiped back. And he’d shared a funny parenthood meme with you. And taken the measurements of the guest room, “Just for later.” His enthusiasm took a weight off your shoulders, and you finally began to truly enjoy the thought of your little family.

From refusing to even look at the baby section in stores those few agonizing days you’d been making your decision and then still even a few weeks after, him coming home and shakily pulling out a little gender-neutral onesie with a guitar printed across the material had tears springing to your eyes.

“I like that,” you croaked. “I think Jake will be thrilled, too.”

Sam chuckled, nervously running his hand through his hair. “I was thinking about asking the fandom if someone knew how to make a bass one. Guitarists already have a big enough ego, and everyone knows bass players are better.”

He accepted your embrace as you wrapped your arms around him, but you were more enamored with the show of surpassed acceptance, into what you thought might have been the beginnings of excitement. “What are you talking about?” you asked, face still buried in his shirt. “This baby has you as a dad, it’s gonna have a big ego regardless.”

“I’ll show you ‘big ego’…” he said, gently poking your sides as you giggled. After a moment, he stopped and you heard him gulp. “Fuck…Dad.” You felt his heart kick up a notch from your position. “We’re doing this and I’m gonna be someone’s dad.”

You smiled at the awe, apprehension aside because you had your own doubts, in his voice. But it was awe. The good kind.

…

3.

There was an added excitement around the ultrasound of the first trimester – you were finally going to tell Sam’s family about the pregnancy. He’d been chomping at the bit to tell someone, anyone, and it had been torture going through band practices without blurting out the news. But you were stubbornly refusing to let the cat out of the bag until time passed that 12 weeks mark and you were at less of a risk for miscarriage. It would have been horrifyingly awful for you to shock people with an accidental pregnancy and then rip it away because you’d jumped the gun, and you were still coming to terms with the whole situation yourself.

But of course, everything had to contain shock value, apparently. Because Sam’s fingers and yours were turning white around each other as the technician pointed to your little baby blob. Well, blobs.

“There’s your first baby, and right here,” he said, pointing to another little white form behind the first, “is your second. Twins!”

The room fell awkwardly silent for a moment before Sam cracked, “Hey, babe, feel like going to buy a lottery ticket after this? We might just get the luck of the draw.”

You chuckled, the sound a little forced. “Your brothers are twins, Samuel. We’d probably end up with a ticket that won, like, three years ago or something. It happened before, it’s happening again.”

The tech printed off the ultrasounds and tucked them into a manilla folder for you, along with your next suggested appointment date. “A surprise?” he asked, soft smile on his face. You were certain you weren’t the only couple he’d given this exact news to, even today.

“Well, with this pregnancy, everything is a surprise,” you said dryly, and, not wanting to give the wrong impression, then, “but not loved any less.”

Definitely not loved any less, as the Kiszkas proved just a few hours later.

Sam’s family was ecstatic with even one baby – Jake and Josh fighting over who was going to be the favorite uncle already, until Sam stopped them with a, “Hey, dickwads,” much to his parents’ stink eye, “you don’t have to fight.” He opened up the manilla envelope and laid out the two photos, each twin circled in different colors. “I guess the twin genes in our family didn’t stop with you.”

“Fuck yes!” The twins crowed, pumping their fists in the air. “We’re gonna be twin uncles to fucking twins!”

Karen clapped her hands together in excitement through the phone screen you’d facetimed them with and looked to Kelly, who was grinning like he had the day Sam said they’d told their parents they got signed.

“Twins?” Ronnie asked through another phone, grin seeping into her tone. “I thought Jake and Josh were enough. Now we get two mini Sams running around?”

You laughed, flipping your friend off through the screen. “Hey, what about two of me?”

“Is that supposed to be better?”

Sam chuckled at your expense, and the anarchy was interrupted by the door opening. “Sorry I’m late, guys. What was this emergency meeting about?” Danny stepped into Sam’s apartment – soon to be both of yours with Sam having asked you to move in the past week – and caught sight of the ultrasounds on the table. “Is that – wait…what?”

You and Sam shared a glance. “Surprise! We’re pregnant. And, uh…surprise! We’re also having twins. Wanna be their godfather?”

And the chaos started all over again.

…

4.

Without close family of your own, Karen and Kelly had quickly taken you under their wing early in your relationship, but now that you knew you were having twins, Karen was a bright, golden beacon for you, having gone through that experience herself. It seemed like she had an answer for everything – sickness, cravings, pain in weird places, emotions, preparations, boxes of double baby stuff that kept arriving at your door, and how to deal with her son when it all felt like too much over the next month or so.

But you weren’t sure if she’d have an answer for how to deal with this.

The sad, apologetic look on the ultrasound tech and doctor’s faces. The stony deadpan on Sam’s. Your own agony ripping through you and a very strange feeling of numbness while tears threatened at your eyes twisting your face into something that couldn’t possibly even begin to reflect what you were feeling.

“We can’t be sure when this happened,” the doctor explained gently, “but the important thing to remember is that based on your answers, it was not your fault. Nothing you did put your babies at risk, and the sad reality of the matter is that while it’s not incredibly common for vanishing twin syndrome to occur during the second trimester, it’s not unheard of. I’m sorry, guys.” The doctor’s words were a little bit lost on you - you heard them, but it was hard for you to listen when you’d just been informed you lost one of your babies. A twin. 

Like your fucking keys that dropped behind the couch - lost, is what they’d told you.

“And I know it’s hard to see a bright side to this, but your other little one seems to be healthy – no complications at all.”

“That’s good,” you heard Sam murmur. “At least we have that.”

“At least we have that,” you said, your words echoing into darkness.

It was explained that they’d monitor you more closely now to make sure the loss didn’t place you as a high-risk pregnancy, and you were given a few papers with information and a directory to complimentary grief counselors. Again, you tried to process everything, but there was a block in your mind in the form of a repeating, ‘only one, only one, only one.’ 

You cried when you got back into the car. And you cried on the phone with Karen. And you cried in the shower, and in the nursery that had two un-assembled crib boxes staring straight at you that acted like twin knives shot straight to your heart.

Sam didn’t.

He hugged you when he caught the tears on your face, and did his best explaining what had happened to the rest of his family when you couldn’t (you were going to pretend that Josh shifting towards Jake when the news broke and the tiniest brush of his hand against his twin’s didn’t make you cry, and that you left the room because your damn pregnancy bladder), but he didn’t cry.

Which was why when you caught him wiping his eyes, staring down at a Thing 1 and Thing 2 pajama set he was supposed to be repackaging for return, you didn’t say anything. His pain was there – you felt it in his breaths at night and saw it in his lingering glances to the nursery, and in the way he’d hugged his brothers so tightly after leaving Josh’s apartment one night when Jake and Josh had pulled you both in to talk over dinner.

Climbing onto the bed and making sure he knew you were there, you hugged him from behind, planting a kiss on his shoulder but not saying anything, and waited for him to speak on his own; he had to gather himself before he spoke.

“I know we weren’t expecting two. Hell, we weren’t even expecting one,” he said finally, sniffling and swiping at his tears again. “But I feel like shit.”

You sat your chin on his shoulder, looking down at the clothes in his hand. They were so fucking tiny. So empty. “Tell me about it,” you said softly. The guilt hadn’t set in until Sam first started showing his agony. It had gone away, eventually, after a few secret phone calls with the provided mental health care lines, but seeing him like this – it wasn’t something you would have wished on the devil himself.

“I…I just – growing up, seeing the bond that Jake and Josh had…I thought that they would have that, too,” he whispered, a waver still present in his voice. “And I was so damn happy for them because I didn’t. Even if I didn’t – don’t – feel left out, and I had Danny when I got a little older. It wasn’t the same.”

“It’s not going to be,” you responded. “But that’s…everything will be okay. Eventually.”

The sentiment wasn’t particularly comforting, but you thought, with the nature of the situation, nothing really would be. It was all you could do to get through it – taking everything at face value and accepting that nothing was really okay, and that you felt like falling apart when thinking about the babies, and that it was reasonable to grieve and hurt and exist in the pain without false positivity.

“We should keep them,” Sam said, turning his nose into your cheek and clutching the pajamas in his hands. “I want to keep them.”

The irony of the statement now in comparison to when you found out you were pregnant wasn’t lost on you, and sometimes you wondered if the pain was worth it. But looking at the baby clothes in Sam’s hand, the bump that kept you from pressing fully against him –

You knew it would be.

…

5.

“I swear I’ll give you the best orgasm of your life if you just get her this time,” Sam mumbled, rolling around in the sheets when you were once again awoken by your daughter’s cry from across the room.

The proposition was tempting, but you weren’t convinced, even in your bleary, sleep-deprived state. For good reason, too. “And who’s gonna watch the baby while you give me this impossibly better-than-sleep orgasm, hmm?” Silence from Sam’s end. “I pumped before bed; there’s milk in the fridge,” you finished smugly, settling back into the sheets. Normally, you’d be happy to take her, Sam, too, but it had been a rough week, and she’d woken up every hour for the past three nights – all you wanted was sleep.

“Shit,” Sam cursed defeatedly, throwing the sheets off. “Fuck, dammit, shit, hell…bologna,” he muttered, and you giggled at his choice of swear words sleepily. “You hush,” he said, but you could hear the small smile in his tone as he approached his screaming infant. “Come here, beautiful,” he groaned lovingly, and you heard the moment Sam shifted her to his shoulder, her cries muffled by his skin. “Don’t cry, you little monster, daddy’s here,” he consoled, “Let’s go get you all sorted out. Drink some milk, change some diapers, maybe look at the stars. The moon’s bright tonight.”

His murmurings faded down the hall, but you knew he’d still be talking to the infant on his shoulder as he always did. And laying there in the silence, exhausted as you were, you couldn’t fall back to sleep. There was still a lingering pain down below from giving birth, but not bad enough that you felt the need to take a painkiller. And your breasts were swollen, but not so much you wanted to go through the steps of pumping at this hour. No matter how badly you wanted to close your eyes and go back to sleep, your mind kept active and awake. So, with a big sigh and the preparation to get shit for it, you threw the covers back and padded out to where you thought the rest of your little family would be.

Sure enough, rocking on the back porch to the sounds of the city, Sam was feeding your daughter a bottle. Or trying to, at least.

“I’m sorry I don’t have boobs, little monster, but you have a perfectly good nipple right here. Please take it,” he begged, trying to keep the bottle at her mouth.

The little baby twisted and squirmed and started whining out more little upset sounds, though, and you said, “Want me to try? I have the boobs and the nipples.”

Sam looked back at you, trying to look unimpressed but failing to hide his relieved pleasure at your joining him. “Fine. If my nipple wasn’t enough, try hers, see if I care,” he sniffed, handing her over to your arms but lingering close by to see if she would latch.

And thankfully, she did.

Sam sighed in relief, stroking a piece of the growing hair your daughter had been born with out of her face. “Thanks for having the right boobs, I guess,” he joked softly.

You hummed in acknowledgement. “You’re welcome. Now about that orgasm tomorrow…”

He chuckled, “Oh, so now we’ll have time, huh?” He kissed you softly over the baby and you wrinkled your nose.

“Eventually. But I’ll hold you to it like a grudge, so don’t forget,” you warned playfully.

Looking down at your baby, Sam smiled. “Oh, I won’t. You deserve it.”

…

6.

“And then the big daddy monster ate allll the little monsters, rararararararar!”

Your daughter giggled maniacally from her bed as Sam pretended to eat her belly and hands, shrieking, “Mommy, mommy, help! Help!”

From your spot beside Sam, you pulled him back, grabbing him by his cheeks and sternly saying, “Hey, big daddy, you think she’s gonna get to sleep with this sorry excuse of a bedtime story?”

Sam scoffed as well as he could. “I’m just making sure our little monster stays in-line. If she doesn’t love me, she’ll fear me, right?”

“But I do love you, daddy!” the little girl sassed, too smart for her own good. Sam always said it was because he talked to her so much as a baby, and that’s why she had such a big vocabulary now at her young age. You always shot back that that’s why she had attitude as well.

A smile threatened to break your façade as Sam placed a gentle kiss to his baby’s hand, so small in his. “I know, beautiful. And daddy monster loves you, too.”

“And mommy monster,” you chimed in, nudging her chin with your finger, “so, so, so, so much.”

“One big, happy monster family,” Sam smiled, kissing the little girl’s forehead, and then yours.

It was hard to imagine your life if you’d made a different choice in the beginning, those years ago. Where you’d be. You liked to think you and Sam would still be together, but thoughts of ‘what if’ always brought about thoughts of the second little monster that left a hole in you and Sam’s hearts, so you tried not to think about it all too often, for self-preservation’s sake.

“Now, time for all the monsters to go to bed,” you sighed. “Good-night, little monster.”

“Nigh-night, mommy. Night-night, daddy,” she said in her little voice. “Riley said her mommy has her baby brother in her tummy at school,” she said, and you hid a smile at her inability to actually let you guys go to bed with just one good-night. These daycare stories happened more often than not, with your child’s inquisitive nature and propensity for story-telling.

“Oh yeah? Very cool,” you praised, glancing over at Sam, whose eyes were soft as he gazed at his daughter.

“Is there a baby brother in everybody’s belly?”

You laughed as Sam wiggled his brows at you, and you slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “No, sweetie. Only some mommies and daddies decide to put baby brothers or sisters there. But not everyone.”

Sam patted her on the leg over the blankets. “Why? Getting tired of being the only little monster around here?”

Your daughter shrugged. “I dunno.”

Shorter answers meant a child who was more tired than she wanted to let on, so you tugged Sam up. “Okay, well, we can talk about this more in the morning. I think you’re a little sleepy right now, baby.” She hummed, for once in agreement. “Nighty-night.”

Once good-nights had been traded once more, you and Sam shut her door quietly and retreated to your own room, thankfully already made up for bed so that you could just slide underneath the sheets.

“So…” Sam whispered once you got settled. “Are you tired of only having one little monster running around?”

His hesitation in the question was palpable, and your heart nearly stopped when his words registered and you realized what he was asking. “I – uhh…are you?”

“No fair, I asked first.”

The fear had you gripped by the throat, and you managed to croak out, “I – I don’t know.” Sam recoiled, obviously perceiving that as a rejection, but you hurried to say, “I just don’t know if I could go through with what we did when we – when we lost our other one,” you tried to explain, and Sam took your hand under the blankets. “And I know it’s not related, or it’s not particularly a huge concern, but – but it’s happened once and I don’t—”

“Shhhh,” Sam soothed, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s not like I have to have another kid right now…I just – I thought I’d introduce the idea.” But you could tell he was disappointed, and that made you feel guilty. He wouldn’t want you to be, you knew, but it wasn’t something you could control. The two of you laid there in the dark for a while longer, tangled together, as the gears turned in your head.

You loved your little monster so much. And as unprepared for parenthood as you were the first time around, your life now was something that you loved - having a family and being Sam. “I wouldn’t mind having another baby, Sam,” you said quietly, “but maybe we could also look into non-biological kids, too? Or surrogacy? Not that bio is off the table, but…options would be nice this time around. Decisions we can make together.”

Sam’s arms tightened around you and he kissed you tenderly. “Yes. God, yes. Any way you want to do it, sweetheart. We can–” an elated huff of laughter escaped his lips, “we can do that. Another one. Another one.”

He was practically vibrating with excitement now, having gone from 0-100 at your amended answer, and you laughed softly. “Don’t have to have another kid right now, huh?”

“Hey, at least I’m excited this time, right?” he reasoned with another kiss.

You snorted. At least there was that.

…

7.

“We might as well give her a rose for as much as these two have been fighting over her,” you said tiredly to Jita, who was watching the scene in front of her with poorly-contained, disappointed amusement. “It’s been a very dramatic episode of ‘The Uncle-orette’ over here.”

“You got to take her to the zoo for Jita’s birthday,” Josh said, trying to hug his niece tighter to himself. “So I get to be her date this time!”

Jake gently tried to pry Josh’s hands off – harsh on Josh, gentle on his niece. “Yeah, like, a year and a half ago! And you were her ‘Very Important Person’,” Jake mocked, “literally last month, so it’s my turn. Sweetheart, you want Uncle Jake to be your date, right?” he asked the little girl, whose smile was entirely too self-satisfied to exist on a six year old’s face.

“You don’t want mean Uncle Jake,” Josh whispered to her, and yelped softly when Jake kicked him in the shin. “See? Mean. Hurting Uncle Josh like that – but it would make me feel better if I was your date.”

The two men had been arguing on and off for the entire day. Once it had come to light that Sam wouldn’t make it back until two hours after the father-daughter dance the school was hosting ended due to a flight delay, to his absolute disappointment, alternate plans had to be concocted. Her twin uncles, however, were a different story altogether, jumping at the chance to spend more time with her.

You laughed at their shenanigans and took your daughter from the spat, not wanting her to get caught in this game of tug-of-war. “Stop trying to manipulate my daughter, you two,” you teased. “I don’t want her picking up any bad habits. Why don’t you just both go?”

All three of them shook their heads.

“I only have one ticket!” your daughter giggled with a shit-eating grin she inherited from her dad.

“I’m not sharing with him!” Josh pouted.

“And I’m not sharing with him, either!” Jake shot back.

You rolled your eyes so far up, you almost got dizzy. “Oh lord. And who here is the one in Kindergarten, again?”

“I am!” your little monster replied happily.

From out the window, you saw a familiar car drive up, and grinned sweetly at the twins. “But anyways, I don’t think either of you are going to be her chosen date.”

Jake and Josh stopped glaring at each other long enough to both complain to you, “What? Why not?” in a very whiny, very childish manner.

“Because she loves both of you,” you giggled, putting your daughter down in preemptive action, “but neither of you are ever going to beat out—”

“UNCLE DANNY!”

“Little Monster!”

You nodded and gestured to the dramatic reunion between the small girl and the big man, who swept her off her feet and hugged her just as tightly as she was hugging him.

“Dammit, I didn’t know he was gonna be here,” Josh said glumly.

And again, you laughed, slapping them both on the shoulders. “You thought that my daughter, president of the Danny Wagner fan club, wouldn’t take an opportunity to show her godfather off to all her little friends? Come on guys,” you said, trying to shake them out of their despair, “maybe with this next baby one of you will have a chance to be knighted ‘Favorite Uncle’.”

Jake sighed sadly. “Maybe. Cause we all know that it’s not happening with her.”

Danny loped over to where you were congregated. “So I hear I’m the little monster’s date to the dance? I’m flattered.”

Jake and Josh stuck out their tongues. Danny and the monster stuck theirs out right back.

...

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[pr41sethemoon]

Open Your Eyes | Josh Kiszka x Reader ☾

//: lord, I haven’t written in years. This came into my head this evening, and now it won’t go away. I’d pay an extreme amount to see Josh cover this song.

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: None, just a bunch of smiling and giggling. Fluffy shit.

| disclaimer: I know Josh is a real person. This is straight up Fanfiction. I do not know him personally. If there is any errors, I’m apologizing in advance.|

Based off this song here♡

        ☽☽☽

 The sounds of quiet laughter surrounds the dining room of this familiar cabin. You hadn’t seen Josh in almost 7 months due to him being on the road. You couldn’t be more proud of him, being able to live out his dreams. Seeing him happy always made you happy. Even though you kept in contact the whole time, it was still took a sort of toll on you both. This was the longest time you had gone without Josh being by your side, and you missed him so much.

 He missed you just as much.

 He promised that once he stepped foot back home, it was gonna be just you and him for a while. This cabin was his parents. He knew how much you loved it. His parents always offered to have you tag along with them on family vacations when you were younger. So many memories were built between, you, Josh, Jake, and Sam. It was a perfect spot, tucked away beyond the trees with a small river next to it. It was peaceful here, always feeling you up with warmth.

 As Jerry Butler’s “We Owe It to Ourselves” played softly in the background, both Josh and yourself cracking up at the dinner table. Josh had to set his wine glass down, leaning back in his chair trying to calm himself down. You shook your head as you watched him, another chuckle falling from your lips.

 “You’re wrong for that.” your tone was scolding but playful.

 “He had it coming to him.” Josh exclaims with a slight smirking as he tosses his napkin on his plate.

  “You need to play nice with Sam.” you say trying to sound a little more serious.

Josh tilts his head, giving you a look. Same smirk still plays on his lips “Don’t side with him, Y/N, he’s a brat and he deserved it.”

 You took the last sip of your own wine before standing up. You gather your plate, then walk over and take Josh’s as well.

 “Seriously?” left corner of lips quark upward.

 He gives you a quizzical look “Air out my embarrassing stories in an interview?” his eyebrow arches. “Ha, laxatives in your morning coffee for you mister.”

 “That is not the same thing.” you chuckle as you walk over to the sink.

 Josh follows right behind you with the wine glasses in his hands. “I didn’t even put that much, Y/N, he was fine after a few hours.”

 You never rolled your eyes so hard. This made the both of you laugh quietly.

 As you made yourself busy cleaning the remaining dishes from your dinner, Josh had just finished wiping down the table.He eases his way back into the kitchen, making his way toward you. He tosses the cloth onto the counter right beside you, slightly making you jump. You look to the cloth, then to Josh who was slightly swaying to the music. His lips pulled into a smile, bobbing his head, placing himself behind you to wrap his arms around your waist.  

You smile as well, as he starts to nuzzle his into the crook of your neck. This earned him a giggle from you, he knew that was your ticklish spot. He was making your bodies sway gently to the music. 

“Dinner was phenomenal baby.” he says softly before placing a kiss under your ear.

You hum as you continue back to the dishes, “Better than eating out all the time huh?” you joked. He complained about it so much on the road.

 “Ugh, so much better.” he says looking to you.

 Your smile going wider before you look at him, “You should pick another record.” 

 “We not feeling Mr. Butler?” he asks with an arched eyebrow as his arms loosen on you.

 You blow a raspberry, “He was on repeat when you were gone.”

 “Hmm, okay.” with that, he turns and heads toward living room.

 He leans down, opening the cabinet full of records. Pulling some out at random, he examines all the covers. “Well, what are you feeling mama?” he asks loud enough for you to hear him.

 “Surprise me.”

He nods to himself.

You finish up the rest of the dishes, you groan slightly at the water that had seeped onto your sweater. You grabbed a clean cloth, drying your hands, then to your sweater. Tossing the cloth back onto the counter, you straighten yourself up. It had been quiet for a while, and you just noticed. You began to walk toward the living room. Before you could even comment, soft words were suddenly sung through the cabin.

 “I see you, in a lonely place. How can you be so blind?”

Instantly, you felt your heart begin to swell at the words. This song was you and Josh’s song. The words flow through your ears, the harmony of Caldwell gives you satisfaction. Peeking into the living room, Josh stood by the record player with his eyes closed. The look on his face was complete peace. You felt the music go through you as it did for him. You step forward as you watch him carefully.

 “Josh.” voice hardly a whisper.

 He opens his eyes, his dark irises meet yours. He gives you a soft smile as he stretches his hand out to you. “Come here, baby.”

Your hand falls into his instantly. Josh pulls you close against his chest as he looks down at you. Your arms find their way around his neck, as his rest on the small of you back.Your fingers play with the soft curls at the nape of neck. A low hum falls from his lips, as he holds you tighter. Bodies softly swaying to the music. Your eye close, placing your head against the crook of his neck. His familiar sandalwood scent filling your senses.

 This was needed. The need to hold each other sent waves through your body.The love spilled out of both you. You didn’t want to let him go. 

“There are times, when you’ll need someone. I will be by your side.” 

Josh looks down at you, as your eyes open. The both of you with small smiles on your faces. “Oh darlin’ there is a light that shines, special for you and me.” Josh sang softly to you before nuzzling his nose against yours.  

You giggle quietly, which makes him smile more. You both getting lost in each others eyes. Both of you continuing to sway to the music, one of his hands caressing your back gently.   

“I love you, Y/N.” the sincerity laced in his voice made your heart throb. Your brows knit together with a look of admiration, “I love you too, baby.” you say softly. “I missed you so much.” 

His lips press together slightly, “I missed you too, honey.” with that, he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.  

Your hands moving to cup his face gently. The kiss deepening as he leans more into you. Josh’s hands then grab the backs of your legs. You yelp out in surprise, wrapping your legs around his waste. Your expression also filled with surprise causes him to laugh, which makes you laugh to.  

“Now, show me how much you missed me, mama.” He says softly.

[kdarling1-deactivated20221219]

The Anniversary Series | First Anniversary

Summary: Story 1 of the Anniversary Series

CW: MINORS DNI! 18+ only, please!! Seriously DO NOT INTERACT if you’re under 18!! Alcohol consumption, oral, m & f receiving, threesome behavior (NOT incest!), a lot of dirty talk, Jake&Danny for a second kind of, penetrative sex, thigh riding, rough sex, choking, voyeurism kind of, bondage, spitting, spit kink, overstimulation kind of, squirting. This is honestly the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. I think I got all the warnings, but please let me know if I missed any. 

Genre: Straight up smut. Also some fluff. But mostly smut.

Pairing: GVF & Female!Reader

A/N: I graduated college and promised myself I’d write the filthiest smut I could imagine. Greatly inspired by the wonderful and magical @hyperfixated-gvf . Please check out their Groupie!AU if you haven’t already!! Enjoy!!! 

Word Count: 6.5k

“Keep your eyes closed, baby.” Josh whispered, his hands covering your eyes as he guided you through the hallway to your acclaimed anniversary surprise. 

He’d been antsy all day, anticipating giving you your presents. Your very first gift had been breakfast in bed. He had taken you to your shared favorite cafe for lunch, and for dinner, the two of you had cooked up a delicious meal that had consisted of both of your favorite foods. 

Once you’d finished eating, Josh had pulled a small, wrapped box for you to open. Inside was a delicate set of lingerie in your favorite color. You had smirked as you walked to the bathroom to change into the lingerie and freshen up. Once you were finished doing so, you exited the bathroom, finding Josh standing outside the door, waiting to take you to find your final surprise gift for the evening.

You walked into your master bedroom, smelling the faint smell of candles and hearing a soft record playing out in the corner of your room. Josh removed his hands from your eyes, and you opened them, growing accustomed to the lighting. As you did so, you noted three figures of varying sizes sitting anxiously on the bench at the end of your bed. 

You looked back at Josh, shocked. He smirked at you. “I wanted to give you one of your deepest desires for our anniversary baby.” he said, his tone husky. 

“Josh-” you started, trying to find your words; your brain feeling empty at the genuine shock you felt seeing his brothers and best friend in your bedroom. “It’s our anniversary, baby.” you stated plainly. 

Josh leaned in, his warm breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine. “Trust me, you’ll still be screaming my name by the end of the night.” 

- 

Two conversations had happened that brought you and Josh to this moment.

The first took place after a particularly wild night on the road. You’d been touring with Josh and the boys for a while, and Josh had taken you home after a night of celebrating a great show. 

The next morning, while you were getting ready, the boys pulled Josh aside. The three of them looked uncomfortable after having to confront Josh about the subject matter at all. 

Jake started. 

“Look um,” he paused, running his hands through his long hair, trying to find his words. 

Sammy, ever the eloquent one, stepped in. “We kept hearing you two all night. It’s getting kind of ridiculous and we’re tired of hearing her scream your name all night.” Sam stated, his face burning with embarrassment and envy. 

Josh glared at the three of them for a moment before his face turned up into a smirk. “You’re just jealous that she’s not screaming YOUR name.” Josh pointed out, feeling triumphant. 

Danny and Jake looked at their shoes, feeling embarrassed by the confrontation. Sammy, however, had lost his filter entirely. 

“Obviously!” he shouted. “You found arguably the world’s hottest girlfriend and we just have to listen to you two all night and then watch her prance around in her cute little outfits like we can’t hear the shit you two do all night? I can’t take it anymore, Josh!” Sammy exclaimed, his voice rising in decibels as he did so. 

Josh’s smirk remained on his face. He looked to the other two silent members, motioning with his hand between the two of them. “And do the two of you feel the same way?” he asked deviously. 

Danny looked up, his face alight in embarrassment, nodding curtly before looking back down at his shoes as if he was a scolded little boy. Jake, however, held Josh’s gaze. It was as if they were communicating without saying a word. 

Josh gave a curt nod to the three of them, indicating that their conversation was over. There were no ‘incidents’ after that, and it had seemed as if Josh had dropped it completely. 

The second conversation had happened after a night where you and Josh had gotten too drunk on home-made cocktails, dancing around the house to records and playing board games with made up rules. Josh giggled, a memory entering the forefront of his brain. 

You chuckled along with him, feeling the effects of the alcohol. “What’s funny?” you inquired, moving your chess piece to knock over his. 

He looked up at you, a smirk playing on his face. 

“Member a few months ago when you came on the last leg of the tour with us?” he asked, taking two of your chess pieces off of the board entirely. 

You nodded, moving your piece into his territory. 

“Well, the boys pulled me aside and told me to stop fucking you so loudly.” he told you plainly. 

You balked, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” you whispered, burying your head in your hands. Josh chuckled at you, poking at your hands to get you to remove them from your face. 

“That’s not the funny part,” he started. “The funny part is, they all practically told me they wished it was them fucking you!” he said, snorting. 

You were speechless. You had no idea the other boys felt that way, and you suddenly felt a sense of confidence wash over you. 

“Oh really? Like a ‘you all take turns on me’ situation?” you asked. “That would be pretty hot.” you admitted, shifting positions to examine the chess board once more. 

The seed was planted in Josh’s head after that, and he couldn’t get it out of his mind. 

You and Josh had an extremely healthy relationship. The two of you were very secure in your relationship, and you knew at the end of the day, he was all yours, and you were all his. He also knew that showing the other boys what they could have would be incredibly sexy. You WERE all his. That meant that even if each of his brothers took a turn to experience the amazing wonders that you could show them for one night, he’d still have you for the rest of his life to show you those same amazing wonders every night. He was proud to have a partner as stunning, sexy, intelligent, and radiant as you, and he felt excited to show his best friends just how amazing you really were. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. 

That’s why, on the night of your first anniversary, he would indulge in one of your deepest, darkest fantasies, and he would love every second of it. 

- 

You turned to him, nervous with anticipation. “Josh, are you sure?” you asked, hesitation and nervousness ringing through your voice. He nodded. His eyes were filled with a hunger you had yet to see before, and suddenly, you felt that same fiery confidence flood through your body. You gave his hand a squeeze, and pressed a loving kiss to Josh’s soft lips before you turned to the boys once again. Putting your hands on your hips, and showing off your amazing figure and stunning lingerie, you smirked. “Alright, who’s going first then?”

The three gentlemen looked at you, stunned into silence, which was a first. You turned to Josh, a glint in your eye as you did so. “Maybe you should pick the first contender, my love.” you said, reaching up to stroke Josh’s face. He fluttered his eyes closed for a moment, reveling in your touch, before opening them again. He looked at the men filling the room, looked at you once more, and then spoke so quietly you could barely hear him. “Jake.”

You smirked. You had to admit, from the very inception of your relationship, you’d been curious about how Jake compared to his twin. Josh stunned you in every way imaginable when it came to your relationship, and you wondered just how well Jake held up. 

You grabbed Josh’s face with your hands, kissing him passionately. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him. He pulled away first, smacking your ass lightly. “I love you, my sexy girl.” he teased, watching as you slowly turned to face the men once more. 

Jake stood from the bench first, his hands nervously fisted at his sides. You sauntered up to the three of them, grabbing Jake and pulling him closer to you. You heard shuffling behind you as Josh made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs that rested in your grandiose bedroom. You inhaled deeply, preparing for what was to come next. Danny and Sam quickly removed themselves from the situation, finding their own seating arrangements, and the next thing you knew it was just you and Jake. 

“So Jakey,” you teased, running your finger from the top of his chest to his naval. “What’s first?”

He found some confidence at your touch, and his fisted fingers relaxed as he grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him. He pressed his lips to yours and he moaned into the kiss as your soft lips met his. One of his secret favorite things about you was your sweet mouth, and tasting you was almost good enough to bring him to orgasm just like that. 

Your tongue coaxed his mouth open, furthering the kiss, and you heard him whimper again as your tongues tangled together. You pulled your lips apart, and Jake reached up, trying to pull your head toward him again. You resisted. “Patience, Jakey. I want to taste you.” you whispered. He groaned, letting you nip at his neck, and shuddering as you bit at the soft skin gently. You moved to kiss down his neck, biting once more at his clavicle, and then licking it to soothe the love bite you’d left. You popped open the few buttons holding his shirt together, and licked down his abs, savoring his salty taste. He blew out a quivering breath and you smirked, your confidence growing even more. 

You moved your fingers down to the button on his pants, and sank down to your knees, flicking open his jeans and sliding them down his ankles. You palmed at him beneath his boxers and he let out another low groan, bucking his hips up into your hand, silently begging you for more. 

You pulled his boxers down slowly, letting his erect member bounce out, leaking and ready for your touch. You smirked again, kitten licking the tip and eliciting yet another whiny moan from Jake’s lips. “So needy for me, Jakey.” you whispered teasingly as you stroked him slowly with his hand, using his own precum to allow for some lubrication. “Please,” he whimpered, desperate for your warm, wet mouth. 

You looked up at Jake through your lashes, and he made eye contact with you, his hips involuntarily bucking harder at the sight of you beneath him. Slowly and lewdly, you pushed his hardened cock into your mouth. He knew he wouldn’t last long, and he knew he’d been right about how pretty your lips looked wrapped around him like this. He allowed you to set the pace for a moment before his excitement got the best of him. His fingers tangled into your hair and he began setting his own pace, effectively fucking into your mouth. You looked up at him between your eyelashes as you furiously devoured every inch of him slipping in and out of your mouth. 

He looked down at you, running his fingers across your cheeks, spreading the tears that had sprung to your eyes as you gagged around him again and again. “So pretty.” he moaned out. “So pretty like this,” he said, as if his thoughts were not his own. Then, in a moment that surprised everyone, he looked up, making eye contact with Josh as Josh watched his twin fuck your mouth deliciously. “Josh,” Jake breathed, “She has the prettiest mouth. Feels so fucking good.” he said, his voice strained and fucked out. 

Josh smiled proudly, humming in agreement and palming himself at the sight of you on your knees for someone else. 

You felt someone come kneel behind you, placing their strong arms around your chest and abdomen. “Josh sent me over here to make you feel good baby. Is that okay?” Danny asked, his hand on your abdomen snaking down to your drenched pussy. 

You moaned at the touch, growing wetter at the thoughtfulness of Josh as he allowed you to be used by his best friends and brothers. 

“Fuck,” Jake choked out, watching as Danny swirled his fingers softly around your clit. “I’m not going to last much longer, angel.” he breathed, his voice completely strained. 

You moaned again as Danny continued his gentle attack on your clit, trying to bring you as much pleasure as you became wetter and wetter. Your moan spurred Jake on, and as his hips stuttered, he came hot and hard down your throat. You swallowed every last ounce of him, sucking harshly at his head as he pulled himself out of you slowly. Proudly, you opened your mouth, looking up at him to show him that you’d swallowed everything. He gave you a fucked out smile and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “Such a good girl. Josh was right, you’re so, so good.” he whispered, sitting down on the bench at the end of your bed. 

In one swift movement, Danny had moved you from your kneeling position to a spot on the floor, comfortably lain against your fluffy rug. 

He moved smoothly up your body, immediately pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. Danny kissed differently than Jake or Josh, and you hummed softly at the feeling of his lips on yours. He pulled away, brushing each of your cheeks to remove any remaining tears from Jake’s brutal attack on your mouth. He kissed his way down your body, looking up at you from behind his eyelashes, batting his pretty eyes as if asking permission to move any further. You smiled at him, resting your hands in his hair in a silent move to allow him to progress. He hummed softly at you as his lips found your clit, pressing a gentle kiss to the tender bud. You whimpered, the slightest of touches against your clit sending tingles down your spine. “Danny,” you moaned quietly, a prayer whispered between just the two of you. 

Danny moaned, his name coming from your mouth in this way making him grow ever harder. “So pretty when you say my name like that, sweet angel.” he whispered in return, running his hands up your thighs as he continued softly licking at your center. 

You felt a presence behind you as Jake knelt next to you, seemingly having gathered himself to join in on the festivities once more. His hands came in contact with your chest, lightly palming at your soft skin as Danny continued to lick sweetly at you. You moaned again, the gentle-ness of their behavior so delectable you could positively fall apart. 

“I think she likes the both of us touching her, Danny. What do you think, should we make her cum?” Jake spoke softly, teasing you deliciously as he pulled harshly at your hardened nipples. 

Danny responded by inserting two of his fingers into you, barely prodding at your entrance. Still, the touch had you arching your back from the soft rug as he curled his fingers just right. You weren’t sure who’s name to moan, instead, you let a “fuck!” tear through your throat as Danny kitten licked you just right, making the fire in your belly build rapidly. 

Jake watched with rapt attention as Danny moved his fingers in and out of you. Your slick center made the most pornographic noises, causing you to grow even wetter. 

“I bet she tastes so sweet, Danny. Let me taste her.” Jake all but groaned out. 

Danny looked up at Jake from beneath his eyelashes as he continued to lick you. He pressed his fingers further into your center before pulling them out and offering them to Jake. Jake scooched forward, taking Danny’s drenched fingers into his mouth, moaning around them. 

You felt yourself grow even wetter at the sight, your own slick threatening to spill down your thighs. 

Jake released Danny’s fingers with a lewd ‘pop’ sound.

“You taste so fucking good, angel. I could lick you up for the rest of my life and never get tired of your taste.” he whispered, pressing a wet kiss to your lips. 

Danny continued his beautiful assault on your center as Jake returned to palming at your breasts. His left hand came up to your throat, wrapping around gently, just enough to add a little bit of pressure. Another guttural moan ripped through you at their simultaneous touch. “Are you gonna cum for us, pretty angel?” Jake whispered roughly. 

“Cum for them, baby.” you heard Josh say. “Show them how pretty you are when you cum.” 

Josh’s words grounded you, and added just enough fire to the flame, allowing your body to erupt in pleasure. You arched off the floor once more, Danny’s hands on your hips keeping you steady as he licked you and slowed his fingers to help you ride through your orgasm. 

You opened your eyes, not realizing you had closed them, the stars behind your eyes quickly fading as you adjusted to the low light in the room. Jake had sat back, waiting for you to ride out your orgasm. Danny was still below you, his fingers gently pushing in and out of you, making you feel just the slightest bit over sensitive in the most delectable way. 

You looked down at him, his face flushed pink, his lips wet with your slick. 

“Do you want to fuck me, Danny?” you asked, your sultry tone back as you reached for him to crawl up your body. 

Danny groaned quietly, wanting nothing more. “Please,” was all he was able to choke out as he moved to line himself up with your center. 

You moaned as he entered you, the feeling of him inside of you larger than you could have imagined. “Danny, you feel so good baby.” you told him, gripping his biceps as he began to move inside you. He groaned again, beginning to push into you at a quicker pace. 

You felt Jake shift behind you once more, his face now inched from yours as Danny sat back on his knees to keep fucking into you. Jake smirked at you, reaching out to touch a hand to your face. “So pretty, angel. So pretty when you’re getting fucked so good. It was so nice of Josh to share you, pretty girl.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, his kiss feeling so similar to Josh’s while still remaining somehow, so uniquely Jake. You moaned into his mouth as Danny hit a particular spot inside of you. Jake pulled away, moving his hand to your neck once more, squeezing a little harder this time. “Admit it though, angel. You wanted us to destroy you. You liked the idea of us all ruining you. You’re a little cock slut for us and you aren’t even ashamed.” he whispered this just to you, but you knew everyone else in the room heard it. Your face flushed furiously, and you balked, not able to answer his question. A rush of shame filled your belly, but before Jake could press further, Josh spoke up once more. “Back the fuck up, Jake.” he spoke. It was quiet, but it was demanding enough that Jake relinquished his hold on your neck, and didn’t press his accusation again. 

Danny moved to rest on his elbows, his face now so close to yours, his warm breaths cascading across your face as he continued to fuck into you deliciously. “You feel so good, baby.” he whispered; this time, it really was a secret just for the two of you, and you were grateful for Danny’s kindness as you navigated the very tricky situation you had found yourself in. 

As an apology, Jake’s hands slithered across your chest. You flinched away at first, but he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t worry angel, I just want to make you feel good this time.” he promised, snaking his hands down to circle your clit softly. His fingers and Danny’s strokes had you quickly falling apart once more. 

“I’m gonna - “ you choked out before your orgasm quickly wracked through your body. Your moans the loudest they’d been the whole night. 

“Such a good girl for us, angel.” Jake whispered, removing his hand slowly from your center. Danny nodded in agreement. “So good for us baby. You feel so good around me.” he said, frantically falling apart as you squeezed around him. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where do you want me?” Danny rushed out, his hips faltering. 

“On my belly, please Danny. I wanna see how handsome you look when you’re coming all over me.” 

He groaned out once more, pumping, once, twice, and then pulling out as he came, white hot streaks bursting across your tanned stomach. As he calmed his breathing, he collapsed next to you. Your fingers moved to swirl his cum that was quickly drying on your stomach. You stuck your fingers in your mouth, tasting him. “Taste so good, Danny.”

You heard Jake groan behind you as you did this, and you turned your head to look at him. “Do you want a taste too, Jakey?” you asked. His eyes were blown wide with lust and he nodded his head once, a blush rising to his cheeks. 

You swirled your fingers in Danny’s cum once more, lifting your hand to Jake’s mouth. His tongue swirled across your fingers, licking up every last drop of Danny from them. 

As Jake released your fingers, you stroked his cheek, his own saliva spreading across the soft skin. 

“Thank you.” you told him, holding eye contact, letting him know you were grateful for making you feel so good. 

You turned your attention to Danny, thanking him as well. He moved to stand up, helping you to do the same. 

As the two boys found their own seats, Josh stood, walking up to you and shielding your body from the other gentlemen. 

“Are you still doing okay?” he asked. “If you want to stop, we can.” he assured you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms gently. 

You shook your head. “I’m having fun, Joshy. Promise.” you started. “But I want you, baby. I want you so bad.” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his mouth. 

“I know, baby. It’s so sexy to see you moaning and being such a good girl for them, but I’ll let them know who’s name you scream the loudest by the end of the night, I promise.” he said, pressing one more chaste kiss to your lips before backing away. ‘I love you’ he mouthed silently as he sat back down in the arm chair. 

You smiled at him before turning to Sam. You placed your hands on your hips, “You ready, Sammy boy?” you taunted, sauntering over to the bed for the first time all evening. 

He chuckled darkly as he stood up. “I”m ready, pretty girl. I don’t think you are though.” he said. 

He sauntered up to you, sitting down on the bed with you. “If you need to stop, you tap me three times or you say ‘red’, I want to ruin you, pretty girl.” he told you, not skipping a beat. 

You weren’t expecting such a domineering personality from Sam straight out of the gate, and his words had effectively shocked you into a stupor. You nodded dumbly, hoping that would be a good enough response for him.

He tusked and shook his head, grabbing your chin roughly between his fingertips. “I need words, pretty girl, or this whole thing is over.”

“Yes, Sammy. I’ll be good, I promise.” 

He smirked at your words, turning his head just barely to speak to your boyfriend. “She really is such a good girl, Joshy. It’s a shame you don’t share her more often.” 

His condescending tone and his desire to use you more than once had you wetter than you expected, and you rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension. 

Sammy pulled away, looking at you in faux pity. “Poor girl. Do you want to come for me already?” he mocked. 

“Yes,” you choked out, desperate for any sort of friction. He sat back, his legs dangling off the bed. He beckoned to you expectantly, and you quickly got up from the bed and stood before him. 

“You can ride my thigh, and maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you make a mess of yourself all over me. How’s that for you?” 

You whimpered, pouting at his response. 

He pulled you roughly onto his lap, and you quickly straddled his thigh like he’d asked. 

“Don’t be a spoiled brat. You’ll take what I give you and you’ll like it.” he said gruffly. 

“Yes, Sammy.” you choked out, beginning to rub yourself on his thigh. 

You felt pathetic, a whimpering little mess as you quickly fell apart on Sam’s leg. You closed your eyes, dropping your head as you continued to ride  Sam’s thigh. 

Sam tsked at you once again, wrapping his fingers around your neck and causing you to flash your eyes open, looking at him. 

“You’ll keep your eyes open, and you’ll keep your eyes on me while you cum all over my thigh like the little slut you are.” he commanded. “You think you can flaunt yourself in front of all of us, walking around in your skimpy little outfits, moaning the night away while you two fuck, and just think that we won’t want you like this? I don’t think so. I’ve thought about this for way too long, and you’re going to be a good girl for me and cum when I tell you to, and keep your eyes open. Do you understand?”

You whimpered, feeling yourself fall rapidly close to yet another orgasm. 

“Sammy, I’m gonna -” you choked out. 

He pulled on your hair, eliciting a filthy moan to erupt from your throat. 

“Good,” he said. “Make a mess of my leg. You know you want to.” he taunted; and just like that, you were rapidly falling over the edge as you rode Sammy’s thigh to completion. 

He pushed you off the second you came back down to earth, and he rapidly began removing his clothes. Instinctively, your fingers began toying with your nipples, eliciting a soft moan from your throat. Sam looked up at you, his fingers on his belt. “Well that simply won’t do.” he muttered, removing his belt. 

He turned toward you, towering over you as you stood looking up at him. “Wrists together, naughty girl.” he commanded. 

Without thinking, you moved your arms, bringing your wrists together in front of yourself, wanting to present yourself pretty for Sam. He made quick work of securing them together with his belt, ensuring you wouldn’t be removing yourself from the restraints. 

He pushed you to your knees as he removed the last of his clothing, standing in front of you with his hardened cock pulsing with desire. He tapped your lips with it, his precum coating your top lip. You opened up obediently, and he pushed into the back of your throat immediately. 

Instinctively, your hands came up to grasp him, and the sight of your bound hands stroking him while he fucked into your mouth might have made Sam finish right then and there if he didn’t have other plans for you. 

He pushed his fingers into your hair, rapidly fucking into your mouth and making tears fall from your eyes. You gagged repeatedly around him, causing Sam to let out a groan. Saliva fell from your lips as he fucked your mouth aggressively. His roughness caused another bout of wetness between your legs, and you felt your own desire dripping down your thighs. Rubbing them together once again for some desired friction. 

“Aw, does the pretty little slut want to come again? Already?” Sam asked mockingly. You nodded your head yes, causing his cock to hit your gag reflex, a loud gag sounding from you as you choked him down. 

He fucked into your mouth harder for a moment before he stopped, grabbing your bound wrists and pulled you to stand up. He moved you to the edge of the bed, grabbing your legs and spreading them wide. He entered you swiftly, giving you almost no time to get used to his length. 

He continued the same brutal pace he had set while he was fucking your mouth. Your hands went down to relieve your aching bundle of nerves, only for Sam to swat them away. 

“I don’t think so, princess.” he teased, continuing to fuck into you without actually touching you. You whined. “Sammy, please.”

He looked at you for a moment, a smirk playing across his lips. “Beg for it. Beg me to make you cum.” he demanded. 

You shook your head no, an act of defiance you didn’t think you had in you. 

His smirk grew wider. “Come on, princess. Beg me to touch you.” he said tauntingly, his fingers ghosting over your center just briefly. 

Josh spoke up again. “It’s okay baby. Beg him. Show him how good of a girl you can be.” 

With Josh’s permission, and your ache in your belly growing stronger by the second, you broke down, begging Sammy for anything he would offer you. 

“Please, Sammy. Please touch me. I want to cum for you. Let me show you how pretty I am when I do. I’ll be so pretty and so good, I promise. Please, just please touch me and make me cum, Sammy. Please.” 

He smirked, satisfied with your begging. His talented fingers pressed firmly against your cilt, drawing delicious circles across your aching bundle of nerves. 

His relentless pace and skilled fingers had you quickly falling over the edge. “Sammy, I’m gonna come. Please, please, please let me come Sammy. Please.” you begged once more. 

His hips faltered, your begging bringing him closer to the edge. “Come for me, pretty girl.” he huffed, and you crashed over the edge once more. The stars behind your eyes shooting, feeling like fireworks were erupting in your belly, down your legs, and through your toes. You twitched as he continued rubbing your clit, and your bound hands reached down to stop him. 

“Come for me, Sammy.” you moaned, his lengthy cock filling you up deliciously as you edged toward overstimulation once more. 

His hips faltered, and he quickly pulled out of you, scampering up the bed as he stroked himself, shooting hot ropes of cum across your breasts. He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily and stroking your hair gently. 

“So pretty.” he whispered. “So sexy.”

You hummed, enjoying the quiet moment with Sammy. 

You heard the familiar footsteps of your lover draw nearer, and Sam sat up, undoing the restraints on your wrist as Josh cleaned up your chest from the mess his brother had made. You squeezed Sam’s hand as he finished removing his belt from your wrists. He smiled at you as he retreated. 

Josh placed a soft kiss on your sweaty forehead as you continued to regain your strength. 

“Can you handle one more round with me, baby?”

You smiled, stroking his hair with your sore hands. “I’ve been waiting all night.” you admitted. 

He grinned at you lovingly. “I’m going to ruin you, my love.” he said, pressing a fiery kiss to your lips before moving to quickly undress himself. 

He moved you to the center of the bed, scooting down to place himself between your legs. He kissed at your clit gently, allowing you to grow accustomed to his lips on your center once more. You moaned softly, spurring him on. He licked a stripe up your center, relishing in your sweet taste. “Taste so good, my love,” he whispered.

He moved up to your lips again. “Taste yourself on me, baby.” he whispered, licking into your mouth in a wet, hot kiss. He swallowed a loud moan that escaped from your lips as he continued to engulf your mouth in sweet kisses. 

He pulled away, gripping your cheeks between his fingers. “Open up for me.” he demanded. You complied easily, opening your mouth wide and sticking out your tongue obediently. He hummed, proud of you, and happy that you could reach each other so well, even in the heat of the moment. 

He puckered his lips, spitting into your mouth. His fingers didn’t move from their grip on your cheeks. “Hold it.” he commanded. 

He watched proudly as you nodded, keeping his spit pooled in your mouth. After a moment of admiration, he stuck the fingers of his unoccupied hand in your mouth, and you wrapped your lips around them, covering his fingers in his own spit. He pulled them out of your mouth with a loud pop, and slipped the soaked digits down beneath your bodies, inserting two digits into your center immediately. 

You moaned, and cried out his name in ecstasy. He grinned. “That’s right baby. Let them know who’s making you feel this good. They could never make you feel good like I do, could they, baby?” he whispered teasingly, moving down your body to kitten lick at your clit. 

“No, Josh, baby. No one makes you feel good like you do.” you managed to choke out between lewd moans. 

If you’d thought about it for even a moment, you’d probably be embarrassed at the noises you were making. Between feeling the slightest bit of overstimulation, your overload of orgasms, and Josh knowing exactly how to make you feel amazing, you couldn’t help the pornagraphic cries that left your mouth. 

Quickly, you felt yet another impending orgasm approaching.

“Josh, baby. I’m gonna cum.” you warned him. He moaned in response, the vibrations shooting directly to your core. You came hard around his fingers, this one feeling more powerful than any of the others you’d experienced so far. 

“So good for me.” Josh praised as he moved back up your body. “Are you gonna let me fuck you baby? Gonna take me so good?” he asked, moving to line himself up with your entrance. 

Josh always loved watching you feel good. Your pleasure was quite possibly one of his biggest turn ons. Tonight had made him exceptionally turned on, watching you come undone over and over again. His cock was impossibly hard, and he throbbed as he pushed up against your entrance. 

“Yes please, my love. Fuck me so good. I need you.” you said, grabbing his biceps and squeezing as he pushed into you. 

“Fuck,” he moaned out, beginning a slow and deliberate pace inside you. “Still so tight for me, baby. It’s like this pretty pussy was made just for me.” he praised you, causing wetness to grow. 

“You like it when I talk sweet to you baby? Like when I tell you how much of a good girl you are? How pretty your sweet little cunt is for me?” 

You moaned, his words making you impossibly wetter, throbbing around his hard cock. 

He moaned with you at this. “Yeah, my sweet girl likes it when I tell her how good she is. Makes her pretty little pussy squeeze me so good.” he said between thrusts. 

He moved his fingers down to your center, circling your clit in the perfect way that only Josh could. Despite the others making you feel good, no one knew your body like Josh; knew exactly how to make you feel good like he did. Your heart swelled, so grateful for someone who had gotten to know you on every level, who trusted you enough to let the events of the night transpire, who knew that you only ever really wanted him, no matter what. 

Your lips trembled, and another moan ripped through you as your emotions flooded you. “Josh,” you moaned, squeezing around him once more. 

“Be my good girl and come for me. Finish all over my cock baby. Make me feel so good.” 

With one last swirl of his fingers, and his dirty words lighting your fire once more, you came hard around Josh as he pounded into you. 

You screamed his name at the top of your lungs, your orgasm washing over you harder than you’d ever experienced. You were trembling and shaking as you came down, and Josh continued his delicious assault against your clit, overstimulation fully taking over your brain. 

“Josh,” you choked out, barely able to speak. 

He continued pounding into you, and he looked at you with love in his eyes. “Trust me baby, okay? I want to make you feel so good. Let go for me again. I know you can do it.” he encouraged, swirling his fingers gently over you. 

He reached his mouth down to circle around your nipple, biting at the hardened nub. The change in angles allowed him to hit that delicious spot inside of you, and within seconds, you felt a searing, hot, white pleasure come over you. 

When you opened your eyes, Josh was staring at you in amazement. “You just squirted so good for me baby. I knew you could do it. You’re my good girl!” he praised, his hips stuttering. 

You felt the slick between the two of you, drenching the sheets below you. “Fuck, baby.” Josh choked out. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. I want to watch my cum drip out of you. Fuck, I love you so much.”

You reached up to his face, your post-orgasm haze not allowing you to do much else. You gently stroked his cheek, showing him how much you loved him as well. 

With a few more gentle strokes, Josh was finishing inside you, moaning your name as he came down from his own high.

He pulled out, collapsing next to you. You both watched in wonder as his cum and yours dripped down out of you. You closed your eyes, your exhaustion finally taking over. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweet girl. Then you can go to sleep. I promise.” Josh whispered. 

He stood you up, helping you stay put as your legs wobbled beneath you. “Say bye to the boys.” he joked, and you turned your head, smiling sweetly at the three of them who were looking at you like you were an angel on earth. 

“Bye boys.” you said, waving tauntingly at the three of them as they sauntered out of the room. 

Josh got you into the shower, holding you up and washing you clean as you leaned against the shower tile. 

He patted you dry after you’d cleaned up and rubbed lotion over your body to make sure you stayed moisturized. 

He pulled you under the clean sheets he’d changed out, and pulled you close to him, hugging you tightly. 

“I love you sweet girl. You are my one love forever. Happy Anniversary.” he whispered, sharing the secret just between the two of you, despite everyone else being gone. 

“I love you too, Josh. Happy Anniversary.” you told him, snuggling closer into his chest as you quickly drifted off to sleep. 

[stardustgreta]

— TWO’S COMPANY | jake kiszka

summary: the classic one bed trope for this request

genre: enemies to lovers / one bed trope

chapter warnings: explicit sexual content! dirty talk, cursing, pining | word count: 4k

masterlist

The frantic sounds of rain pounding the window panes woke you up in a hurry, the sound of the window wipers swishing back and forth frantically made you slip out of your bunk and toward the front of the bus. Your eyes had trouble adjusting as you worked to open them all the way, your bare feet slapping against the cold wood as you made your way toward the bus driver.

“Hey, everything alright?” You asked him in an almost whisper, peeking over his shoulder and widening your eyes at the sight. The rain casted a dark shadow over the sky, the rain making it nearly impossible to see anything within a few miles. He shook his head no before turning the speed up on the windshield wipers.

“I’ve gotta pull into the small motel here, don’t wanna take the risk.” He spoke in a low southern accent, and you nodded - agreeing that it was better to stay somewhere for the night.

You made quick work of putting a few toiletries into a bookbag and slinging it over your shoulder, the bus coming to a full stop after a few minutes and the engine sputtering off. You groaned at the rain as you ran off the bus, trying to get under the large awning before getting completely soaked - but much to your dismay the weather became too much to hide from, your clothes already starting to stick to your skin as you stood in front of the small motel office desk. There was little to no vacancy, but they were able to get you three rooms and you were glad that you were given a solo key - not having to share with any of the guys. Or so you thought.

After walking down the dimly lit walkway and passing by all of the other rooms, you came to a stop at the assigned door and before you could make your way inside, there was a presence over your shoulder. Turning around to see who it was, Jake came into frame - his hair damp and the ends dripping just slightly, his book bag slung over one shoulder while he held a key in his other.

“Can I help you with something?” You furrowed a brow.

It wasn’t necessarily a hate thing for you, but it was most certainly a strong dislike. You hated, strongly disliked his arrogance and his faux suede, and you hated - strongly disliked, just how suave he thought he was with every girl he laid eyes on. So out of all the boys, he was the one you stood as far away from as possible at every gathering or function, and over the years you had both forgotten about the attempt to feign civil acquaintance, instead opting for outwardly and obnoxiously arguing despite there being others in the room, or making snide comments to each other without mumbling them under your breaths.

“Uh, yeah. You can open the door to my room.” He smirked, reaching his arm out to the knob before you smacked it away, his hand flinching back and his face contorting into one of feigned pain.

“Your room? I know you’re not wearing your glasses Jake but this is my room.” You held up the key you had been given at the office, the number matching the one that was plastered in black, fading letters at the door. Before you could claim victory, he held up a similar key that read the same numbers as yours, your lips parting to further argue.

“Well, you should go back and ask for another key, another room. Good luck.” You tried once more to make your way inside but you were stopped by the same hand, halting the door knob.

“I don’t think so. If it bothers you so much, you should go ask for another room, sweetheart.” His voice inched closer toward your ear, sending small chills down your spine. This time, you swatted his hand from the doorknob and pushed your way in.

“Whoops! Sorry, looks like this one is officially taken.” You gave a smile and closed the door, locking it and letting out the sigh you didn’t know you had been holding in. The sound of the lock flicking open made you turn around, somehow in the escapade you had forgotten that, he too had a key.

“Yeah. I’m not sure why you thought that was going to work?” He closed the door behind him, the once loud rain quieting into a low rumble.

You couldn’t help but groan, moving toward the bed and tossing two of the harder than usual pillows onto the floor, and letting a thin cover accompany it. He looked at you curiously as he kicked off his shoes at the door, moving his book bag closer toward the bed.

“We can share a room, but I’ve made a place for you on the floor. Should be comfy enough!” You gave another passive aggressive smile, and all he gave in response was a nod - you were surprised at how easily he accepted defeat.

Without a word, you walked toward the bathroom with your bookbag to ready yourself, once again, for bed. After a few minutes you made your way back out, shutting the light off behind you. To your dismay, there he lay - on the bed, with an arm tucked behind his head, and the other splayed on his stomach, seemingly losing his shirt on the journey to bed.

“I’m sorry. What are you doing?” You inched closer, trying not to let your eyes wander.

“Oh, did you think I was actually going to sleep on the floor?” He kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, not bothering to glance over at you.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Jake.” You stood at the foot of the bed now, your arms crossed against your chest when he finally looked down from whatever interested him about the ceiling.

“You’re more than welcome to take the spot on the floor. Look, it's already set up for you.” He gave another smug smirk, one you wanted so desperately to smack off his face.

You shook your head no, deciding that you weren’t going to give up the comfort of a bed solely because you had to share it with someone you lacked taste for. “Can’t believe I’m stuck here with you.” You muttered immaturely under your breath, a huff of a laugh coming from the occupied side of the bed.

Making your way to the opposite side, you slipped up your hoodie from over your head, tore the bra straps off your shoulders and maneuvered to take it off from under your shirt. You faced away from him during your slight undressing, and decided to do the same while crawling into the bed. You tried your hardest to stay to the far left side of the bed without falling off, but it was only a full size - making it hard for your thighs not to press against him, or his legs not to brush against yours when you or he fussed. Tugging the comforter close to your chest, partially for warmth in the desperately cold night and partially as a safety mechanism from your still wavering fear of the storm going on outside.

“Y’know we could always cuddle and share the warmth.” The smirked that painted his lips was evident through his words, the smug sound of his voice making you want to turn around and kick him, with all your might, off the bed.

“Shut up, Jacob.” The use of his full name made him shiver only slightly, something you hadn’t caught from your side of the bed.

Soon the sound of the rain lulled you off to sleep, and you prayed that when you woke again it would be morning, and you’d be able to jump back on the bus and into your own bunk.

You had woken back up sometime after falling asleep for the second time that night, and it wasn’t because of the sun shining through the window or the birds making you aware of the time of day. You wiggled your hips just a smidge to make yourself re-aware of where it was that you were, and the sound of a small groan made you slowly, but surely open your eyes. The pressing feeling of something making its very comfortable place on the small of your back, just before your ass, made you furrow a brow. You moved your hips some more to investigate further, a hand abruptly finding your hip to halt your actions.

“Can you stop moving?” A groggy, low voice made its way from behind you, making your eyes widen even further. His hand never left your hip, and for some odd reason you didn’t want it to - despite the hatred you thought you felt for him, the feeling of his touch made your thighs press together willingly.

“Is there a reason why you’re so excited right now?” You half whispered back teasingly, referring to the hard pressing of his inferred bulge, his hand slowly inching toward your stomach as his forearm rested lazily on your hip.

“Is there a reason why you have yet to move?” The same sly, and overly confident tone made its way into his words. You rolled your eyes, maneuvering yourself to turn around despite his grasp, his hand never leaving you even as you switched your position.

Your eyes met now, his head higher than yours as a result of the height difference. Through your waking up and confusion, you seemed to miss the entanglement of your legs in his, and how close the two of you really were despite having fallen asleep on opposite ends of the bed.

“Why are we so close?” You asked, pushing your head back to see his face clearly.

“You must have gotten really cold, you basically threw yourself on me.” You smirked, his grip on your one hip growing tighter, pulling you in. You didn’t fight the pull, hell - you didn’t fight a single thing that had happened since you had woken up.

“Your hand is a little close, don’t you think?” Your own hand running up his arm, stopping on his bicep that hid under the cover.

“Oh, I’m sorry - Should I move it?” He began to pull his hand away, to your embarrassment, your first instinct was to pull it back on you, this time guiding it toward the thigh you hitched over his own hip.

“Mmm. I thought so.” He spit with arrogance, the almost magnetic pull you felt was becoming harder and harder to fight.

“Your hands feel nice.” You decided that whatever happened, or was about to happen - would be excused by the late night, and “being in the moment” to save yourself from further humiliation. You mentally hit yourself in the face at how easy it was for him to have you unraveling at the seams, how easy it was for you to become absolute putty in his hands.

“You think they feel nice like this?” He squeezed the excess skin that lay on your hip, kneading the soft skin with the coarseness of his fingers. You mustered a small nod amidst the feeling of his hands feeding and nurturing your touch starved skin.

He inched his hand lower, moving toward the small of your back before pulling you with little to no effort, on top of him. You let out a small gasp at the sudden change of position, your body straddling his, your thighs claiming his hips as their own. Your hands found solstice around his neck, one playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while the other caressed the straggling pieces out of his face.

“Still hate me?” Both of his hands now paying equal attention to both of your hips, softly pacing themselves up and down your sides - a feeling you never thought would make you shudder, but did.

“Hate you? I could never hate you. But this mouth-” Your hand now pressed to the side of his face, your thumb sinking past his lips, one he welcomed so hospitably and wrapped his lips around.

“This mouth is going to get you in a lot of trouble.” Without any further consideration you slipped your finger from between his lips, your own pressing into his in a rush. A long breath through his nose as he melted into you so easily, surprisingly conforming to you as easily as you did him.

You pressed down onto him a little rougher now, eliciting a low groan from the back of his throat through the mashing of your lips and the sloppiness of your tongues as they slipped from one mouth to the other. His hips bucked up into you, the roughness of the jolt rubbing your clit through the fabric of your sleep shorts just enough to make you let out an involuntary moan - the sound making Jake dig his fingers tighter into your hips.

“Can we?” You asked against his mouth, pants being exchanged as your chests heaved against each other with every breath. You hoped he knew what it was you were asking for, the further humiliation of having to speak the words into existence made your stomach churn. But despite the seeming breakthrough between you two, he still remained the same Jake you (majority of the time) wanted to smack.

“Can we what, baby? Speak up.” He condescendingly caressed the side of your head, another smug smirk playing at his lips at the upper hand he had in the situation.

“I want you, please?” You posed it as more of a question, the uncertainty in your face a sole exempletion of your aching want and nervousness. He kissed you again, this time softer - much too passionate for the relationship you two had shared up until this very moment.

“Okay sugar, okay.” His hand softening as it stroked your face with a more loving touch, one that made your eyes water because the sad truth was - no one had ever touched you so ardently before, not a single man had made you feel so wanted and you couldn’t help the swelling of your heart at the thought that Jake had been the first one to do so.

Your lips found each other again, your hands roaming around each other’s body as to explore every possible inch of skin you could. His shirt came off first, you lifted off of his chest only for a moment to tear yours off too, his eyes glossing over your chest like it was the first time he was seeing female anatomy. Before he could do further damage with his eyes you sunk back down, pressing your chests together again. His hands awkwardly tugging at your shorts, trying to pull them down best he could in the position you had both been in. After a few moments of trying his best to pull them down, you decided you’d save him the further trouble and instead opt for lifting yourself up and shimmying down your shorts, tugging his own down to allow his previously straining cock to spring forward and onto his stomach. You tried to hide the instinctive widening of your eyes as his size came into view.

You settled back over his hips, your now bare core brushing against him just enough to elicit a soft moan. His hands finding comfort on your hips again, lifting you up enough to center you over his erect cock before slowly, so slowly sinking you down. Your jaws fall slack simultaneously at the overwhelming pleasure, the stretch increasing the lower your hips fell making you let out a moan a volume much louder than before.

“I know baby, I know.” He spoke breathlessly against your lips, his hand moving to rest intertwined with the hair on the nape of your neck.

A beat between you two as he allowed you to adjust to the feeling, waiting patiently for your go ahead. Wordlessly, with a nod of your head - prompting you to rock your hips back and forth, to start. The coil in your stomach tightening far faster than it ever has before with any man. You press harder again, your hips picking up their pace despite the burn that spreads through your thighs - the positioning pulling on your muscles, igniting a fire that runs through your legs. A particular rub against his pubic bone on your clit ignites a pornographic like moan from your throat, one your sure was much to loud to not have slipped under the door of the motel room, or through the thinness of the walls sheetrock and out into the night air for others to here.

“Pretty sure you just told the whole motel our dirty little secret.” He whispered through soft groans, his eyes fluttering open at the sound. Your hand clamping over his mouth, your next words falling dangerously close to his ear.

“Shut up, and give it to me.” It was almost instantaneous when Jake grasped onto your hips, flipping the two of you over with little to no grace. His body weight being supported almost fully by your own, maneuvering himself so that your legs were wrapped around his waist, his knees pressing into the mattress. Without hesitation he thrust himself into you with one harsh push, a yelp leaving you - one that was smoothed with his lips pressing to yours, your moans being muffled by the comfort of his mouth.

“Oh god.. You feel so good.” The words left you without your brain giving you the ability to think about it first, the formidable pleasure leaving your brain functions useless. His hips snapping into your pelvic bone with a bruising pace, if you weren’t being fucked into an abyss you’d be more conscious of the marks they’d leave the next morning.

Your nails scratched desperately at his biceps, his forearms, his back - anywhere you could pull and tug on to keep you grounded, and not a million meters above you. The feeling of his warm skin alone enough to ensure your awareness and sentience. His voice was just the cherry on top of all he was giving you, the sultriness of his sound as he whispered dirty praises into your ear.

“You take me so well, so well..” His words trail off as his hips grow sloppy, a sign of his impending finish. You grip his hips as hard as you can, not wanting him to finish before you could yourself.

“Hold on for me Jakey, please. I’m so close.” He nodded, his chest pressing into yours as he lay his head in the crook of your neck, his moans growing louder and whinier as he fought against himself. Your walls closing in around him, squeezing him tighter to tighten the coil further.

“Fuck. Don’t do that baby - I’ll cum right now if you keep that up.” His voice is breathless, fucked out and you can’t help but meet his thrusts halfway - fucking yourself onto him before you feel the euphoria impend closer like a freight train with no breaks.

“Come on baby.. Give it to me.” You half speak, half moan into his mouth. His thrusts pick up just enough to send you toppling over the edge, your mouth growing wider and more round as your eyebrows knit together, Jake mimicking your face as his own orgasm fills every inch of his body with bliss before you’re both falling apart in the grasp of one another.

Your moans harmonize as they fall from your lips, free-diving into the ocean of euphoria that you’ve created for one another. His head once again sinking into the crook of your neck as you both pant through the coming down of your orgasms, still fucked out and unable to think about what any of this could have possibly meant. After a few moments, he maintains the strength to lift himself up and out of you, with a hiss from you both at the succumbing feeling of emptiness. He slumps down beside you, your chests heaving in uneven breaths as you work to regain your breath.

After a long moment of silence, you dare to speak up first. “Wow.” That’s the best you could do? Together you laugh, still staring at the ceiling as you light heartedly giggle. “Wow, is right.” He responds, provoking you to look over at him with glossed eyes.

“I think you’re beautiful, by the way.” He spokes softly, the up and down of his chest coming to a slower pace.

“What?” You can’t help the blush that spreads on your cheeks, a cheesy smile creeping onto your lips with permission.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful.” He moves his head to meet your eyes, a smile of his own warming your heart.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You don’t want to give him another reason to inflate his already increasingly large ego, so you keep it short and sweet. Another moment of comfortable silence falls between you two, again prompting you to speak up.

“So what now?” You tap your fingers against your stomach, the sweat slowly drying up - telling you that you’d need another shower. He reaches over to his side table, grabbing something out of sight before you see the phone he holds over his face, the adjusted light brightening his face just slightly causing you to quirk a brow.

“Uh, what’re you doing?” You reached your head over to peak at his screen, your head now resting on his shoulder. Josh’s contact pops up and your eyebrows quirks even more.

“Oh just asking Josh to get us a Plan B.” He smirks, your eyes widening before you reach to tear the phone from his grasp.

“Jacob Thomas Kiszka I swear to god!”

taglist: @myownparadise96 @celestialfauna @theweightofstardust @trafficwasabitch @ria-gvf @eeeloraaa @jakekiszkaschiropractor @basiccortez @gretavanfleas @chmpgnnlace @capturethechaos @doodle417 @age-of-nyahh @gvfrry @stardustdanny @ascendingtostardust @kay-jordan @jakeslovehandles @bumblebeeswrite @seventieswhore @mannick @angelbabyivy @streamsofstardust @screechesincoherently @godlygreta @thefleetofdreams @groggyvanfleet @skankforjakekiszka @a-bouquet-of-lilies @trplshotofdopamine @aureummel @t00turnttrauma @danny-wagners-peacesign-necklace @jmkiszka @callmebymym @sammiboo162 @megsobryan @sarakay-gvf @katie-gvf @joshysgf @gardenofgreta

[joshfuckingkiszka]

『pretty please - drw』

drw x f!reader

again, over 3k, just needed y’all to know. it was so hard for me to write this just bc of how used to seeing Danny in other pics being so dominant so I hope I did this justice. lmk.

THIS PIECE IS 18+ MINORS DNI

warnings: explicit sexual content, oral (f & m rec), f!dom, danny is such a good boy

☼

Watching the boys record in the studio was such an overwhelming experience. In truth, the only reason you had agreed to come in the first place was because of their offer of lunch afterwards. That’s not to say you didn’t love watching them, because you absolutely did, but their constant bickering - which often resulted in all out screaming matches - was fucking annoying.

Your friendship with Sam was a weird one, it had begun when you literally ran into him on the street, and only apologized for bumping into his dog, Rosie. The strange look he had given you made you burst out laughing, and your friendship was born. His brothers were nice, often playfully ridiculing you for being friends with Sam in the first place. Then there was Danny.

Keep reading

[readyforthegarden]

for the short sentence starters:

"you are enough. a thousand times enough."

& with josh! <33

I would simply die to hear Josh say this to me. Y’all have simply hit it out of the park with these prompts. They’ve been amazing and cathartic to write, and this one got a liiiiiittle angsty, but there's fluff I promise!! I hope you like it, my dear!!

The chatter in the Kiszka house was loud, the family coming together for a reunion of sorts while the boys were in town for a few days. Josh wanted you to meet some of his extended family, excitedly pulling you around the party to meet cousins and aunts and uncles. After the fourth or fifth introduction, you were beginning to feel self-conscious. Your boyfriend was amazing. He was so incredibly talented, like his brothers. Musically gifted, and he always had a way with words, beyond compare. And then there was you.

Just a retail employee while you’re in a gap year, figuring out what to do with your life. You felt like you could see the disappointment in his families eyes when you told them. They probably expected you to be just as gifted as your partner. A musician, like him. An artist, or a model, maybe. You could play a few guitar chords, Jake having taken pity on you and trying to teach you. You could barely draw a stick figure that was believable and there was absolutely no way any modeling agency would look in your direction in the first place. No, you were just…you.

You had lost track of Josh after he excused himself to talk to one of his uncles, leaving you with his cousin. She was kind and polite, but you felt the same judgment as you talked about maybe going to cosmetology school for hair, or maybe training to become an esthetician. You were lackluster. Everyone saw it. After a few moments, you excused yourself and made your way to the bathroom, pausing in the vacant, upstairs hallway. Pictures of the family through the years littered the walls, the mismatched picture frames Karen painstakingly put together made you feel slightly comforted in a homey way.

That was until you viewed the contents of the frames. Pictures of the boys with instruments from early ages, Sam with science fair prizes and debate team trophies. Plaques from their records and songs hitting milestones. Even the photos of Ronnie made you feel bad, she was so gorgeous, so photogenic. Every thought was right, you’d never be as special as the Kizska’s. You didn’t belong with them. You were even from different upbringing. While they weren’t super wealthy, they were well off enough that they could afford so many more opportunities growing up. Meanwhile you had been lucky if your parents could spare fifteen dollars for your third grade field trip to the planetarium, and started working as soon as you were legally able to.

The tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurried and entered what you thought was the bathroom. As soon as you closed the door behind you, you groaned. Josh and Jake's childhood bedroom was the room you'd entered, just one door away from the bathroom. Jake's soccer trophies were sitting on a dresser, and Josh still had photos from all the plays and shows he'd been in from school. The tears started spilling down your cheeks, the hollow, empty feeling in your chest becoming overwhelming. You sat yourself on the edge of Josh's old bed, staring blankly at the bookshelf he shared with Jake. The bindings of nearly every book were worn, creased and crackling from having been read so many times. Various journals were stacked in with them, and you knew if you opened one up Josh's scrawl would make you feel worse, his beautiful prose something you could never imagine thinking in the first place. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing, knowing Josh would come looking for you eventually.

As if on cue, the door opened, and his curly head poked through. He grinned when he saw you, but it quickly fell, his eyes becoming large and round with worry as he hurried in and shut the door behind him.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, rushing over to you. He cupped your tear and mascara stained face in his hands, looking over you as if someone had physically hurt you. You sniffled and pulled your face from his grasp. "Hey, tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened, Josh." you sighed. "It's okay." he frowned, brows knit together in concern and frustration.

"Obviously it's not, or you wouldn't be in here by yourself crying." he said softly, crouching down in front of you. "Tell me what's wrong, please?" you looked away from his big brown cow eyes, trying to stop the words from bubbling up. Josh was having none of it though, and took your chin gently between his forefinger and his thumb, turning your head back to him. As soon as you locked eyes with him, the dam broke, more tears spilling over as you began to babble.

"I'm not good enough for you!" you sobbed, trying to ignore the burning from your mascara as it got in your eyes. "I'm not talented, I'm not beautiful. I'm not good at anything. I'm just some dumb twenty-something who has no idea what they want to do with their life, working a dead-end job selling clothes. I'm not like you, Josh. You and your family have had all these amazing things, and I'm other side of the tracks trash. I can see it in their eyes when I tell them about myself. I'm not good enough for you. I think we should just end things here. I'll sneak out through the back, you can say I wasn't feeling well or something." you sniffled, as Josh stared at you, his mouth slightly agape. You watched the journey of him taking in your words, his eyes flashing with fear, sadness, and sympathy.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, a slight waver to his voice. "You want to break up with me?" you shrugged as you caught your breath again. "No, I need you to say it. Do you want this to be over, truly?"

"No." you mumbled. "But I don't deserve someone like you, Josh. And you deserve someone beautiful, and smart and cool..talented in some way like you are. You deserve someone who matches you." Josh was quiet, save for the deep breath he took in and slowly let out through his nose as he thought over your words again.

"You don't get to tell me what or who I deserve." Josh looked at you, his eyes boring into your own, making you feel small. "I decide that. Come here." he stood up and held out his hand. You stared at it for a moment before sliding your hand into his, and he pulled you up, moving you in front of the full length mirror propped against the wall. Old, faded and picked at band stickers framed it, and Josh posed you standing up straight, his head peering at you in the reflection over your shoulder. He gathered your hair and moved it behind your shoulders. The olive green sundress you'd worn that day, that made you feel so beautiful, now felt like it hung strangely against your frame, making your hips seem too wide, shoulders too broad.

Josh reached out a hand, letting his fingers graze the skin of your face. "Look at your eyes." he whispered. You did as told, taking in the bloodshot whites, and messy makeup. "These eyes see so much. They try and see the good in everyone, no matter what. They see the sunshine and smile, they find the coziest spot on a cold rainy day. They see the beauty in people who don't see it in themselves." His hand moved between your eyebrows.

"The mind in here, comes up with some of the most hilarious jokes I've ever heard. It's witty and quick. It comes up with the craziest scenarios, and some of the most wonderful daydreams and magical thoughts." now your lips. "These lips have rarely, if ever, spoken unkindly about anyone. Not only are they beautiful and delicious, but the words they articulate only serve to make someone feel good about themselves." Josh's hands moved over your shoulders, and down to your waist, his palms resting flat on your stomach, his left flexing over what you referred to as your "bit of pudge" on your lower stomach.

"This body carries your gorgeous soul. It faces every battle with you, every experience. It's by far the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." he whispered into your ear. "Every freckle, scar, marking, every square inch and ounce, is ethereal." the tears were flowing again as Josh moved you to face him again, his hand resting on your chest, above your thumping heart.

"And this heart?" he gave you a soft smile. "I've never met anyone else who was so capable and willing to love so openly. Especially after so much hurt. This heart gathers everyone to it, makes everyone feel so special, important and loved. And you never ask for anything in return, not even the same love back. In fact, you're pushing it away." you licked your dry lips and nodded, knowing he was right.

"Josh, I'm sorry-"

"Shh," he hushed you with his lips, softly pressing them against yours. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining. "You think you're not enough for me? You couldn't be more wrong. You are enough. A thousand times enough."

"I love you." the words rushed out of you and Josh grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in tightly to him, not caring if you got any of your wet and streaky makeup on his stark white shirt.

"I love you, mama." he pecked your lips again when you pulled back from the hug. "Now, I'm going to text Jake and see if he'll sneak us up some snacks and some water, and then we're going to relax, fix your makeup and head back downstairs, and not give a single fuck what anyone besides you and I think, okay?" you nodded and sat down on his bed again. After Jake brought what was asked for, and threatened to fight anyone who made you cry, you and Josh spent the next half an hour together, quietly snacking, letting him help you clean your ruined makeup as you dug through your bag and found your products to fix it.

"By the way, the whole premise was ridiculous." Josh shook his head, chewing on a chunk of cheese he'd popped into his mouth. "If anything I'm not good enough for you."

"Josh, I don't think my heart can handle crying like that again." you chuckled under your breath as you reapplied your eyeliner. You finished and checked it out before capping the pencil and looking at him. "Let's just agree, that from now on, neither of us is less than for the other."

"Okay." he smiled, making your heart flutter. "We're just enough for each other."

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do like either Jake or josh, maybe more on Josh’s side of this, where you get into your first real big fight and you walk out and he gets all sad and scared that you left for good? But really you just went to go get air.

Snap

Words: 2.4k

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language

...

It was bound to happen. Fights, big fights, small squabbles, direct and passive aggressive attacks. But in particular, this fight. This specific argument that had been brewing for actual months and had been casually swept aside in favor of keeping the peace in the relationship.

You knew what you were diving into when you started dating a rockstar - it wasn’t as if you naively thought you’d be his top priority all the time, or be able to spend the amount of time normal couples did with each other, and, in the end, that’s what really set you off in regard to this issue.

“I ask for one fucking night a month from you, Josh,” you snipped without actually raising your voice, still busy clearing Josh’s living room floor of the last vestiges from the date you’d had planned.

Operative word, had.

Josh - usually jumping at the chance to spend time with you in any form, even if that meant just doing chores together - was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen with a clenched jaw and pursed lips.

You bumped his shoulder as you passed him; he hadn’t attempted to move out of your way and you hadn’t made the attempt to avoid him. “But you can’t even give me that,” you lamented bitterly.

Trying to keep your emotions pinned down, you tried to focus on repackaging the snacks and picnic food you’d prepared hours ago and had been grazing on ever since you’d been stood up. And not only stood up, but stood up in your boyfriend’s own fucking apartment.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Okay?” he apologized insincerely, voice scratchy and rough from use. “Recording went late, it was my fault, and I–” he scoffed softly, “--what can I say? Sorry that I don’t have a 9 to 5 job, I guess.”

You knew that he knew his tone wouldn’t be taken laying down, so you weren’t surprised that he had his gaze directed elsewhere when you glanced over your shoulder, unimpressed ire written plainly on your features. “You can fuck off with the attitude. You know that’s not what I mean.”

Finally, Josh took the steps to approach you, taking a bowl filled with Chex Mix and unclipping its respective bag, but your temper flared when you caught sight of him handling the date night stuff that he hadn’t cared enough about to text you and tell you he’d be late to. “If that’s not what you’re angry about, I’m just confused why you’re–”

“I got it, thanks,” you said shortly, snatching the bag and the bowl out of his hands.

Josh stood frozen for a second before shaking his head, throwing his hands up, and walking away. “Fine. If you wanna be like that, be my guest. I’m too tired for this shit. I’ll be–”

“Oh, if I wanna be like that?” you snapped finally, throwing a dish towel at the back of his head to get him to turn around and stop walking away from you and this…conversation. “Because I’m - I’m what, Josh? Being unreasonable? For being upset that you didn’t even have the courtesy to text me and tell me that you wouldn’t be home until some god-forsaken hour of the night?”

Josh threw the towel on a counter nearby forcefully, face now shifting from the tired apathy he’d kept on like a mask since he’d come home to you finishing a movie by yourself, on a blanket in his living room surrounded by pillows, and into something sharper.

“Since when have I ever texted you to let you know I’d be late getting home? I thought it was a given with the band being this deep into the album, so unless you want a text every single fucking night–” he tried to explain, pitting himself against you and still using the damn album as an excuse to be an asshole.

“Since we agreed that the first Saturday during the months you’re home would be date night, that’s when,” you said flippantly, trying to hide how upset you were that he’d obviously forgotten. To his credit, he had the decency to show a tiny bit of contrition at your words, but it quickly vanished when you kept going. “But I guess you’re too busy to remember that, right? And if you’re too busy to even remember that you - oh, I don’t know, have a girlfriend that actually wants to spend time with you–”

Josh sighed, closing his eyes and then drawing in a deep breath. “Y/N,” he said once he was through with exaggerating his frustration as he was so good at doing, “I’m sorry. I really am. I was an asshole, I forgot, I’m a horrible boyfriend, and I will agonize over this missed date for the rest of my life if you’ll forgive me for this one fuck-up, darling.”

He’d had you in the first part - thinking he was sincere - and then that.

“I wouldn’t be this angry if it was just this one fuck-up,darling,” you mocked back, frustration and your own irritation on the quick rise. “You’ve been so entirely checked-out for these past few months. So oblivious and so fucking distant. We meet up, we fuck, sometimes we eat together, but that’s it.” The accusation felt sharp coming from your mouth, cutting up your heart and slicing your throat raw (although that may have just been from holding back the knot of emotion there, keeping frustrated tears down as well). Because if that was your ‘relationship’, then you were nothing more than a glorified booty call, or friends-with-benefits situationship to him. “This is the third date in a row you’ve missed, Josh.”

The frustrating part of it was that you knew you would sound needy, no matter how you worded your concerns or tried to get your point across. You were still gonna seem like the bad guy, like the unreasonable one for expecting so much of the little free-time Josh had. But you weren’t. You’d already had this little pep-talk with yourself thinking about how you’d approach the subject. It was not irrational of you to have certain expectations for your boyfriend, famous or not.

And sure enough, Josh pinched his nose as if he couldn’t believe you were arguing with him about it. “Baby, I’ve been busy. You know this. You knew this when we started dating. Fuck, you knew this before we started dating. What changed?” he asked, honestly confused. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t my schedule.”

Again, so fucking oblivious.

You laughed mirthlessly. “What changed? What changed, Josh?” He raised his brows and motioned for you to continue. So you did. “What changed was that you stopped caring. You stopped trying. And I don’t deserve that.” You sighed, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired. And this seemed like an uphill battle you’d just have to fight again and again and again - you were already exhausted.

“You think that I don’t care because I missed a few dates? That I’m not trying my best to make every single damn person in my life happy, plus a couple million more?”

The circular arguing was getting old. “I never said I had to be the number one priority in your life, Josh! Why can’t you get that through your thick head? I know that I can’t be. I know. All that I ask is that you prioritize me for one fucking night of the month. One date–”

He clenched his fists and then tapped his fingers aggressively against the doorframe, obviously restless and annoyed. “And here we are again, back to the fucking date. I didn’t know you were so stuck on the fucking materialistic aspects of a traditional relationship. I thought that we were spending a good amount of time together, Y/N, for the hand we were dealt, are we not?”

“No! That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you, Josh!” But Josh didn’t stop talking, and you each ended up just trying to talk over the other. “ And I feel like you’re trying to –”

“Do we not sleep in the same bed?! Eat at the same table, watch the same movies at night?!”

“--paint me as high maintenance but I don’t ask you to plan the date, or buy me gifts, or take me places - all I ask you to do is fucking show up when you’re actually around to do it!”

“Honestly?” It was his next words that twisted the knife, “I didn’t think that the date mattered that much in the scheme of things.”

You stared at him for a moment to make sure he was being serious, and when all you saw were serious, exhausted eyes woefully staring back at you, you clenched you teeth together and shoved past your boyfriend, trying to blink away tears as you searched for your stuff, snarling, “And what about this conversation, Josh, what about this entire fucking interaction makes you think that it doesn’t matter? Because it obviously matters to me.” You made sure to point your finger accusingly at him to drive your point home, “What you really mean is that it doesn’t matter to you.”

Josh had followed you out of the kitchen, watching hesitantly as you grabbed your keys and wallet, obviously not expecting you to leave. Which, considering that you two spent most nights together, was a valid reaction. You saw the exact moment he dropped from his irritation into a patronizingly placating attitude in an attempt to talk you down. “Baby, I’m not trying to be a smart-ass when I say that I’m sorry. I just - I have a lot on my plate right now, okay?” And of course he would play the victim. “I hate that you seem to truly believe that I don’t care about you or our relationship because of that. And I’m so sorry that I don’t have the time to listen to every single thing or care about every little detail, but it gets really, really fucking overwhelming for me.”

There it was. Now you were the bad guy. The jacket on your back protected you from the weather outside, but it did nothing to melt the icy atmosphere in the room and provided none of the warmth you so desperately wanted that you usually got from Josh. “So fuck me for wanting to spend time with you, then, huh?” you asked softly, but bitingly. “If you can’t do one damn night a month, why are we even doing this? Why do you keep me around if I’m just another thorn in your side?”

“Y/N,” Josh sighed, “you’re not a–”

You didn’t want to hear it - he’d said his part. “There are plenty of people out there who manage to be famous and make time for their partner. If you can’t be one of them, then maybe we should…maybe it would be better if we…I don’t know,” you said miserably. You needed to get out of his apartment to clear your head. You knew this wasn’t what you wanted. Not a break, or a breakup, or space, or someone else who could give you more time. “I'm gonna go,” you said instead.

You just wanted Josh to realize what was happening, how your relationship was wasting away. Before any tears could fall, the door closed behind you, Josh’s following, “Y/N - Y/N, wait,” cut off by the click of the lock.

You’d parked in the guest spot outside Josh’s apartment, and threw everything into the backseat haphazardly before plunking yourself into the driver’s seat and resting your head on the wheel.

Was it the wrong move - leaving? Was this going to be the last straw, that Josh would say ‘maybe you’re right, this isn’t working out’? You didn’t want to concede on your argument, because you deserved to be happy, dammit, and you weren’t. Not right now and not like this.

There was a knock on your window and you looked over to see Josh in his white shirt, face screwed up and hand poised on the door handle, silently asking you to unlock the door.

Not really wanting to deny him, you pressed the button and he pulled the door open, the silence between you and Josh only emphasized by the sounds of the city.

“Come back inside,” Josh requested softly. “We can talk there, just - please, don’t leave. Not while you’re angry.”

Your pride was hurt. It was the only thing stopping you from throwing yourself back into his arms and forgiving him, and it had you protesting. “I was just going to go and clear my head.”

Another pause, and then a quiet, “Were you going to come back?”

Your heart dropped at the anticipation and anxiety in his tone. He was obviously realizing the weight you were struggling to hold and the strain it was putting on your relationship, and that there was a gravity to the situation he hadn’t seen before. At least that was what you’d hoped he realized.

But arguments or not, revelation or none, you wouldn’t have been able to go on without some sort of closure between the two of you - there was no way you could’ve been satisfied just leaving and never coming back.

“Yeah. I was gonna come back.” You both knew you didn’t mean only to his apartment.

The relief was visible on his features, but his concern stayed in place. “Do you…do you still want to go?”

You kinda did - if only for the opportunity to reinforce the idea that your patience wasn’t inexhaustible, and that just because he shot you the kicked puppy look and a soft voice, he wouldn’t escape the consequences of his actions. But you also didn’t want to add on to his stress when you hadn’t been planning on leaving him. Not this time.

“Will you stay? For me?” he continued when you didn’t say anything. “I think maybe this is something we should talk about.” And, well, no shit Sherlock, but you figured you could cut him some slack, because at least he was trying. “I’m sorry I was being an asshole.”

You hesitated for another second, but got out of the car, taking the hand he had instantly offered you, and let him pull you into a short, apologetic hug.

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” you told him as you walked back into his apartment, “but I won’t apologize for wanting to spend time with you.”

Josh smiled as he closed the door behind you both. “I wouldn’t ever want you to.”

...

Taglist: @fleetsonfire @theweightofstardust @theatrekidjosh @fictional-duchess @greta-van-yeet @prophetofthedune @toothgapjoshy

(As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, see the Preference Poll/Taglist link in my Masterlist right under the Disclaimer! PS - if you only want to be included in a specific taglist, please specify that!)

[bandontherunn]

Sexual Healing (Dr. JMK x f!reader)

“You're my medicine, open up and let me in”

18+ minors dni!! 4.6k words (Warnings: pure smut, oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex)

"Dr. J.M.K of spiritual psychology and sexual healing"

That's what the wooden plaque above his office door said, and that's what most people called him. You just called him Josh- or baby. Did it bother you that people went to your boyfriend for sexual therapy? No, not necessarily. So long as he didn't practice sexual healing with them the same way he did with you.

It always started the same way, you’d find him looking at you over his glasses at you and a smirk playing across his lips. 'babe you wanna try something?' He’d say, or 'babe I found a new technique' and he looked so damn cute asking that you almost always obliged. Why wouldn't you help him grow his knowledge?

That's how you found yourself here, in his office, at eight o'clock in the evening. Late summer rain pattering against the window as you laid back lazily on the red velvet lounge chair, the blinds drawn haphazardly only showing slivers of the dark sky. The door is locked and the sign on the front door flipped to 'the doctor is out'. It was roughly nine pm and the rain had picked up significantly by the time he shut his laptop. Low rumbles echoed from the restless sky outside as leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his messy curls while letting out a heavy sigh.

"Long day?" You draw out sleepily, your body happily sinking further and further into the chaise lounge chair. The soft music he had playing reminded you of a music box and the way it sounded as the gears started slowing. It was enough to nearly put you to sleep hadn’t the sound of his keyboard kept you awake.

"You have no idea" he pushes back on the mahogany desk in front of him, turning in his chair to look at you through his lashes. "If I have to listen to Carol complain about her sex life one more time without following my advice, I might just forfeit my own degree"

You giggle at the thought of Josh leaned forward in his chair, reiterating himself for the hundredth time while trying to stay calm. "No hun they need someone with patience like you" You lay your head back against the pillow.

"Everyone is so uptight lately, I don't know if it is the weather or what" he taps his fingers against the arms of his leather chair as another low rumble rattles the windowpane behind your head.

"I'm not, I’m cool as a cucumber" you shoot a smile at him, "I believe it's because of autoregulation exercise-” you fake a contemplative expression, “raise endorphins- lower cortisol?" you sigh "and sex" you add, and he smirks up at you.

"You do listen to me don't you?" His grin widens as he stands up out of his chair and walks over to you, sitting on the end of chaise against your legs.

"Every word" you pull your legs up so he has more room to sit, but he reaches out and grabs your ankles, settling your legs across his lap.

"I'm glad someone does" he says in a sing-song voice, walking his fingers up your shin with every word. You smile and stretch your arms up into the air, groaning at the popping you feel in your joints.

"So" you drop your hands into your lap, "why did you call me here? because it usually means there’s something you want to try out"

"Not necessarily, what if I just wanted to spend the evening with my beautiful girlfriend?" He fakes an innocent look accompanied by the cheesiest grin that has you holding back an eye roll.

Your eyes dart around incredulously "In your office?" You quip, raising your eyebrows at him. He just shrugs. "Joshy babe there's almost always an ulterior motive when you invite me here" He doesn't respond, he just smiles softly and tilts his head to the side. He looks at you fondly, you expect him to say something but he just stares at you- right into your eyes and the intensity of the moment makes you feel a bit wary, but not uncomfortable.

You shift in your seat, a warm blush spreading across the bridge of your nose as he starts to run his fingers in circles around your knee. "Do you feel it?"

You look around the room, at the lamp in the corner with the red tassel shade, the vinyl player spinning something you'd never heard, but it's relaxing. "Am I supposed to be?" You whisper, the atmosphere of the room suddenly becoming pacifying as you settle your eyes back on him, the movement of his fingers stilling.

"Close your eyes" he instructs, and you do. The lack of light in the room makes the backside of your eyelids impossibly dark, save a faint red glow from the single lamp in the corner. He makes no sound, the only thing your senses can pick up is the rain still beating against the roof.

Suddenly, you feel him stand up, slipping out from under your legs and laying them out straight in front of you. He shuffles around the room for a moment and you hear his desk drawer open. He ruffles around for something before leaving his desk, neglecting to shut the drawer. You hear the click of a lamp and the red light behind your eyelids disappears. The record player scratches off as he changes the vinyl, as it starts to spin you recognize it immediately. You're tempted to open your eyes when you hear him messing with his belt, but you don't.

"Can you undress for me baby?" He barely whispers above the sounds of hozier’s haunting melody floating out of the speakers. You do so, slipping out of your hoodie and throwing it to the side. He laughs softly as you start to peel your leggings off, his hand reaching out and smoothing your hair. “Staticky,” he states, and you can hear his smile.

You pull your feet out of your leggings, the air of the room hitting your bare skin. The cool rush reminds you of how you decided against underwear this morning. He hums, and you can only imagine the smirk on his face as he reaches forward, taking the leggings from your hands.

"What are we doing?" You keep your tone hushed and playful, wanting to keep up with his quiet demeanor. Your body is already thrumming with excitement.

"You're not going to do anything but breathe" his voice is lower now, more serious, it adopts a soothing quality that you've come to know very well.

"Okay" your voice is small and quiet when it comes out, now anticipating his next instruction.

You hear his khakis drop to the floor, and the soft thud of his sweater afterward. His footsteps retreat from you for a moment and you hear his desk drawer finally shut as he walks to you, whatever he's holding in his hand clinking against each other.

"Okay baby, before we begin I need you to take some deep breaths with me-" You hear him inhale deeply and you follow in suit, matching his breaths. You continue to breathe with him, a flash of lightning illuminating your eyelids. A low crack of thunder rumbles out immediately after and you jump slightly, your breath hitching in your chest. He soothes you with a soft hush and guides you into another breath. After the fifth one the both of you return to breathing at your own pace, and your head feels lighter. "I have a question for you" he stood by your side again, you can feel his warmth radiating against you, "you can open your eyes now"

You flutter your eyes open, getting used to the atmosphere around you, a few candles lit about the room and a salt lamp in the opposite corner cast a glow that barely reached where you sat on the chair. It was enough light, however, to see the three wands he had placed in his hands. They were undoubtedly crystals, you weren't sure what ones they were but you had a feeling he was about to clear that up.

"What one are you drawn to?" He asks, bringing his hands a bit closer to you. You gaze down at the three wands, your eyes immediately landing on the deep reddish brown one, with threads of ebony trailing through it. "You can touch them," he nods.

You reach your hand out to touch the one that caught your eye first, running your fingertips down its length. You feel his gaze on you, as if he's inspecting every movement your body makes. "carnelian" he states simply, "all three are stones of vitality and enerygy" he explains, "sexual energy" his words bounce back off your eardrums as realization sets in and you feel heat spread across your cheeks, as well as other places.

"This will help center you, go ahead, grab it" he looks at you expectantly as you curl your fingers around the wand and take it from him. He wraps the other two in the silk cloth and sets them on the table next to the chair, before kneeling down in front of you, placing himself between your legs.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You question, even though you're sure you already know the answer. It's confirmed when he looks at you with a hesitant smirk, his eyes cast up to yours from his place on the floor. He places one hand on your thigh, his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh as his other hand reaches for yours that holds the wand.

"Hold the tip of it against your breastbone," he positions your hand so the end of the cool stone is pressed into your skin. "Then slowly, move it down your body as you focus on nothing but breathing and the energy you feel" he guides your hand down your body, slowly “focus on proximity, focus on my voice” the crystal warms up against the temperature of your skin by the time it reaches just below your navel.

His guidance stops, the tip of the wand pressing gently into your lower stomach. He looks up at you before speaking again, “This is going to feel strange at first, but it'll be okay" he soothes, "if you feel uncomfortable at any point just tell me to stop, and I will- otherwise just let your body react however it wants" his voice is like honey as he talks, and there's a darker undertone that suggests he wants to say more than what he's leading on.

You nod in agreement and the feeling his words bring you makes your legs want to snap shut, but his hand keeps you grounded. He continues leading your hand down over your pubic bone and when the tip of the crystal brushes over your clit, you don't hold back a low whine. The glassy surface of the crystal slides through your folds with ease. He guides your hand up and down a few times and you feel your knuckles brush against your own heat, the warm slick coating your skin. You're surprised at how wet you are, and you assume Josh is too by the way his lip is held between his teeth as he watches.

Once he seems confident that it's adequately slicked up, he looks up at you and lets his lip slip from between his teeth. “Are you ready?” He whispers.

You blink, nodding your head curtly and he positions the tip of the wand against your entrance. You suck in a breath as he pushes it in, the breath leaving your lungs in a pleasured sigh. The wand isn't big at all, but the way he works it against your walls has you melting under his touch already.

"Are you comfortable?" He whispers, his voice cracking. He clears his throat and slides his free hand down from your thigh and into his lap.

"Yes baby" you breathe, your abdomen tightening when you see his arm moving suggestively against himself. He keeps massaging the wand inside of you, his head is dipped down. His curls hang in front of his face, obscuring everything but the tip of his nose and the way his mouth is hanging open. You stare at the expanse of his chest, and trail your eyes down the patch of hair below his navel to where his hand is wrapped around his cock. There is almost no movement besides the painfully slow thrusts of his hips into his own hand. You want nothing more than to lay him back on the chair and wrap your mouth around his pretty cock, make him feel as good as he does you.

"You're not focusing on your breathing very well, mama" he tips his head up and smiles, still stroking himself as he brushes the wand particularly hard against your g-spot. You gasp and arch your hips off the chair for a moment at the contact before relaxing again.

"It's hard when you're making a show of yourself in front of me, Joshua" you tip your eyebrows up, your mouth falling open in a silent moan.

"Close your eyes then" he utters softly.

"Let me touch you" you counter, wiggling your hips in desperation for something more.

"Soon" he smiles and you groan, closing your eyes again. "This is all about you, baby. Now breathe, mimic the strokes" he slides the wand in and out of you slowly and rhythmically. You breathe in as he draws back, letting out breathy sighs as he slides it back into you. "There you go, mama” he praises, the tightness in your abdomen starting to grow. "In” he breathes in, slipping the wand slowly into you. “good- and out" you follow his shaky exhale as he slides the wand back out. He speeds up only slightly letting the tip of the wand tilt up against your g-spot, brushing it over and over. You kept your breathing steady, the deep breaths causing a lightheaded effect that had nothing to do with your approaching orgasm.

You felt euphoric as you let the music take you and the light feeling in your head spread through the rest of your body. His previously preoccupied hand comes back up to massage your thigh as he soothes you with hums like incantations. The storm outside mirrors the storm growing between your hips, the rain escalating to a near downpour.

You didn't realize you were whimpering until you were brought out of your own head by Josh crashing his lips to yours. You drink down his kiss fervently, suddenly realizing this was the first he'd kissed you all night. It was like coming up for air after swimming too deep. Your hands fly up into his silky hair, keeping him pulled close. He moans into your mouth as you pull at his curls, pulling him as close to you as possible. Your chest is heaving, controlled breathing being the last thing on your mind. Suddenly Josh pulls away, his lips red and puffy from your attempt to completely devour him.

"We can't lose our cool, mama" he coos at you, his breath still heavy. You groan, wanting to reach your hands out and pull him back where he belongs. He doesn’t give you time to act, as he's lowering his head to kiss down the same path he had guided the crystal. "How are you feeling, dove?" He murmurs against your stomach.

"So good" you whine, still desperately wanting those soft lips that he’s dragging across your skin back on yours. Your entire body feels like static as he peppers soft kisses down the inside of your thigh. You lean your head back and take in a shaky breath, but it hitches in your throat when you feel his lips wrap around your clit. Your attempt at a moan comes out as a whine as he sucks the swollen bud into his mouth.

You buck your hips up into his face, and he brings his hand down to hold it in place while his other is still occupied, rhythmically slipping the wand in and out of you. You arch your back against the velvet chair and reach your hand out to grab any part of him that you could, your hand wrapping around his bicep. "Fuck, Josh-" you rasp as your peak threatened to spill over.

"Come for me, pretty baby" his teeth nip at the soft flesh of your inner thigh, leaving purple marks in his wake. You throw your head back against the sensation as you reach your peak. You feel yourself clench around the wand, the tip of it being pressed even harder into your sensitive walls as he laps at you, drinking up every last bit of your blinding orgasm. The sounds you're making are pornographic and you'd be embarrassed if you weren't so focused on your high. You feel him pull away slowly, but not before placing a kiss to your clit. Your chest heaves and you open your eyes in time to see him take the wand in his mouth and suck your come off of it, his cheeks hollowing around it. His eyes flutter as he pulls it out of his mouth. "tastes so good, mama," he moans. The sight makes you throb.

You lay there, trying to level out your breathing as he stands up to put the wand on the table next to the others. You groan when you catch sight of his dick, hard and nearly sticking straight up. Your mouth waters, your body desperately craving a taste of him. When you finally force your eyes away and look up at him, he's already looking at you, the grin on his face a product of you gawking at his cock. You raise your hand and beckon him with your pointer finger, letting your legs fall to either side. He bites his lip as he watches you splay yourself across the couch like a work of art.

He leans down to settle himself between your legs, and you grab the back of his head, bringing his ear centimeters from your mouth. You hear his breathing falter above you, and your lips brush the shell of his ear as you part them to speak. "I don't know how you do what you do Josh, but it's magic" you grind your hips up into his, his cock brushing against your stomach.

"It's not magic mama, it's metaphysics" he quips, leaning back to look you in the eyes. He brushes your hair back from your face and leans down, pressing a gentle kiss right between your eyebrows. "Someday I'll teach you about the crown chakra" he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and finally your lips. "and the heart chakra" he leans down, placing a kiss between your breasts. “and the solar plexus” he kisses just above your belly button, letting his lips linger there as he speaks "And if you’re interested” he kisses your skin again, “the sacral chakra" you feel him smile against your skin.

"And where's that one?" You sound breathless.

"I don't know if you're ready for that" He kisses back up your neck before meeting your eyes again, a smile spreading across his lips as you feel his finger brush against your centre.

"No please," you drawl, "enlighten me"

Without another word he slides two fingers into you, immediately curling upward and expertly bushing against your sweet spot. His calloused fingertips rough against your sensitive walls, moans falling from your lips as he fucks you intently with his fingers.

"I can't do this- fuck I need you. Now Josh." You practically beg, Irritation bubbling in your chest as you fiend for his cock, bucking your hips up against his fingers. He slips them out of you, sitting back on his heels and let out a surprised yelp when he grabs your ankles, hooking your knees over his shoulders. Your surprise quickly turns into desperation as he lines himself up with you and looks up at you. His eyes stay locked on yours as he grabs his cock, sliding the tip through your slick folds. “Look at you” he slides into you, both of you sighing as you completely envelop him. “So fucking beautiful” he groans out, keeping himself still inside you for only a moment, your cunt throbbing around him.

When he starts moving, it immediately takes your breath away, his hips snapping against yours. He repeats the motion again, and again, his skin smacking deliciously against yours. Rocking back and forth, he opens his eyes to look down at you to observe the blissed out expression on your face. You look up at him, your eyebrows tilting up in pleasure as you watch him move above you. His fingers are digging into your knees and the muscles across his torso are tensed up, the soft pink light from the salt lamp casting shadows across his hipbones as he fucks into you.

Feeling the weight of him above you and watching his curls bounce with every thrust is a spiritual experience on its own. Watching the sweat beading on his forehead, the way his eyes are closed tight in pleasure, it doesn’t take long at all for you to feel the familiar swell in between your hips. You reach your hands up and loop them around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You slide your tongue across his jawline, his salty sweat blooming across your tastebuds. The essence of him makes you groan as you reach his ear, taking his lobe between your teeth. He shudders, goosebumps raising on his skin and your breath ghosts his ear.

“I want to sit on it- fuck- let me ride you, baby- please” You tug on his his earlobe and he lets out a whimper. He sits up, bringing you with him as he shifts, leaning against the back of the couch, his feet resting on the floor.

You swing your leg over his lap and face him, pressing your ass to his thighs. His wet cock is pressed between your abdomens and it twitches against you as you grind down on his thighs. He wraps his hands around your waist, his hips bucking up against you as he tilts his head up to catch your lips in a messy kiss.

Without your lips leaving his you raise yourself up, snaking your hand between your sweaty bodies to wrap around his cock. You run your fisted hand up and down the length a couple times, his body jerking under your touch. You line it up with yourself, rocking your hips against the tip before letting just the tip slip inside you. Your breathing quickens and Josh has his eyes glued to where his body connects with yours.

“That’s it- watch it baby-“ you sigh, “watch me take your cock” his eyes snap up to yours, his lips parted.

“Christ, mama” he rasps, pressing his fingers harder into the meat of your hips. He begrudgingly pulls his eyes from yours and trails them back down to your pussy that has begun dripping down his cock.

Slowly, you sink down letting him fill you entirely. You both let out shaky moans as you fully settle onto him, your ass pressed against his thighs again. The stretch is heavenly and you stay still on him, relishing in the feeling of holding him, hard and throbbing inside of you.

As soon as you start to rock your hips gently against him he leans his head back against the couch, his neck on full display in the soft light. His lips part in a groan that comes deep from inside him, the sound makes you clench around him, earning a much softer whine.

You grind your hips down on his, your clit rubbing against his skin. You lean down to kiss his neck, sucking along his collarbone, moaning once again at the taste of him. You wish you could bottle it.

Licking a final stripe up his neck, you sit back up, changing the angle in which you’re fucking against him. You raise yourself up until he nearly slips from you before sinking back down again. You repeat this a few times, his hands roaming absentmindedly up and down your sides. Your thighs start to burn as you pick up speed, bouncing on his cock with a steady rhythm, your ass smacking against his thighs.

His hands find your hips and grips them roughly, guiding them up and down. “Shit-“ he wines, “right there mama, just like that pretty girl- fuck that pretty pussy” he breathes, his eyebrows tilted up in complete ecstasy.

You angle your hips forward, eliciting a near scream from your lips at the tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot over and over again. He starts bucking his hips up into you, meeting your thrusts with a lewd smack.

“Won’t last much longer baby-“ he pants out breathlessly. “you feel so heavenly- Fuck 'm so close” and you know how close he is from the way he’s twitching inside of you and the unintelligible combination of praise and pleading spilling from his lips.

You brace yourself against his chest with your palms, relentlessly fucking yourself into him, the burn in your thighs starting to feel gratifying rather than tiring.

“Come for me-“ you nearly growl, you don’t recognize your own lust soaked voice. “Let me feel it all” you slide your hands up to his shoulders, your left hand lingering to pinch one of his nipples between your fingertips.

His whimpered moans fill your ears as his hips jerk up into you with small broken movements. One of his hands snakes its way across your stomach, reaching up to brush his fingers against your breasts as he releases into you. The sound of his fucked out moans sends you over the edge, and you grab onto his shoulders as you come hard, clenching around him as the rhythm of your hips falters. You soak his cock, high pitched and silky moans wracking your body, your fingernails digging into his flesh.

The energy between you two is so intense in that moment that you feel like you could sob. It’s as if the pleasure coursing through his veins is flowing straight into yours as though you shared the same bloodstream.

His chest moves rapidly as he comes down from his high as well, still tightly holding onto your hips.

You fall forward into him, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck. Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears as you fully let yourself melt into him, his hands sliding up to your back to hold you.

He stays inside you as he runs his finger tips up and down your back. He huffs a blissed out laugh, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head, equally out of breath.

“You are incredible” he whispers in complete admiration. You hum against him, not able to bring yourself to speak a coherent word. You both are covered in a sheen of sweat, and you open your eyes to look out the window behind him, only to realize it’s fogged up.

Your breathing settles finally and you sit back up, sliding yourself off him to lay back against the couch. You drape your legs over his lap and clasp your hands behind your head. Josh runs his fingers up and down your shins before lolling his head to look over at you. An impish grin spreads across his face and he giggles softly.

“What?” You return the giggle lazily, uselessly drunk on his love.

"We have got to stop having sex in my office"

————————————————————————

btw, this is the Hozier song that he was playing

[leviathanlazarus]

Like Spring

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: 2233

Warnings: smut alert! [oral sex; unprotected sex] 18+ read at your own discretion. 

A little while back I got a request for some soft, sweet morning sex with Josh. Ask & you shall receive! Thank you for the request & I hope you enjoy. & thank you to @gretavfleet​ for the gif! 

—

It didn’t feel any different than the past few months, waking up with an empty space beside you. This morning, however, that empty space was still a little warm, and you rolled over to lay your arm over it, your hand poking past the covers which had been carefully laid back over you. The empty space smelled like Josh too, and you sighed as your conscious brain started to slowly come to life even with your eyes still closed. 

Gradually, the world intercepted your senses–Josh’s lingering scent on your sheets, the bright morning light streaming past the curtains, the softness of your covers and the clanging and metallic clinks coming from the kitchen. You opened your eyes and stretched, the clinking of silverware and dishes ringing louder in your ears, and awoke enough to get to the bathroom where a splash of water on your face and the “invigorating” spearmint toothpaste was enough to get you alert.

Then there was Josh himself, who made you feel completely awake and alive when you saw him in the kitchen, busying himself with cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them. Coffee was brewing; a pan was heating up on the stove with a pad of butter slowly melting in it; bread was being toasted and there were strawberries waiting to be sliced on a cutting board.

He was so busy whisking the eggs and humming to himself that he didn’t even notice you coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around him. 

Keep reading

[readyforthegarden]

may i request “are we really doing this” & “ do you need any help? with... you know.” with jake please?

thank you so much you beautiful soul<3

This prompt was meant for Jake! Also…this one got away from me. I hope you still think my soul is beautiful after reading the dirty things I wrote.

Warning: smut!

How the conversations for the night turned from harmless, benign topics to sex, you couldn’t say. You fought to keep the redness from your face as your friends laughed and discussed their most fun or craziest antics they’d gotten up to in and out of the bedroom. The fact that you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gotten laid was beginning to make you feel self-conscious.

“How ‘bout you?” your eyes darted up and your good friend Josh was gesturing to you with his drink. You gave a shrug and took a sip from your drink. “Come on, you have to have some story.”

“The last guy I hooked up with was really vanilla.” you admitted. “Couldn’t even convince him to do it doggy style. And frankly, I don’t think I’ve ever had good sex. Sorry to disappoint with my lackluster sex life. I’m sure Sam has plenty more stories for us, though.”

“Hey!” You took another sip of your drink as Sam tried to defend himself, then ended up rambling about a time where he and a girl hooked up in the woods behind their house while visiting family. As he spoke, your eyes travelled across the room, freezing when then were met with an intense stare. Of course, Mr. Cool and Mysterious Jake Kiszka would be staring you down after your admission. Just what you needed. He already seemed to think you were weird, mostly ignoring you when you’d hang out with everyone, you two were barely friends in the first place. You tore your eyes away from his as he subconsciously licked his lips, and focused on the girl next to you, who was talking about the girl she’d slept with recently.

As she described her experience, you felt your thighs clench and your face flush. She was detailing their tryst so vividly it was working you up. You drained your drink as she finished, the rest of the room beginning to fill with conversation again. You excused yourself and out your empty glass on a table, moving towards the bathroom and quickly shutting the door behind you. Moving forward, you gripped the edge of the sink before making your decision. You swiftly undid the button and zipper of your jeans, dipping your hand into your panties.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, your clit ready to come back to life after your little dry spell. You were about to come when a voice startled you.

“I’m so sorry!” You whipped around, pulling your hand from yourself to see Jake standing there, wide eyed. “The door was unlocked.”

“Oh my god!” You turned away, hastily trying to button up again when a hand stopped you. You saw Jake’s rings shine in the lighting of the bathroom as his hand rested on your arm.

“Do you need any help?” he asked you, his voice low. You stared at him in disbelief until he smirked. “With…you know.” He gestured down to your hands moving them away from the button of your jeans, and your breath caught in your throat. The next words from your mouth were whiny, making you feel so small.

“Yes please.” In and instant, Jake’s other arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his front tightly as his other delved into your panties. You left out a soft moan, his callused fingers feeling much better than your own did.

“Shh babygirl,” Jake whispered in your ear as his middle finger circled your clit. “We don’t need everyone to hear what we’re up to.” You closed your mouth, biting your bottom lip and you felt your peak begin to rise again. Tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder, you wound an arm around his neck, tugging his hair softly, eliciting a small growl from him.

“Jake please, Jake…” his name fell from your lips. “I was so close please.” He dipped his fingers down, entering you and letting the heel of his hand rub against your clit with every pump, making your thighs twitch. “Oh god yes, right there, fuck!” Jake helped you ride out your orgasm, pressing kisses to your exposed neck.

“Think we have time for a quickie?” He murmured into you ear before capturing your lobe between his teeth, nibbling it gently. You nodded and moved his hand out of the way, pushing your jeans and pants down to your ankles, giving him your best “come hither” look before bending over the sink. Jake grinned and unzipped his jeans as he walked towards you, admiring your round bottom.

As the haze of your first orgasm dissipated, you giggled, looking up at him in the mirror. He shot you a questioning look, tapping his erection on your left and right ass cheeks as he did so.

“I’m sorry, I just-“ you took a breath to calm your laughter. “Are we really doing this?” Jake paused, eyes studying your face.

“You want to, right?” He asked, voice soft. “If you don’t, that’s okay. you can say so.” You laughed again.

“Jake, I bent myself over a sink and took of my panties. I want this.” the light sparked back in Jake’s eyes, and he rubbed himself against your dripping pussy, making you hum. When he pressed against your entrance you wiggled your hips, making him chuckle softly as his hands gripped your hips, thumbs rubbing against your skin gently.

Jake only gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size, before pulling out quickly and slamming back into you, setting a near brisk pace. You slapped a hand over your own mouth, a muffled scream being trapped behind it.

“Shit babygirl, what I would do to hear that scream at full blast.” Jake grunted between thrusts. “Thought about this so much.” your brain was becoming mush from Jake’s fucking, but the secret he just let loose made your stomach clench. You couldn’t deny your mind hadn’t drifted to Jake on one or two lonely nights in bed. But he’d thought of you too? You were quickly pulled from your thoughts when you felt Jake lean forward his chest pressing to your back. “Touch yourself again for me.”

Your hand moved without another thought, rubbing against yourself in fast, quick circles. Your whimpers we’re flooding out of you as Jake’s breath was hot in your ear, your name being whispered once or twice as his hips began an erratic rhythm.

“Jake, I’m gonna-“

“Cum for me babygirl.” his rough voice sent you over the edge again, you orgasm crashing into you as Jake’s hips did, stilling and filling you with his release. You both stilled and caught your breath for a few moments before he pulled out. “Don’t move.” He reached around you and grabbed a handful of toilet paper and began cleaning you up, his touch gentle and he pressed a small, fluttering kiss to your right ass cheek before he stood up and cleaned himself off.

“That was…” you started as you pulled up your jeans, finally buttoning them back together. Jake was doing the same and he gave you a smile.

“It was.” he nodded, knowing what you meant. “We should do it again sometime.”

“You wanna fuck in your brothers bathroom again?” you joked, turning and looking in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping the somewhat melted mascara from under your bottom lid. Jake sidled up behind you, hands on your hips as he stared into your eyes in the mirror.

“Maybe.” he chuckled. “But I also have a pretty comfy bed. And like I said before, I wanna hear you scream, babygirl.” you looked him over in the mirror before smirking.

“We’ll what are we waiting for? Take me home, Kiszka.”

[leoslander]

hi if you repost this to twitter or something please tag credit to me. found this on a tiktok who found this on twitter with no credit. thanks and good night :)

Josh

josh is for girls who have never felt beautiful. he showers them in sunlight that he’s convinced pales in comparison. he wholly adores them and how can you not think you’re beautiful? would this man, who is sunshine incarnate, find just anything completely and utterly beautiful? well, he probably would, but would he LIE to you? absolutely not. josh makes you feel beautiful.

Jake

jake is for girls who have never felt powerful. he listens to their voice and takes their opinions seriously. he shows them they are worth the time and have a lasting effect. and when you’ve been nothing but swept under the rug, it’s new. he shows you to be confident in yourself and helps you see your worth.

Sam

sam is for girls who have never felt exciting. they love their life monotonously until he shows up, crawling through their window. he shows them fun, and laughter, and joy. he teaches them to laugh so hard their ribs hurt at the simplest things. he shows them to run and run and run till your lungs burn but you can finally see the waterfall he told you about. your life turns into an adventure.

Danny

danny is for girls who have never felt innocent. who have always been told their body is beautiful, but never anything else. his favorite sound is your laugh, and his favorite thing is whatever you’re focused on right now. he listens to your words and holds your hand with such gentle softness you feel like a kid again.

[garagebandvanfleet]

Sick Little Game

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! swearing, hair pulling, slight choking, slight praise kink, unprotected sex, sir kink

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: you and Jake love to tease each other, but he’s ready for the game to end

Notes: Awhile back Lexi told me to imagine Jake putting your hair up with a his own hair tie and I couldn’t stop thinking about it…thus Jake smut was written.

-

It was a game between the two of you. Jake knew it, you knew it, hell even his bandmates knew it. While unspoken, the rules were simple, see who breaks first. Jake had come into your life a little over a year ago on a random Tuesday afternoon in a coffee shop. The first few months were completely platonic, hanging out in groups and getting to know one another. 

You weren’t sure exactly when it changed, but soon group hangouts turned to just the two of you and FaceTime calls became daily. Waves goodbye turned to hugs and innocent touches turned teasing. And from the teasing touches, it seemed this game was born. It started out slow, Jake guiding you through the grocery store with his hand on your lower back. In return, you had kissed him on the cheek when he had let you pick the movie for your night in. But you both silently agreed that was becoming boring. 

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