#gvf fics

[joshym]

all i want

Pairing: ex husband!Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Even the deepest, most all-encompassing love is not always destined to endure.

Word Count: 25.3k + (this one definitely got away from me, lol)

Warnings: marriage ending in divorce, becoming parents, stress/anxiety, heavy emotions, drunkenness, arguing, angst, some good fluff

SMUT: 18+ ONLY: unprotected sex, oral (f!rec), a few risque photographs captured, a lot of kissing. maybe too much.

a/n: happy new year! 🤍 big thank you (& an even bigger apology over how long this took me) to this wonderful anon for their request. this was one of my favorites sitting in my inbox, & i wanted to be sure to give it the right amount of time to create it. love you, anon. 🤍

as always - i owe a huge, gigantic, massive thank you to my sister, @jakeyt. without her, this wouldn't be what it is. thank you, sis. for everything.

enjoy, my loves.

listen while you read.🤍

"All I want is nothing more

To hear you knocking at my door"

↟ᨒ.⊹݁⚘⊹⚘⊹⚘ ⊹.ᨒ↟

He was your best friend. 

The two of you were inseparable from the moment you met almost twenty years ago now. Two peas in a pod, as everyone would say. He’s been your favorite person in the whole world for the better part of your life. You can’t even recall a time that he wasn’t there – life before him just doesn’t exist to you anymore.

It wasn’t until your junior year of high school that things…changed. You began seeing him in a new light – he started to look different to you. Different in a good way, of course.

That was the year he started to grow into the man you’d find yourself falling deeply in love with, the man you knew you were destined to spend the rest of your conceivable days with. 

Three short years later, his was the face you’d see as you walked barefoot along the soft grass, littered in pink rose petals. Your hands held a small bouquet of the same roses that matched the petals at your feet, mixed with a few baby's breaths that you’d also braided in your hair. 

An intimate ceremony in early Spring was all you truly wanted. Just you, Jake, and a few people whom you both loved the most. Essentially an elopement – you just never felt the need to plan a ceremony of grandeur. It simply didn’t suit the two of you; it was never a show for you and Jake. It was simply you and Jake. He was your person. As long as you had him, a big celebration wasn’t necessary to you. Becoming his wife was the celebration.

You only had two stipulations for the decor; as many pink roses as your small, combined salaries could muster, and the Laramie mountains of Wyoming that you both grew up hiking together. The wildlife, peaceful and welcoming, served as beautiful additions to celebrate your matrimony. 

Your dress was made by your grandma's own two hands, woven entirely in delicate lace. The sleeves draped gracefully from your shoulders, and the small train that dragged behind you gathered pieces of the earth as you walked toward your love, though you didn’t mind the stains at all. Just the same, you never bothered to remove them. The earth and its gifts were just as much a part of the day as the wedding dress was.

As you made your solo walk down the earth's aisle, everything around you was a blur. Jake, the most handsome man your eyes had ever been given the pleasure to gaze upon, was the only thing clear to you in that moment. His hair, wind blown to beautiful perfection, and his skin, smooth and kissed by the sun. The white linen shirt he wore was left open around his chest, the mix of silver and gold charms decorating his skin, catching the rays from the eventide sun. 

You shared your first kiss as one at dusk, with the sun falling carefully below the mountains that proudly stood behind you. A sea of monarchs flew over the two of you, as if Mother Nature herself was celebrating your union, stamping her very own approval. 

There was nothing else in the world that mattered in that moment as you gazed into your new husband's eyes – his eyes that the golden rays themselves paled in comparison to. You both understood, from the instant your lips met, that your lives had truly just begun. 

The wedding was as near perfect as any could be. Picturesque, serene – the air felt fresh, anew. Your husband swayed you in his arms as you danced to nature's music, dancing until the sun closed her eyes and gave way for the moon to bathe you in her light. 

Mr. and Mrs. Kiszka — never was there a title you were more proud to wear. With the most delicate and dainty golden band around your ring finger, your bond was at last sealed.

Without the funds to take a proper honeymoon, you instead spent a quiet week in a secluded cabin in those very same mountains that joined you on your wedding day. You don’t remember leaving the little log home once during that week. Each day was spent just the two of you – no television, no intrusions from cell phones, no internet, just you and Jake. As it was always meant to be. You made love more times that week than you dare count, practically never bothered to put clothes on the whole time. You both knew they would be stripped off before you even had the chance to properly get dressed. 

It was the best week of your life, for reasons that are invaluable to you. Not only did you spend every second of that time loving your brand new husband, but the love from that week resulted in the creation of the very thing that represented the earth shattering adoration you shared for one another. 

The pregnancy came a little earlier than you had truly wanted. And it’s not that you weren’t over the moon excited for the addition, the two of you certainly weren’t as prepared as you wish you would’ve been. 

But, then again, is one ever truly prepared for such a thing?

It was scary. Terrifying, even. Jake doted over you in every way imaginable, taking care of your each and every need as they came about. Everything became about what was best for the baby, including scrounging to find a new place to live. The one bedroom studio just wasn’t going to cut it for your soon-to-be family of three. Though you’d always dreamed of a beautiful home with acres and acres of land on the outskirts of Casper, where you could gaze at the mountains from your own backyard, you just didn’t have the time or the money you needed to acquire such a thing. 

The old home you found in the city was beautiful, but your finances weren’t sufficient enough to sustain a mortgage just yet. Let alone all the things necessary for a newborn baby, your little girl, who was due to arrive in only a matter of months after you moved into your mostly unfurnished home. The stress eventually led to financial tension in your marriage. Jake had no choice but to take up a few jobs, along with his freelance photography, while you worked from home as much as you could. Your marriage was being tested early on, tested in ways neither of you were equipped to handle at the time. 

You still loved each other. God did you love each other. But even a love so profound and seemingly limitless wasn’t enough to endure each strain tossed your way. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t see eye to eye on, well, most everything.

But, of course, the number one priority was the baby. The only things you could agree on at that time were anything that had to do with her. The theme of her nursery, which you both decided should be mountains. The two of you spent weeks painting the same ranges that were a symbol of your love on her walls. Everything in her room depicted the very place she was conceived, and the place you vowed to love your husband for the rest of your life. 

Her name hadn’t been decided just yet, but when the moment was right, it came naturally. Though your new marriage was experiencing an upheaval, her name was something that didn’t require a second thought from either of you.

Laramie Rose Kiszka. 

Laramie, after the mountains that oversaw your union. Rose, representing the ones you held, the ones that led a path to the man you’d always loved. The only man you’d ever loved.

Every marriage has its hardships, though neither of you were expecting them to occur so soon. There are many things that happened during that time that you’ll always question. But one thing you undoubtedly knew then, and what you still know now –

The love in your heart for him, in spite of it all, has never wavered. 

↟ᨒ.⊹݁⚘⊹⚘⊹⚘ ⊹.ᨒ↟

She was born at the very beginning of the year, on the coldest January day you’d ever known. Flurries of snow spit from the sky as she entered the world, covering the entire town of Casper with its sparkling blanket of white. Your labor was anything but easy, lasting for nearly thirteen hours. The most painful thing your body ever experienced, yet the most beautiful thing came from it.

Jake was by your side every second of it. Holding your hand that was squeezing the life out of his, wiping the sweat from your forehead, placing a cool washcloth against your skin when you needed it. He was your strength in that moment, when you felt you’d all but lost yours as your body struggled to bring her into the world. 

And then, when she was ready, she came. The moment you heard her first cry, all the pain in your weak body subsided, replaced with a warmth that you can only describe as pure love. As the nurse handed her to you, when you looked into her eyes for the very first time, it was as though the last thirteen hours of painful labor no longer existed. You were healed the instant you saw her. 

“Welcome to the world, my sweet Laramie Rose,” you whispered to her as you held her against your bare chest for the first time. Her eyes held the entire world. She was everything beautiful and perfect that could ever be offered to you, in her tiny six pound body that you held safely for nine months. 

“My gorgeous girls,”  Jake said as he leaned over and kissed you on the lips, then your baby girl on her tiny forehead. “My family.” 

Tears fell from Jake’s eyes as he held her for the first time, the smile of a brand new, proud dad worn across his quivering lips. You’d never seen anything more pure in your life, and everything that had transpired over the last nine months just didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was Laramie, and the desire to protect her at all costs, with Jake by your side to ensure she’d have the best life both of you could give her. It was no longer about the two of you; it was about the three of you. 

Everything felt right in that moment. It was as if, at last, everything had all fallen into place exactly as it was always meant to. It felt as though Laramie was the very thing the two of you needed to get back to the root of it all, back to the way you felt the day you said ‘I do.’ She gave you a reason, a purpose. One that you weren’t prepared for, but one that you were so grateful for.

The first few months were hard, being thrown into the throes of parenthood before you were truly given the chance to enjoy being married. But, she was worth every second. Watching her grow and change, seeing her smile for the first time, admiring her innocent view of the world around her – you just couldn’t believe that you and Jake had a hand in creating something so perfect. 

It wasn’t easy, sure. But it was, and still is, the greatest joy of your life – to be her mother, and Jake to be her father. 

However, while your tiny girl was the sweetest, happiest baby, you and Jake were struggling to find your footing. The bills continued to pile, and Jake just couldn’t manage working more than one job any longer. It was a miracle when he landed a spot with an incredibly renowned photographer as an assistant, finally able to get his foot in the door with his craft. 

The money was good. It was great, actually. His first paycheck alone paid up all of the bills, including the late fees. The job made it possible for you to be a full-time, stay at home mom. Something you and Jake both agreed was the best thing for Lara. 

With the money Jake was making, you truly thought that the problems in your marriage would solve themselves. The stress of finances was the biggest problem between the two of you, and when that was no longer a hindrance, you felt your marriage would heal itself in no time. 

But, that wasn’t the case. 

Arguments, though petty and utterly pointless, soon became a daily occurrence. Multiple times a day, at that.

It was always the same things — he was gone all the time for work so you felt like you were parenting alone, and he felt his every effort to take care of his family was lost on you. 

None of it was true, but both of you were far too stubborn to admit to any wrong doings. The arguments resulted in awful things being said to one another. Your frustrations would cause your lips to utter things neither one of you meant – things you didn’t mean, at least – and that caused you to heavily resent one another. 

But, the biggest fight occurred when Jake proposed the idea of moving away. All for his job. He swore that it would be the best thing for your family, that he wouldn’t have to travel so often. A promising studio, located just east of Los Angeles, offered him a position for more than double the income he was bringing in. He essentially accepted the job before ever uttering a word about it with you. 

And that was your final straw. 

You felt betrayed in the worst ways, and the idea of leaving Casper, of leaving the place that held so much history for you and Jake, leaving the mountains…that wasn’t something you were willing to budge on. Up until that moment, you thought you were both in agreement that raising Lara here was what was truly best for her. 

At that point, you both knew what needed to be done.  

It wasn’t an easy choice to make, but it was the right one. The only one, in fact. Not what either of you wanted, but what you knew you needed. It was the hardest lesson of ‘want’ and ‘need’ that you’ve ever learned. 

Neither one of you wanted to raise your daughter in an environment like that, with parents who just weren’t equipped for what being married meant. Living together was simply too difficult for you and Jake. You were the same in so many ways, yet completely different when it truly mattered. It ultimately boiled down to consistent disagreements that were beyond repair.

So, when Lara turned a year old, you both decided that, for the sake of being the best parents you could be to your precious girl, splitting was the best thing you could do for her. And for yourselves. 

The divorce seemed to come as naturally as the wedding did. For the first time in over a year, there were no arguments, no words spoken out of anger. It was a seamless transition, but one that left a scar on your heart. 

It was Jake’s choice for you to keep the house, and it only made sense given the nature of his job and the chance he’d move away. And it was that very reason you were initially granted full custody of Lara. You were able to offer her a stable home that the judge felt needed prioritized. Jake pleaded with the judge, promised he wouldn’t leave if that’s what it took to see her more. But, the judge wouldn’t hear it. The pain in Jake’s eyes as he dutifully agreed to the arrangement still haunts you most everyday. 

But, none of it sat right with you. As far as Lara went, Jake had done nothing wrong. He was – is – the perfect dad. You didn’t want his time with her to be limited to a week or two in the Summer when your schedules would allow. That wasn’t good enough for you, for Jake, or for Lara. 

She needed her dad just as much as she needed you. 

It took some convincing, but the judge eventually agreed to split the custody evenly, so long as Jake didn’t move so far away. And you made it known that you would settle for no less than that. The problems with you and Jake were only between you and Jake. That custody agreement would’ve been a punishment for Lara just as much as it would’ve been for Jake, and that wasn’t okay with you in the least. You saw no purpose in taking away most of his parental rights, keeping your daughter from her dad, all because the two of you were incapable of living together. 

Because of your insistence on keeping Lara in Wyoming, Jake sacrificed a lot to ensure he’d see her as much as possible. He didn’t make the move that he could’ve easily made without being married to you to keep him from doing so. 

He chose to stay close by, a promise he made to your baby that he’d always make her a priority. Living separately, but within close proximity of one another, was the best and only option the two of you found some common ground on. 

Jake kept his job as an assistant photographer, but was made the lead photographer within months of your split. He leases a lovely studio apartment, only a few miles away from your house. You found work as an editor for The Lantern, a small publication that features free-lance writers from all over the country. The job, being something you’ve always had a passion for, made it possible for you to work from home. In spite of it all, after hitting endless bumps in the road, the path eventually smoothed out and led you both to lives of harmony with one another. 

And while you and Jake couldn’t live together, you soon discovered that you could work seamlessly as the perfect co-parenting team when apart. You couldn’t love her – or each other – properly while together, but god, how the two of you shower her with endless, thunderous love on your own. The love you had for one another has transformed into an even deeper love for her, the one that deserves it the most. 

Though it was painful in ways beyond your sweet Lara, the way you and Jake had chosen to raise her was truthfully much better than forcing yourselves to try and sustain a marriage. One that just wasn’t meant to work. A hard pill to swallow, but one that allowed for healing and, most importantly, the promise of the best life you could offer your daughter. 

↟ᨒ.⊹݁⚘⊹⚘⊹⚘ ⊹.ᨒ↟

The last two years have gone by so quickly – too quickly. You’ve watched as Lara has grown into the most lively, feisty almost four year old, with her messy auburn ringlets that seem to hold a life of their own. Her eyes, the exact shape of Jake’s and their hazel color mimicking yours, are so vibrant and full of the life ahead of her. 

She’s growing so fast, faster than you can keep up with. She’s changing everyday, her personality developing more and more in every little thing she does. She’s a lot like you in plenty of ways, but you’d argue she’s even more like her dad. And if you were honest, that’s one of the best things about her.

She’s endlessly curious, finding wonder in everything around her. Bright — perhaps even too sharp for her own good at times — she’s just shy of her third birthday, yet speaks as though she’s lived a lifetime. She can make a story out of anything, her imagination boundless. Her first words, after ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’,’ were ‘once upon a time.’ She gives a name to every bird she sees, talks to the flowers in the backyard as if they’re her life-long friends. All of these things that remind you of Jake, of what it was like to grow up with him.

Though she’s still so little, you can see the admiration in her eyes when she looks at him. She loves him – probably more than any little girl could love her dad. She loves you, too. Her love is unconditionally pure and whole. And while she is completely attached to you, with her dad, it’s different. 

But you can’t fault her, and you could never be envious of her adoration for him. He is, in every sense, the easiest person to love. And, as you’ve known for the better part of your life, the easiest to fall in love with. 

It pains you to admit, but you’re not sure you’ll ever love anyone the way you loved – love – Jake. Though you’re no longer together, in your eyes, Jake was your first and last. No matter how hard he was to be married to.

In the two years since your split, you’ve not been on a single date since your signature inked the divorce documents. You’ve been asked more than a few times, and while you have said yes to most of them, you find yourself backing out at the last minute every time. 

It’s not that you haven’t wanted to move on from Jake, it’s that you can’t. 

He’s still very much a part of your life. The two of you are always in touch, all for Lara. Constant communication with the only man you’ve ever loved, being the mother of his beautiful daughter, it’s impossible to move on from him.

Jake, however, didn’t seem to have a problem moving on from you right away. In fact, he’s moved on several times. You’ve lost count of the dates he’s gone on since you, though none of them have ever stayed around long enough to meet Lara. 

While you’re not privy to the true reasons why, you’re willing to place a bet or two on the fact that they weren’t keen on dating a man whose daughter will always come before anyone else. It’s possible that he just couldn’t commit to giving them the attention they desired from him.

Still yet, the fact that he has gone on so many tells you that he’s more than over you. And while you know you shouldn’t care the way you do, it just can’t be helped. Your marriage was awful, but it doesn’t change that he’s still Jake. The man you’ve spent almost nearly all of your life with, in one way or another. 

So, that’s another way that you two are different – he can go on dates, enjoy being a young, single man with movie-star looks, and you are destined to be a single mom for the rest of your life because you can’t.

You often wonder if the true reason you’ve never gone out with anyone is because you’re hopeful that, someday, you and Jake could work things out. Try again, dig up the love you once held so deeply for one another.

But, it’s a foolish hope, you’ve come to know. Aside from a few wandering looks and his famously warm smiles, he’s never shown even the slightest interest in mending things with you beyond a co-parenting relationship. 

No matter what, useless hope or not, he is still the father of your daughter. Always will be. And there’s not a single person you’d want more than him to have that role. 

But you’ll never deny that you wish things would’ve turned out a little differently. 

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Incessant knocking forces you out of your peaceful dream. Your eyes fly open, your body jolting to a seated position on your bed before your brain even registers what’s happening. The knocking then happens again, somehow louder than the pounding of your heart from the intrusion. That’s when you at last begin to come to. 

There’s no way he’s here already, you absently think, frantically searching for your phone that’s buried somewhere in the midst of your tangled bedsheets. Once you finally locate it, you note that it’s not even half past seven yet. He’s not supposed to be here for another three hours. 

Your phone alarm was set accordingly, but the much earlier Jake alarm clearly had other plans. 

This isn’t exactly an unusual occurrence. It’s not out of the norm for him to show up a little early from time to time to pick up Lara for their ‘daddy daughter date’ he plans a few times a month, separate from her nights she stays with him.

Three hours early, though, is certainly pushing it. And as the knocking at the door, loud and abrasive as ever continues, you’re left with no choice but to lift your tired body out of your warm bed, grab the nearest garment to cover your oversized t-shirt and thong clad body, and reluctantly trudge toward the source of what woke you up. 

The image of you is much less than appealing when you answer the door. Your hair, a tangled mess of two day old curls, and remnants of yesterday's eyeliner and mascara smeared on your eyes. The only thing within reach to cover your body was an old, torn robe that, coincidentally, belonged to your ex husband once upon a time. You certainly didn’t do that on purpose. This robe was designated yours long before you took your vows. It didn’t even cross his mind to take it when he moved out, knowing it hadn’t been truly his in years. 

“Sorry, I thought you’d already be up and around,” he chuckles, a little hesitantly, perhaps due to the annoyed expression painting face. He takes one look at the robe that you’re certain he recognizes, curling his lips in an awkward grin as his eyes flick up and down your tired body. “Guess I should’ve known better with you,” he winks, taking a step inside the foyer before closing the door behind him. 

You could feel your cheeks warm at the sound of his voice. It frustrates you to no end that your ex still has an effect on you. Why are you so embarrassed for him to see you this way? He was married to you, afterall. He’s seen you in far worse shape than this. 

Still – you’d like to be a bit more put together when he comes by. Maybe just to ensure that he feels the same way you do about him, give him something to be flustered about. Though, you know that’s nothing more than a mere pipe dream. 

Jake pads down the hall to her bedroom where she’s still tucked away in her brand new big girl bed, an early birthday gift from her dad. You were afraid his knocking might’ve woken her, but, following close behind Jake, you see her still lost in her quiet slumber. 

Every stuffed animal she owns is cuddled against her, her hair almost as disheveled as yours, until Jake's hand brushes a few curls away from her face. You’re standing at the doorway, watching him wake her, kissing her scrunched nose until her eyes open. 

It takes her only a moment to realize it’s her daddy here to wake her this morning, and when she feels the familiar locks of mousey hair falling over her, she leaps out of her mess of stuffies to hug his shoulders, squealing as he picks her up the rest of the way, hugging her close too his chest.  

The smile that befalls you just can’t be helped. Her reactions to seeing him will always send a flood of warmth to your heart. She’s practically shaking with pure, childlike excitement , giggling as he covers her face in kisses. 

“I’ll get her ready,” Jake says between kiss attacks, catching the smile still on your face as he looks at your tired form. “You can go back to bed if you want.” His smile is as bright as the sun peeking through the blinds of her windows. 

While going back to bed does sound nice, you’re already up. There’s no sense making yourself begin the day for a second time. With as much as you need to do today, sleeping a few extra hours would only prolong the inevitable. “Well, I’m already up. Might as well stay that way,” you say, though you know your tone came across a little snarkier than you intended. The sleepiness talking, of course. 

Bouncing Lara on his hip, Jake raises his eyebrows at your response, grinning from the corner of his mouth. The room stays silent for a moment, save for Lara’s relentless giggling from tickles from her dad. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant –,” you try alleviating the sudden awkward tension you’ve created, finding it hard to do so. You used to be able to say anything to Jake, and there was never an uncomfortable moment with him. My, how things have certainly changed.

“She’d love it if you got her ready,” you continue, being sure your tone reflects the sincerity behind your words. “I just mean I have a lot to do today, and it’s probably a good thing you came so early or I wouldn’t have had a reason to get out of bed until much later.” 

Jake smiles, lifting Lara in the air through a boisterous fit of tiny giggles. “That sound good to you, little one? You trust your daddy to put together a stylish outfit for our day of fun?”

As loud as her little lungs will allow, she screeches the word yes! through an excited, full baby-toothed grin. He gives her cheek one more smooch before setting her back down on her bed and walking towards her closet, shuffling through the neatly hung, color coded clothes. 

“Still taking her to the aquarium?” You ponder aloud, watching him pull out one of her favorite winter ensembles to wear. Her bright pink corduroy overalls, paired with the softest white turtleneck. Upon catching a glimpse of what he chose for her to wear, her approval is obvious in her excited shrill. 

“Yeah, I figured she’d enjoy the new shipwreck exhibit they just added,” he says as he helps her get dressed, chuckling at her insistence to do it herself. She does pretty well for the most part, only having trouble getting the snaps to close on the straps. 

Jake’s never been the best at taming her unruly curls, and after watching him struggle for a moment, you decide to step in and offer a hand. 

“Are you sure you’re not the one who’s most excited for the new addition?” You sneer, jokingly. The comment forces a laugh from him and a knowing tilt of his head as he hands you a pink hair tie. 

With one more spritz of water from her purple spray bottle, her ponytail is laying perfectly. Wetting your fingers a bit, you twist a few of her ringlets, making them a little more defined.

After getting her teeth brushed, her socks and boots on her feet, and her purple puffer on, she’s ready for her day. Jake has planned a quick McDonald's breakfast, the aquarium, and lunch at Johnny Jay’s before he has to get ready for a photoshoot with some clients today. Even on his work days, he still makes time for her. Something that you know she’ll always be grateful for. 

You lift her in your arms for a big hug, kissing her cheeks so much that she’s belly laughing. Telling her you love her more than the mountains, and after she says it back in her sweet voice, you bid them both a farewell. 

“I’ll have her back around one o’clock. That sound good to you?” He tells you while he walks through the front door, hand in hand with little Lara.

“Sounds good to me. You two have fun, okay?” 

“We sure will,” he says, turning back to look at you. “Wave bye to momma!”

Her smile is infectious as she waves her tiny, gloved hand to you, the grin on her face nearly mimicking her dads. 

Waving back, blowing kisses for her to catch, you watch him secure her in her car seat before he sits himself in the front seat of his black Buick. 

You're not sure if it's out of habit or a deep-rooted maternal instinct, but you always find yourself standing outside, watching as he backs out of the driveway and drives down the street. There's a certain comfort in seeing him safely on his way, enough to ease your mind until his text arrives, letting you know they’ve made it to their destination safely.

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You’ll never get used to how quiet the house is when Lara is gone. No matter how often she’s with her dad, it’s always a shock to you when her voice isn’t echoing off the walls. It should serve as some relief to you, to have the silence and the time to do the things you can’t normally do with her around.

But, it’s just not that way for you. Never has been. Lara has never been a nuisance for you, never been too much in any aspect. She’s almost always attached to your hip, following you around the house and watching your every move, helping you with little mundane tasks the best she can. 

Because of that, it’s so very strange when you don’t have your tiny shadow by your side. 

Nevertheless, as much as you miss her presence, it is easier to get things done when she’s spending the day with her dad. So, you’ll be sure to get everything you’ve needed to do out of the way before she’s due back home. 

Grocery shopping was first on the list, a trek that has proven to be difficult with a toddler that needs constant entertainment. Though not impossible with her, it’s a bit harder to get in and out of the store in a timely manner. 

But, today, you managed to cross each thing off your list in less than thirty minutes. And that is a feat of great magnitude. When Lara is with you, it takes double, sometimes triple that. And it doesn’t help that she begs for nearly everything she sees. The last time she took a trip to the store with you, she spotted a purple mini digital camera, decorated with a rainbow unicorn around the lens. She cried and cried when you weren’t able to get it for her. And it wasn’t because you didn’t want to, of course. Your budget for the day just didn’t have any room for it.

She cried the rest of the time you were at the store, such sad and heartbroken tears, and there was nothing you could do to offer her any solace. Her cries only worsened as you left the store, coming to the realization that she really wasn’t getting the very thing her little heart desired the most that day. You even shed a tear or two over it, feeling like you’d somehow failed her as her mom. You know that’s a dramatic take on the whole thing, but it’s how you feel every time you’re the reason her feelings get hurt.

It’s been a few weeks since then, and while she has more than likely forgotten all about it, you still feel awful for turning her down. It’s not often that you tell her no, but you had no choice that day. How do you explain the concept of a budget to a two-year old? She just doesn’t understand, and you can’t fault her for that.

So, when you saw it today, and saw that it was on sale for $19.99, you couldn’t resist getting it for her. Her very own camera, and though it’s too early to tell, this could perhaps be the catalyst in following in her daddy’s footsteps. You’re almost certain that’s the reason she was so drawn to it in the first place, because she sees one hanging around her daddy’s neck almost every time she’s with him. 

With the camera, along with her favorite treat of chocolate Teddy Grahams, there’s no doubt she’ll be thrilled when she sees her surprises awaiting her when Jake brings her home today. 

Some might say you spoil her a bit too much. You and Jake, both guilty of it. But, that’s not how you see it. She’s as grateful as any toddler could be. And, though she is so young, she cherishes everything the two of you do for her. She says thank you as many times as she can. She gives out hugs and kisses to show her appreciation. She’s not entitled, by any means. Her heart just wasn’t made that way. 

And it’s all of those reasons that made your heart ache when you had to tell her no a few weeks ago. 

Being able to buy it today, and getting to surprise her with it fills that tiny hole in your heart that forms when you can’t give her what she longs for. 

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Grocery shopping, even without a toddler, is a rather exhausting journey. To say the very least. All you think about right now is a coffee from your most treasured spot in town, something to keep your motivation and energy up for the rest of your list of things to get done today. 

The caffeine-induced relief is already hitting you as you walk into the Copper Cup Coffee, your tried and true brew of choice. The place you find yourself landing at often when you’re in need of a good pick me up. The bitterly sweet aroma of the coffee is one that will always give you a sense of comfort. 

After placing your order of your staple cappuccino with an extra shot with the lovely barista, you find a small table in the corner next to the window to sit at while you wait for your drink, enjoying the view of downtown Casper. 

But as you’re eying the bustling streets filled with locally owned boutiques and cafes, you’re suddenly becoming all too aware of a man at the opposite end who, as best as your peripheral vision can tell, seems to be looking right at you. And not just looking, staring. 

You’re so caught off guard by it that you nearly miss them calling your name to pick up your coffee from the counter. They have to call it a second time for it to fully register, and you quickly jump from your seat to retrieve it. 

It’s then that you’re able to properly look at the man who’s been eyeing you for the last few minutes. And when he begins to approach you as you’re making eye contact, toting his iced coffee in hand, your mind suddenly digs up a memory from the past. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be y/n, would you?” He asks with a sweet smile as you take your coffee from the counter, thanking the worker that placed it there. 

You didn’t recognize who he was initially, but upon hearing his voice, you know exactly who this man is.

Cole Robinson, a friend of yours and Jake’s from high school. One that you certainly spent a lot of time with, though Jake grew less fond of having him around when the two of you developed feelings for each other. Cole was the popular guy, the sporty type. The kind of guy that had a new love interest every other week. And, according to Jake, Cole had always been infatuated by you. 

You never noticed it, but Jake swore it was so. Because of that, and a slew of other reasons unbeknownst to you, their friendship didn’t sustain much longer than a year or so after graduation. Last you knew, Cole married a girl you also went to high school with. Some cheerleader named Olivia you knew in passing. 

It’s a bit of a shock to see him, to see how much he’s changed. He was never ugly to you, but you didn’t exactly find him attractive when you were teens. 

But now – well, he’s certainly not the same Cole you knew all those years ago. He’s much taller than the version of him that you remember, and a bit more broad in the shoulders. A lot more, actually. 

His hair was usually unkempt and plastered to his forehead from the football helmet he often wore. But the man standing before you today is sporting perfectly quaffed, dark brown locks, with the sides nicely faded. 

“C-Cole? Oh my gosh, I hardly recognized you,” you admit, attempting to conceal your flustered state as his smile, full of stark white, perfectly straight teeth, widens at your realization of who he is. “I mean you just – you look different.”

He sighs a chuckle through his grin, looking down at his feet as he runs a hand through his styled hair and scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I shot up a few inches. Learned how to use a hair dryer,” he giggles, his sky-blue eyes flitting to yours once more. “And you, well –,” he starts, gesturing his hand toward you as he awkwardly shuffles his feet, crossing one foot over the other before he places both hands in the pockets of his dark wash jeans. “You’re as pretty as ever. You must have an endless supply from the fountain of youth or something.” 

The heat rises to your cheeks at his words, feeling as though all of the blood in your body is sitting right on your face. Ever since having Lara, you’ve feared your looks have dwindled with motherhood. So, hearing someone say that to you (someone who looks like this, no less) is a bit flattering. 

You’ve found yourself at a loss for words, not knowing how to respond to a compliment such as that. But as you’re pondering what to say, you notice Cole staring at your left hand, and while you can’t be totally sure as to why, you have an inclination he could be searching for signs of marriage. 

And that has you remembering that he is – was, based on his own lack of a ring – married. But before you can begin to ask him how Olivia is doing, only to gauge whether or not he really is separated from her, he beats you to it with a question that floods your heart with an odd mix of emotions. “How's Jake doing these days? It must be cool being married to such a renowned photographer. I’ve seen his work, he’s really good!” 

Funny you should ask, you internally mull over, cupping the warm drink a little tighter in both of your hands. 

With an uncomfortable weight sitting on your chest, you prepare yourself to share the news that has been your least favorite to speak about in the time you’ve been split from Jake. “We um…well, we’re actually not married anymore.” No matter how many times you say it, the words still leave a stinging feeling against your tongue. His face softens after hearing what you’ve said, a different sort of smile befalling his lips. “But to answer your question, he’s doing really well. I actually just saw him, he’s with our daughter right now. They’re on a little date before his photoshoot here in a few hours.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that – that you’re not married anymore.” His tone reflects sincerity, yet his smile continues to widen. “You know I – I’ve been through a divorce, too. Liv and I, we just wanted different things. I didn’t want to indulge in whatever big city dreams she had at the time, she didn’t want to stay here. I think we just got hitched too young, you know?”

Boy, do I. 

“But it worked out in the end. She went away and found her dream job, I stayed in the place I love and found mine.” 

His story strikes a particular chord in your mind, one that brings you back to a time when you and Jake had countless disagreements over whether to stay in Wyoming or leave for the sake of his blossoming career. Of course, you didn’t want to leave. Especially with the promise of a new baby, you didn’t have the desire to raise her anywhere else. Aside from that, you just couldn’t leave the mountains. 

After the divorce, Jake had every opportunity to leave like he had always wanted. But, knowing that you would keep Lara here, he chose to travel in lieu of moving somewhere that would keep him from seeing her whenever he wanted. The guilt over that still plagues you, but you know, and he knows, deep down, that it was the best choice for Lara. And, it’s worked out rather well thus far. He’s never once complained, though you know his situation isn’t always easy on him. 

“I understand that completely,” you admit, feeling drawn to empathise with him and his love for the place you also chose to stay in. “But I’m curious – what was the dream job that kept you here?”

He huffs a laugh, gingerly sipping the last of his iced latte. “It’s kind of funny,” he says. “I really didn’t need to stay for the job I have. It’s a remote job, I could've worked it from anywhere. Kind of the irony of it. But I’m glad I stayed here. I prefer it to the big city life.” Taking one more long swig of his drink, he finishes it off and tosses it in the trash behind him. “I write for a living. Freelance, mostly. I publish editorials and such for a pretty small publication you’ve probably never even heard of. It’s a pretty decent gig, though. Flexible enough.”

A freelance writer, for a small publication…surely not. It’s a coincidence, no doubt. But there’s no way it’s more than that. Still, a curious mind tends to wonder. “Where are your works published? It’s funny, I’m actually an editor for a pretty niche publication.”

“It’s called The Lantern. And yeah,” he pauses, chuckling to himself. “I’d say mine is pretty niche, too. Not too popular, but I kinda like that about it.”

Well. That certainly abolishes that whole coincidence theory you convinced yourself of.

“You write for The Lantern?”

“You actually know it?” He asks, astonished. 

“I’d sure hope I do, given I’m one of the editors.”

The way his bright-blues widen at your reveal is almost comical, and it certainly makes you crack a smile in response. “No kidding? Man, when they say the world is small, they aren’t bullshitting,” he says, subtly shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Do you use a pseudonym?” You ask. “Because I’m sure I would’ve come across one of your pieces by now.” 

“I do, actually.” He runs a hand through his quaffed ‘do once more, managing to keep it as perfectly styled as it was when he first approached you. “And I’ll tell you, but you should know that once I do, you’ll be the only one who knows my little secret.” 

“Well, I’ll be sure to hold it sacred,” you say, cheeks flushing yet again. 

He then leans closer to you, motioning for you to meet him halfway. His fingers barely brush the skin of your cheek when he cups his hand over his mouth near your ear. “    “

You’re taken aback at his secret, shocked to discover who he is. You certainly know his work, but not for any good reasons. His grammar is always subpar at best. He hardly punctuates correctly, if at all sometimes. Lara writes better than him, and she can’t even form complete sentences yet. 

“That’s you?” You say with fake excitement, hoping to god that your expression doesn't mimic your true feelings about it. “I’ve read your work plenty of times. I-it’s great!”

Even you weren’t convinced by that. But, it seems he is. And that’s all that really matters at the moment. His growing smile would be an indication of that, and even though this man is one of the worst writers you’ve come across during your time working for The Lantern, you can’t help but be drawn to his charm. 

“Listen I–I know this is probably way too soon, but I feel like I need more than just a few minutes in a coffee shop to catch up with you.”   “If you’re free tomorrow night, we could continue this conversation over dinner. Only if you’re okay with that, of course.” 

There it is. 

You’d  figured it was coming, but you’d also hoped it wouldn’t get to that point. And it’s not because of him, your reservations over dating are hard to push through. Hard enough that you’ve not gone out with anyone once since Jake. 

If you agree to this, Cole will be your first date in years. More years than you care to count at the moment. Something about it feels wrong, but you’re wondering if it only feels wrong because you want it to. 

You’ve suddenly come to the realization that dating may never feel right, because you haven’t let it. But, you know you can’t live the rest of your life like this. If Jake can move on, go on as many dates as he wants without a second thought, well, you can do the same. 

“Dinner sounds wonderful,” you say, feeling your heart race in your chest as you agree to something you honestly never thought you’d agree to ever again. And, to your utter surprise, you’re actually excited for it. Something you weren’t prepared to ever feel again over the prospect of  dating. “It sounds really wonderful, actually.”

↟ᨒ.⊹݁⚘⊹⚘⊹⚘ ⊹.ᨒ↟

Right at the top of the hour, you hear Jake’s Buick rumbling in the driveway. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Everything you needed to do today is done, and just as you’ve finished hanging up the last load of laundry, Jake’s made it back with Lara.

You open the front door before he even has a chance to get her unbuckled from her seat, hearing her gleefully yell for you when she catches sight of you walking toward the Buick. 

“Hi, sweet girl!” You say to her, to which she says hi right back, waving her tiny hand as Jake removes the last buckle. “Did you have fun today?”

“She sure did,” Jake giggles, handing you a giant plastic bag full of sea creature toys. “She used me for all I’m worth in the form of stuffed animals.” 

“I’d say so,” you chuckle as you note the sheer weight of this thing.  

He helps her down from the car and she instantly attaches herself to you, giving your legs as big a hug as she can. 

“I better get goin’,” he tells you as he shuts the back door, leaning down for one more hug and kiss from Lara. “Better give all of those guys names,” He says, pointing to the full bag of new stuffies he bought for her. “I’m counting on some good ones, okay?” 

She agrees to that as she tells him goodbye, hugging him tight around his neck. 

He offers you a farewell as he begins to walk to the driver's side door, but before he makes it all the way inside, you pick Lara up and follow him around the car. “Hey, Jake?” 

He hums as he turns to face you, holding the car door open. “What’s up?”

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night? I mean, are you working or anything? I may need you to sit with Lara for a few hours.”

He pauses in thought for a moment, shaking his head as a smile begins to form on his lips. “No, I don’t have anything going on. Why? Got a hot date?” He laughs, throwing you a sly wink.

You know he’s joking, but his question still sent lightening bolts through your body when he said it. And the fact that your answer to it is most certainly not what he’s expecting is working to sharpen your nerves all the more. “Actually, yeah. I have a date tomorrow, yes.” 

The look on Jake’s face is one you’re not so familiar with. You can’t read it, but what you do know is he was caught off guard at your confession. He’s silent for more than a few seconds, longer than you would like. But after taking a moment to register, his grin begins to form once more. “No problem, I’ll come sit with her. Just give me a time and I’ll be here.”

You thank him as you begin to walk toward the house, Lara held snugly against your hip. You hear the car door shut, assuming he’s inside of it and reading himself to leave. 

But when you don’t hear the engine start, and when you do hear the clicking of his boots against the pavement, you realize he’s walking in your direction. 

“So who was able to finally get you to agree to a date?” He says as you turn on your heel to face him, adjusting Lara in your arms as she’s beginning to doze off, her head laying gently against your shoulder. “Do I know ‘em?”

As a matter of fact – 

“Y-yeah, I guess you used to know him.” 

You shouldn’t be anxious to tell him who it was. You know that. But, the fact that he wasn’t Cole’s biggest fan back in the day has you hesitant to tell him. Especially given his apparent crush on you that had Jake on edge more than once during that time. 

Still yet, part of you feels he has the right to know. Why? You can’t be sure. But you’re also not too keen on keeping things from him. 

He’s looking at you softly, inquisitively. You can’t be sure, but if you had to guess, you’d say he’s holding his breath at the suspense over the name that’s about to leave your lips. 

“Do you remember Cole? From high school?”

That look he gave you when you confirmed his date theory is back. Only this time, it’s here to stay. There’s no smile following the dropping of his features, the confused curve of his dark brows. “Wait – Robinson? You’re going on a date with Cole Robinson?” He asks, pure shock laced in his question. 

When you timidly nod your head to corroborate his suspicion, he grins again. But this grin is more of a mocking one, something you certainly didn’t expect. 

“You’re going out with that airhead? Geez,” he huffs, giggling more to himself than anything. “I told you that numbnuts always had the hots for you. I thought he got married to Olivia – did that fall apart, too?”

The way he said it, did that fall apart, too? – it felt more like he was insinuating that that was what happened to the two of you as well. It felt more like he was asking, “were they destined to the same terrible fate as you and I?”

It hurt to hear him say that, for whatever reason that you can’t quite pinpoint at the moment. You know he didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it. That’s your problem, not his. 

Regardless, he is correct in his assumption. 

“They split a while ago. She wanted to live the big city life, and he just didn’t have the same desire to do so.” 

A cock of his eyebrow tells you he caught on to the same parallels you did when you had that conversation with Cole. He sighs as he rubs his lower chin, then adjusts his black Ray-Bans before tucking the same hand in the pocket of his linen khakis. “What’s mister Cole up to these days, anyway?” 

You ignore the slight sneer in the way he enunciates Cole’s name, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Well, funny enough, he’s a writer for The Lantern. He writes anonymously.” 

“Oh, a writer,” he says, his smirk softening some. “I guess that works out pretty well, then. What are the odds, huh?” 

His tone sounds more sincere than before. Sincere enough, at least. “Yeah, I thought so too,” you agree, matching his smile as best you can. For a moment, you wonder if you’re truly making the right choice in going on this date. His reaction certainly forces you to question it, but ultimately, the decision feels like the right one. Even if nothing comes from it, at least you can say you tried. 

Tried to put yourself out there, tried to give someone else a shot at winning your heart, tried moving on from Jake.

“Like I said, just let me know what time I need to be here. I’ll see you then, okay?”

With that, he nods his head and walks back toward his Buick, leaving you with a thousand different emotions circling your brain all at once. A mix of guilt and excitement being the most prominent, the ones that, on their own, are overwhelming enough. But when they work together, it’s a conundrum that leaves a far more intense feeling in the wake. 

↟ᨒ.⊹݁⚘⊹⚘⊹⚘ ⊹.ᨒ↟

Jake will be here any second to stay with Lara, and you tried to be ready before then. But after spending the last hour trying on outfits, and still having no clue what to wear, your hope of being ready by that time is dwindling further and further. 

Precious as little Lara is, she’s been particularly in need of your attention this afternoon. Having to stop what you’re doing every few minutes to give that to her hasn’t helped in getting yourself ready by a certain time. 

And as if you’re not petrified enough over the date itself, the thought of seeing Jake before and after said date has your head in quite the tizzy. 

So, the combination of that mixed with the sweet toddler that needs you right now is enough to make you want to back out of this whole thing completely. That, along with the fact that you’re a bit put off by a recent text you received from Cole. 

The initial plan was that he’d come pick you up, but he has since asked for you to meet him at the restaurant. 

Your feminist view doesn’t mind driving yourself at all. You’ve never needed to rely on a man for things as silly as transportation. 

But, being this is your first date in god knows how long – well, it’d be nice to receive the full treatment. 

Alas, you won’t raise a fuss over it. Perhaps it’s a good thing to have a getaway car in case the evening turns to utter shit. A terrible way to view it, of course. But you’re cynical to your core. 

After breaking a sweat over trying on your fifth outfit of the evening, you decide to hell with it. The fifth and final ensemble will have to do. You don’t have the energy to keep doing this, and time continues to work against you. If you want to be able to leave as soon as Jake gets here, which will be in a matter of minutes, this look wins the trophy. 

Though, it is a tad revealing. A little more risque than any outfit you’ve put on your body since giving birth. It’s probably nothing to someone who hasn’t had a baby in the last few years, but for you, it’s a bit of a bold choice. 

Being a mom, it feels a little strange to be wearing the cropped knitted, dark emerald sweater and a black suede mini skirt. An outfit you’re pretty sure you’ve owned since high school. You’ve certainly earned a few more curves since then, but the pieces surprisingly fit pretty well, especially considering it’s been about seven years since you last wore them. 

You certainly don’t remember your boobs filling out the sweater nearly as much then, or your ass stretching the suede fabric the way it does now. But, as you’ve reminded yourself of at least a hundred times since yesterday, this is your first date in years. There’s no harm in looking a little sexier than normal. Just because you’re a mom doesn’t mean you can’t show off a little. This body of yours went through hell. It’s okay to put a little pride in it. 

You do, however, want to throw on a pair of black pantyhose underneath the skirt. Mostly for some extra warmth, as it’s more than a few degrees below freezing outside. Though you’re no stranger to the frigid Wyoming winters, it’s probably best to add a few more layers. 

So, after wiggling yourself into those, putting on some black heeled ankle boots, the outfit is about as good as it’ll get. And, looking at every angle possible in the bathroom mirror as you finish up your makeup, you’re actually really happy with the way you look. The first full face of makeup you’ve worn in quite a while, and freshly washed and styled hair in lieu of the frizzy mane you typically sport. 

Even little Lara approves, telling you that you look like a ‘Disney Princess’ in her sweet voice. You’re certainly no princess, but you’ll  accept the compliment, no less.  Afterall, they say kids her age are always honest. They don’t know how to lie just yet. So, maybe there’s a little truth to her statement. 

Or, she just loves her mom enough to equate her to such beauty. And that alone is enough to boost the remaining bits of confidence you need to make the final move of getting yourself out of the house. 

As you add one more coat of hairspray to ensure these curling iron waves stay put, you hear a knocking at the front door, followed by quick footsteps in that direction and ‘daddys here!’ at an ear-piercing decibel. 

And suddenly, the nerves are back in full force, sitting sharply in your chest and the pit of your tummy. There’s no question as to why. Jake will always make you at least a little nervous every time you see him, but tonight's events are only serving to heighten it even more. 

Yet again, you find yourself begging the question; why does he still have this effect on you?

You haven’t made it out of the bathroom yet to let him in, but Lara, with all of her tiny might, has somehow managed to unlock the door. (Something she’s not been able to do until tonight.)

“Oh! I didn’t expect you behind the door, little one!” Jake’s voice sounds just as shocked as you feel. So, finishing up on your lips and smoothing down a few unruly baby hairs, you shut off the light to leave the bathroom as he asks her a question. “Have we officially learned how to unlock the door?” 

Just as you’re rounding the corner, you hear a giggle from Lara as you watch Jake pick her up and toss her in the air a few times. He’s over and over calling her a “little Einstein” as your brain tumbles over itself. It’s chaos inside your mind as you contemplate your date, being around Jake while dressed like this, and the fact that your toddler apparently knows how to unlock and open a damned door, now. 

Comforting. And now another reason to keep your eyes on her at all times. 

“This ability of hers is new to me as well, you must know,” you say as you round the corner from the hallway and into the living room, putting a pair of golden hoops in your ears that you grabbed from the bedroom earlier.

But he doesn’t look at you right away, his attention still on Laramie. You take advantage of his distraction, able to take in his appearance. He steals your breath on sight. And for some reason, seeing how incredible he looks (as he always does), makes you feel even more nervous about your own revealing attire. 

He’s wearing his go-to. A button down, opened all the way to the top of his belly button and a pair of linen pants. No matter how many times you see him in a variation of the same outfit, you will forever be taken aback by his beauty, those movie star looks you’ve always loved. 

And the golden tan he’s sporting from his travels is no good for you and your overly present jitters. 

To avoid your heart tripping over itself at your ex husband, you turn to the counter to grab your normal, smaller shoulder bag. It’s a Mary Poppins bag of sorts as it somehow still fits an extra outfit for Lara and a travel set of emergency wipes. You take the outfit and wipes out to make space for your lipstick, a mini body spray, and a tube of mascara. It hurts a bit to take out the little pieces of your baby girl. You haven’t had to do so once since she’s been here and you don’t like doing it now. And doing so is causing your mind to swirl even more with the thought of bringing another man home and how you would explain that to her. Not that you’re already planning a future with Cole, but the future scenario is running rampant through your thoughts. She is, afterall, the center of your world. Every decision you make for you also affects her. 

Don’t cancel the date, y/n. You’re getting too far ahead of yourself. Just go for it. See what happens. You owe it to yourself. God knows Jake has done it plenty.

You sigh, the inner encouragement just enough to help you (semi-grimly) clasp your bag shut and grab your keys from the hook by the door. With a press of the automatic start, you look out the window beside the door to make sure your car has started. 

When the lights flash on, you open your bag once more to tuck the keys inside. At that, you decide it’s time to face what your night entails and that means saying goodbye to your babygirl. You really don’t want to — which is why you’re dragging your feet — but you have to. If you intend to put yourself out there like this, you have to get out of your house.

With a spin of your heel, you turn to see Jake, knelt on the ground, eye-level with your little girl. So, following his lead, you kneel down to your sweet Lara and hold your arms out for her. She immediately comes barreling towards you and you tuck your face into her strawberry-scented curls. Her hair is still slightly damp from bath time an hour or so ago. And, once you feel her arms loosen and fall from around her neck, you pull back to run your fingers through the thin strands.

The same exact texture as Jake’s when it's wet. Just one more of the endless list of things you love about her.

Your smile is genuine for her, but you also feel this need to put on a sort of facade for Jake. It’s strange, but it feels necessary given these slightly odd circumstances. 

You’re truly dreading tonight. A feeling you’re trying really hard to not leave the house with. Your whole world is in this house. And you’re about to leave her – leave them – to meet with a guy who couldn’t even be gentlemanly enough to pick you up. But you’re doing everything you can to go into this with an open mind, a willingness to give it a try despite the seemingly never ending signs that you maybe shouldn’t be doing this.

Lara steals your attention when her soft, chubby little hands grab your cheeks. And, very seriously, she looks into your eyes with hers that are the very same shape as her father’s. 

After a few moments of looking into your eyes with a sincerity that most toddlers don’t have, she tells you, “So beautiful, mommy.” Her eyes are still locked with yours as she smiles ear to ear, her button nose scrunched up. 

You blink back tears, your smile shaky and lips quivering as you reach forward to tuck some hair behind her tiny ear. “Well, thank you, baby girl.” But, you can’t help but wonder…you’ve never heard her say beautiful before. That’s a big word. Too big for her to use so confidently without having used it ever before. With you, at least.

You lean forward and give her a kiss. Your knees are starting to hurt, still in a squatting position, but Jake is still squatting, too. The moment is too sweet to give it up just yet. This is more important to you than being a little late to meet Cole. He can wait. This can’t.

Taking advantage of being at her height, you ask Lara with a raised brow and gentle smile. “And where did you learn the word beautiful, my love?”

“Daddy says it all the time,” she excitedly explains, her focus shifting to her hand coming to mess with a necklace you’d put on. Toying with it carefully between her fingers, as she often does when you wear it.

A little mountain range engraved on the front of the silver pendant. 

Jake had actually bought it for you, giving it to you the day you’d brought her into this world. The mountains were meant to resemble one specific range, the name of which, etched on the back of the pendant. 

Laramie

You’d asked him, then, if he’d bought it that way. The range, one you would recognize anywhere. But he’d clarified that he’d special ordered it. A picture of the mountains he’d taken himself on the day you said your vows, the very way their peeks touched the horizon printed on the sterling silver. He sent in the photo to be materialized on the sterling for you to wear around your neck.

After he’d said it, you’d felt silly for asking. The picture was one you’d loved so much that you’d printed it huge to hang above your couch. You’d gasped at the details of the image, the closer you eyed the small piece of silver.

“And I took it to a local jeweler to have her name put on the back,” he’d explained, as you handed him the necklace, asking him to help you put it on. As he clasped the dainty chain around your neck, he’d finished his explanation. “I want you to have a piece of her with you, everywhere you go.”

“And a piece of you,” you’d added, tearfully, patting the silver that laid perfectly against your chest. The moment, so serene, as your newborn baby slept in a bassinet at your bedside. 

Yes, you’d absolutely decided to wear it tonight. You need the extra comfort the necklace brings as you throw yourself out into the world in a way you have put off for far too long. A world that is altogether separate from the two you’re next to right now. Yet another reason for your hesitancy in taking this leap. 

This date…it feels as though it’s closing the door on your life with Jake for good. The divorce was finalized a few years ago, but something about going on this date tonight makes it feel more official somehow. It’s a forceful closure for you. Feels that way, at least. 

So, the necklace will be good company for you tonight. Something familiar to you as you dive headfirst into something you’re not so familiar (or comfortable) with. 

The subtle buzzing of your phone inside your bag, more than likely a text from Cole, lulls you from the melancholic, yet peaceful memory. A reminder that you do have somewhere you need to be, and you’re already late enough as it is. Not that he’s more important than what’s happening right now with little Lara. And with Jake, who’s been quietly observing this whole time. 

Leaving her (and him) feels harder than ever. But this has to be done. If for nothing else, for you. 

“Mommy will see you soon, baby girl. Be good for daddy, okay?” You say, just as Jake stands from his squatted position. Sealing your request with one more kiss to her nose, you decide to follow his lead. You know that if you don’t end this now, you never will. 

The ache in your knees has you lifting yourself a little slower than you’d like, groaning at the stiffness in your joints. A lovely gift that pregnancy left you. Having the body of a grandma while still in your twenties has been a humbling experience, to say the least.

Jake must sense your struggles as he quietly offers a hand to help. You don’t look up at him as you take him up on his offer, setting your hand in his, wrapping your fingers around it to ensure a good enough grip. 

Once steady enough, you pull yourself up with ease, feeling the pain in your knees instantly subside as you place your weight in his hand.

“Thanks,” you sigh as you stand, adjusting your bag over your shoulder, doing everything you can to avoid making eye contact with him. You’ve suddenly realized how close he is to you, only inches away as he’s standing stock-still in front of you. Out of instinct, you back away a step, afraid you’ll make him uncomfortable by being so close to you. 

But once you do, you make the mistake of looking at him, finding that his eyes are fixed on you. His eyes, following a slow path down your body, then back up to meet yours. His mouth is parted slightly, his thumb and index finger rubbing his chin as his teeth nibble at his bottom lip.

It’s silent. Dreadfully silent as you’re looking at one another. The air between you feels like a ton of bricks, thick and heavy. 

You don’t know what to say to break it, and he clearly doesn’t, either. The moment stays silent for even longer, and all you want is to know what he is thinking that’s keeping him this quiet. 

The way you could always tell what he was thinking was by looking into his eyes. His eyes have always said what he was thinking before his thoughts made it to his lips. But you find that you can’t read them anymore. Not like you used to, at least. 

But from what you can tell – he’s deep in thought. 

While neither of you can manage to speak a single word to each other, Lara provides a relieving end to the silence by telling Jake that she’s hungry. 

Clearing his throat and blinking his eyes a few times, he looks down to her as she’s now tugging at the hem of his shirt to get his attention. “I’ll make us dinner, little one. Just as soon as mommy leaves.” 

With that statement, he looks to you again, clearing his throat once more as he runs a hand through his hair. “You, um – you look nice.” Lara, still tugging away at his clothes, shouts ‘beautiful, daddy, beautiful!’ until her lungs run out of breath. He looks down at her, smiling, his cheeks flushing. “You better get going, y/n. Can’t leave the guy waiting too long.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, only looking at Lara. 

Nice. You look nice. 

Even Lara gave you a more sincere compliment. She even tried to correct him, to which he just smiled and basically told you to leave. 

With one more quick goodbye, you grab your coat from the rack and head out the door, feeling foolish as you do.

You feel foolish because, subconsciously, part of you hoped Jake would take one look at you and tell you not to go. Beg you not to go. 

But that didn’t happen. And it’s ridiculous of you to even think that it could. 

He’s over you. He’s been over you. That’s a fact you need to accept. Stop holding on to the past that he is certainly not holding on to. 

Despite the overwhelming sense of dread, you know that tonight needs to happen. 

It’s time to move on. For good. 

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Another reason you were put off by this date is the fact that Cole chose the place without worrying to gather your input. Granted, you could’ve just given him your unsolicited opinion, but the urge wasn’t strong enough to risk any awkward tension that could arise from such a thing.

So, you’ll settle for one of your least favorite eateries in town – a bar and restaurant combo called The Main Street Tavern.

Cole must be a bit trapped in his younger days, because this place was quite the popular joint when you were teenagers. You haven’t been here in years, and sitting in your car in front of the tired building is bringing back some memories you’re not too keen on being reminded of. 

He’s just sent you a text telling you where he’s seated, and with the confirmation that he’s here, you take a deep breath, reaching for your necklace for comfort as you pull yourself away from your car. Upon walking in, the smell of bitter booze and greasy food hits you like a train the instant you step through the door. The smell of the booze in particular reminds you of the days when you hadn’t learned your drinking limit. An uncomfortable wave of nausea suddenly overwhelms you at the thought, but breathing through it, you locate Cole sitting in a booth to the left of the bartop.

He’s waving your way, making sure you can see where he’s at. Oh, you can see him, alright. Though his image is a bit foggy from the billows of smoke coming from the party of four sitting at the table next to him, each one of them puffing a cigarette. 

How romantic.

“Hey!” He says as you approach him, fighting with yourself to make sure you’re wearing a smile. Fake or not. “Remember this old place? I just can’t resist the good ol’ nostalgia of it. Brings you right back, doesn’t it?” 

You’re starting to get the impression that Cole probably hit his peak in high school. And for some reason, given everything that you knew about him then, that doesn’t entirely surprise you. As you sit yourself on the plastic covered seat across from him, you’re becoming aware that you are not looking at the same Cole you saw at the coffee shop yesterday. 

Yeah, he’s handsome. Outwardly, at least. Chiseled jaw and all. But there’s something different about his eyes tonight. They seemed…kind yesterday. But right now, there’s something strange about them. 

Perhaps it’s the alcohol he’s already ingested, as evidenced by the three bent cans of beer sitting in front of him. 

How long has he been here?

“You look awesome,” he says, staring directly at your chest as he does so. “Like I said, you haven't changed a bit.” 

I definitely have. But you? Not so much, apparently. 

“Uh, thanks,” you respond, finding it hard to mask your unimpressed tone. Suddenly feeling like you need to bolt, you keep yourself where you are by rubbing your thumb over the engraved mountains on your necklace, using it to help you find the courage to open the sticky menu in front of you.

Don’t give up, you think. Just see this through so you can say you did it.

“Yeah, I haven’t been here in ages. I think I was a senior the last time I came here,” you say as you skim through the menu items, unable to find anything that remotely sounds appetizing. You didn’t even like this place as a kid. And as a woman in her twenties? Yeah, you’re still disgusted by even the thought of it.“Do you come here often?”

“It’s kind of my weekend joint. I just can’t get enough of this place.” 

Shocker.

“Know what you’re getting?” He asks you as he’s flagging down the nearest waitress. Before you can say hell no, he’s giving the young girl his order. Not looking at the menu, either. He knows what he wants from memory. 

She then looks to you, waiting with slightly annoyed eyes for your order. Not knowing what to get, you just say the first thing that comes to your mind. “Um, I’ll just have the chicken strip basket. With ranch, please. And a water to drink.” You smile at her and thank her as you hand her the menu, but she doesn’t even bother looking up from her notepad she’s jotting your order on. 

With a quiet nod of her head, she takes the menu from you and begins to walk away, only to be stopped by Cole before she makes it to the kitchen. “I’ll take another can of  Keystone. Actually, make that two more.” He looks at you with a wink, and you’re suddenly feeling that nauseous feeling creeping up once more.

Does he think that’s a turn on? Sure, you enjoy a glass of wine here and there. A margarita when you’re really treating yourself. 

But five beers on a date, the first date, is a little more than insane. 

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The food is taking forever to make it to your table. The last twenty or so minutes have been spent with him talking your ear off about whatever beer-induced bullshit he can come up with. And still, he can’t seem to keep his eyes off of your breasts. 

It’s been miserable, to say the least. Because of this shitty restaurant that you’ve never enjoyed, because of Cole being the one you’re here with, and because you can’t stop thinking about the man that’s sitting at home right now with your daughter. 

You and Jake were just kids when you started dating, but even as young as he was, he always made sure your dates were special. Even after you got engaged, and during the short duration of your marriage. Every outing was magical. 

The fact that Jake is the only person you’ve ever dated certainly set the bar high for any future dates. So, it’s not all Cole’s fault that you’re having a terrible time. You have the standard set by Jake to thank for some of what you’re feeling. 

But, Cole could’ve done better. He’s not even dressed nearly as nice as you are. That doesn’t really matter, but for a first date, it kind of feels like a bit more effort than usual should be exercised. More than just showing up in a hoodie and some jeans. 

Finally, the food arrives just as Cole was in the middle of telling you about his brother that was almost drafted for the NFL. As of you give a fuck one about sports. But, he wouldn’t know that, seeing as he hasn’t given you an inch tonight. 

The chicken tenders you ordered are placed in a red plastic basket, sitting on top of a piece of white, oil stained tissue paper. You’re not picky by any means, but this looks less than appetising. The sheer amount of grease alone would turn anyone off.

Well, anyone but Cole. He’s already digging into his triple burger that seems to be loaded with even more grease than your sad entre. And he’s loving it, apparently, based on the slew of noises he’s making as he takes bite after disgusting bite. Your appetite was waning the moment you walked inside this place, but it’s completely gone now. 

The thought of taking even one bite of this food has you feeling you could gag. Sipping your water is the only thing keeping you from doing so, and even that tastes weird. How a place could be so horrible that the water is bad is beyond you. But at this point, you’re no longer shocked by it. You’ve just accepted it.

Shoving in the last mouthful of his burger, he washes it down with his fifth can of beer, finishing it off with his last bite of food. “Never misses,” he says, wiping the remnants of beer and ketchup from his mouth with the back of his hand.

You haven’t even touched your food, but he’s too drunk to even notice. And while he hasn’t noticed that, he’s certainly not shying away from giving you a look that says more than you really want it to. Grinning ear to ear, he tosses you another wink, to which you respond with a stone cold expression. No more faking it tonight. He doesn’t deserve even that. 

The waitress comes back to gather his empty plate, asking you if you’re done with yours. You say yes, letting her take the basket and ridding yourself of the foul food once and for all. “This all on one check?” She asks, and without giving it any thought, Cole proceeds to tell her that it will be on separate checks. 

Again, the feminist in you normally wouldn’t care to pick up your own tab. But after this shitfest of a date, the fact that you had to drive yourself, and pay for your meal (that you didn’t eat) does not sit comfortably with you.

The disgust should be quite evident on your face, though the alcohol he’s ingested is probably prohibiting him from being able to pick up on that cue. 

He begins blabbing about some more bullshit when the waitress brings you your checks. You’ve got your credit card ready to hand to her as soon as she does, ready to pay and get the hell out of here and away from Cole.

As you’re waiting for her to bring back your card and receipt, Cole begins yet another spiel about where in town his place is, and how Olivia left behind a lot of her clothes and other things there when she left him. You’re so preoccupied with wanting to leave that you don’t fully register what he’s saying. But as you’re listening a little more intently, you hear him say the very thing that sets you off. “So you’ll have something to change into if you didn’t bring any extra clothes. That way you can be comfortable,” he says, slurring his words, smiling in a way that makes you want to slap it off his face. 

And with that, your every effort to remain cordial has flown straight out of the window. 

“Excuse me?” You  say, the volume of your voice wiping that stupid grin off his lips. Good. “I don’t know how you thought your night was going to end, but I can promise you that mine will not end anywhere near your place.” His eyes, saggy from the effects of the alcohol, widen, his mouth falling open. And for the first time tonight, his open mouth isn’t spewing some utter bullshit that you don’t want to hear. 

Right on cue, the waitress drops your card and receipt off with you. Throwing them mindlessly in your bag, you shoot up from your seat, draping your coat around your shoulders in one quick movement. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m ever going to willingly see you again after tonight. Jake was right about you.”  

“W-what?” He exclaims, clumsily standing up and tripping over his own feet as he walks out from the booth. “Well damn, I guess I thought we would fu –.”

“You thought wrong!” You shout, interrupting him before he can even say the word. You then shove him out of your way as he starts moving closer to you, and as you're beginning to leave, a man with a manager's tag on his shirt approaches you, asking if you’re okay.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, calmly as you can. “But someone needs to call an Uber for him,” you continue, pointing towards Cole, who is staring at you with a confused, inebriated look. “Do not let him leave like this. He’s in no condition to drive and I do not feel comfortable taking him home.”

The manager appears rather frustrated, and he begins to tell you that this is a weekly occurrence with Cole. “We have to arrange a ride for him almost every time he comes in,” he says. “I think this will be the last time we let this happen. I’ve let him get away with this behavior for too long.” 

Without giving Cole another glance, you walk yourself out to your car, bidding a final farewell to this place, to this night, for good.

↟ᨒ.⊹݁⚘⊹⚘⊹⚘ ⊹.ᨒ↟

The road ahead appears blurred in the wake of your tears. Traffic lights are heavy and intense, glowing intrusively bright. You just want to get home, yet the roads seem to stretch longer and longer the further you drive.

But, perhaps that’s a good thing. It’s best you let your emotions run their course before you get home to see Jake, the last person you want to see you like this. For all he knows, tonight was made of all your wildest dreams. And if that’s what he believes, you’re not going to do anything that would make him suspect otherwise. It’s fine to let yourself cry on the way home, getting it out of your system completely as you pull into the driveway of your home, sitting inside the vehicle for a few minutes longer to give the tears a chance to dry up.

Parking right next to Jake’s Buick certainly isn’t helping matters, but it’s somehow serving as a comfort all at once.

The first thing you notice as you walk inside is how clean the place is. Spotless. Utterly. From top to bottom. It smells like freshly cut roses and a homemade meal, probably something Jake whipped up in the kitchen while you were out. 

But the second thing you notice, is the two of them are nowhere to be found. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if Lara is tucked away in bed, given it’s nearly midnight. Hours beyond her bedtime. You’d hope she’s asleep, at least. Jake has been known to let her stay up late a time or two, letting her watch whatever Disney film her little heart desires and eat endless snacks. 

That doesn’t appear to be the case tonight, as the house is silent, save for the creaking sounds it makes as it settles into the worn foundation overnight. 

Kicking your boots off by the front door, your pantyhose clad feet quietly pad across the carpet toward the hallway that leads to her room. The door is closed, so you place your ear to the old wood, hearing the tiniest, faintest snores emitting from the other side. 

That certainly confirms that she’s sound asleep in her bed, but that doesn’t answer your other question; where is Jake? Surely he’s not asleep in your room. And he’s not in the bathroom, as that door is wide open and sans Jake. The freshly cleaned kitchen was empty when you walked by it, so that truly leaves only one more possibility. 

Gentle as you can, you turn the solid gold door knob clockwise, wincing when the door creaks as you slowly push it open. Her ceiling is covered in nighttime stars from her beloved galaxy projector, casting her room in a quiet glow.

And, as you somehow already knew, Jake is resting on a make-shift bed of Disney princess blankets and star shaped pillows, positioned almost the very same as your daughter. On his side, knees tucked practically to his chest, just like her. It’s always been a wonder to you how he’s able to sleep that way, folding his body in ways that would leave yours aching for days. 

As Lara has grown, she's begun to sleep the very same. A trait you’re so happy that she picked up from him. 

There’s an opened book sitting on the floor next to him – he was probably in the middle of reading it when she fell asleep, and decided to rest his own eyes as well. You begin to feel your heart both flutter and ache at the vision, adoring it yet altogether wishing it was always like this. Though you know better than to dream of such foolish things, it doesn’t stop you from yearning for it. 

It’s beautiful. It’s how it should be. But, it just isn’t. 

You’re certain he didn’t plan on sleeping here tonight, but you can’t find it in you to wake him. He looks so peaceful, so tranquil. There’s no sense in waking him up to leave. So, as carefully as you opened it, you close the door as you step back out to the hallway, letting the two of them stay just as they are. 

And while they are able to sleep and rest their minds, you know that won’t be an easy feat for you tonight. Probably down right impossible, in truth. 

Because you couldn’t eat at the restaurant, and now that you’re home and not in the presence of Cole, your empty stomach is begging you to put something in it. With sleep feeling ever so distant and nearly impossible to reach, your mind begins to focus on the meal Jake made that’s left the most tantalizing aroma in the house. 

As you step into the kitchen, the smell is all the more inviting. And as you’re nearing the refrigerator, the scent begins to take on something more familiar to you. Something he’s made before, something he made often during your marriage. 

A casserole dish, covered loosely in aluminum foil, sits on the middle shelf. You realize the bottom of it is still warm as you carefully pull it out. Not hot, just warm. As though it’s not been in there for too long. Before you remove its cover, you’re already certain you know just what it is. And if you’re correct, it’ll only cause your heart to ache even further. 

The fresh tomatoes, the parmesan, pepperjack, and mozzarella cheese melted together, the smell of buttery garlic – it’s a dish you requested often in your marriage, especially when you were pregnant with Lara. 

A cheese ravioli bake, but not just any cheese ravioli bake – Jake’s cheese ravioli bake. He concocted this very special recipe just to your liking, using the perfect blend of grated cheeses and tomatoes that had never seen the inside of a can. (Because, yes – they do taste better.) 

The raviolis were always made from scratch, Jake’s signature touch that you loved so much. The special shapes of the noodles always made the meal taste at least ten times better than any other dish with raviolis, silly as it may sound. You’ve never been much of a meat-eater, so he never bothered with adding anything more than fresh herbs and cheese. 

And, it’s baked in the same casserole dish he used to make it in. The white corningware with the little blue flowers on the sides, one that came from your grandma ages ago. It was always Jake’s favorite to cook with, so there’s no surprise he used it tonight. 

As though your ex husband knew the inner workings of your brain tonight, it’s like he knew you’d need something comforting and familiar once you got home. Whether or not he truly did it for you, it just doesn’t matter at this moment. It’s here, and it’s enough to take your mind off of the shit evening you’ve had. 

And while there is comfort in it, it does serve as a symbol for part of the reason tonight was so awful – you want this again. This food, Jake sleeping in the house again, his aura hovering around the place he once called home. The home that he shared with you. 

Peeling back the foil leaves no surprise. The fact that you knew this meal from the aroma alone tells you more than you truly want to confront. 

You’re far too hungry to bother with heating it back up. Jabbing your fork right in the center of the dish, grabbing the biggest glob of cheese you can fit on the silver prongs, you reach it up to your open mouth. It tastes the very same it always had, forcing your mind to linger on the days of your pregnancy when you craved this more than anything. 

It feels strange to taste again, knowing that the last time these very distinct flavors sat on your tongue, you were still married to the man that made it. 

It’s comfortably familiar, yet melancholic all at once. There’s a tinge of sadness mixed in with the ingredients, one that almost overpowers the rest.

You’ve become so lost in the food that you don’t hear the creaking door from down the hall, or the soft footsteps against the carpet, coming closer and closer to where you’re standing. 

“How’d it go?” He whispers. 

And where the sudden sound of his voice should have made you jump, all it does is make your shoulders relax. After the night you’ve had, you need this. Need familiarity in the form of the man you’ve always loved.

And that distinct, sleepy rasp in his hushed tone that you’ve heard more times than you can recall… It makes the quietest grin reach your lips. 

It’s the way his voice would sound once he’d just woken up, or when he was too tired to speak in a normal tone. It was (and, apparently, still is) something that drove you mad with longing when you were together. After everything, hearing it still makes your tummy flutter, as much as you wish it didn’t. 

“I’m sorry, I tried not to wake you up,” you whisper, worried that you’ll wake Lara if you speak any louder. Setting the fork in the sink, you turn his direction to see a vision you weren’t prepared to witness. 

His shoulder is leaned up against the wall, and his drowsy, dark eyes are the first things that catch your attention. Your lingering eyes then notice his frizzy, untamed waves, sitting a few inches lower than they did when he was your husband. You’ve always loved his long hair, and him letting it grow even longer is even better.

He’s clad in only a worn white t-shirt with holes embellishing the stretched v-neck, and a pair of heather grey sweatpants, a specific look you grew quite fond of during your time together. He must have had the outfit packed in his bag he had with him, as this is not what he was wearing when you left earlier.

The waiting look about his features reminds you that he's just asked you a question, and it’s also reminding you that you’re taking an incredibly awkward amount of time to answer. The blood rushes to your cheeks once you realize that he’s caught on to your wandering eyes, scanning every detail of the man before you that you once thought you’d spend the rest of your life with. 

The words you want to say are on the tip of your tongue, sitting, weighted, at the forefront of your brain. The desire to spill every horrible detail about the night, to tell him that you now know why he hated Cole so much in  school is a burning one. You want to tell him every single thing. But what you want to say and what you should say are altogether quite different. 

The true answer to his question is more than your lips are physically willing to say. So, a simple lie will have to do. 

“It went pretty well,” you say, hopefully convincingly as you cover the food up once more with the metal wrapping. “I’d say a second date may be in the cards.” The words second date feel like fire against your tongue. The sound of them brings back that nauseated feeling you had sat with most of the night. 

But your eyes are fixed on the task at hand of ensuring the dish is properly covered, knowing that eye contact with him will surely expose your dishonesty. The words themselves are hard enough to vocalize as is, feeling like you have to force yourself to give them the breath to be heard. 

Eye contact or not, if anyone is going to know you well enough to recognize when you’re speaking untruths, huge untruths, it’s Jake. 

As you’re placing the dish back in the fridge, you make the mistake of glancing at him, his mouth upturned in a knowing smirk. 

There’s no more doubt that he can see past your facade, and the realist in you knows there’s no point in elaborating this lie any further. But you’re also not ready to let him in on how awful it truly was. You know how crazy it is to feel this way, but you’re embarrassed that it did go so poorly. 

You were hopeful. 

Hopeful that someone would be willing to love you again, hopeful of a future that doesn’t see you being alone. But most of all, you were ready to finally move past Jake. 

There’s nothing you want more than to be able to, truthfully, tell him that the night was beautiful. That Cole was a perfect gentleman and treated you to the most lovely evening you’ve ever had. 

The problem with that? It’s the furthest thing from the truth. The furthest possible thing. But even a lie as embellished as this is better than what the truth entails. 

“What?” You say, leaning against the fridge, as he continues to look at you. His eyes scan your features, as though you’re completely transparent and he can see right through to your mind. But you decide to continue your useless story, no matter how well he can read you. “It went well, Jake.” The sternness in your voice makes him lift a brow, sighing as he crosses his arms over his chest, still grinning. “Cole was…he was a really good date.”

Yikes. 

“He’s grown up a lot. He’s nothing like he was in high school, or whatever it was that made you hate him so much.” 

Lie. Lie after lie after. 

“You were wrong about him, Jake. And you’re still wrong about him. How would you know he hasn’t changed? You haven’t seen him in years.”

Now you’re getting ahead of yourself. And while you are ahead, you should probably stop. Based on the look he’s giving you, he isn’t buying a lick of it.  

“Never said he hadn’t, y/n. Why are you so set on making sure I know he’s changed? I’m not the one going on a second date with him. I don’t care if he’s changed,” he insists with a shrug of his shoulders, shooting you a condescending look that, mixed with his sarcastic tone, is really beginning to piss you off.

Whether you’re truly mad at him or mad at the fact that you’ve basically been caught in your ridiculous fib, you can’t tell. 

Either way, Jake is the source of your anger at the current moment. And after the events of tonight, you’re not in any place to put up with this attitude he’s shoving your way. 

“Why are you acting like this, Jake?” You snap, voice still hushed, but growing a touch louder. You push away from the fridge, going to point a finger at him. “You were the one that called him an airhead earlier, and I’m just making sure you know that the man who treated your ex wife to a beautiful dinner is not an airhead anymore. People grow, Jake. People can change. Some people, anyway.” 

His body visibly tenses at your words, and you’re plagued with a lot of guilt over them. Especially when considering the fact that he is undoubtedly correct in his assumptions about the man you went out with tonight. 

Though, you’ve just stepped into shit you didn’t mean to. This isn’t where you wanted the night to go: you, blaming Jake for the man who’d treated you so poorly tonight. You spent all night comparing him to the man Jake was — is. But you’ve begun a rant that you can’t quit now. 

And, he knows, as well as you, that you meant to allude to the fact that he is the one who hasn’t changed. 

But, you also know that that isn’t true. Not at all.

“What is that supposed to mean, y/n?” He asks, moving through the doorway of the kitchen, coming to stand right in front of you. He smells of patchouli mixed with earthy cedar, a familiar scent reminiscent of a cologne you bought for him ages ago. 

The both of you have managed to keep your voices at a low rumble this whole time to avoid waking Lara, but now that he’s standing so close to you, he no longer needs to speak above a whisper for you to be able to hear him. “Are you insinuating that I haven’t changed? Since when, y/n? Since high school? Since we were marri –.” 

“I don’t know, Jake.” Your walls are breaking, crumbling. You’re fighting the tears that are welling in your eyes, trying to swallow them down before he notices.

“You don’t know what, y/n?” He replies, using two fingers to bring your chin up to look at him. Like he used to do all of the time. You can’t remember the last time he did so. Yet, no matter how he lifts your face, you don’t meet his eyes. Can’t. Your cowardly ways have set in. “I need you to be honest with me, y/n.”

“I just – I –.” 

“I need you to be honest with me, Luna.”

Fuck. Not that nickname. Just like the chin raising, you can’t remember the last time he called you that. Marriage. A happier time in your marriage, at that, surely. 

However, you’ll never forget how or when he came up with it. The first time he used it. 

Your love for nature, something always held so closely and intimately between the two of you. When you were young kids, exploring the mountains from day to night, for days on end. Your summers, spent between mountains, where you’d spoken many things to each other. Shared many secrets. Created several sacred and sweet memories. 

One of these treasured memories was of an evening in the summer before your Junior year of high school. Only sixteen years old, practically babies. That was the summer that things felt different between you and Jake. It was one of those nights you can clearly recollect, vividly see in your memories. 

Stargazing with him, in a field of pink roses. This night, in particular, one of the reasons you’d wanted the influx of them littering the aisle at your wedding. 

This evening is also one forever held in your heart for what he’d told you. Wise beyond his years, full of so many words — always. Something you’ll always love about him. 

Laying in the field of roses in a hidden valley between mountain peaks, he’d spoken timeless words to you.

“You are like the moon, y/n. Y’know?”

You’d giggled, completely oblivious to where this was going. Your skin, still sunkissed and a little red from a full day of exploring in the mountains with your best and closest friend. The evening was winding down and you’d been near sleep when he’d whispered it into the night, his voice joining the crickets nightly songs.

“How am I like the moon?” You’d replied, turning a bit to look at him from the side of your eye. Though, he wasn’t looking at you. No, he was still gazing at the sky, watching as the sun made her final appearance for the day. Just beyond the highest peak of the mountains, the moon was rising, slow and steady. 

But you’d only watched him as he’d studied the sky. His face had brought you a serene sense of comfort from a very young age for you. His smile, always a source of your peace. 

“The moon… it’s so many things. It is so beautiful and it changes to show different phases on a never ending cycle,” he’d said, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he thought of his next words. “This cycle that we don’t really know the beginnings of, but we still trust it. Because we know, no matter what, that the moon will always be beautiful, no matter what phase it’s in. It will always change as it should. It’s trustworthy and fills the night sky with a light the sun could never.” 

You’d only stared at him in awe. His mind, the most incredible place. 

He’d continued, “It’s amazing how you can stare at the moon without its light blinding you. You can’t do that with the sun, it’s too painful to look at and admire. But not the moon. You can look at it for hours with no pain. Only beauty.”

He always had a way of making you think. Deeply think. His words always came together so beautifully to express what was on his mind, putting you in his mind right along with him. 

“Wow, Jake,” you’d sighed, rolling to lay on your back to resemble him and stare at the sky. The moon had been full that night. A full moon, your favorite to adventure beneath with him. “I don’t know how your brain does that,” you’d breathed on a slight laugh, blinking your eyes slowly as your lids still felt heavy.

“Does what?” He’d chuckled along with the slightest snort. From your peripheral, you’d noticed him glance at you. But you kept your eyes trained on the black sky above, thinking about how it wasn’t painful to look at the moon. You stared at it, admiring it, just as he had said.

“Thinks of these things — it’s so deep,” you’d giggled, looking over at him to catch his eyes. But, he was back to watching the stars twinkle and the moon in its illustrious position over the mountains. Still, you focused on him with a glimmer in your eye. “You’re supposed to be thinking of Mrs. Thompson teaching us about the basics of moon phases last year — like I do when I look at the moon. Like all high schoolers who studied that should. But you’re thinking of that?”

“Well, I like to look deeper into things. You of all people should know this. And… when I find the deeper meaning of things, I always bring it back to you. I think it’s because we’re so close. I don’t know,” he’d replied, finally connecting eyes with you. Your tummy had done a weird flip thing it had just started doing when you were near Jake. It had been weird and new. You obviously hadn’t known it then, but it was the very beginning signs of a crush. “And I’ve been studying the phases for a while now, long before we took Mrs. Thompson’s class,” he paused, raising a brow at you with a smile. And, as the tummy thing was happening again, a blush made its way to your cheeks. “You know that, too, y/n.”

“Yes,” you’d answered with a few slow, measured blinks. No longer tired as he’d caught your attention, but you didn’t know what else to blame your slow thinking on. It must’ve been related to your sleepiness from before. You hadn’t known what else it could’ve been. “Just tired from the day, I guess…,” the words had trailed quietly from your mouth, his eyes, glowing from the moon's light, still holding yours. 

And the way they were holding yours, making you feel nervous and jittery in brand new ways when it came to Jake. He’d been searching them, seeming to look for something you weren’t sure he’d be able to find. 

You knew Jake’s expressions, new his eyes — through and through… but this had been new. This look. These eyes. There was something different in them, something in his soul that could only be fully reflected through them. 

“H-how am I like the moon, though?” The words were an almost-whisper in the warm final winds of late summer, feeling them becoming cooler in preparation for the transition to fall. “You never said that part.”

It had taken a few moments, but he’d finally blinked a few times and seemed to come back to. His gaze had gone back to the sky. Yours had, once again, followed, desperate to see the moon the way he did. 

“You’re always showing me new sides of you… your own phases. You’ve changed a lot over the last few years — I notice every little thing. I don’t know why,” he’d explained. “But no matter what… I know that I trust you. And I know that you will always be you, even in different phases.” 

The blush had rushed up to your cheeks, once more, and you hadn’t dared look at him. “Thanks, Jake. I trust you always, too.”

“And…,” he’d cleared his throat, a nervous trait of his that you knew all  too well. “I really think you’re so damn pretty, y/n… like the moon. But—,” he’d cleared his throat again. And, you would’ve looked to see if he was okay. But you were frozen — in shock. Hearing Jake call you pretty made your tummy flip yet again, and your heart flutter along with it.

Thankfully, you hadn’t needed to check on him, because he’d continued after a few solid and near-silent seconds of waiting. “The term moon doesn’t fit you. When people think of the moon, they think of the thing in the sky. But when I think of it, I think about all of the things that make the moon what it is. Just like I think of you. And that’s more than a simple thing in the sky. You are more than just a simple girl.”

Silence followed him. You hadn’t known what the heck to say. And you were afraid that anything you would try to say wouldn’t come out right.

“There’s a poem. Um, it’s called—called La Luna. It-it talks about the qualities of the moon and how they show in day-to-day life… and I loved it because it showed me… you are like my moon. I have you everyday and you’re trustworthy and you’re beautiful. Like the moon,” he’d said, matter of fact, with a sense of finality in his explanation. 

But, he wasn’t finished. There was a shaky breath held in the space between the two of you and the trees. And when you turned to watch him this time, he’d already been watching you. 

Propped on one arm, watching you, still. You followed his lead in leaning on your own elbow, a little grin on your face. It was just funny — you always seemed to follow him. And he, you. 

In almost every way, you two did the same. 

Even in certain silly actions. Little movements of your body that seemed correct because he was doing them. And if one of you did something, the other was doing it as well. 

His eyes searched yours, so inquisitive. And there had been a gentle scrunch of his untamed brows. He’d looked as if he was wondering and searching your soul—for answers you still don’t know. Don’t have.

The next thing that left his lips, though, you had known the answer to without the shadow of a doubt. And as soon as he asked it, you realized you’d been waiting for those words the entire time. 

“Can I – can I kiss you, y/n?” 

The answer, “yes” had slid past your lips without you even knowing it was happening. You hadn’t ever felt this way towards Jake, yet— way back then. But… giving him a kiss — in that particular moment — had just felt oddly right. Like it was supposed to happen. 

A puzzle piece, clicking into place. 

It’d barely registered that it had happened because it had happened so fast. 

He’d leaned over and you’d match him and went towards him just a touch. To meet him halfway.  

And then, he’d touched his lips so briefly to yours before pulling away. Then, he’d helped you up as your tummy had still flipped and flopped. The blush that had been on your cheeks, reaching all the way up to the tips of your ears.  

Your first kiss. You’d just had your first kiss. And with Jake. Your first and only best friend.

And that was why it was right. You were supposed to have your first kiss with him. 

Your walk home had involved shared breaths and a few mindless notes about the day’s adventures. Your worn tennis shoes, making the treasured crunching sound against gravel roads. The sound, now one of your favorites, after how many times you’d heard it growing up, hiking all around, with Jake. 

Then, right before you’d bid him goodnight as he dropped you off at your house that night, so long ago, he’d had one more thing to say. 

“You are my Luna, y/n,” he’d told you, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes as he’d tucked his hands into the pockets of his Aztec printed shorts. “My moon and my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too, Jake,” you’d said, plain and easy. 

After that night, things with you and Jake were never the same. And you were glad they weren’t. You didn’t know it then, but that night was the start of falling in love with him. The start of knowing, undoubtedly, that you would spend the rest of your life with him. 

He was your first and only kiss. Your first and only of everything else that happened in the years that followed.

He was your best friend then and your best friend always. And just as he’d explained how the moon was to him and how you were for him — that would always be him, for you. Still to this day, your mind always wanders to that night when you see the moon. To Jake’s face as he asked you to kiss him for the first time. 

And, because of all of this, that pet name has always been your breaking point. 

Fuck.

Here it comes. 

“Tonight was fucking terrible, Jake. He was such a prick and all he wanted was to fuck me and there was no way in hell I was going to let him do that.” 

Those tears you tried to hold back are flooding your cheeks, turning into sobs that you’re desperately trying to keep quiet so they don’t wake Lara. 

You fully expected Jake to hit you with an ‘I told you so,’ or laugh in your face over how pathetic you’re being.

But no. He doesn’t do either of those things. And you know Jake much better than to think he’d do that to you. That’s not the kind of person he is – he’s never been that kind of person. His heart is far too big to ever treat you that way, and you of all people should know that. It’s what made you fall in love with him in the first place.

So, no. He doesn’t do what your foolish mind had convinced you would happen. But what he does do is something you’ve dearly missed since the day he packed his things and moved out. Something you haven't felt in so long that you can’t really remember the last time it happened. 

Without another word, he reaches his arms out, pulling you into him. And you let him. You feel your tense and tired body instantly melt into him, your head resting against his chest, into the spot you used to naturally nuzzle yourself into. 

And just like that, every burden of the night has been lifted from your shoulders. You feel weightless in his arms again, being held in the safety of his embrace that, for most of your life, had been your place of refuge and solace. 

He’s not hugging you, he’s holding you. Keeping you stable, warm. It feels as wonderful as it always had, like nothing has truly changed. 

“I’m sorry, Luna,” he whispers into your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You deserve better than him. You deserve a lot better.”

Hearing him say those words, that you deserve better…

You don’t know if you believe that. If you truly do deserve better, then you’d still be with the only man you’ve ever loved, the only man who has ever loved you. 

The one holding you in his arms at this very moment. 

There are a thousand things you want to say, that you want to scream. But in your heart of hearts, there’s only one thing you really want right now. Something that doesn’t require any words, any apologies or excuses for things that are tucked away in the past. Things that feel so distant that they don’t seem to matter anymore. Not right now, at least.

Everything that has happened tonight has made you wonder if the divorce really was the right option. There’s no doubt you needed a separation, but the reasons as to why the divorce came to be are suddenly fuzzy to you. And, as you so often have as of late, you wish it would’ve never happened in the first place. 

All these things that you have felt so heavily recently, encompassing you fully as you’re held in his arms for the first time in so long.

Though you can feel the quick beating of his heart against your ear, you can’t be entirely sure what he’s thinking. You want to see his face, see his eyes. Find out whatever it is that’s going through his mind that caused him to embrace you this way. 

Gently leaning away from him, he keeps his arms wrapped around you as you look up at him, into his eyes that once brought you so much peace. His eyes, that have always been his best way of communicating when his lips struggle to articulate what was on his heart. 

And right now, what you see reflected in his golden brown irises, are the words that you feel sitting on the tip of your own tongue. He lifts his hand, using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. You lean your face into his hand and lightly kiss the pad of the very same thumb, tasting the salty tear it dried from your face. 

The intention in his face as he’s looking at you, holding your gaze with words unspoken, words from the last few years that neither one of you dared to utter. And still, as your eyes are holding his, words simply aren’t necessary to you. 

Cradling your face in his hand, thumb caressing your cheek as his eyes flit from yours to your lips, he mutters something unintelligible, a whispering you can’t quite make out as his face leans closer and closer. And as you begin to ask him what he said, he’s leaning down and his lips slowly collide with yours. His soft, supple lips; they feel so very much how you remember, the only difference being the subtle beginnings of a mustache on his upper lip. 

And the taste…the taste of Jake. A taste you’d never be able to replicate. It’s the one you’ve found yourself craving since the last time you relished in it.

The kiss lingers, lips making gentle movements, keeping their connection. You feel the weight of the last few years dissipate with the feeling of him. The feeling of his lips, a longing at last being met once again.

His arms hold you tighter, bringing you closer to him. His hand, steady and gentle, reaches up to the nape of your neck, fingers weaving through your hair. 

Tears flood your closed eyes once more, trickling down your skin, wetting his as they fall. Once he feels them, he slowly pulls away, your lips reluctant to let him part. With his other hand, just as he did before, he dries the new tears. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done tha –.”

“Jake,” you whisper, stopping him before he can needlessly apologize. “What did you say earlier? Before you –.”

“I said that you are beautiful,” he sighs. “So beautiful.” 

He searches your face, taking in every tiny detail of your features. His smile matches the one you’re wearing, and you swear you see the glint of a tear forming in his eye. “So, is that why Lara said the same thing earlier?” You ask, remembering her saying it nearly the same way he just did. 

“She may have heard me say it a time or two,” he giggles, his hand that dried your tears reaching up to dab at his own wet eyes. “I always tell her how beautiful she is, and that it’s because she looks just like her mommy.”

It’s funny, because to you, she gets her beauty from Jake. You see him when you see her. But to know that he sees you when he looks at her…

“Can I kiss you, Jake?” 

As though you needn’t truly ask, his lips quickly meet yours once more. Only this time, the kiss is deeper,  full of so much more than it was before. The fingers still weaved in your hair carefully tug at your locks, dull nails scratching at your scalp. Your flesh tingles when his tongue pushes past your lips, his breathing becoming heavier as he becomes hungrier for you.  

You push yourself into him as much as you can, lifting on your toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His strong, sturdy shoulders that feel even stronger than the last time you felt them. 

And with this new position, he takes advantage of your strong hold on him, using one hand to lift you up, your legs now straddling his waist. His hand cups your ass, holding you still with pure ease as you kiss him harder than you ever have. 

Each of you, moaning and sighing, lips roughly colliding. 

Still holding you, he begins to walk backwards out of the kitchen, then carrying you down the hallway towards your bedroom. His lips never leaving yours until he makes it to your room, laying you down gently on the end of the mattress, your legs dangling from the edge.  

You prop yourself up on your elbows while Jake hovers over you, his feet still planted on the floor. There’s a gleam in his eye that you’ve seen before, so long ago. His skin, smooth and glowing from the gentle moonlight creeping in through your windows. A vision you know all too well. 

“That name,” you say, hushed. “You haven’t called me that in years. It – it was nice hearing you say it again. Really.” 

His smile as he looks down at you, one you’ve seen hundreds of times before, takes you right back to the beginning. Back to so many cherished moments with him that seemed to become lost altogether when the fights had started.

He breathes a chuckle through his nose, looking out the window towards the moon's glow, following its trail back to you. Leaning down closer, he nudges your cheek with his nose, his hair tickling your skin as  it falls over you. “You are my moon,” he whispers underneath your ear. “Always my moon. No matter what phase.” Tiny goosebumps begin pricking at your skin when his lips meet the skin under your ear. 

Suddenly, he stops, lifting away from you and moving towards the door. You’re left confused, worried that you’ve let this go too far. “Jake?” You ask, to which he only responds with a smile as he quickly and quietly walks out of the room. 

What the – ?

Sitting up, you start to stand up, feeling the need to go after him to figure out what is going on. 

But before you even make it off the bed, he’s walking back in, carrying his tote bag on his shoulder. 

“Lay back down,” he whispers, “Just like you were before.” Digging into his bag, he pulls out his Nikon before setting the leather satchel on the floor. “I am a photographer, so that means I naturally have an eye for beauty.” He turns his camera on as he walks toward you, adjusting a few of the settings. “You are a thing of pure beauty, and the moon is painting you perfectly with its light just where you are. I need to capture this.”

I should’ve known. 

Your heart begins to pound in your chest, the thrumming filling your ears. How this man, after all this time, after everything, can still fluster you in this way is entirely beyond you. 

Just as he requested, you lay yourself down once more, positioned just like you were before he left the room. Only now, you’re being a little more intentional about the way your body looks, lifting your sweater to show your midriff more than before and poking your ass out just a bit. He peaks his eye through the lens, bending just a little to get the perfect angle. “Ah, right there. Don’t move, Luna.” 

The camera clicks once. Then again. He moves to the left a little, closer to the window, capturing a few from this angle as well. 

This was a common thing for Jake to do way back when, as he began discovering his love for photography. You were his model, his muse, as he called you. There were several instances that you found yourself modeling for him, posing in front of dozens of new cameras to test their quality.

And, there were those few times that the photos were only for him. Only for his eyes to bear witness to. A few of those times were during your honeymoon, one of the nights being the one that Laramie was conceived. 

While the photos he’s taking now are a little less risque in nature, the act is flustering you all the same. Just as it always did.

After having taken a few more, he looks through them, smiling while he does so. “Art, my Luna,” he says, shutting off his camera and placing it back in his bag. “You are art.” 

You feel your heart racing again as he walks toward you again, placing himself in the same position he was in before he fetched his camera. You want to ask if you can see the photos, but once he begins kissing you again, wet lips connecting to the skin of your neck, the words just can’t make it out of your mouth. 

His kisses move slowly down the column of your neck as your head carefully falls back, his lips gradually coming closer to your collarbone where he gently sucks the tight skin. Your breath, stolen from you the instant he does so. He motions for you to lay yourself down all the way, taking the weight from your elbows. He positions himself just right between your legs as you wrap them around his thighs. His lips then follow a path to your neck once more, breathy kisses making their way back to your lips. 

His hands, ever so deliberate and purposeful, grab hold of your waist, lifting your back just a little from the bed. His fingers knead at the skin, squeezing gently before they fall to your hips. Just the same, he lifts them slowly, lifting your skirt up to your hip bones before reaching behind to hold your ass with both hands. The slight elevation of your hips places your core right against his dick, feeling it pulse beneath his grey sweats. Your body instinctively grinds into him at the contact, your walls beginning to flutter when you feel him following your lead. 

“Jake…,” you mutter into his lips with what little breath you’re able to speak with. He doesn’t bother asking you what you need, what you want. He already knows. He’s always known. You’re certain there’s no man on this earth that could ever take care of you as well as him. 

He knew your body – studied it. He knew every single way to ensure your pleasure, everywhere to touch and taste. How to do it. 

And you, knowing the ways his body felt the best. He’d always tell you that you knew him better than he knew himself. And while that may have been true, you thought the very same of him. You’d spent so much time with each other, so much time learning each other. 

He moves his hands from your ass to the hem of your sweater, moving his body down so that he’s eye level with your tummy. As he slowly lifts your top, gliding it up towards your breasts, he kisses each bit of skin as it becomes exposed. Kissing every inch of your tummy, until he reaches your bra. He stops there, removing your sweater completely from your body. 

And once he’s done that, he places his attention back to your breasts, taking one in each hand. The white lace of your bra does nothing to cover your perked nipples, him rubbing his thumbs over them as he kisses where your cleavage meets in the middle. “I’ve missed these,” he mutters, breathy, pulling the cups of your bra down below each breast. 

Your nipples perk even more once the cool air of your room hits them. But, it doesn’t last for too long. Jake’s mouth, wet and warm, wraps around the bud of your left breast, his tongue drawing slow circles. The right one becomes enclosed in the palm of his hand, squeezing the flesh with his fingers. 

“God I’ve missed these,” he iterates, lifting his face from your breast, the tip of his tongue offering tiny licks where his mouth once was. He then brings his lips to the right breast, giving it the same attention as he sucks the bud into his warm mouth. 

“Oh Jake – feels so good…,” you muster, shakily, lifting your arms to lay above your head. With his mouth still caressing your breast, his hands hold you just above your ribs on both sides, lifting you into him even more. His lips leave your nipple with one last, gentle suck, before he plants deep kisses down your sternum. 

 “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you,” he mumbles into your skin, lips kissing further and further down your tummy. Once he reaches the waistband of your skirt, he pulls you a little closer to the edge of the bed by your hips, sinking down to the floor on his knees. 

His tongue glides over the skin of your inner thigh, still covered by your pantyhose. He does the same to the other one, alternating between both as he slowly comes closer to your burning heat. Your walls, fluttering, clenching. Your desire leaking from you with every move he makes on your body. 

One thing you remember about Jake – he would always take his time with you. He would always take the time to please you, to cover each inch of you in kisses and sweet touches. Even if there wasn’t enough time for sex, he would still take whatever time there was for you. 

And tonight, being no exception to his rule of pleasing you, has you all the more enticed by him. 

And ready for him. 

Just before his lips find your core, he takes your skirt, still bunched up at your hip, and pushes it up even further so that it’s now bunched at your waist. And after that, fingers from both of his hands slip inside the band of your pantyhose on either side, slowly pulling them and your thong down your hips. He moves back just a little, enough to be able to remove them from you, tossing both of the under garments on the floor beside him. 

When he moves back, his lips find your inner thighs once more. With each kiss, your breaths become more and more labored, and as he kisses the skin directly next to your aching pussy, it becomes caught in your chest. He kisses once more there, and the breathy moan that leaves your lips is followed by a whispering of his name. 

“I think I’ve missed this most of all.” You can feel the breath from his words against your wetness, making your body shiver and tremble.

And you absolutely believe him. It was his favorite thing, something he would do randomly, any chance he had, and every chance he had. He would worship your pussy, taste you for hours at a time. He would beg to have your pussy on his mouth. Not like he needed to, though. You loved it as much as he did. 

The spontaneity of it, the way his mouth would find you when you were doing something as mundane as cooking, or watching a movie. You almost never took a bath or a shower without him joining you. 

He says he missed it, but you’d bet you have missed it even more. 

The second his skilled tongue glides through your folds, your body nearly jolts at the feeling. He hums at his first taste in years, digging into your hips with his fingernails. He takes his time, letting his tongue explore you again. Sucking your clit gently, just how you always liked. Babying it with his tongue, keeping the movements soft and careful. “You’ve always tasted so sweet,” he whispers before his tongue makes one long, slow stride from your entrance to your clit. 

Each motion, so calculated, so thoughtful. He’s remembered every little thing that would get you there every single time. And the way his hair is tickling at your inner thighs, your lower tummy…

The sensation of it all nearly brings tears to your eyes. It’s the kind of pleasure that you could cry from. And it’s a pleasure you’ve gone so long without. 

His tongue flicks against your throbbing clit, then again, and again. Each one pushes you closer and closer to the edge, and the closer you get, the faster his tongue gets. 

And because of that, it only takes one more flick of his tongue to cause your pussy to throb, your walls clenching and spasming. Your tummy fluttering, your limbs feeling numb yet on fire all at once. Your release trickles and pools beneath you, all while Jake plants careful kisses to your pussy, kissing you through it until your breathing is back to normal. 

This feeling…you had completely forgotten it. Forgotten how surreal it felt for Jake to bring your body to its peak, how truly out of body it always was. 

If there’s ever a day that someone else enters your life and has you like this, they will be held to the highest standard that Jake has set for you. You know that no one will ever make you feel this way.

“Oh…my…god…,” you utter through deep breaths, the vision slowly coming back to your eyes. And as it does, you see Jake’s striking face leaning over you, his lips wet and glittering as the moonlight falls upon him, enhancing his beautiful features all the more. “Jake, I – I’ve missed you so fucking much,” you tell him, your voice becoming wet and choked with tears. 

How did you ever let this man walk out of your life? How did things get so bad that signing divorce papers seemed like the best thing to do? You’ve spent practically every day of your life loving Jake Kiszka. From the moment you met as children, to taking his last name as your own, to having his daughter. 

And even as your name inked the papers that would solidify your separation, you still loved him. 

Every emotion begins to surface, and try as you might to hold them down, you just can’t. Your cries turn into near sobs, hands coming up to cover your eyes as you’re flooded with how badly you’ve missed him. How much you want things to be the way they were.

“Hey, hey,” he shushes you, concern present in his quiet voice. “What is it, Luna? Tell me what’s wrong.”  

His fingers brush some hair out of your face, tucking the strands behind your ear. When you move your hands from your eyes, he kisses away the tears falling from them, holding your face in the palm of his hand. Looking into his eyes only serves to make it all hurt worse. 

“I just miss you, Jake,” you manage to say after letting yourself calm down enough to speak. “And after that awful date tonight, it just reminded me of a lot of things and I –.” 

“I miss you, y/n,” he sighs, holding your eyes with his in his very own Jake way. “I miss you more than you will ever comprehend.” As he kisses your lips, you feel your body begin to relax again, feeling comfort from him that you’ve always felt. “I haven’t stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you.”

“Jake,” you whisper as he kisses you again, and he hums in response, letting you know to continue. “I love you so much,” you admit against his lips.  

He hums again, a gentle groan as he lifts himself up on the bed, keeping his lips locked with yours. You sit up, scooching yourself back and making room for him. As you do, you reach for your skirt that’s still sitting against your waist and pull it down, Jake helping you take it off the rest of the way. 

Once it’s off, he lays himself between your spread legs, his clothed cock sitting flush against your core, pulsing beneath the fabric. You can’t stand it any longer, so you reach your hand down and begin pulling at the waistband of his sweats, sliding them down his hips as best you can from your position. He helps you with one hand, pulling them down the rest of the way and kicking them off with his feet. 

You then go for his shirt, yanking it from his shoulders so hard that it rips the neck line halfway down the shirt. After that, he lifts up, taking the tattered remains of his t-shirt in each and ripping it in half completely,  finally ridding himself of his shirt that’s now in pieces.

“Wait.” You stop him before he comes back to you as you catch sight of him, needing a moment to just look at him. The way the moonlight contours his body, how it’s casting a silver glow against his bare skin…he looks otherworldly. This vision is one you know will be permanently stamped in your memories for the rest of time.

You’ve always loved his body. His pecks, his tummy, his legs. His arms that have certainly gained more muscle tone since you were married. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. For more reasons than just the physical. 

But as he’s on his knees before you, his tummy littered with droplets of sweat, his cock hard and throbbing, the unadulterated desire to feel him inside of you again is the only thing you can think about. 

“C’mere,” you whisper, beckoning him with your finger. As he leans back down, your legs wrap around his waist again, positioning yourself just right as he lines himself up with you, nudging you with the tip of his cock. “I love you, Jake,” you say again, holding his face, kissing his lip. “And I need you.” 

“My beautiful Luna,” he mutters as he steadily glides himself inside, slowly filling you. He lets out a deep sigh, his brows furrowed in the middle as he bites his lower lip. He pushes in all the way, his tip now nudging against your cervix. 

As if it were possible, you’ve somehow forgotten how big he is. The thickness, the girth. No matter how often he was inside of you, you never got over the way he would stretch you, each and every time. 

The tear-inducing pleasure begins to overwhelm you once more as he begins a slow thrust, filling you all the way each time. He remembers just how you liked it – giving you the chance to feel him, every thick inch of him. You had just always loved the way he felt inside of you, the way he fit you so incredibly. 

Everything about the way he’d fuck you, how he’d treat your body as though it were ethereal and powerful. That he was privileged to be able to connect with you this way. Worshipping is the only way to describe it. He cared for you, put your needs above his. 

He had always done that. Even when things began to crumble in your marriage. Even when he was angry, he never let your body go without being pleased. Never. 

And when he saw what your body was capable of after you gave birth, he made certain that your body was cherished and loved the way it deserved. 

After all this time, after years of being apart and living separate lives, he’s fucking you like you are still his wife. Slow in pace, deep and hard thrusts so you can feel him. His thighs slapping against the backs of yours. This was always his favorite way to fuck you, said he loved the way your breasts bounced everytime he thrust into you. 

He loved watching you, and you loved watching him. His face, his body colliding with yours. 

All of it, every bit of it is the same. Even better, if it were ever possible. 

He lifts your leg, letting it rest over his shoulder. This angle, the one that allows him to hit the perfect spot inside of you, the spot that makes your tummy burn and your walls flutter. He knows the right angles, the ones that your body responds to the most. 

And when your body responds this way, he fucking loves it. 

“There it is,” he mutters, his breathing heavy and deep. “I feel you, Luna. Squeeze me, baby.” 

His pace picks up, his cock hitting that spot over and over again. Faster, heavier, deeper. His name spills from your lips, your confessions of love coming out in staggered whispers. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says, repeating it with every thrust. And he keeps saying it, says it until your walls clench hard around his cock, spasming deliciously as he fucks you through your second climax of the night. 

And with it, his cock begins twitching and pulsing, his movements less calculated and more desperate. The sounds coming from his parted lips, the way his tummy is flexing, you know he’s reaching his own end. 

Desperate as he is, he’s still careful. With one more hard thrust into you, he pulls himself out, pumping himself and spilling his warmth all over your tummy, reaching to the undersides of your breasts.

His face is contorted in the most beautiful vision. A mix of relief and adoration on his features as he looks up on you, your heaving body covered in sweat and him.

Though you know it’s absurd and irresponsible as hell, a small part of you is sad he didn’t finish inside. The two of you, turbulent as you were together, still made the most perfect baby.

The thought of giving Lara a sibling is one you’ve had for a long time now. But you don’t want that with anyone else. Only Jake.  

The timing would be terrible. You know that. But you can’t help but mourn the thought. There’s no doubt in your mind that, if you were still married, you would’ve tried for another baby. 

“Just like old times, yeah?” He utters as gently cleanses your skin with a damp towel he retrieved from the bathroom. He offers sweet and soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. Telling you again how much he loves you, and you say it in return after each time. 

As he finishes, he walks to the dresser, the one that once to held his own clothes. To no surprise, he remembers that you’ve always kept your underwear in the top middle drawer. He pulls out a pair that’s been a tried and true favorite of yours to wear at night. A simple pair of black boyshorts that he’s seen you in dozens of times. 

He then reaches for the drawer directly underneath that one, pulling out one of your oversized t-shirts. 

Before he walks them over to you, he puts his sweatpants back on, letting them hang low from his waist, just above his pubic bone. A sight for sore eyes, no doubt.

He hands your clothes to you as he gets back in bed, watching with a sleepy smile as you put them on. 

Once you’re dressed, he pulls out the covers, letting you lay down first. You position yourself on your side, and, just as you wanted, he lays behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and nuzzling his nose in the back of your neck. The way you fell asleep every night for years. In the safety of his embrace, in the comfort of his touch. 

↟ᨒ.⊹݁⚘⊹⚘⊹⚘ ⊹.ᨒ↟

Jake has long since fallen asleep, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. Something you’d forgotten about, that you’re being reminded of in this moment, is that even in his sleep, he will kiss the back of your neck every so often. Quiet kisses, more or less just placing his lips on you while he dreams. 

Laying in his arms, the way you did all those years ago, everything feels perfect once again. It feels right. The pieces, though tattered and ripped apart over the years, have suddenly fallen back in place. You’ve  missed this. Missed everything about it. His breathing, his peaceful snores.

This moment, right now as you’re curled up with the man who carries the title of your ex husband, it feels as though things could work. Maybe you could try again, learn the ways you’ve both grown, give this life with him a second chance.

Or. 

Maybe this is it. This moment serves as a lapse in time, a beautiful walk down the path that holds so many memories. The best memories. But they’re only memories. 

Those days, though dear to your heart, just don’t exist anymore. Your life, his life…what if your paths for the future are just too different? What if this moment, however perfect and wonderful it may be, will eventually turn into the reasons you couldn’t be together anymore?

Tonight made you feel as though everything with you and Jake ended for no reason, that your lives were perfect and seamless.  

That’s not the reality of it, though. There were reasons that ultimately led to your divorce. A lot of reasons. Of course you forgot them on the night of your first date since the split, the date that will go down in history as being the worst of your lifetime. 

But now, you’re thinking clearly enough to remember those reasons.  

Your lives were far from perfect. The furthest from perfect as any two lives shared together could be. 

But you loved each other more than anything and anyone. A love so deep, so profound and seemingly indestructible. There was a time when you would’ve never thought in your darkest dreams that there would come a day that Jake wasn’t a part of. Your love for each other simply surpassed every expectation, every phase. Just like the moon. Changing, but still beautiful. 

But even a love such as that wasn’t enough then. So, what if it isn’t enough now? 

You don’t know what the future holds. Beyond tonight, you can’t be sure what will come of any of this. And you don’t want to get your hopes up, fall for him even harder than before, all for it to crumble yet again. 

And this time, you fear the pain would be much worse than before. 

So, no. You don’t know what the future will bring. You don’t even know what tomorrow will bring. 

And even if this moment is fleeting, it can still be added to the memories you have with him. To the perfect memories you’ve captured with Jake Kiszka.

Your moon. 

The only man you’ve ever loved.

The only man you’ll ever want. 

And the man you can’t have.

↟ᨒ.⊹݁⚘⊹⚘⊹⚘ ⊹.ᨒ↟

a/n: i'm sorry. lol. there could be a part two to this. there might be a part two to this. should there be a part two to this? sound off, loves!

as always, let me know what you think! i truly love hearing from you all. makes my heart so happy. 🥹 my inbox is always open!

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@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @klarxtr r @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge @dancingcarbon @fleetingjake @scoreofinfantryvines @jamiemydeer @sacredthethreadgvf @fuckyoutommie

[leviathanlazarus]

The Cowboy & His Horse

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~2800

Warnings: pure smut feat. jealous Sam ;) tipsy sex; bathroom sex; intercrural sex; hair-pulling; anal fingering; bottom!Sam; 18+ only <3

Guess who's back? Holy fuck, guys, it's been AGES. Nearly two years since I posted a GVF fic. I started writing this one in October 2024 for my usual slash Halloween collection, then just lost my momentum with it. I went back to it a few times and worked on it a bit, but recently became absolutely determined to finish it. I've been listening to GVF a lot lately and feeling super nostalgic, and then that cryptic IG post...goddamn. Heart attack. I feel more optimistic since the IG story with Jake, but still. I need something with more clarity. Anyway, it's obviously not spooky season, but I wanted to post this now. I miss my old fandom friends and the boys themselves, and I really enjoyed returning to writing my favorite pairing <3

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Sam was told he was a jealous person by everyone he’d ever dated–it wasn’t news to him. It certainly wasn’t news to Josh and Jake, who had been the first ones to point out that little green monster living in Sam’s brain when they were kids and Sam couldn’t handle being left out, or deal with his brothers hanging out with other people too long, or even simply ride in the middle seat of the minivan. Definitely not in the back. It had never really been news to anyone, including Danny, Sam’s best friend, his partner in crime, his other half–so why was Danny seemingly forgetting about his place in Sam’s tightly wound heart? 

Well, the abundance of booze was a factor. Sam was aware of that. He’d drank even more than Danny, probably, if his loose calculations had been correct, but Danny handled it differently. Booze encouraged Sam’s wild and chaotic side; booze made Danny into the confident, flirtatious person that lived inside of him all the time but usually remained quietly in the background. Sam loved that version of him, but really, he only loved that version when Danny saved it for Sam and Sam alone. 

So why, at this overstuffed and not-so-great Halloween party, was Danny being so flirtatious with people that weren’t Sam, and how was Sam supposed to not feel the little green monster evolving into a terrible beast inside himself?

His costume seemed so wrong now. Instead of this stupid horse costume, Sam thought he should have gone as a big bad wolf or even Cujo with the way he was clenching his jaw and stifling an irritated growl. He was also salivating like a dog for fuck’s sake, because even though Danny was pissing him off, he also looked so good. If he were a dog for real, Sam would be foaming at the mouth just like some of these other partygoers might as well have been.

Sam could understand the girls flocking to Danny; he could even understand Danny eating up that attention instead of more handfuls of Halloween candy. What Sam couldn’t understand was why not even the most intense and unwavering stares weren’t pulling Danny out of it for even a second. For fuck’s sake, Sam was in a horse costume, with the big, fluffy chestnut head resting in the crook of his arm as he fisted another beer in his free hand. How could he not be catching Danny’s attention through the throng of girls in tiny skirts and lace-up corsets, because despite that, Sam knew he was better than them, even if it wasn’t the kind of attention he wanted right now? 

Any attention was better than none at all, he concluded before he chugged the rest of that beer. Then he slipped the soft and stuffy horse head over his own and marched right over to Danny, forced to shove his way through a few girls to grab the long, strong arm covered in denim.

“Come with me, cowboy,” Sam said, doubtful Danny could even understand him through the muffling of the mask and Danny’s own inebriation.

“Sam–Sammy!” Danny exclaimed with drunken jubilation, laughing as he was yanked away from the flock. When Sam just kept pulling him along and Danny’s laughter subsided, he asked, “Where is my valiant steed taking me?”

Sam hadn’t started with a plan in place but now that he was moving, he could see the upstairs bathroom in his mind’s eye. Didn’t anyone else catch onto the fact that he and Danny had showed up in a couple’s costume? Didn’t anyone get the idea that maybe they should back off of his cowboy?

He tore the stupid horse head off again, then yanked on the doorknob without knocking; from inside, a guy called out that he’d be “one more second” and Sam scoffed as he planted his backside against the wall. Danny stood in front of him and fished a little packet of Skittles out of the pocket of his jacket, ripped it open and poured all of them into his mouth.

“You needed company for this?” he asked, chewing, then Sam watched his throat bob as he swallowed. 

Sam’s eyes raked down from Danny’s face, coasting the length of his body in that denim jacket that was a little loose, but not loose enough to disguise the slim-fitting flannel beneath. The jacket wasn’t buttoned and neither was that flannel, which left Danny’s tan chest and black chest hair on display. Down further, and Sam paused as he looked at his crotch, also covered in denim, and up again just an inch at the thick brass belt buckle.

He reached out and tugged at it, yanking him forward. Danny laughed, sounding surprised, and put his hands on Sam’s shoulders.

“Oh,” he said. “That sort of company.”

Sam shoved him away with the horse head, pushing it against Danny’s stomach. His emotions were flip-flopping, but the one feeling that remained constant was pure horniness. “You’re a genius, Daniel.”

Danny slipped the Skittles wrapper into his pocket and frowned. Before he could say anything, the bathroom door opened and the guy who’d been exacerbating Sam’s impatience emerged. Sam thought this dude looked pretty unimpressive in his tattered shirt and attempt at zombie makeup, but Danny said, “Cool costume, man,” which just pissed him off even more.

Sam yanked Danny inside the bathroom, which turned out to be pretty big and shockingly clean, not that he would have cared otherwise right now. This was going to happen no matter what, and he locked the door as he pressed Danny back against it at the same time.

“You’re in a mood,” Danny said, taking his cowboy hat off and putting it on Sam instead.

Sam immediately pulled it off and set it, along with the horse head, on the shelf next the door that was a little cluttered with deodorant and body sprays. He gripped the collar of Danny’s shirt and pulled him in for a kiss that, now that he had him alone, he intended to be somewhat soft, a sort of plea for Danny to finally catch on, but it was all tongue and teeth.

The fun, chaotic part of Sam that grew stronger with the aid of booze felt far away; instead, he felt the charge of that rabid dog again, that need to tear into Danny becoming even more frenzied. Still chaotic, but not so much fun, although Danny actually giggled against Sam’s mouth as that pair of frantic, impatient hands tugged at the flannel shirt and worked quickly to get the rest of the buttons undone.

“You’re an attention whore when you’re drunk,” Sam said, his voice already so rough that it didn’t sound even slightly humorous or good-natured underneath. But maybe it went beyond that–maybe he was even more pissed off that no one caught onto their couple’s costume. Maybe he was more pissed off because it was too hard and too much to actually put themselves out in the open, and maybe he was tired of it.

“Speak for yourself,” Danny replied, and his voice was soft, making him even more alluring. He was so easy to manipulate right now–it took no effort for Sam to unbuckle that belt, pry it apart and start palming at Danny’s bulge.

When Sam looked down, he was suddenly distracted by the short, brown fuzzy fabric on his wrist, his whole arm, his whole body. He groaned and said, as Danny laid his head back against the door and closed his eyes, “I shouldn’t have worn this.”

Danny hummed. Sam could feel those bright eyes on him again, so he met Danny’s gaze just as his boyfriend said, “You look cute.”

Sam scoffed. “No one gets it though.” Nevertheless, the tension in his body was slowly easing up–it finally hit him that despite Danny being, yeah, an attention whore and Sam being angry that there was no one else Danny would be doing this with. 

“So what?” Danny replied, like it was the easiest thing, like everything was so simple. “I get it.” He laced his fingers through Sam’s hair at the back of his head and pulled him in again, pressing his lips to Sam’s neck. “I’m your cowboy, right? And no one rides me but you.”

Sam gave a little snort. Danny was definitely still in the thick of his inebriation, yet he was steadily getting hard beneath Sam’s hand. “I think it’s the other way around right now,” Sam noted, slipping his hand underneath Danny’s boxers. “Since I’m the horse.”

Danny grunted softly. “Nah,” he said in that soft, velvety voice again that made a deep ache wrench in Sam’s gut. He kissed Sam’s jaw while he pulled the zipper of the ridiculous horse costume down, then pressed his hands flat against Sam’s chest. 

Sam could feel how warm his own body was and if he looked down, he’d undoubtedly see the flush across his chest that was partly alcohol, partly Danny. But he kept his gaze fixed on Danny’s face as his best friend, partner, boyfriend, everything, cast his own down onto Sam’s bare skin. Those long, dark lashes fluttered just once as he slid his hands down to Sam’s abdomen, and Sam sighed softly when one of those hands finally made it down to the waistband of his briefs.

“Not tonight,” Danny said, and Sam blinked–he’d totally forgotten what had even been said before deft fingers and a warm palm circled his bare cock that was already painfully hard, straining against his briefs and twitching in Danny’s hand. He could still remember all the reasons he’d been pissed off, but had no voice to express his grievances any longer–certainly not when Danny suddenly grabbed him and shoved him across the tile and down against the cold porcelain sink.

The stuffy, scratchy fabric was pulled away from Sam’s body, yanked all the way down until the leg holes pooled around his ankles and it was just him, almost naked, with Danny pressed against his backside. He opened his mouth to say something–he felt a little guilty now. He’d been such a dick and for what? The foreplay was making him go soft–emotionally. Physically, he was still rigid in Danny’s hand, that same hand that had started to pump him as Danny’s own suddenly bare groin rubbed against Sam’s ass. 

“Well, I guess I am riding you now,” Danny remarked with a short, husky laugh, and rutted up against Sam again. “Kind of.” 

Sam groaned and gripped the edges of the sink. When Danny removed his hand, he whined, then cut it off. But then he thought, no, if anyone was outside or was going to be outside that door, he wanted them to hear. He’d strut out of the bathroom like it was his right to screw around in there, and Danny would bound out with a cheeky smile that he’d flash at Sam like it was their little secret, except it wouldn’t be. 

So, when Danny’s hand returned wet with spit and his hard-on nudged between his thighs, Sam let a moan tear right out of his throat. But, as quickly as it came, the contact was gone–Sam looked up in the mirror and Danny was stepping away, stepping back and turning his head to the side.

“Ha. Perfect,” he said, quietly yet triumphantly, when he plucked a bottle of lotion from the same shelf they’d been pressed next to just two minutes ago. Sam lifted himself on the sink but didn’t turn around–he just watched in the mirror as Danny squeezed some into his hand, then returned and snaked his hand around Sam’s erection once more.

It wasn’t real lube, so it wasn’t perfect, but Sam had no objection to the warm, slick palm squeezing his cock that was already leaking precum into Danny’s fingers. He sucked in a sharp breath when Danny pried his thighs apart and the tender flesh was coated with the lotion, head spinning–this hadn’t been the plan. It was the opposite of his plan. He had been intent on bending Danny over and doing this but somehow, his boyfriend had gotten the upper hand.

And Danny wasn’t wasting any time. His pubic hair stimulated Sam’s ass, the feeling of it surprisingly soft and contrasted by the rough push of his hips that slid his cock between Sam’s legs. He leaned forward, rested his chin on Sam’s shoulder, and started to thrust back and forth with a familiar rhythm. 

But the environment was totally unfamiliar, and being able to look at Danny in the mirror, the two of them surrounded by a complete stranger’s personal effects, made Sam moan again. It was hot, doing this in some rando’s bathroom while a whole crowd downstairs wasn’t having nearly as much fun. And no one from downstairs had gotten their hands on Danny–that was all Sam. 

Danny smirked but quickly made the expression of self-satisfaction disappear, shielding himself in Sam’s hair, nosing his way through it to kiss Sam’s neck, warm lips teasing the fluttering pulse. An even harder shove jostled Sam into the sink, and he reached one arm behind himself, groping for Danny’s hair, and kept himself in place with his other hand on the porcelain. It didn’t matter that Danny was the one in charge–what mattered was that Sam finally had him.

“Fuck.” Danny’s voice was lower and rougher now, and the word was punctuated with a little bite to Sam’s neck. Sam sighed with contentment and let his eyes close, but they rapidly opened and he blinked in surprise as Danny grabbed his hips and pulled him away from the sink, then planted a hand on his lower back to push him down. “That’s it,” he affirmed as Sam was maneuvered onto his elbows and into an arch. “God, you’re fucking sexy.”

Danny’s drunken, aroused drawl was almost like a real cowboy. Sam chuckled and brought his hand down to his cock, Danny’s grip on his hips unrelenting. “This is what I wanted,” he said with a toss of his head, his hair draping over his shoulder. “Just you–” Danny grunted and grabbed a fistful of Sam’s hair. “All to myself.” 

“Now you got me.” Danny tugged on Sam’s hair, drawing an elated whimper out of him. 

Sam could catch just enough of Danny in the mirror to see his cheeks flushed and his chest rising and falling, then his reflection was gone. He pressed his face between Sam’s shoulder blades and kissed and nipped, the movement of his mouth sloppy, delightful, titillating, and Sam stroked himself faster, his cock twitching in his hand, his balls heavy and bouncing with each thrust of Danny’s cock between his thighs.  

“Goddammit, Sam, you–fuck–” Danny moaned against Sam’s spine and went even harder, each strong thrust making Sam’s whole body bounce and moans continually churn out of him. A strong arm wrapped around Sam’s chest, pulling him up and holding him tight, then Danny shuddered and his hips sputtered and Sam felt the warm release flood between his thighs.

Before he could say anything, Danny dropped to his knees behind Sam. Sam stayed bent over, so close that he didn’t dare move beside keep jerking himself off, now desperate to get his own release. 

“Oh fuck,” he bit out, a shudder of his own rippling down his spine, because Danny chomped down on one ass cheek as his fingers swept through the cum and lotion. That gentle touch was enough to veer Sam even closer to the edge, his cock so hard and hot in his hand, but when Danny slid one finger inside him, he reared up, sputtering curses, and shot not only into his own hand but onto the cabinet in front of his tingling, tightening groin.

Danny didn’t stop there, though. He pushed his finger in deeper to tease Sam’s prostate even as Sam’s body tried to come down and ease its way through the orgasm he’d been craving all night, and bit into his skin again, pulling away with a sharp sucking sound.

“Okay, okay, fuck.” Sam hauled himself away from the sink and away from Danny’s merciless hands. 

Danny just laughed and wrapped him up in his arms, his thick, wet cock rubbing into Sam’s lower back. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

With a heavy exhale, Sam ran his hand through his hair and took a moment to close his eyes and try to breathe. “Yeah. Yeah.” He yelped when Danny smacked his ass, which made his boyfriend laugh again. Sam was spent; Danny seemed rejuvenated, maybe even geared up for another round.

If that were the case, they needed to go home, and the thought of Sam’s original plan made his cock twitch one last time.

“Okay.” Sam wiggled around so he could face his gorgeous cowboy. He slung his arms over Danny’s shoulders and sighed, then chuckled lightly in response to Danny’s bright smile. “Can we go now?”

“Mhm.” Danny kissed him, soft and sweet. “I’ll be a good cowboy and ride you, Sammy.”

That was everything Sam needed to hear. 

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Tagging (who's even here at this point? lmao): @mackalah @lightsofthe-living-gvf @kissingsun @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @brokebellsgvf @streamsofstardust @wetkleenex-gvf @heckingfrick @musicspeaks @thewritingbeforesunrise @gretavanhockey @cheersdannyx2 @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

[daisyful-gvf]

roommates // by daisyful

18+

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pairings: jake x reader

word count: 5k

tags: sex toys, roommates!au, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pwp basically, pet names because i can’t help myself, dirty talking

notes: i never thought i’d write this many fics with a vibrator involved, but here we are lmao. This happened bc of this post . minimally edited.

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“You’re fucking kidding me”

Of course, today of all days, the batteries would die. You huff out a few more curses and remove the lifeless vibrator from between your legs, throwing it on the bed beside you.

For a moment you lay there and frown, wondering if this is a sign you should just go to bed. Today had tested you far too frequently, and you couldn’t deal with much more. The thought of trying to get off any other way after you’d been so close with the toy seemed not worth the hassle.

Then, your brain throws you a hail mary: there’s batteries in the kitchen drawer. Perfect.

You tug on a pair of cotton underwear and smooth out your oversized t-shirt. It settles at the tops of your thighs, and you figure that’s decent enough for a run to the kitchen at 2:00 in the morning.

Your body carries you to the kitchen through the darkness, only broken by the light of the TV your roommate must have left on.

It causes you to roll your eyes—an old western is playing. You never had the pallet for them, even in an ironic sense. But Jake—your roommate of about a year now—loved them, for some reasons he had droned on about before when you expressed your disinterest.

You go straight for the drawer by the fridge, full of scissors and charging cords and pennies and mail, fishing around for the AA batteries.

“Whatcha need?”

“Fuck!” Your chest pounds as you clutch dramatically at your shirt, whirling around to see the source of the voice.

Jake blinks at you, eyebrows raised in amusement. He lays on the couch, in his plaid pajama pants and t shirt, feet covered by a throw blanket.

“You up to something sneaky? Why so jumpy?” He grins.

“Fuck off,” you roll your eyes, “It’s dark, I didn’t see you,” you grumble.

“Jesus,” he laughs, “Bad day?”

You just nod, rummaging again through the drawer for the batteries.

“You need help?” He asks, his voice getting closer as he walks into the kitchen.

“Where are our batteries?” You murmur, closing that drawer and trying the next.

He ‘hmm’s for a second, and then answers, “Why the hell do you need batteries at 2am? You building something?”

“Yes, a robot,” you deadpan, “Mind your business. Do you know where they are?”

“Damn, what’s wrong?” you can hear the smile in his voice and you finally look up at him, growing impatient.

“Do you know where they are or not?”

He looks you over, seemingly trying to understand the situation, and then, you realize that you’re in only your shirt and underwear. You can see him swallow and avert his eyes to the cabinet as he seems to realize the same.

“I think so,” he says softly, “Hang on.”

He fetches a shoe box from the hallway closet and brings it back to the kitchen, plopping it on the counter. There’s various tools and nails and command hooks, and then, alas, he pulls out a small container of AA batteries. Gently, he puts them in your hand.

“There,” he says softly, “You good?”

You nod and mutter a soft thank you before making a quick escape, looking forward to no longer being in front of him in your underwear.

You know it’s no big deal, and that you two have gotten comfortable. But there’s this tension, sometimes. Mostly like this, at night, sometimes intoxicated. Where the stares between you two linger a bit too long, and your mind begins to wonder. You always push it down, because it’s not a good idea, and you know that. And when the light of day comes around, you’re always relieved that things feel normal again.

So that’s what you do; push it aside. Back to the matter at hand: you latch your bedroom door behind you and head straight for the vibrator, popping it’s plastic plate off and fishing out the old batteries. And then you realize. They’re the wrong size.

You take a shaking breath, irritated and tired. Without thinking, you throw it back on the bed and walk back out into the living room, where Jake has cozied up on the couch.

“Do we have triple A?” You ask flatly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you. His eyes land on your bare thighs again, then flick back up quickly to your gaze.

“Triple A? Batteries?”

“Honey, what is this for?” He mumbles, getting off the couch again to help.

“It’s nothing,” you huff out, beginning to go through the shoebox again.

“Gotta tell me if you want help,” he smirks. You look up and he’s got a cocky hand on his hip, standing a couple of feet away. His hair is messy in the dim blue light, and he looks amused with himself.

No longer in possession of any patience to make up a story or fight off his questioning, you answer.

“My vibrator.”

His lips part in gentle shock, and the cocky expression leaves his face at once.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “You just had to know, huh?”

You laugh, because he looks so shy and unlike himself all the sudden. Possibly delirious from the late hour, he laughs too.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. You can see him blushing even in the low light.

“It’s fine,” you rush out, “I’ve just had a bad day, I’m just—” you give up looking through the box, rubbing a hand over your face, “I’m just frustrated. And I just needed—nevermind,” you shake your head, “It’s dead, I just need the batteries.”

He nods and pulls the shoebox closer to him on the counter, picking through the nails and thumbtacks and tape.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Honey,” he says quietly, “But I don’t think we have any.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh, “I’m gonna go to bed,” you pad a few steps away from him, “Goodnight. This didn’t happen,” you point a finger at him.

He salutes you and grins, headed back to the couch. Shoving your embarrassment down, you head to your room again and prepare for sleep. You can’t be bothered to mess with it again.

You’re just picking up the vibrator and putting the back piece back on when there’s a soft knock at the door.

Tucking the toy behind your back, you crack it open to reveal none other than Jake.

“Um,” he holds up the TV remote, “This has triple A batteries,” he says softly.

You look between the remote and him, a furious blush making its way across your face that he would care so much as to come tell you.

“Oh,” you say, eloquence evading you.

He passes it towards you and you open the door further, taking it from him in your open hand. You other stays tucked behind your back, hiding the toy in a way that feels very scandalous.

“Don’t you need this?” You ask, “You’re watching TV.”

He shrugs, “Not as bad as you do, apparently,” he grins and you can’t help but chuckle. “No, but, seriously, I’m probably gonna go to bed.”

You nod slowly, “Okay. Um,” you swallow. You should feel more nervous than you do. More embarrassed. There’s a bit of it, sure, but not much. It feels oddly comfortable. “Thank you.” You murmur.

He nods, and then licks his lip. You stare, because it seems to be almost in slow motion, and his bottom lip is left glossy. Here it is again: the tension. So easy to form in the late hours of the night.

“Mmhm,” he acknowledges your gratitude and he takes a breath, like he’s about to speak, but then his lips shut. He does it again, like he’s working up to saying it.

“Do you wanna make sure they work?” He asks, “Cause I can—if not, I can check my room, or something, um,” his hand grips the doorway and his fingers fidget with the wood. He’s doing a terrible job of acting casual about it, but you find it endearing.

“Sure,” you murmur, “Um,” you fumble with the toy behind your back, “Here, hang on.”

You turn around, just enough that he might not be able to plainly see it in your hand as you mess with it. But you can’t pop open the remote and the toy with both things in your hand, you realize quickly.

“Here,” he says gently, pushing your door open and touching you on the shoulder. He comes around to your side and takes the remote from your hand.

You watch him as he does, and while he looks a little bashful, you appreciate him not acknowledging what’s in your other hand.

With daft fingers, he removes the batteries from the remote as you take them out of the vibrator. You toss the old ones on your bed, and let him place the new ones in your palm. When you click them into place, the toy immediately buzzes to life.

“Oh—shit—“ you breathe, fumbling quickly to turn off the toy. You look at him in a panic, and mutter a soft, “Sorry. Thank you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything. He’s got an odd expression, and you think twice before asking, but then you can’t help it.

“What?” you ask.

“Uh,” he chuckles, “I don’t—um,” he runs his hand through his hair and looks back and forth between you and the vibrator, “Nothing.”

He doesn’t move, though. Doesn’t walk to the door, even a little bit.

“Jake,” you sigh, “What is it?”

“I just—“ he starts, and then he nibbles on his bottom lip again, “I probably…shouldn’t…”

You raise your brows at him, wondering what the hell he’s talking about.

“I just—“ he clears his throat, “If—if you had a hard day and you need…I mean, if you need to get off and—and if you just need, y’know, if you don’t wanna have to do a lot of work, I mean, if you’ve had a hard day—“

“Jake,” you giggle at his nonsense, “What?”

He collects himself with a breath, “I can help,” he says finally, “If you’d want that.”

“Help?” Your mouth goes dry at the thought that he’s saying what you think he is.

He nods, “Help. Just this once. Forget about it tomorrow, act like it never happened, all that good stuff, y’know.”

You know you’re standing there with a ridiculous expression on your face, but you can’t help it. You’re stunned.

“Oh,” you finally manage.

He just looks at you, perhaps scared to say anything else.

“You can say no,” he gives you the out, “Or you can say yes. It’s up to you.”

You note how quickly your thighs clench together at the thought, and how your cheeks heat. It’s undeniable that the offer sounds nice. Your day did suck, it would be nice to not have to think about it, just have someone else do the work. Especially someone as attractive as him, who you feel safe with, who you know would take care of you.

“Hm, Honey?” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “I don’t even have to touch you, I can just use the toy, but maybe—“

“Sure,” you surprise yourself with the answer.

“Yeah?” He trails the back of his knuckles over your jaw, “Sound nice?”

A shaky breath leaves you as his fingers graze softly.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “And really,” he licks his lips, “We’ll forget all about it tomorrow. S’just a favor.”

“Okay,” you agree.

“Wanna lay down?” His voice is lower, gentle still, but almost gravelly.

You nod and sit near the top of your bed, watching him intently as he pushes the remote aside and touches your ankle softly. There’s nothing but the soft whir of the fan for a moment as he looks up at you. Suddenly, he looks so much like himself. So familiar. It puts you at ease, and he must see it.

He traces his palm up from your ankle to the inside of your thigh, where he touches softly.

“That okay?” He murmurs. When you nod, he settles more, laying on his stomach between your ankles.

His palms are large and warm over your thighs, where they work to help you relax through broad sweeps over your skin. The only light is from the salt lamp on your dresser, so he glows soft orange.

You can feel the tension unwind as he sweeps his palm again and presses a kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Can I have that?” he smiles as he nods toward your hand, still clutched around the vibrator.

Quietly, you pass the slender silicone wand to him. He takes it in his large hand and flips it, the side with the button in his palm. He skims it down the inside of your thigh, warming you up to the touch. It steals your breath.

“Relax,” he soothes, kissing your thigh again, “Just me.”

You nod, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

“Help slide these off for me?” He nudges the hem of your shirt up on your hip and tugs at one side of your underwear.

Doing as he asks, you slip fingers under the other side and with him, you drag them down and off your ankles.

He tosses them to the floor and comes back to you, skirting the toy up your thigh again, closer and closer. He’s looking up at you for a moment, and you hold the eye contact and your breath, but then finally he spares a glance to your center.

His breath shudders from him and his eyes close momentarily. When they open, for the first time you see him turned on. You can’t pinpoint what it is in his demeanor, but it’s undeniable. It lights a fire in your belly so quickly you wonder why you didn’t do this ages ago.

“Honey…” he sighs, then a groan sounds from the back of his throat, “I don’t wanna keep you waiting, is that okay? Or you wanna go slow?”

“No,” you answer quickly, “Don’t have to go slow.”

He nods and hits the button on the toy, sending it buzzing to life. You can just barely hear the sharp intake of breath from him.

A bit too slow, even, for your liking, he drags the toy up your thigh again, before finally letting the it rest over your clit. You try not to cry out, instead biting down on your lip hard, and pushing your hips up into the touch.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says calmly, “You don’t need to be quiet. Helps me know better what to do if you’re not quiet.”

“Oka—” it’s cut off with a groan as he nestles it more firmly against you.

“Feel good?” He asks, voice still low. You nod frantically, “You can—“ you sigh, a bit scared to say it. Too turned on to think much more, you just do, “You can touch me, if you want.”

He looks up at you quickly, and oh, his eyelids are heavy with lust.

“Yeah?” he says, as if he’s not sure he’s heard you right.

“Mmhm,” you nod, “Please.”

“Fuck,” it rushes out of him, “Yeah, Honey.”

He moves the vibrator aside for a moment, letting it rest just to the side of you. He removes the hand that was holding your thigh and licks the pad of his thumb before he brings it to you, greeting your clit with slow circles. The touch burns a trail through your body, immediately heating your face and chest.

“Jake,” the way you say his name is nearing pathetic.

“Yeah?” He sounds almost in pain, his voice is tight.

“More,” you shudder.

“How—Jesus Christ“ he clears his throat, “Do you wanna tell me how you like it, or you just want me to—“

“Just—,” you feel frantic, like your skin is too hot, and you don’t know what you need. You reach for him, and your hand lands in the crown of his hair, “Please, something—I—”

“Okay,” he soothes, “Okay.”

Slowly still, he moves the toy down and eases against the slick of your entrance, and when you push your hips into it, he takes it as permission to ease it into you.

“Fuck,” you bite out.

“Good?” he checks in, kissing your leg.

“Yeah,” you gasp.

“Good,” he murmurs, and then he’s settling down, pressing kisses further and further along your inner thigh, until finally, he meets your clit in a gentle kiss.

“Jake,” you groan, loud, “Ohmygod.”

He hums against you, and then before you can even catch your breath, he licks a full stripe, stealing whatever sanity you could have possibly had left.

“Don’t stop,” you know you’re whining but you can’t help it, not even a bit. He licks and sucks slowly, letting the buzz from the toy and the warmth from his mouth carry you to your end. Your hand stays buried in his hair at the roots, where you try not to squeeze it too hard.

It’s almost humorous, that earlier you were trying so desperately to get off, and now that it's a hair’s width away, you wish you weren’t so close. You don’t want the sweet warmth of his tongue to leave. Sadly, you don’t have a choice.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, so he can back off if he wants, but he just groans into you, and keeps his motions steady.

You can’t breathe when it hits you, nor can you help the way your thighs tense around him. You’re pretty sure you almost pass out for a moment, as your vision goes all white when your eyes roll back. After it passes, and you can take a deep gasp of air again, he’s coming up for air.

“Fuck me,” he groans, “Fuck.”

You blink a few times so you can finally see him in the dim light again. He slides the vibrator from you and clicks it off, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Almost like he can’t help it, he gets up on his knees and grips the length of himself through the pajamas, his eyes rolling back and his lips falling open.

His eyes snap open to meet yours, and his hand falls away.

“Sorry,” he sighs quickly, “Sorry, I—“ he shakes his head, at a loss.

“It’s okay,” your chest heaves as you recover still from the orgasm.

You try to read him, to know where to go with this. Do you thank him? Do you offer to return the favor? That wasn’t part of this, though, maybe—

“Can I do it again?”

Your eyes meet his in some fiery standoff.

“What?”

He licks his lips, “Can I make you cum again?”

When you’re still silent for a moment, he adds, “Please?”

The groan that comes from you is much too loud and enthusiastic, and before you know it you’re reaching for him.

“Come here,” you plead, and he obliges, slotting with you and hovering over you, meeting you in a warm kiss.

“Fuck,” he says against your mouth, “I promise we can still forget about this tomorrow, if you want—“

“Shut up,” you smile, kissing him harder. He groans back and snakes a hand between your legs, where suddenly he’s nudging two fingers against you.

“Is—“

“Yes,” You answer before he can ask.

You gasp when they sink in, warm and full, so much better than the stupid vibrator.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he says against your cheek, as he’s nipping and licking a trail down your face, “I would—“ he swallows, you can hear it close to your ear, “I would fucking love to be inside you.”

“Oh my god,” it rushes out of you without thought, “Please.”

He groans, but pulls back.

“Are you sure—“

“Yes, Jake,”

“No, Honey, listen to me,” he holds your jaw in his hand, “We can still just pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow if you want, but please think about it for a second. I’m alright with it. Are you?”

You take a deep breath, and yeah, even when you think about it, even when it’s him, you want it. And you know he’d never hold it against you.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Yes.”

His lips curl into a wide grin, and then he’s back against your mouth, matching your fervor with his warm tongue. His fingers work still inside you, curling perfectly over and over.

You want him so badly all at once you can barely stand it, and without a second thought, it comes out of you:

“Can I ride you?”

His fingers halt and he groans so loud you almost wonder if he’s hurt, his head falls to your shoulder. Quickly, he collects himself, pulling his head up to look at you. He’s disheveled, and it’s hot. His hair is everywhere, his lips are swollen.

“As hot as that is, no, babe, this is still about you. Don’t want you to have to do any of the work.”

You’re trying to respond, but the way he said babe rings around in your head deafeningly loud.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he kisses your cheek, “I promise.”

Numb from the pleasure, you nod as he withdraws his fingers. He smiles as he slips off the bed and tugs his shirt over his head. You follow his form, tugging your shirt over yours. His eyes slow for a moment over your chest, and you both take each other in.

You’ve seen him shirtless, as he cooks breakfast, or when he comes home from a jog. You know he has soft sides, a defined chest, and wonderfully strong shoulders. It still makes you speechless.

Even more, when he tugs the string of his pajama pants loose and eases them gently down his hips, letting them fall to the floor, you can’t find words. The curve from his hips to his waist makes your mouth open in an intrigued shock. And god, the thick length of himself that he takes quickly into his hand is enough to stun you forever. You’re shocked you can find words to answer him when he asks,

“You want this?”

It’s low and sultry as he palms himself. His head is cocked just to the side, making dazed eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I—can I touch you?”

He bites on his bottom lip and nods, stepping closer to the side of the bed so that he’s within reach. Timidly, you reach up to take him into your hand. His hand moves, allowing it, and as your fingers wrap around him, your thighs clench. He releases a slow, shaky breath when you stroke him.

He’s warm, and thicker than at first glance. You can’t resist a peek up at his face as you move your hand slowly over him. His eyes are locked onto your hand, his lips parted in a sigh.

“Feels nice,” he thrusts experimentally into your grip, and his eyes roll back, “Your hand is so soft.”

You can’t help but giggle at that, and his eyes flit to your face. He chuckles too, pushing into your hand again.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “You ready?”

Nodding quickly, you greet him on the bed by sliding your legs back open, letting him kneel between them.

“Slide down a bit, babe,” he says quietly, touching your hip with delicate fingers.

You lay flat on the bed, letting him lean over you and prop himself up with his forearm by your head.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hey there,” you giggle.

“Gonna kiss you again,” he murmurs as he leans in, his plush lips meeting yours in a lovely embrace. As you’re busy licking at his tongue, he rolls his hips against you, and you’re gasping at the warmth of him sliding against your clit.

“Shit,” he gasps into your mouth, “You’re gonna soak me, Honey. You always this wet, or am I doing that good a job?”

“I refuse to inflate your ego even more this evening,” you smile into the kiss.

“Understandable,” he’s smiling too, “I hope you can tell by how fucking hard I am that you’re doing something to me, too,” he grinds fully into you again and you’re whimpering as he licks at your lower lip.

“Jake,” you whine.

“Tell me, Honey, what is it?”

“Just fuck me, please.”

“Mmm,” he hums as his lips press to your cheek, “Gonna fuck you until you can’t remember the bad day you had, or anything else.”

If you say anything coherent, you can’t recall. It’s mostly a desperate groan, begging without words.

He reaches down and eases himself in, and you force your eyes open to watch his expression as he does. His mouth gapes, his eyes roll back. You wish you could watch it a million times.

And god, he’s warm as he stretches you, as his hips roll flush to you. He’s just big enough that it approaches a mild sting, but it’s welcomed. He props his other forearm on the other side of your head, and his hair falls around you, blanketing you in his body heat.

Just when you’re sure his hips are flush to you, he rolls them hard, sending your eyes back into your head.

“You like that, hm?” He shudders, “You feel so damn good.”

You just nod, struggling to keep your eyes open to look at him.

“Baby,” he says, sugar sweet, “Just take it, Honey, you don’t have to do anything else.”

He pulls his hips back and then rolls back into you, and suddenly that sneaking warmth is building in you again.

With his nose, he nuzzles your head to the side. As he begins to work at a slow, deep pace, he sucks gently on your pulse point. Your head is all blurry stars, your eyes rolling back far too often to see anything, and all you can smell is his shampoo and sweat.

You’re not sure if you’re making noise; you don’t think so, it feels like you can barely breathe. But then, Jake says,

“I know, babe, I know, let go.”

And you’re guessing you’ve said something to clue him into the fact that you’re on the precipice of a second orgasm.

With a sturdy roll of his hips, you’re scratching at the soft skin of his sides and drawing a whimper from as you clench around him like a vice, slamming into a somehow even more visceral orgasm than the first.

As it washes over you, you can hear yourself saying his name like a mantra.

“So good,” he’s still fucking slowly into you.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you whine, “Please, Jake, don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop,” he kisses your cheek, “Gonna give it to you til you’re a cock-drunk mess, Honey, don’t worry.”

You shudder off a string of curses at his vulgar response, and you draw him even closer, one hand on his side, and the other wrapping into his hair. He resumes sucking on the side of your neck, something that makes your stomach flutter. He bottoms out over and over at a wonderous pace, somehow each thrust just as good as the last.

“You like this? Slow and deep?” He murmurs the question against your skin and punctuates the question with a lick.

“Yes,” you whimper.

“You wanna cum around me again?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, “Yeah, fucking—please,”

“Take your time, Honey,” he breathes, “I’m not going anywhere. Just gonna fuck and fuck you.”

“Kiss me,” you plead. He answers you quickly, his warm mouth on yours in an instant, warm and fervent. It’s embarrassingly quick, how soon you feel like you can cum again. But you can’t find the shame; he’s working himself perfectly against you.

“Close,” you confess against his lips.

“Good,” his voice is distant, “Let me have it.”

It hits you slow and unhurried, creeping hot vines up your torso and neck, gripping at your cheeks and burning a bolt of pleasure through you. You’re a floating, dizzy version of yourself when you come down.

“Fucking beautiful,” he’s sighing, “Gonna cum, Honey, you feel too good.”

He pulls out and balances on one of his arms as he shoves a hand down around himself. He looks the most beautiful that he ever has, in your opinion, as he cums.

His cheeks are flushed and his brow furrows, and his bitten lips curse softly when he loses it. For a moment he glances down between you, watching as he makes a mess.

You could watch it on repeat forever, and almost lament the moment before it passes.

Finally, he looks up at you. It’s quiet for a second before he grins.

“Hi, Honey,” he smiled wide.

“Hi,” you giggle. He unsticks a piece of his hair from your face as he catches his breath.

“Gonna kiss you again if that’s alright,” he sighs. You nod quickly, and he’s kissing you soft and slow. It’s so tender, you know you probably shouldn’t want it as bad as you do.

He must be on the same page, though, because he just kisses and kisses, licking slowly at your tongue and your teeth.

Some long while later, he comes up for air.

“Let me get my shirt for you,” he says, easing himself off the bed.

He fetches his discarded tee and cleans you with it gently, then wipes himself quickly before he climbs back beside you.

“So,” he breathes, reaching out to skim a finger over your chest, “Why was your day so bad, hm?”

“Jake,” you laugh. You can’t fathom why he’s asking you this right now, and you can’t recall a single thing that happened before the moment he was in your bed.

“What?”

“Tell me about your day. What was it, hm? That got you so frustrated you had to make yourself cum so bad,” he smirks.

“Jake, Jesus Christ,” you blush, “I have no idea anymore, it was just—“

“So it worked?”

You blink at him.

“I fucked you ‘til you forgot?”

If he was trying to make you laugh, it works, as the giggle that escapes you is borderline maniacal. He joins though, laughing lightheartedly beside you.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “Dumb joke.”

As the giggling winds down, the room is quiet. The thought pops into your head with conviction, and it feels only right to say it aloud:

“You know… I wouldn’t be mad if we didn’t forget this tomorrow,” you offer quietly.

He sighs and smiles at you, his eyes sparkly. He looks like himself; like the Jake you know, but closer, and warmer than before.

“I was kinda hoping you would say that.”

fin.

*tag list in progress of being updated*

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

So sorry for this sickening Jake thought. 😭 I’m touch starved and wish I had Jake to cuddle with right about now…..

“Wake up, baby. Come on,” Jake nudges you gently, placing a little kiss to the skin below your ear.

You stir just a little, only humming at him in response, as sleep lingers throughout your body.

“Come onnnn, pretty,” Jake softly calls to you again. “I know you’re hungry by now. Come make some dinner with me, yeah?”

You mumble something incoherent as you force yourself to wake up completely, but you keep your eyes closed, in favor of soaking up Jake’s low, sleepy, raspy voice that’s cooing in your ear.

A low chuckle vibrates through Jake’s chest, an amused sigh leaving his slightly parted lips right after. He leans in, using one hand to cup your jaw and tilt your head slightly, giving him just enough room to begin planting soft, little kisses along your jawline.

“Wake upppp,” Jake drawls, smiling against your skin as you stir and suck in a breath. He knows you’re awake now, simply playing games with him just to keep his attention. “Don’t make me get evil, baby.”

He continues his gentle, playful attack against your jaw and neck. After a few randomly placed kisses, he hits a sweet spot and you know, you’re done for.

A bubbly, but still somewhat quiet giggle burst out of you and a toothy smile tugs at your lips.

“Giggly tonight, are we?” Jake teases. “You wake up from a nice little nap and think everything’s funny now?”

“Jake,” you squeak, trying to pull away from him before he can attack you anymore.

“What?” He mumbles, innocently. Dragging his fingertips along your jawline, just enough to tickle you. “It’s just so, so cute. So precious.”

“Jakeeee!” You squirm in his grip, but part of you has no desire to successfully get away.

“What’s got you so giggly, huh?” Jake taunts, fluttering his fingers against the side of your neck, drinking in your sleepy laughter. “God, you’re so fucking cute.”

[katuschka]

The final chapter of Olalla will be posted tomorrow.

It's going to be a bit much longer than I originally planned, but hopefully not longer than some other chapters I already posted.

Teaser below:

“I DO love you.”

“So what is it then? You don’t believe that I do? How many times do you have to see me crumble?”

“There’s a huge difference between knowing and feeling!” I spat through my teeth and Jake’s eyes widened. 

“You don’t… FEEL that I love you? What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” 

I sighed, feeling like shit again. “It means that every time I need just your understanding, you turn away or get angry! MY FATHER DIED, FOR GOD’S SAKE! And the first thing you say to me in days is asking me why I don’t love you? I don’t want to watch you crumble when I can barely stand!” 

I clasped my hand over my mouth the moment I finished that last sentence. It was the deepest secret that I never meant to say aloud, because I knew very well it wasn’t fair. It was downright mean. Jake had done SO much despite his own demons, and the fact that we found each other at our lowest was our shared curse and burden. 

But… If only he said – just once – that he could understand how I felt, instead of always trying to make me feel better or downplaying my struggles so that he wouldn’t have to feel like a failure, and turning his frustrations against me when it didn’t immediately work. In the end, it always felt like yet another burden I had to carry and it could destroy us even if everything else failed. 

But he did it again. And once again I paid him back in the same coin. 

And now I watched in horror how my words swirled in the dark depths of his eyes like thick black toxic ink, before he turned away and started towards the cabin. Panicking, I snatched at his arm, expecting him to try to break free from my desperate grasp, but he let me stop him. 

He was crying. Genuinely and openly, without blinking or clearing his throat or trying to look away so that I wouldn’t really see. Just letting it go while looking right into my eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that!” I whimpered. 

“You did… and that’s ok. I mean… I’m a fucking mess. You think I didn’t see how he could comfort you with such ease when I just let you cry? He’s always been so good at this…as… as opposed to his asshole brother.”

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96   @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @kiszkas-canvas @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @hollyco @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @blankvz @psychedelectable @allof--mylove @joshylanefleet @thewaythatshebreathes @Ironlotus90 @justwantjosh @stardustsam @livviaaa @irenereedcane-mamagreta

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Blame It on the Mistletoe

On the first day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A jealousy fic with mutual pining and friends to lovers too!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Mistletoe" by Justin Bieber

Trope: Jealousy

~~~

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, semi-public sex, possessive/jealous themes

Words: 5.2k

Author's Note: Let's start with a big one and end with a big one - here's a toast to the start of another 12 Days of Tropemas! 🥂 You can find the Tropemas 2022 masterlist underneath the 'Series' section at the bottom of my pinned Masterlist!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

There were three facts about the night that contributed to bringing you to where you were currently. And where you were just happened to be lip-locked with Danny Wagner in the middle of a corporate party.

Fact #1: You came here as Josh’s plus one.

Fact #2: You were tired of waiting for Josh to give you an indication (literally anything would have sufficed) that he saw you as more than a friend.

Fact #3: Despite it being a major health risk around the talent that had already proven being sick wasn’t going to help anybody, there were plenty of mistletoe sprigs planted in the most inconvenient of places.

Like here, at the end of the bar where you picked up your poison of choice. You were already a couple of Amaretto sours deep, and Josh had gone off to schmooze with an older gentleman that you vaguely recognized as one of the senior sound tech guys, which left you a little lonely, a little bitter, and wanting another drink. So, in the spirit of the open bar, you got one.

And then, long story short, Danny had bumped into you, winked, made a crude joke before pointing up at the decoration in bad taste, and then kissed you.

And you kissed him back, because why the hell wouldn’t you?

It was over all too soon, and he pulled back chuckling, a drunken flush settled high on his cheeks. “Now don’t go falling in love with me,” he warned jokingly, already starting to drift away, back to where he had been listening to an old gramophone with Jake. “I’ve been told I have magic lips!”

Already in a better mood than before, you laughed and shook your head. “Sure you do,” you called back to him, taking a rather long sip from your newly poured drink.

It wasn’t a minute later that Josh wandered up to you, standing closer than he normally did. “Having fun?” he asked lightly, only maintaining eye contact for a second before he looked down to where he was swirling his liquor against the sides of his glass.

You dipped your head with a raise of your brows. “Always,” you said dryly. “Although the bar has been a considerable player in that evaluation.”

Josh mumbled something that you were a little slow to catch; you were settling into a nice buzz, and it was loosening the lock on the box that kept your feelings of insecurity and resentment that developed as a result of you somehow tricking yourself into thinking that Josh would ever see you as more than what you were now.

Just friends.

“You what?” you asked, bringing your ear closer. Josh took a deep breath through his nose, and then looked away.

“Nothing.”

You were glad that perhaps your allusion to not having a good time when he wouldn’t pay you any attention caused him to stick close for a while. You weren’t familiar with the people here, and having Josh to talk to and laugh with, once he loosened up a little bit (which, considering you hadn’t even yelled at him, you weren’t sure why he seemed so uptight in the first place) was a blessing.

But even fun events like these were still work functions, and Josh was pulled into another dull conversation with one of the few journalists that had been invited eventually, leaving your eyes to wander and attention to stray towards something – anything – that would be more fun than listening to Josh tell the same story you’d heard six times over the course of the night.

And, like a beacon of light, you just so happened to catch sight of Sam through the doorway where a live band was playing soft, jazzy Christmas tunes. 

Sam was always a fun time. 

You drifted away from Josh and followed the call of music. “You look a little lonely,” you teased once you got close enough, and Sam tore his eyes away from the band to smile at you. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, moving over so that you could both watch from the center. “Yeah, Mom and Dad just left with Ronnie, but I just really like this song. I wanted to hear it before getting back to work.”

You scoffed at his loose terminology, but listened closely and finally picked out the melancholy melody of I’ll Be Home For Christmas. “It’s a good song,” you agreed. 

Watching the musicians play, you caught the eye of a trombone player, and she smirked from behind her instrument before nodding her head upwards. At first, you thought that it was a part of the showmanship, but then she did it again, even more pronounced, and you looked up.

Mistletoe.

You were already one down on the list, what was the harm in making it two?

“Hey, Sammy, look,” you said, drawing his attention to the same spot. “Give me a little sugar, Sugar.”

He chuckled and hesitated just a bit, brow furrowing, but just as the song ended and you were about to pull away and laugh the rejection off, softly gave you a platonic peck, drawing a small cheer from the band, who cried out that you were couple #4 of the night that had been caught under the lover’s décor.

Sam tilted his head when you looked back at him from laughing along with the band. “Where’s Josh?”

“Here! Sorry, got caught up in a little business. Y/N is just…on a streak tonight, aren’t you?” Josh chuckled tightly, catching you by the hand as he approached from behind. “I can’t let you out of my sight for even one minute, can I?”

You deadpanned. “Doesn’t seem to be a problem for you,” you said petulantly as Josh dragged you away, back towards the party again. “You said this would be a party, but it’s not. This is a black tie event, Josh,” you lamented, trying not to complain but unable to hold it back. “There’s a big difference.”

Josh didn’t look at you. “I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “I know that I didn’t give you a whole lot of details and that it was last minute, but Y/N—” He finally turned on his heel and came face to face with you, eyes softening at your stumble to stop before you collided. “I really do appreciate you coming here with me.”

Were you a little less focused on his features up close, you might have noticed the small amount of emphasis on the last two words that Josh slipped in. But you didn’t. His apology did make you smile a bit, though. “I know,” you sighed, flipping your hair out of your face. “What would you do without me?”

“Waste away in sorrow and boredom,” he assured you, patting you on the arm as you looped it through his. “And, uh, just so you know, you don’t have to kiss everyone you end up under the mistletoe with,” he said quietly, so as not to draw attention amongst the murmurs of conversation.

You shrugged against him. “I know. But it was fun. And I was the one who initiated that one,” you laughed. “It would have been in bad taste to reject him after I told him to.”

Josh didn’t laugh with you. Instead, he steered you around the room for a leisurely stroll - a tour of the paintings that hung for the event.

But, once again, your companionship wasn’t fated to last, and you’d only made half a loop around the perimeter, pointing out funny details in the art fastened to the wall all the while, when a woman locked her eyes on you both and started making a beeline towards you.

“Incoming,” you sighed, ready to let go of Josh’s arm. 

But he didn’t let it go; he tightened his hold, instead. “That’s just one of the studio execs. She’s probably just going to go over a couple of details for next week.”

Josh was wrong, though, and the studio exec grimaced at you apologetically before admitting that Josh had missed a piece of paperwork and needed to come cross his t’s and dot his i’s.

“It’s fine,” you said, waving her silent apology off. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw Jake and Lori mingling over there – I’ll just go join them.” Without much of a second thought about it, the exec stepped away and you again attempted to pull away from Josh, but he caught your arm. 

“Wait.”

You glanced back at him, tilting your head in concern when you saw his jumpy, restless mannerisms. “Are you okay?”

He licked his lips and then let them pop open in a way that had you absolutely entranced. “Can you just…stay here? This won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m just gonna go say hi to Jake and Mrs. Wagner, Josh. I’m not rushing out to my pumpkin now that it’s midnight or anything,” you teased.

“Please, Y/N?” Two minutes, and then I’ll be all yours, I promise. Just stay here for me,” he implored, looking serious as all was.

He wasn’t able to wait for an answer, not with the exec looking back and calling his name when she realized he wasn’t following. His gaze lingered, but he left with her, and you were stuck wondering what his sudden weird behavior was all about.

In the end, you did wait for two minutes. Five, actually, and you knew because you timed it. But it was weird being a loner lingering around some precious art with no one to laugh at it with, so eventually you disregarded Josh’s strange demeanor and sidled up next to Jake and Lori, who were just finishing up laughing about one thing or another.

“Hey guys, mind if I join your ranks?” you asked softly, knowing that the answer would be yes.

Lori’s eyes lit up, and she donned a slightly mischievous smile on her normally sweet-as-pie face that was more fitting of her son than it was on her. “Only,” she said dramatically, a sure sign that Big Dan was out there somewhere completely sober so that his drunk wife would have a safe ride home, “if you give Jakey a little kiss.”

The coincidence of it all. Out of everyone in the band, you’d gotten propositioned (indirectly) by each member except the one you wanted to. “Oh, is that right?” you teased, crooking a brow up at Jake, who rolled his eyes with a small smirk. “Is this a new band initiation thing?”

“No. Lori has been trying to get me to kiss every single person in this room because of the damn mistletoe,” he teased, smiling softly at Lori’s resounding giggle. It was nice to see her having fun.

You looked up, and sure enough, there was a small sprig hanging from a strand on the chandelier. “Well, I’ve managed to get caught under one with both of your little brothers,” you sighed, playing into Lori’s game. “Want to cross off another box on my BINGO sheet?”

“Do it, do it, do it,” Lori chanted gleefully, and Jake sighed overdramatically.

He held out his hand to you, amusement shining in his eyes. He reminded you so much of Josh in these moments, and it sent a rush of affection through you. “Well, if it has to be someone, I suppose you’re probably my best option.”

“Oh gee,” you snarked facetiously, “you really know how to flatter a girl.”

But you went anyway, meeting him in a kiss that was half-smile as Lori did a small happy dance, clapping softly and grinning so wide her eyes scrunched up and disappeared. “Christmas joy!” she cheered, and you broke away giggling.

It really was more reminiscent of the joy you felt when you were around the boys, and you were a little bummed that Josh hadn’t really been around most of the evening, but you had enough good company otherwise that you were beginning not to care.

But not caring was apprently not in the cards for you, since every time you began to settle into a group, Josh would come around and alienate you again. And that's exactly what happened when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“I thought I asked you to wait over there,” Josh whispered into your ear so that the others couldn’t hear him. His fingers were digging slightly into your skin, and it made your stomach flip-flop.

You shrugged. “Got bored.”

He didn’t answer you; instead, he sidled up and wrapped an arm around your waist, something he always did but, in a way that felt different this time. Almost…possessive if you didn’t know any better. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had quite the night, so I’m gonna get the car,” he said with a smile towards his brother and Lori. “Wasn’t expecting so much work this evening. You good to round the other two up?” That was directed purely at Jake.

He’d been the DD for the evening, and since they all had their stuff at Josh’s house, had decided to have an old-fashioned sleepover, putting more finishing touches on the album they were planning on going to the studio for the next week.

He got the confirmation he was looking for and you barely had time to say goodbye before Josh physically pulled you away from them, now grasping your hand as if you’d try to run. “You know, between the freezing cold and the warm party,” you said in confusion, trying to tug your coat on, “I’d much rather be in there. Do you need me to get the car with you?”

It came off slightly pissy, you were aware. But Josh's behavior was confusing and you were sobering up so nothing was as lighthearted anymore. You were out in the parking lot already, though, where you noticed that it had started snowing at some point during the party, and there was a light dusting covering all the cars now. Josh made it to his car without saying anything, but as soon as you hit him lightly to get him to stop ignoring you, he turned around as the car beeped unlocked. 

Josh had never been angry with you. You’d gotten in teasing little spats and had run annoyed with each other, but never bona fide angry. And that’s what Josh looked at the moment.

“I had to get out of there,” he said, an edge in his voice. “Sorry, let me rephrase: I had to get you out of there.”

His bitterness wasn’t lost on you, and standing out in the cold with Josh angry at you wasn't how you’d envisioned the night ending. “Why? What was I doing? And why are you angry all of the sudden?”

He looked at you, disbelief written out comically plain on his face. “All of the sudden?” he said patronizingly, stepping closer to you. “Y/N, I’ve been…god, you don’t even see it, do you?”

“See what?” His vagueness was wearing on you, and you began to shiver. 

“Ever since you decided you wanted to kiss all my fucking brothers right in front of me when I invited you,” he emphasized, growing agitated which, at the proximity you were standing together, made your heart rate pick up a little. “You don’t think that I might be a little bit angry?”

You blinked at him owlishly, eyes wide as you finally realized what he was saying. “You’re…jealous?”

He closed his eyes and ruffled a hand through his hair, muttering, “Hopeless,” before grabbing your waist abruptly and pressing you to his snowy car door. “So incredibly jealous. But I don’t want to have to be jealous anymore, Y/N, and I-- just...stop me if you don't want this, okay?”

It was all he got out before he slammed his lips to yours. He didn’t give you time to think, only react as he pushed forward on all accounts and began to overwhelm your senses.

It was out of character for Josh, this reckless carelessness. In all your daydreams, the first time he kissed you was like him: sweet, gentle, soft, and joyful. Not this erratic culmination of a frustrating night, sloppy and cold and rigid.

But you weren’t pushing him away. The 'erratic culmination of a frustrating night' applied to the both of you and, well, this was certainly a sign that he saw you as more than a friend. And either way - soft and sweet or rough and passionate - you weren’t complaining about the kiss, not when it came to Josh. You were sure it showed in how enthusiastically you kissed him back, pressing your hand to the back of his neck and clutching his coat with your other one, or hopes so, at least. 

To finally get what you wanted after waiting for so long – it was quickly becoming a drug that you didn’t want to stop, but Josh eventually pulled away after a minute.

“Get in the car,” he murmured softly, the demand clear but with room for you to say no.

There was absolutely no hesitation in your actions, though, as you threw the door open and climbed in, immediately crowded against the seat by Josh, who’d slammed the door as soon as his feet cleared it. The way he grasped your thighs and manhandled them apart so that he could slot himself between them had your legs trembling, and you were certain that he felt it.

The action also, however, made your dress ruch up around your hips, exposing your panties and making you intimately aware of the dull pulse that had started when Josh pushed you against the car grow into a full flutter of tightening muscles between your legs.

“Look at you now,” he whispered, hands smoothing up your thighs until his thumbs pressed into the crease where your underwear stopped. “All spread out for…who, Y/N?”

The question caught you off-guard and made you reel back, immediately pushing back at his attempt to get you to submit. “Who the fuck else would I be spread out for?” you snarked breathily, watching in interest as his eyes, cast in shadows from the outside street lamps trying to break through the layer of snow covering you. “The ghost of Christmas past?”

If someone asked you to relay the events that happened next, you’d be unable to recall just how Josh got your panties off without knocking either of you to the floor or losing the moment. But he was just as intense now, staring intently at the burgeoning wetness that he dipped his thumb into before staring you down and bringing the digit to his lips.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I was understanding tonight,” he said quietly, the low noise in the car just adding to the atmosphere. “When you kissed Danny, it was no big deal. A funny little coincidence, I thought.”

“I didn’t go around meaning to kiss your brothers,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Besides, it wasn’t like Josh was around to know that, anyways. He just happened to show up at the wrong times.

He didn’t agree, apparently, and his hand shot up to your throat with a gentle pressure that was only there to warn you. From there, those same fingers slid up to grip your chin. “I wasn’t finished,” he said shortly, molten eyes burning into yours. You were frozen - pitifully turned on at his display of desire and the discrepancy from his usual demeanor (not that you didn’t want to jump his bones either way). “I was a little pissed when you decided to suggest it to Sam; the poor boy was just trying to enjoy the music,” he tsked, and your face burned even though you knew he wasn’t really insinuating anything humiliating.

But it was enough to loosen your lips again. “Sam kissed me back,” you pointed out, expression melting into wanton desire as he leaned down to interrupt you with another kiss.

“I said not another word,” he said into your ear afterwards, right before he straightened up. His hand tore at his belt buckle and snapped it through the loops in a way that had you much wetter than you already had been. “See, even Sam wasn’t such a big deal, because it was mistletoe. But then?” he scoffed, pulling back to rip his fitted dress pants off. Following it up with a blunt drag of his fingers across your clit so that you arched your back and squirmed underneath him, his voice faltered in arousal. “Then you went and kissed my twin brother right in front of me when I asked you so nicely to stay where you fucking were for once. And that–” he chuckled, looking for consent that you gave immediately, if a little breathily, “–that was just the cherry on top.” 

His middle finger slid into you suddenly, slender and tough and skilled. You whined at the sudden intrusion, gripping the bottom of the seat as Josh used his limited space to pump his hand into you. It was quite evident how much your little game had excited you– the wet noises that sounded out when Josh added another one gave you away and seemed louder in the enclosed space of the car.

“Is this what you wanted?” Josh asked, his entire body tense as his forearms flexed with the ‘come hither’ motion he’d begun in fervor. “Kissing my brothers– do you know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but all that escaped was a half cut-off moan, shaking with the rhythm that Josh was making. Each thrust pushed you higher and higher, and you were surprised that the heat wasn’t melting the snow right off his windows.

Josh’s thumb met your clit, and the sensations were enough to make you whine. Against his cloth seats, your dress rode further and further up, until you used one hand to push it down again. It was getting in the way, obscuring your view of where Josh was taking his pleasure in yours, his eyes hooded and watching you – always watching you – while his other hand had brought his cock out to play. Or…for him to play with.

“What, you wanna be shy now?” he drawled, taking his fingers out and fisting his cock, warming it up with your slick before nudging himself between your lips and against your entrance. “Take your tits out, sweet girl. I wanna see them. I am the one you wanna show them to, right?”

“Yes, Josh,” you gasped, bucking your hips to try and slip him inside. It perhaps wasn’t the first time you’d imagined – it was better. It was raw (whoops) and validating in a way you didn’t know you needed after so long of just being the friend. “I want you,” you assured, peeling the stretchier material up until your breasts spilled out, having been tightly bound to you for the entire evening by the dress. It was on the few times you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and it was paying off, just to see Josh’s face drop slack as he drank them in, going so far to turn on an overhead light.

But that caused you to look nervously at the windows. What if someone saw?

As if he could read your mind, Josh ran his hands up your body to cup you and tease your nipples, already pebbled from the cold. “Don’t worry, Y/N, nobody can see through the snow and the tint. I promise.”

The peek of the Josh you knew made your heart clench, and with a pull of his shirt, he attached his lips to yours and guided himself into your body with a groan that echoed in your mouth.

“Oh, god, Josh,” you gasped, face screwing up as he stretched you out. Your toes curled and you clenched your thighs around his hips, fingers digging into his back while you brought him closer to you. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to feel you inside me,” you whispered, and Josh let out a soft moan at that.

“Well, you didn’t have to kiss my brothers to get me to fuck you,” he responded with a distracted grin, once he pulled up enough to brace himself. 

You were about to roll your eyes and object when he finally rolled his hips forward, nudging his cock even deeper into you before pulling out and sheathing himself once again, beginning to fuck you in a rhythm that was short and powerful to match the minimal space he had. 

The way he filled you up was nothing short of euphoric. He lit up the nerves everywhere he touched, and after fantasizing about it all those times, your body seemed to suck Josh in with the intent never to let him go. 

“You’re so wet, Y/N, damn,” Josh panted, eyes hooded and glancing down to where the wet noises of each thrust were coming from. “Kissing Jake didn’t get you all soaked and ready for my cock, right?”

You knew your hair would look like a rat’s nest from how much you were squirming and thrashing your head back and forth against the seats. “No. I didn’t kiss them like I wanted to kiss you.”

Josh’s response was interrupted by his phone ringing, and speak of the devil, Jake’s contact popped up on his screen, and you suddenly remembered where you were and what you’d been doing before Josh decided to give it to you in his back seat. Josh didn’t care, though, and the phone rang out as he upped his efforts and snapped his hips into you as deeply as he could, snaking his fingers down to play with your clit.

Your back arched at the stimulation, and any comment you had was preceded with a whine. “Josh, we’re supposed to pick up your brothers.”

Josh hauled you up, and you repositioned with him, letting him plant his feet on the ground as you straddled him with your breasts in his face. If anything, the change made him care even less about what he was supposed to be doing.

“I don’t care,” he chuckled breathlessly, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he grunted and shoved his hips up into you. 

You were fast approaching your high, quicker than usual, and Josh was doing everything he could to get you there, it seemed: angling his hips, mouthing over your tits, and still slipping those damn fingers around your clit and where he was still moving inside of you. “They might come looking for us,” you said, your hips twitching and bearing down to help get him to where you wanted. 

“Let them,” Josh grunted again. “You made me watch you kiss them, they can watch me fuck you. Fair trade.”

You would have laughed if you weren’t working your hips like a bitch in heat, desperately climbing a ladder upward, but not fast enough. You knew Josh was joking, but he seemed hell-bent on keeping up the narrative just for shits and giggles, and you wondered if it was part of his punishment when his fingers stopped dancing around your bundle of nerves. 

You saw him wipe his hand on the seat, and that distracted you enough that when he leaned forward, you were pitched with him, which forced you to wrap yourself around him even more as he desperately grasped the seat in front of him and used it to anchor himself as his rhythm faltered and all he could do was recklessly push his hips into you, deep and hard and without much finesse anymore.

Your noises grew in frequency and volume; you were right there, all it would take would be a couple more thrusts at this exact angle and— and—-

“I’m cumming!” you sobbed into Josh’s neck, jolting with each powerful thrust into you.

Feeling you cum around him, Josh groaned and pitched up once more, and then warmth exploded inside you. He hugged you to him as he leaned back against the seats to catch his breath, and you whimpered as he shifted in you. 

“Was that better than kissing my brothers?” he asked jokingly, stroking your hair with one hand while the other drew lines up your bare back. 

Now that you were cooling down, you felt the consequence of not turning the heat on, and the sweat on your body quickly made you shiver, so Josh grabbed his coat and covered you while you nodded. “Josh,” you deadpanned, “If you have to ask that question, you need to gain a little more confidence in your abilities.”

He snorted as his phone went off again. “Ah, shit. They really are going to come looking for us soon if we don’t…” He trailed off, obviously not wanting to leave the warmth of your body, or give off the impression that he wasn’t going to participate in any aftercare at all, but you hadn’t exactly picked the perfect time and place for that, so you understood.

“It’s fine. Just…bring me back to yours and make me hot chocolate, and we’ll call it even.”

Josh looked scandalized, and he vigorously shook his head in dissent. “Uh-uh. You’re getting more than hot chocolate– who have you been fucking that your standards are so low?” You smiled, but as soon as you opened your mouth, Josh’s face scrunched up and he kissed you to interrupt. “Actually, don’t answer that. That’s gonna change when we get back to my house,” he promised, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “I’ll show you as many times as you want,” he grinned, finally dislodging himself as he waited for you to get off his lap. 

You colored as you found and pulled up your panties as quickly as you could, not wanting to drip in Josh’s car. “I…might just take you up on that,” you said quietly, watching for Josh’s reaction.

His features softened and he smiled, which was a little off-putting since he was tucking his dick away simultaneously, then wiped his hand again on his nice, cloth seats. He must have seen your expression, because he cocked his head. “What?” he queried, moving to get out of the backseat.

“You just…wiped my cum on your seats,” you laughed. “Your brothers are going to have to sit back here, and they might–”

Josh tugged you out of the seat and pressed you up against the side of the car for the second time that night. “What? Feel you? Smell you? I bet their mouths would water,” he murmured lasciviously. “But I don’t care.”

You blushed but chuckled lightly. “You know, for someone who made such a big deal about me kissing his brothers, you’re sure making a 180 here with all the 'not caring'.”

“You wanna know why I don’t care, then?” he asked, lips by your ear as he fished for his keys. 

“Enlighten me.”

“Because those are my seats, and I made you cum in my car. If that’s where I have available to clean your sweet slick off my fingers every fucking time I touch you from now on, so be it—“ and that was a promise if you’d ever heard one, one that had you squirming and refocusing on the desire you held for Josh, tucked away and safe in your body, “—and my brothers will know that there’ll be no more of this mistletoe shit.”

You ran your tongue across the roof of your mouth, ducking under Josh’s arm to escape the newly-grown tension and into the front passenger seat. You wouldn’t be held liable for anything that transpired when he was talking like that and making vows that sounded a lot like a commitment— at the very least, like this would happen again, maybe even several times.

“Watch out, Josh,” you sang playfully, catching his gaze at your ass before you disappeared around the back of the car. You reconvened inside, this time fully dressed and going to pick up his brothers for real this time. “Your jealousy is showing.”

~~~

Taglist:

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Bless Your Little Heart

A/N: Phew, so this is actually the first time I’ve put fan fic out, I’ve always made little blurbs here and there in my notes app but never sat down and wrote one to post. Go easy on me, I’m learning! (Also this is kinda long oops). Also this is actually inspired by lyrics from “Bless Your Little Heart” by The Velveteers! So enjoy!

Pairing: f!reader x Jake Kiszka

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI, mentions of alcohol consumption & drug use, break up, unprotected sex, jealousy, mentions of toxic relationships, smut, penetrative sex, oral (f! &m! receiving), strong language, mentions of a break-up, name calling, spit play, degradation, hair pulling, choking, slapping, blood (barely), dom!Jake. (I think that’s all)...

Bless your little heart…

Waking up from your nap, you look at your phone to see a text from your best friend inviting you to a party tonight. You groaned and threw your phone to the other side of the bed, leaving her on read. On any other Friday night, you’d already be halfway done with your makeup, with your hair done, and your hottest outfit on, starting to pregame for the weekend activities. Except this week was different, you were single. For the first time in a long time, you were completely single. You had been with your ex-boyfriend for awhile, a toxic relationship that was now over. One day you were in love, and the next it seemed like you were at each other's throats all the time. 

The final straw was last Saturday, you got into a huge argument when Jake had seen you talking to another guy at a bonfire. To say he lost it, would be an understatement. He ended things with you right there, and left. This was different from the other arguments and fights though. Jake always would come around and call you or pull up to your apartment to figure things out or half-ass apologize. But this time, your phone never rang, and the apology was nowhere to be found. Instead, you got blurry pictures from your friends about Jake out with another girl; his arms around her waist, his tongue down her throat. 

Devastated and angry, you hadn’t left your room since. You had barely even spoken to anyone. So it was fair to say, the party invitation was going to be a firm pass. Happy with this decision, you picked up the T.V. remote to scan through Netflix and find something to watch. Five minutes later, you were comfy, watching Gilmore Girls, and snacking on pretzels when your phone started buzzing from the corner of the bed where you had thrown it. Maybe if you ignore it long enough, they’ll leave you alone…right? 

On the third call you finally sighed and picked up the phone to see your best friend Kate calling you. Your finger hovered over the green button trying to decide whether you wanted to deal with this right now. Maybe it was an emergency? Ugh. Fine.

“PLEASE tell me you aren’t still in bed.”

“Fine, I won’t.”

“Y/N you need to get up. You need to get your sorry ass out of bed, it’s been days.”

“I’ve left my bed plenty?” 

“Bathroom & snack breaks don’t count.”

“Ok fine, then maybe I haven’t so what?”“Come to the party tonight, I’ll drive so you can drink your sorrows away.”

“Kate, really I don’t want to go. I’m bad company, you wouldn’t want me there.”

“But I do, and you’re going. Jake & that bitch Maddie will be there.”

“Ok so I DEFINITELY don’t want to go then, why would I want to see them?”

“Because you’re going to put on your sluttiest outfit and that red lipstick that used to drive him up the wall, take a few shots of tequila for confidence, and find the hottest guy in the room and get yourself back in the game.”

“I’m not sure that’s my favorite idea.”

“Well too bad, I’ll be there in 45 minutes to pick you up.” *click*

So now here you are, hair done, makeup done, and dressed in the sexiest outfit you could find. You know you previously said you hated this idea, but to be honest you’ve  come around to it. After slipping into a skin tight black mini dress that cut deliciously low to show off your plump breasts, and swiping on a deep red lipstick…You actually felt good. Your curves accentuated in all the right places, this outfit was dangerous. You felt hot, sexy, and out for blood. As you put my gold earrings in and slipped on your shoes, you  heard Kate’s car pulling up and headed outside. 

Pulling up to the Wagner house, you realized you might be in over your head. There were way too many people here. Luckily, Kate delivered on the tequila she promised; handing you a bottle and demanding you take a sip. Three tequila shots should do it right? Let’s hope.

Walking through the doors you recognized the normal crowd, most people already drunk or high. The music loud, and the bass so heavy you could feel it in your bones at points. You and Kate pushed through the crowd to find the rest of our group, and as we did you found your traitorous eyes darting around looking for that familiar brown mop of hair, and those deep brown eyes that could turn you into a puddle. When you didn’t find him, you felt a wave of relief. Maybe he wasn’t here. Walking up to your friends, you fell into casual conversation. Slowly, you could feel the tequila sneaking up on you. 

After a few minutes, Kate asked if you wanted another shot. Why not right? Fuck it. After the shot, you felt loose. Euphoric even. You grabbed Kate and dragged her towards the dance floor. Feeling the music you slipped into the rhythm, grinding your body against Kate’s and just having fun. You weren’t paying much attention but you could feel eyes on you. Looking up you made eye contact with him. He was leaning against the wall across the room, Maddie pressed up against him so all you could see was her extremely short dress and long blonde hair. His hands trailed down her back, making their way towards her ass. His hair was slightly disheveled, wearing a maroon button up shirt that was completely unbuttoned, his tan skin was gleaming, begging to be touched. Shaking the thoughts from your head, your eyes came back up to meet his. You could practically see the heat in his gaze, and if you couldn’t you could certainly see it in his smug smirk. Looking over your shoulder you realized Kate had started to dance with another guy you recognized, Danny. On the other side of you, you could see Sammy. 

Sammy was Jake’s younger brother, but he was also a friend of yours. Sammy was always good looking in an effortless way that made girls drool, but he wasn’t Jake. Reaching your arm out you grabbed onto Sammy and pulled him closer to you. To your surprise, he came up behind you with no hesitation. Locking eyes with Jake, you started to dance with Sammy. Immediately the smirk from Jake’s face dropped. Smiling at the win, you turned to face Sammy and took the opportunity to get even closer. Your chest completely flush with his. He smiled down at you and allowed you to have complete control of this encounter. You grinded with Sammy, allowing your faces to be a mere inches away, giggling and whispering flirtatious comments in his ear. 

You continued this way for a few songs until you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, yanking you towards someone else. You whipped your head around to find Jake, pressed against you, his hands on your lower back now & holding you in place. You started to pull away when you realized you could play this game. Maybe it was the tequila talking but you could play, and you could play it better. 

“A shame you pulled me from Sammy, I heard he's a good lay.”

“My brother couldn’t handle you.”

“I mean if he’s anything like you then you may be right.”

A smile played on his lips, and the heat in his gaze grew. You knew you were treading dark waters playing this game. 

“You put on quite the show for me with him though, might as well have blown me a kiss to make it a little more obvious Y/N.”

“Bless your little heart, you think that was for you? No, I just have always wanted to know how Sammy would feel pressed against me.”

“Oh come on, you know you can’t resist me. You never could.”

“Mhm, where’s your little plaything?”“Maddie? She went home, why? Up for a little three way fun Y/N?” 

Disgust clouded your mind thinking of having to share Jake, thinking about another woman’s hands all over the places you’ve claimed a hundred times now. Hiding your disgust, you jumped back into your little game.

“It’s really such a shame you love to hate me Jakey.” You said as you turned to finally face him, making a show of pressing yourself against him. You could see the bulge in his jeans, not fully hard but you could see he was turned on from your banter. Jake wedged his leg between yours so you could feel his thigh pressed against your core. You gasped a little at the sudden contact, desire glazing over your eyes as you looked back up at him. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were also turned on by this little game you were both playing. Lost in thought, you didn’t feel Jake’s hand inching towards your neck. His hand coming around and getting lost in your hair, he grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged you back. Leaving your neck exposed he brought his face close and you could feel his breath on your bare skin. His eyes hooded with lust as he took his time scanning your face. 

“You look like a whore tonight.”“You don’t mean that Jakey, I see the way you’ve been looking at me.”

“And how have I been looking at you?”

“Like you want to eat me alive. Like you want to smear this pretty red lipstick I have on. Like you want to rip this dress off me with your teeth.”

Jake gulped and you swore his eyes rolled back a little. God, revenge was so good. You were finally winning, finally had the upper hand. Feeling downright cocky, you kept pushing.

“Such a shame I’m not yours to take though. You weren’t a half-bad fuck.”

No sooner than the words left your mouth, Jake’s eyes snapped open. His expression immediately changed to anger. He spun you around and grabbed your wrist pulling you up the staircase. His grip on you is a little too harsh to be a joke.

“Jake let go of me. Where are you even going?”

“Shut the fuck up Y/N.”

“You're hurting my wrist Jake let me go.”

He shoved you into a room you recognized as Danny’s guest room. He pushed you past the door and slammed it shut. He turned around to lock the door while you stood there dumbfounded. He spun around, his hand flying to your face and clutching your jaw. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are Y/N? Hm? You’re nobody.”“Funny. I was someone to you a week ago.”

“Well now you’re nothing but a bratty bitch.”

The words barely registered with you before his lips were on yours, kissing you fiercely. He backed you towards the bed, your mind going a million miles a minute. You did not see the game going down the path of a hate fuck, but you were eager to play anyways. Pulling you from your thoughts you felt a hand press onto your chest and shove you on to the bed. Jake standing over you at the edge of the bed with a violent sparkle in his eyes. He finally leaned down, nipping at your lips hard enough to draw blood. You spat at him, blood and all. 

“Oh Y/N, that wasn’t the move to make darling.” He said with a smile.

 “Are you gonna be a good little slut and let me fuck you, baby?” he taunted. 

You mulled over his words, wanting to spit in his face again but the dripping heat and throbbing between your legs told a completely different story. Jake had a strong hand gripping your jaw in a firm hold, forcing you to look up at him, his face had the same smug expression that made you want to slap it off of him.

 “Answer me Y/N. Quickly.”

 His firm body pressing into yours, pinning yours to the bed You tore his hand away from your face and gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling his face into yours.  

“You better watch your fucking mouth. Now, fuck me or fuck off, Jacob,” you seethed through clenched teeth.

“Oh in time, but until then, consider this punishment.”

Harshly, one of his hands pushing into your panties.

 “Oh, and what do we have here?” 

He stood back up, his hand wrapping around your neck, holding you in place as he stood over you and pushed the dress up to expose your lower half.. His rough and calloused fingers brushed over your soaked thong, pushing past the fabric and claiming his prize, by collecting as much slick as he can before pulling them out of your panties. He slowly brought his drenched fingers to your face, showing you just how wet you are. 

“You’re awfully wet for someone who was, what did you say? Oh not a half bad fuck.”

Jake takes his fingers and puts them at the entrance of your mouth, slowly you part your lips as you look up at him. Trying to maintain eye contact and a soft moan escapes as he pushes the fingers past your lips into your throat. This time you let out a whimper that is muffled by the fingers buried up to the knuckles in your mouth. No matter how hard you press your tongue against the intrusive digits, Jake merely applied more pressure to the slick muscle, shoving his fingers even further until you audibly gagged around them. Your spit coats the length of his fingers and the slender digits slip and slide against one another as he pumps them into your open mouth. A flood of drool dribbles down your chin as your jaw hangs open and a thin stream begins to trickle across Jake’s wrist. You watched Jake’s eyes follow the stream as he removed his fingers slowly from your mouth.

“Now look at the mess you’ve made…” You sat breathless on the bed still, half-naked and while you should feel embarrassed or ashamed of your current state; you were the opposite. You were thrilled, this kind of foreplay was pleasurable for you both. You enjoyed a rough fuck, and you knew Jake did too. As you went to reach for Jake, aching to feel his skin on yours, he backed away.

“What are you doing?”

“Tonights not about you Y/N, you pissed me off. You’re gonna pay that price now.”

You opened your mouth to speak, when Jake placed a hand on the back of your neck, fisting into your hair, pulling you towards him, and suddenly you were kissing him again. His tongue sliding into your mouth, keeping his left hand with a death grip on your hair, he slowly moved his right hand up to cup your breasts. You arched into the touch, whimpering into his mouth.

“So this is the secret to getting you to shut the fuck up.” He smirked into the kiss. 

“Everytime you open that pretty mouth, you ruin the mood.”

You tried to sound unaffected, but Jake could tell from the soft moans escaping your already swollen lips, that you meant nothing of the sort; you wanted more. Absolutely needed more. He pulled down the top of your dress, that could barely be called a dress now that it was just black fabric bunched at your waist. Your breasts bounced out from the top of the dress and Jake immediately was all over them. Biting and leaving his mark anywhere he could. Slowly one of your hands snuck into his hair, close to the base of his ears, tugging on it with heavy force; the action rewarding you with a pleasured grunt as he sucked more deep purple bruises on your chest. 

“I’m getting impatient Ja-” you moan, clenching your thighs together as he presses his face to your chest again. 

“Should I stop?” he asks, tracing a finger over one of the many bruises he’s left against your skin. “Everyone should know you’re taken.” he breathed.

Jake’s tongue drags along your skin as he sinks down between your thighs, spreading them open and staring admiringly at your dripping cunt. He leans forward, his head now settled between your legs, kissing and sucking at your inner thighs. You hold them open wide for him, pussy clenching at his proximity. “Sir, please,” you whimper as you feel his hot breath ghost your core. 

“Oh now we’re begging? I thought I wasn’t that good. Tell me how bad I am at this Y/N.”

“I-...I can’t. God I can’t.”

you stumble out, as you let out a gasp when his tongue licks your folds as his nearly black eyes, rimmed with revenge and desire, lock with your own. He’s teasing you, slowly, and he smirks again up at you. His hand was on your right hip, holding you tight (and God, he was strong) as he spreads you open and lapped at you with deadly focus, spinning you stupid at an alarming pace. Jake’s fingers are now dancing along the fullest part of your hip. He locks eyes with you again as he slips two fingers into you causing your hips to buck wildly into him, your hands reaching to grip onto anything you can. He chuckled against the wet mess he had already made of you, making your back arch from the sensitive chill as he put his mouth right above where his fingers were already causing the heat to stir in your stomach. His suctioning mouth pulled back, releasing your soft skin. Spreading your folds again with his tongue, he slowly licked up and down, before swirling his tongue around your clit, earning him a gasp and a tug of his long brown hair. He let his lips wrap around your sensitive nub, suckling at it gently - reeling from your soft moans.

“Fuck, Jacob, don’t… don’t stop… I’m so fucking close” you whimpered, before one last swipe of Jacob’s tongue had you so close to falling apart against his mouth. Looking down at him, his chin glistening with your arousal, you watched the smirk form across his face as he pulled back.

“Did you think I was going to let you cum Y/N?” His eyes were dark with a playful evil.

“On your knees, now.” 

You looked up at him ready to protest when you felt his fingers coming to fist around your hair, yanking you up only to tug you onto the floor in front of him.

Your knees make contact with the cold wooden floor and you settle there between his legs. Your cunt throbs when your hands come together at the base of his cock, thumbs and pointer fingers trying to wrap around his girth. He's too thick for even both hands. You swallow down a moan when you feel him twitch.

“Stare later Y/N, put it in your mouth.”

You sit back on your ankles, head bowing to meet the tip of his hanging cock. All the muscles in his body tense and he hisses when you open your mouth and your tongue slides under his shaft. Keeping his hands in your hair he grasps the back of your head, jutting his hips forward so that his dick pushes past your lips, a little groan escaping your throat as he keeps pushing himself deeper into your open mouth. You groan, eyes squeezing shut as you adjust to his size. He's caught off guard when you nibble down on him a little bit. One hand leaves his shaft to reach down and cup his balls. You squeeze them gently and you feel the top half of his body hunch over. His fingers dig into your scalp with unbelievable pressure. The sound of you starting to gag seems to spur Jake on because he starts fucking your mouth faster. His movements start to become erratic as he approaches his orgasm. His breathing is heavy and labored. The hand tangled in your wet hair tightens even more and holds you steady. And you could feel him shaking, his grips on your head weakening as his fingers tugged at your roots. He was getting so close, but before you could feel him release down your throat he pulled away, your brows furrowing in confusion as you looked up at him. 

“Up, on the bed.” Shakily standing up, feeling the sting of the carpet on your knees as you winced a little. 

“Who do you think you’re bossing around Jake, I’m not a ragdoll.”

“Tonight you are, you’re a little slut of a ragdoll.” He whispered, leaning closer to your ear. You could feel the heat of his breath ghosting the shell of your ear. His breath burns every inch of your skin, instantly causing the pool of wetness in between your thighs to collect again. 

“Now, get on the fucking bed and maybe I’ll consider letting you get even slightly close to cumming tonight.”

Part of you wants to retort but the thought of him leaving the room with all your pent up sexual arousal stings more than you’d like to admit. So you lean back, lowering yourself onto the bed behind you. Your scowl and eyes remain trained on him as he watches you.

“Spread your legs, present yourself to me like the slut you are.”

He watches your pretty legs spread wide open, small tiny red bites spread over your soft thighs from where his brutal mouth was, your exposed breasts in all your glory, your perky nipples hard, and the dress he had hastily pulled down and up is now resting against your hips. 

“F-Fuck get inside of me already.” 

“beg.” Jake sighs as he stares down at you, legs open and ready.

“fuck you Jake.” 

“You’re about to babe.”

He fists himself as he closes the distance between you two and bumps his tip against your clit making you want to cry, you’re so fucking wet for him. 

“Enough teas-” he cuts your thoughts short by plunging deep inside of you and grabbing your hips, raising you up to meet his own. He pulled out just as fast as he entered you, pulling back for a torturous second before thrusting all the way in, and it made your breath falter, the way he filled you up so completely and fully.

“Say it, Y/N. No one compares to me. I’m the best you’ve ever had. Sammy could never fuck you like this”

Your eyes widened as you met his dead serious stare, heated eyes lasered in on your own in return. Waiting to hear your response. There was no way he didn’t already know, and you certainly didn’t need to feed his ego by moaning about it. The way he was stretching you out was near criminal, some kind of sweet agony that pulled a breathy whimper from your traitorous lips. 

“Say. It. Now. If. You. Want. To. Cum.” every word punctuated by a hard thrust, causing tears to form in your eyes. His pace was brutal and relentless, he was burying himself deep in you, damn near feeling it in your stomach. 

“Jake,” you muttered as his hand came up to spread across your throat, his thumb against your collarbone as he nudged your knees a little farther apart. You arched into him as he cups your breast, teasing your nipple with his calloused fingers.

“You’re the best. No one compares.” You breathed, a devilish grin forming on his lips, but you weren’t finished.

“I’ll fuck Sammy too, and let you know how he performs.” you replied with a smug grin of your own.

With this reply you were met with a heavy smack on the side of your thigh causing a moan to escape your lips. You locked your legs around him, and let your nails trail down his back, not caring if it hurt. He bites your nipple and you squeal as pleasure and pain mixed delightfully inside you. You love spurring on an angry Jake, it makes for euphoric sex and that’s exactly what you’re getting.

“Y/N, if you mention my brother again you won’t cum and that’s a promise. So shut the fuck up and take all of this.”

“Look at you, how pathetic, Y/N,” Jake says as you whine and whimper when he swipes his thumb over your swollen clit. “I know you are slut for my cock.” he grins, looking at you, spread wide on his bed. “How does it feel to have my dick inside? Mine. No one else's.”

His gravelly voice sounds intoxicating as he whispers to you in the darkness, you feel absolutely drunk off the way he’s fucking you. “It feels so good Jake, don’t stop.” 

He keeps fucking hard and fast. His hand on your waist trails down to your heat, sliding to your clit. His fingers begin circling the nub in rhythm with his hips. You let out a moan, “Fuck, fuck, Jake.” You feel the warmth in your core starting to unravel, getting closer to your release. 

Jake keeps his brutal pace, absolutely pounding into you and he’s not showing any signs of slowing down. “Y/N I’m gonna fill you up.” Those simple words tearing the most pornographic moan from your throat. His fingers on your clit start rubbing faster as his breathing starts to grow ragged, his hips starting to stutter as he gets closer to his orgasm. Your walls tighten around him and he hisses. The white heat inside you grows and soon you feel it flowing over.

“Come for me Y/N, give it to me, cum all over my cock.” 

He doesn’t have to wait long before you’re absolutely shaking, eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he pins your hips to the bed and pours into you. His hips stutter as your back arches off the bed, your walls clenching around his dick. 

Slowly, Jake pulls out of you leaving you empty and cold. He backs up and stares at you, limp and breathing like a mad woman, still sprawled on the bed. Almost as if he’s admiring a piece of artwork in a museum. 

“Filthy, you look absolutely filthy Y/N. Look at you, my cum leaking out of your dripping cunt. It’s a sight truly.”

Speechless, you just stare at him. That devilish grin you love appearing on his face. You watch him as he begins to redress. After putting his pants back on, he reaches down and grabs your still soaked thong and puts it in your pocket. Before you can question it, he’s already reaching for the door handle and turning towards you.

“I’ll hold on to these, maybe if you behave for the rest of the party you can come back to my place to get them back. See you out there.”

With a wink, he was gone. Disappearing into the dim light of the hallway and shutting the door behind him leaving you on the bed, naked and exposed. But you’ve never been more turned on in your life. The only thought in your head being, to find Sammy for another dance. 

[whollyfree]

The One Where Everyone Finds Out

Summary – You and jake decide to keep your relationship a secret, but the two of you aren’t as subtle as you thought you were

Pairings – Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count – 3.2k

Warnings – allusions to sex, teeny bit of violence if you squint, mentions of alcohol

Waking up next to Jake was an unfortunately rare occurrence for you as of late. With how chaotic and non stop his touring schedule had been the past month or so, you were unable to see him as much as you wanted.

Sneaking around was the hardest though. Upon becoming friends with Jake as well as his brothers and Danny, you and Jake hit it off instantly. You began dating just a few months prior, and the two of you enjoyed the privacy of your relationship; just the two of you.

When you did have moments alone, it was nothing short of perfect. The two of you were extremely happy in the relationship; happier than either of you had been in your entire lives. That’s why waking up next to your boyfriend was the most special.

So when you woke up in Jake’s bed, where he had demanded you be the night prior when he returned home from being away on tour, you expected him to be still asleep next to you. Considering how late he got in the previous night, you automatically assumed he would still be dozed off. 

You loved when he was able to sleep in, especially with him cuddled into you; his head would be nuzzled into your neck as his arm was wrapped loosely around you. You knew with the constant traveling and performing, he was bound to be exhausted. He looked all the more refreshed and relaxed sleeping within the comfort of his home. Your heart ached when you realized you weren’t awoken with the view of his chestnut waves splayed across the pillow as his chest rose and fell with even breaths in a peaceful sleep.

Your brows furrowed in exhaustion and confusion that he was missing as you flipped the duvet off of you, your feet hitting the cold wooden floor before throwing on one of Jake’s old crewnecks. It didn’t matter how long ago he had worn it, it still smelled like him and you smiled as you inhaled the familiar scent. 

You padded down the stairs then, huddling yourself together due to the cold temperature of his house. He always kept it freezing in there.

“Jake, you better not be up…writing,” your voice that was once loud enough for the whole house to hear dropped immediately once you saw him sitting in the chair. 

“Him” also known as Danny Wagner was seated on Jake’s sectional in the living room. All of the color drained from your face and your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He looked just as shocked to see you initially, but a smirk soon crept up on his lips.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He leans back further into the couch as his eyebrow lifted cockily.

You sputtered out a breath. “Well, the same thing as you are obviously.”

“Really?” He asks, his voice laced with faux sarcasm. “You’re here to borrow one of his guitars too?”

You looked up at the ceiling and back down to him. “Yeah, there’s no good lie I can come up with here, is there?” 

Danny shook his head, his lips tucked as a chuckle threatened to escape him. “So this is why you’ve been so smiley and giddy for the past few weeks, huh?”

“Weeks?” Jake’s voice is heard as he enters the living room, one of his guitar cases in hand as he walks toward you both. “Try 2 months, Daniel.”

Now that Danny had caught you, Jake wasn’t concerned with keeping the secret you two had from him any longer.

“Oh shit,” Danny leans upward. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Jake response was curt. “So, do you want the guitar or not?” This was him politely attempting to kick his friend out of the house so that he could take you back to bed and really show you how much he missed you on this one day they had off.

“Oh yeah,” Danny stands up and takes the guitar case from Jake’s hands. “I’ll leave you two to, uh, write…”

Jake scoffs, but his tone becomes more serious. “One scratch on this baby and it’s your life, Wagner.”

Danny chuckles. “Right.”

“Hey, Danny,” you cross your arms over your chest. “Can you please not say anything?”

Danny nearly hesitated, feeling uneasy being the only one to keep a secret this big from the rest of the group, but nodded anyway. He said his goodbyes and left, guitar in hand.

As soon as the door closed, Jake made his way to you. Your eyes were on him, but your head was anywhere but Jake's living room. You felt guilty asking Danny for keeping this secret, but you weren’t ready to leave the seclusion of just you and Jake.

“Hey,” his voice brings you back down to earth and you look up at him. “You know I’m ready to tell them whenever you are. And I don’t mind keeping this a secret for as long as you want to. I want to do everything on your terms.”

“I know,” you smile as his arms reach to pull you into him. “I just don’t want to leave our happy little bubble of just us yet.”

Jake chuckles from above you. “Just us and Danny.”

You swatted his chest and he laughed even harder before you turned around to run up the stairs and away from him. He caught you quickly though, catching up to you as he wrapped his arms around your stomach and pulled you back into him. He peppered kisses all over your face as you giggled, relaxing into his touch and leaning back into him. He took this as an opportunity to press a kiss to your neck, and the tone suddenly became more serious.

“It’s kinda hot, right?” He asks lowly into your ear and you smirk away from his view. You hum in agreement, turning back around to face him as you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your lips then and you welcome them instantly. 

“Back to bed?” Jake asks in between a breath after the kiss grew more passionate. You hummed into his lips, pulling him by the waistband of his sweatpants and back up the stairs.

-

A few days after Jake and the rest of the band returned from tour for good, the four boys invited you to have a night out with them. You obliged, of course, excited to reunite with the four of them. While you were ecstatic to spend more time with Jake, worry loomed through your mind the more you thought about the night ahead of you. The combination of him, alcohol, and the other boys had the possibility of not being a good mix.

Nevertheless, you slipped on your black miniskirt and a tank top with a pair of boots and made your way to the bar that the five of you frequented. 

The night had been going seemingly well so far. Josh was about 3 beers in while Danny had just finished his second. This was the first time you had seen Danny since the incident at Jake’s house, and with the way he was shaking his leg under the table, you could tell this secret was weighing on him.

Sammy was halfway through his second tequila-infused drink; a girl he was dating for the time being was latched to his arm the whole night. The sight of them made you a bit sad, wanting to be able to touch Jake freely in front of his brothers and share your relationship with the world.

You and Jake were about 3 tequila sodas in and fighting the urge to keep your hands off one another as you sat side by side in the booth. There were a few times he placed his hand on your thigh as a force of habit, but quickly pulled it away once he realized what he was doing. 

The next time he did it, you placed your hand on top of his before he pulled away. You looked over at him as a smile plays on his lips, looking down at the table before tapping back into a conversation with Sam. You almost regretted keeping his hand there as he slid his palm higher on your thigh.

Your breath hitched and you reached for your drink that you placed on the napkin coaster in front of you. You were hoping Sammy didn’t notice as he made eye contact with you, but you brushed it off quickly and looked back down toward your drink.

Bringing the straw to your lips, Jake slipped his hand inward and traced over your underwear with his pinky lightly. All too lightly.

You chugged your drink through the straw before it began making that god-awful sound, indicating that your glass was now empty. Jake kept his hand in between your thighs, moving it over slightly to press his middle finger against your heat to apply more pressure as he calmly carried on his conversation with his younger brother.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you blurted out, your cheeks flushing instantly at your sudden outburst before standing up.

“Don’t fall in,” Josh joked with you, cackling at his own joke before taking another sip of his beer.

You hurried off to the disgusting bar bathroom, desperate to get rid of the blush on your cheeks and the new fire between your thighs. You locked the door behind you and bring yourself to the mirror. Through your tipsy state, you really couldn’t tell if you looked as flustered as you felt.

It wasn’t long before you hear a knock on the door.

“Someone’s in here!” You call out, sighing as you tried to fix your hair in the mirror.

“I know,” Jake’s voice sounded through the door, and you smiled before opening the bathroom door for him. He hurriedly pressed his lips to yours, pinning you against the bathroom sink. You reached one hand behind you to keep your back from pressing into the edge and gripped the roots of his hair with the other. He moaned into your mouth and you smiled, wrapping your leg around his hip.

Jake grips one of your hips with one hand, and reaches to grab the thigh around his waist with the other. He then pressed his groin to your center, already hard and ready for you.

“Wanna get out of here?” He pulls his lips from yours to ask.

“Please,” you all but whine out and he nods, pulling his body from yours. 

He gives you a moment to smooth your clothes over, reaching his hands out to fix your hair. As soon as he pulls the door open, you’re both met with Sam, an all-too-knowing smirk on his face. Your face goes beet red and you can’t believe it’s been less than a month since you were caught red-handed by Danny.

You don’t have to see Jake’s face to know he’s as pale as a ghost. “Y/N, sh-she got sick and-”

“Oh, shut up,” Sam laughs loudly, and you’re suddenly all too aware that everyone was still in the bar. “You two aren’t fooling anyone.”

“Josh knows?” Your heart races and you’re not too sure you’re ready to hear his answer.

Sam scoffs. “Are you kidding me? That fucker is three sheets to the wind.” You let out a sigh of relief and you feel Jake's tenseness dissipate in front of you. 

Jake clears his throat before he begins to speak. “Listen, Sam-”

“Relax,” Sam waves a hand in front of the two of you. “I’m not gonna say anything about your forbidden love affair.” He makes a dramatic gesture with his hands and rolls his eyes.

“Thanks, Sammy,” you offer him a smile and plant a kiss to his cheek as the two of you exit the bathroom. He mutters a “yeah, yeah, yeah” before you and Jake excuse yourselves from your friends and out of the bar. You got really sick, after all.

-

“Why the fuck is Jake not answering?” Josh nearly had steam blowing out of his ears as he threw the phone on the couch. “He was supposed to be here 45 minutes ago!”

Josh, Danny, and Sammy were all at the studio, prepared to get some work done on their upcoming album. The release date was coming up a lot sooner than they’d like, and it was quickly becoming crunch time for the four boys. Jake, however, was exactly where Danny and Sam assumed he would be: with you.

With the progression of you and Jake’s relationship, it was becoming even harder for the two of you to be apart for such long periods of time. He was either always at your place or you were always at his whenever either of you had free time. When there was at least one moment to spare in both of your schedules, you were together. You couldn’t deny that the two of you were detrimentally stuck in the honeymoon phase, and you never wanted out.

That being said, it was no secret to the two friends seated in front of Josh as he paced the floor of the studio up and down. Danny was trying his best to keep a poker face, but was failing as his leg shook with his chin in the palm of his hand.

Sam snickered as he absentmindedly picked at his nails. “Did you try calling Y/N?”

Danny’s neck snapped in Sam’s direction, and Sam immediately realized the words that just left his mouth. Sam froze and his eyes widened, not quite ready to look up at his older brother.

Josh’s eyebrows furrowed as he continued pacing and he scoffed. “Sam, why the fuck would I call-” He paused instantly, connecting the dots in his head as to what his youngest brother said. His head turned to Sam and Danny, who finally worked up the courage to maintain eye contact with him. The expression on Josh’s face was unreadable as silence filled the entire room. Danny held his breath, trying to search for any emotion on his friend’s face. 

Without a response, Josh took a breath and walked out of the studio.

-

The nap that you and Jake had planned for was supposed to last for 20 minutes. Instead, you found yourself awake at what you thought was only 20 minutes later with Jake snuggled against you from behind. You squinted your eyes to view the time on your alarm clock.

“Oh shit,” you cursed loudly and Jake stirred from behind you. You shook him, not as gentle as you planned to be. “Jake, you’re late! Wake up!” Jake blinks his eyes open, unmoving from his place behind you as he became more oriented.

“Fuuuuck, Josh is gonna kill me,” he groans and rolls over, his palms pressing against his eyes. He lays there for a moment, not wanting to leave the comfort of you and your bed just yet.

“You gotta go, Jake,” you tried your best to shove him up and off the bed and fight back a laugh at how his body was going against your movements. He laughed a little and removed his hands from over his eyes as you gave up, his head falling into your lap as you gazed down at him. 

“Why rush when I’m already dead?” He jokes and you tilt your head at him, giving your best displeased expression. The last thing you wanted was for him to get in trouble because of you, but he truly couldn’t care less.

“Baby, get up,” your tone was the slightest bit more serious, but damn he looked so cute as he stared up at you. “They’re all waiting for you.”

Jake huffed out a “fine” and moved himself off of the bed before throwing his shirt on over his head and slipped his pants back on. You lie there on your bed just watching him; taking in the view of his muscles flexing against his tan skin as he dressed himself. He was a dream.

“Don’t give me that look,” he sighed once he turned around.

You furrowed your brows together. “What look?”

Jake walked closer to the bed and hovered over you. “The one that’s making me wanna get back in bed with you and never leave.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours and you nearly forgot the hurry that he needed to be in as his velvet lips danced against yours. It was too hard to force him to leave.

“Jake,” you said in between kisses. “You need to go.” You finally pull his face back with your hands and he pouts.

“Okay,” he sighs, planting one last kiss to your lips before pulling himself back up and walking out of your room. You hear the door open, indicating that he was leaving, but you didn’t hear the sound of the door shutting. Instead, you hear Jake’s voice again.

“Josh?” 

You practically leap up from your bed and sprint in the direction of your front door just in time to witness Josh shoving Jake backwards into the hallway.

“We’ve been waiting for you for over an hour, Jake!” His voice booms through your entryway as he walks closer to Jake, slamming the door behind him. Jake, not wanting to make things worse, simply backs away from him.

“I know, Josh. I’m so sorry. I overslept and I-”

“And you’re screwing our friend and everyone knew but me?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Jake was silent at his interruption, swallowing hard before looking down at the floor.

“And what happens when your little ‘friends with benefits’ situation gets fucked like it always does, huh?” Josh taunts him, his face growing red. “She’s my friend too, Jake! I’m not losing her just because you need to put your dick in someone-”

“Josh, it’s not like that!”

“What’s it like then?” Josh crosses his arms over his chest. “Fucking enlighten me.”

“I love her, Josh.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach the second he said those words out loud. Sure, you and Jake had been together for a few months now, but neither of you had said the word just yet. You knew you did, and you had an inkling he did too, but now you knew for sure. He loved you.

“You love me?” Your voice was quiet as nerves took over your body. Jake finally turns around to face you and his expression softens, his eyes filled with adoration; a special look only reserved for you. You couldn’t believe that you missed it all of those times before.

“I do,” he steps toward you. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

You smile up at him. “I love you too, Jake.”

“Well, fuck me,” Josh’s arms uncross and he drops them to his side. “Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

You decide to speak up now. “I’m really sorry, Josh. We really wanted to tell you, but we wanted to see what this really was before we told anyone, really. Danny and Sam found out on their own by accident and we asked them not to say anything.” You take Josh’s hands in yours then. “Just please don’t be mad at them, and don’t be mad at Jake either. I was the one wanting to keep it a secret for so long.”

There was a long pause as Josh pondered and you held your breath. “I hate that I can never be mad at you,” He huffs and a chuckle escapes him. “I understand, I do. And to be honest, I wish I was more shocked.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Josh pauses to find his wording before speaking again. “I always kinda knew. You can always tell when two people are in love.”

You smile at him. “So, everyone kinda already knew?”

“Everyone knew.”

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