so often i think back to when the notre dame caught fire and how so many celebrities and people with influence rallied to send money for rebuilding
itâs a beautiful building. i do love old architecture. butâŚ
these people have stayed silent for the many beautiful buildings destroyed by the israeli bombardment in gaza. have not said a word for the centuries-old feats of architecture that have been lost forever.
have not said a word for the many thousands of innocent palestinians who have been martyred or permanently injured in this genocide. or, worse, have spoken against these people.
is this the world we live in? where one singular building in a western country is more important than the lives of a whole population? where people struggling to make ends meet for themselves can still put aside money to help palestinians whilst millionaires do not?
i stand with palestine. forever and always i will stand with palestine. and i do not ever want to idolise influential people who do not also stand with palestine.
@ fic readers who write play by play comments that highlight your favorite passages and why you like them, please know you are the best humans to exist and please donât stop what youâre doing
This fic is written as a response to this request, and thank you, thank you for sending it my way! This was so, so fun to write and, as my first Jake fic, I'm very excited to share. That said, please heed the warnings, because this is just about as heretical as it gets! Seriously, this fic relies almost exclusively on using religious themes in decidedly sacrilegious ways.
Also if you're not familiar with Fleabag I highly recommend watching this scene as it will only enhance your enjoyment of this little fic.
18+ minors turn back now and do not return
Warnings: alcohol, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex (wear a condom), religious imagery used for VERY unholy purposes.
Word count: 3.8k
Part of you knew it was a mistake to watch Fleabag with Jake. He could pick up on your smallest, most subtle quirks and shifts. Every flinch, each fidget, Jake could read you like a book, and given your reactions when youâd watched by yourself, it shouldâve been no surprise when Jake noticed just how much you enjoyed the show.
Jake queued up the episode youâd left off at the previous week while you prepared two glasses of wine and a massive bowl of popcorn. Early on in your relationship, Thursdays became a TV night shared between you two. One day a week to share episodes youâd already watched and loved or new interests you shared. Youâd just finished Lovecraft Country, and it was your turn to pick the show, so you picked Fleabag; one of your favorites. So far, you loved sharing it with Jake, but now that the episode was coming up, you began to get nervous over just how much and what he would notice about you as you watched.
Episode four rolled around, and you were already shifting in your seat in preparation for the confessional booth scene. When Fleabag admitted her wish to be told what to do, Jake sent a knowing smirk your way, but you couldnât even snark back because your eyes were glued to the screen, pulse picking up. When the Hot Priest commanded âKneel,â your thighs pressed together of their own volition, despite your pleading with your body to remain neutral during the scene. Damn that sexy priest! And regardless the effort you took to keep your movements as imperceptible as possible, when you risked a glance at Jake, you saw his heated stare boring into you.
Youâd been found out.
With a quiet gasp, you flicked your eyes back to the screen and remained silent, finishing the episode without daring to look at Jake any further. When the credits rolled, he turned off the TV, and you held your breath, preparing for an onslaught of teasing. But, to your surprise, Jake simply rose from his perch on the couch, and walked to your shared bedroom to get ready for bed.
You heaved a sigh of relief. Discussing your unexplored fascination with the clergy was not a conversation you were prepared to have with Jake, or anyone for that matter, and though it was out of character for him to let something like this rest, you were grateful he had.
Early on in your relationship during a heated makeout session, heâd barely grazed his fingers against your throat and youâd practically unraveled there and then. For days he teased you about it, finding ways to graze your neck, chuckling at your wanton reactions, before heâd done anything about his newfound knowledge in the bedroom. Despite your spitfire and confident attitude, Jake knew you found it difficult it voice what you wanted when it came to sex, and he treated finding all your little kinks and wants like the most exciting game heâd ever played.
Since he hadnât said anything about this particular situation, though, perhaps this round just wasnât for him. And you could live with that. You didnât need that shame and guilt out in the open for Jake to see in all its unholy glory.
Heaving yourself from the couch, you joined him in getting ready for bed. And if you dreamt of Jake wearing a white collar that night, that was between you and whatever higher power kept tally of your sins.
***
The next week, you finished Fleabag, Jake handing you tissues to dab at your tears while he tried (and failed) to fight his own. The week after that, the two of you started the new season of Westworld, and any thoughts of the Hot Priest or trepidation about Jake doing something about your fascination with the character left your waking consciousness.
Your subconscious, on the other hand, had an absolute field day. It seemed as if every night was filled with dreams of confessional booths, church pews, and stained glass windows, all the while Jakeâs commanding voice demanded that you repent for your sins in the most wicked ways. And each morning, youâd wake up heated and wet, the urge to go to churchâ any churchâ to try to unwind some of the latent guilt that sat low in your belly nearly unbearable.
You couldnât explain your attraction, though you wish you could. You didnât even grow up Catholic. And God knew (whatever God that was, if there was one at all) that you hadnât been to any church service since you were a kid. Nevertheless, there was something so alluring, so enticing, about that forbidden fruit, and just the thought of being alone in a cavernous chapel with a stern priest sent your core into a frenzy.
Hell certainly had some real estate set aside just for you. You hoped it had a nice view.
***
TV night came again, and as you usually did, you set about preparing the wine and snacks while Jake set up the TV. When you entered the living room, an impressive balancing act carried in your arms, you nearly dropped everything after tripping in surprise.
Instead of a show waiting for you, the screen was blank and Jake was nowhere to be found. You called out to him, padding through the hallway to your bedroom, the only other place he could possibly be in the house. You rounded the doorway to find Jake standing in the middle of your room, lights off with the exception of flickering candles set up throughout the space
âWhy donât you put those down, love. I have something a little different in mind for tonight,â he said, his low tone both exciting and nerve wracking.
You placed the wine glasses and popcorn on your bedside table, straightening up hesitantly, âOh-kay. What exactly were you thinking?â
âA toast first,â Jake took the wine, offering you the other, and clinked the glasses together. âTo a long life with the woman I love.â
Smiling and blushing, you took a sip of your wine, before he continued.
âTo penance.â
You froze, watching as he too sipped from his glass, the flush coloring your cheeks no longer innocent. His dark gaze never left your face.
âAnd absolution.â
With a shiver, you downed the rest of your wine.
The atmosphere of your cozy bedroom had shifted completely. What had started as a comfortable night of what would surely have been soft touches and cuddling now took on the kind of sharp edge that had your pulse thudding and your cunt weeping.
Jake took your glass from you with delicate fingers, filling your now empty hand with the box he held.
âWhy donât you open up your gift, and Iâll get you another glass of wine.â
You could only nod in response, sure that if you spoke, your voice would give away your excitement. As he stepped around you, he let his shoulder graze your own, and you could practically hear his smirk as you sighed at the chaste contact.
The sound of his feet quietly padding to the kitchen faded from your ears, and you took a steadying breath before gazing down at the box in your hands. It was simple, long, the kind of velvet case that held fine jewelry and expensive watches. You had an inkling of what laid inside, but you were shocked nonetheless when you finally opened the lid.
A soft gasp caught in your throat as your eyes danced over the rosary nestled inside the box.
Soft white pearls and deep crimson crystal glimmered in the candle light, the silver crucifix flashing so brightly you had to close your eyes against it. You took it from its box, holding it up in fascination as you studied its fine craft.
âItâs blessed, you know,â Jake rasped lowly in your ear, making you jump and goosebumps blossom over your flesh. You hadnât heard him come back inside the room.
Swallowing, you forced out, âWhere did you get it?â
âI ordered it after we watched that episode. It comes from the Vatican, took forever to ship here,â you felt his fingers lightly brush a strand of hair from your face and behind your ear. âWasnât cheap, either. But when I imagined how the pearls and scarlet would look against your flushed skin, I couldnât resist.â
His hot breath tickled against your ear, and you closed your eyes, âOh?â
âMmm,â he hummed, and you opened your eyes to see him now standing in front of you, glass of red wine offered in an outstretched hand. âSacrament.â
You shivered, and accepted the glass with a shaking hand. With three deep pulls, you polished off the wine, and he took the empty glass with a low chuckle. The alcohol bloomed warm in your belly, the heat spreading from your knees to the tip of your nose. It encouraged you to ask, âAnd what will serve as the body of Christ in this Eucharist?â
âOh, my clever and obedient girl,â Jakeâs lips curved into a wicked grin, âso eager to be blessed.â
He fell silent, and you waited for him to continue with bated breath. Slowly, he began to circle you, and you followed his journey as much as you could with your eyes, too wired to move beyond that. When he came back to face you, two of his fingers tilted your chin so you gazed directly into his brown eyes, normally so warm, but now stern and unmerciful.
âKneel.â
The command was barely above a whisper, but your body responded with such haste it felt like heâd shouted.
Your chest was heaving with labored breaths. You were already flushed and heated, and you could feel yourself dripping through your panties. Your gaze was still fixed to Jakeâs, and you could see satisfaction swimming in his eyes.
âWell done,â he praised, âthereâs hope for your salvation yet. Now, give me your hands.â
Without hesitation, you raised your hands toward him, the rosary still tangled between your shaking fingers. Jakeâs mouth twitched at the sight; your palms were pressed together as if in prayer. Gently, he unwound the beads from your grasp and he inspected the rosary with a critical eye before he moved to place it around your neck. Hands still together, you bowed your head to help, a diligent disciple to your savior.
âDonât you make for a pretty sight?â It wasnât a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway, desperate for his praise. âYou agree,â he scoffed. âPride. Another sin to add to your long, long list of transgressions. I donât know if you deserve Communion, do you?â
Eyes to the floor, your begs were only a whisper, âYes, please. I deserve to receive Communion.â
âIâll be the judge of that. Open.â
Your jaw fell open without hesitation, and Jake grumbled out a sound of appreciation as his deft fingers made their way to the buttons of his shirt. He made quick work of the fabric, shaking it from his shoulders and exposing his chest and stomach. His own excitement was made visible only by the thin sheen of sweat that was beginning to collect at the hollow of his throat and collarbones. His long hair brushed over his shoulders and the gold pendant he wore flickered in the light. Achingly slow, he undid the closure of his pants and pushed the material down his legs, stepping away and kicking them to some unseen corner of your room. As he stood, clad only in his boxer briefs that strained against his erection, spit pooled in your open and waiting mouth. You watched as his thumbs hooked under his waistband, and were transfixed when he pulled them down just enough for his cock to freely bob up and against his stomach. His flushed tip was glistening in the low light of the room, and you swallowed thickly and loudly as you watched him rid himself of that last bit of clothing until he was bare before you.
Shining, radiant, heavenly.
The air in the room became heavy with Jake standing before you, the dull ache of your knees, and the sensation of the rosary pressing down upon your shoulders. Your breaths came to you in deep shudders and you choked, open-mouthed, at the saliva that coated your tongue. Your eyes were wide and wet with tears that surprised you as you gazed up at Jake, the only higher power you recognized in this moment.
âOh, my love,â he purred, stepping forward and caressing your face. âIs the weight of your sins too heavy?â
Completely and utterly under his spell, you nodded, dazed.
âWell then, letâs help you towards absolution.â
Keeping one hand pressed against your cheek, he used the other to grasp himself and guide his cock into your waiting mouth. When you felt his head nudge the back of your throat, you closed your eyes, feeling an errant tear escape and track down your face. He swiped it away with his thumb, and a sob ripped through your throat at the feeling.
âShh, love,â he soothed, resting against your tongue. âYouâre doing so well.â
At his praise, you gathered what wits you had left and turned to the task at hand, determined to earn whatever deliverance Jake would give you.
You closed your lips around his length and, tracing your tongue over and around the ridges and veins of his cock, you began to suck at him in earnest. Bobbing your head, you focused special attention at the place under his head that you knew would have his knees buckling, and for your efforts, you were rewarded with a groan of approval. Both his hands wound their way into your hair, and you pulled off to drag your tongue wetly over and around him, gripping the base of him to spit on the tip before descending once again, tongue probing his slit before you took him as far as you could. You hollowed your cheeks, and his grip tightened. More moans drifted into your ears, a chorus of hymns, as you accepted your Communion.
Deeper and deeper you took him, ignoring your own gags of protest against his length. You felt him throb and pulse against your tongue, and he began to guide your movements with his hands pressed against your skull. Eyes closed, you let him fuck your throat, your own moans of gratitude mingling with his.
After a few blissful minutes, Jake pulled your head away, breathing heavily. His thumbs pressed calming circles into your sore jaw muscles, and you blinked wetly up at him. A pleased smile spread across your raw mouth as you gazed at him, your unshed tears making the light feather around his face in a fuzzy halo.
âAre you ready to fully repent?â Jake asked, his stern voice playing against the clearly satisfied smile that tugged at the corner of his eyes and lips.
The evidence of your effect on him bolstered your confidence, and you couldnât help your cheeky reply, âYes, Father.â
The smile fell from his face and was replaced with a primal darkness as he hauled you up from your knees and tossed you on the bed.
âStrip,â he commanded, a growl on the edge of his words.
Quickly, you set about obeying, but it wasnât nearly fast enough for Jake. He ripped at the loose sweatpants you wore, tearing them down your legs while you grappled with your t-shirt. You were left only in your panties, and the both of you scrambled to rid your body of them.
When you were finally rid of your clothes, Jake loomed above you, between you legs and perched on his knees. His eyes trailed over your body, starting at your feet and languidly making their way over your calves and thighs, taking a moment to stare hungrily at your glistening core, before surveying your stomach and breasts. His eyes stopped at the rosary, resting against your heaving, sweat dampened chest.
âYou look like an angel,â his voice was saccharine as he met your eyes, but he tsked, shaking his head patronizingly, âbut we both know you arenât, donât we?â
You began to nod, but were interrupted when he hooked his hands under your hips and flipped you over. Once again, he gripped your hips and hauled you up so you were resting on your elbows. Before you could begin to think, you felt Jakeâs long fingers stroking through your folds, and with a gasp, you jolted forward, pressing your face into the pillows.
âStay right here, love,â he pressed the fingers of his other hand into your hip with a bruising force, pulling your body back to him, âand accept your penance.â
A moan was all you could utter in response, which was acceptable enough to Jake as he pushed two agile fingers inside of you, twisting and curling them until you were a whining mess. He pressed into and against you, searching for the place he was well acquainted with. You cried out in ecstasy when he found it.
âThere she is,â he murmured, his self-satisfied smile obvious in his voice.
Much to your dismay, Jake pulled his fingers from your entrance, but you soon felt the thick head of his cock pressing against it. He didnât enter you immediately, instead, he slid himself through your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it over his length. You felt him brush over your clit, and the sensation was like electricity. You choked out a groan, legs shaking. Jake had you so worked up, that just that one fleeting touch had nearly sent you over the edge.
âDid that feel good,â Jake asked.
You wiggled your hips back, an attempt at some sort of friction, âYes, please, Jake.â
A sharp crack echoed through the room before you felt the sting of the slap he laid across the meat of your ass. Your yelp of surprise slipped into a moan when you felt your heat gush. Jake felt it too, and he groaned in appreciation.
âYouâre getting greedy, too. We canât have that.â
With a sharp pinch to your hip, you felt him press the tip of his length against your core and push. You moaned with each inch as he filled you, stretching you near to bursting. When he was fully seated within you, your throat closed against the whine that threatened to tear its way from your lungs, resulting in a pathetic hiccup.
Jake paused for a moment, his hands stroking up your sides and dancing down your spine before they gripped once more at your hips.
âYouâre beautiful,â he breathed, slowly starting to pump his hips. âStunning,â each word was punctuated by a thrust, each thrust growing in intensity and speed, âethereal. Youâre perfect for me, fuck! Iâd put you on an altar if I could, Iâd pray to you every day, morning, noon, and night. Youâre my whole world, love, all of it.â
All you could muster were little choked gasps into the pillows, pushing yourself backwards to meet each one of his delicious thrusts into you. Each movement, each stroke of Jakeâs palm against your skin, the drag of his cock as it slipped from within and without you, fanned the flames that were growing low in your belly.
âI can feel you gripping me, fluttering that pretty little cunt over my cock like a vice. Youâre getting close, arenât you? Let me hear you. Let me hear you pray that I give you just what you want.â
Chanting his name, you begged Jake to let you come, to bring you to your peak. And, like the benevolent God he was, he helped you find it.
Jake slithered a hand to your front, bringing his fingers to your aching clit where he pressed relentless circles into your sensitive skin. With a last cry of his name, you hurtled over the edge and into bliss. You trembled with pleasure, held up only by Jakeâs firm grip as he continued to pump into you, finding his own release soon after yours. You felt him spill hot inside you, and moments later he collapsed onto your back, the both of you sinking into the mattress.
Your mind was going hazy at the edges in the afterglow, and you felt a lazy, satiated smile pull at your lips. Just as you were getting comfortable, Jake pulled away and you whined in protest. He only chuckled, gently rolling you over and situating himself between your legs.
âWhat?â He teased, âNow that youâve been purified, we canât let you make a mess of yourself.â
And to your shock and unbidden delight, Jake delved between your legs to lap at the mess the two of you had made. His mouth was deft as it explored you, his tongue dipping inside before trailing up and tracing over your clit. As his lips circled your clit and began to suck, he brought two fingers to your entrance, pushing inside and hooking them upwards so that you cried out, writhing beneath him. When he removed his fingers, he brought them up to your lips, which you opened obediently, not hesitating to lick and suck away the evidence of your coupling. He pressed down firmly against your tongue while sucking harshly at your clit.
Your second orgasm hit you abruptly, and you moaned around Jakeâs fingers, bucking up against his mouth as he worked you through it. It took you far longer than normal to calm yourself, the tingling of your pleasure lingering in every cell. Jake peppered soft pecks over your thighs and up your belly as you came down, finally making his way to your lips where he took your mouth in a hungry kiss. When you opened your eyes, you saw that he was absolutely drenched, and you blanched.
âOh my God, Iâm so sorry!â
He only chuckled, wiping his face and shaking out his dripping tresses, âNo God here, love, just me. And besides, thatâs what I call a baptism. I feel born again!â
You grabbed a pillow and smacked him halfheartedly, too exhausted to do any real damage, but you laughed at his lewd comment all the same.
âYouâre disgusting,â you grumbled through your giggles, âand I think we both need a shower. And to do laundry.â
Jake only shrugged, flopping back on top of you with a lazy grin.
When your breathing had settled, he pulled away, a cheeky glint in his eye.
âSo, how do you feel, love? Saved?â Jake asked, toying with the rosary that was still wound around your throat.
You laughed, pulling him in for another kiss as you said against his plush lips, âQuite the opposite, actually. I think that just booked me a one way ticket to Hell.â
âOn the bright side,â Jake laughed, nipping at your jaw, âI think weâll be making that trip together.â
Taglist: @gretavanfleas, @starsasone
A/N Thank you so much for reading and supporting my fics. I read every comment and tag and y'all are truly so kind. I hope you enjoyed this once and if you need to bring this up at confession, I apologize in advance.
a suggestion.. gen 43 with Jake, maybe a little drunken religious role playing ? đŠ
i am SWEATING just thinking about this! i immediately set to work and i will not rest til this is finished so be prepared for this later today my GOD am i grateful you sent this my way holy shit
Hello, hello! I finally finished my line-cook Josh fic! However, I tweaked it a bit after watching and becoming obsessed with The Bear on hulu and if you haven't watched it yet, do it, it's incredible. So, I present sous chef Josh! I also might make this a two-part fic if y'all are interested, so let me know if you'd like to see that.
This fic is in response to this wonderful request, and I want to thank everyone who has sent in requests. They've been so fun to write and I so appreciate y'all trusting me to write them. If you have any requests you'd like to see, or if you just want to scream about the Kiszkas, my asks are always and forever open.
Disclaimer: I've never worked in a restaurant so if I got anything wrong please forgive me, all my knowledge comes from film and friends.
18+ MINORS DNI SERIOUSLY GO AWAY
Warnings: language, smoking, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (use a condom!!)
Word count: 4.1k
Without further ado...
The service industry has its ups and downs, good days and bad days. The good customers are incredible and the bad, well, spitting in their food is the least you want to do. But, the little diner you worked at had a decent pay, and you got good tips. Your bosses, a sweet older couple whoâd owned the joint for a couple decades, were great, and you loved your coworkers.
Well, except for one.
Joshua Kiszka was the sous for the kitchen, certified flirt, and grade-A thorn in your side. Heâd come to this hole-in-the-wall a week after youâd been hired from some high end restaurant in New York, and had decided to make his attitude about moving back to his small hometown everyone elseâs problem, especially yours, for some unknown reason. From the moment you were hired, he made it his god-ordained mission to irritate you to the point of resignation every shift you shared. And, unluckily, you ended up sharing every. fucking. shift.
âHey, Cherry!â His Michigan accent rang out through the small kitchen as you entered through the doors, âDrinks at the Dive after shift, itâs been decided, and youâre DDing!â
Without looking at him, you responded flatly, âI told you to stop calling me that, and thereâs no way in hell. Get an Uber, degenerate.â
âBut, how could I call you anything else when youâre just as sweet as cherry pie? You know I love it when you call me a degenerate, it just warms my soul.â
With a roll of your eyes, you grabbed the plates for your table and left the kitchen. The rest of your shift went much like that, same as it always did. You entered the kitchen, Josh heckled you, you left the kitchen, and the cycle continued.
Your CDC, Anthony, was out sick, and Josh was given the responsibility of running the kitchen in his absence, which meant that Josh was even more cocky than usual.
âCherry, take those plates out!â
âCherry, get me a glass of ice water!â
âCherry, move those dishes, theyâre ruining the energy space!â
The other server, Marcy, sent you sympathetic looks with each demand, which you brushed off with a roll of your eyes. This was just how Josh was, and you were used to it by now, but you werenât happy about it. So you set about each task that Josh gave you as slowly as you could, sending him a sickly sweet smile and a sarcastic, âYes chef!â
Towards the end of the night, the stream of customers had dwindled and you were left with one patron, a good looking guy around your age. He introduced himself to you as David, and continued to chat with you every time you made your way over to his table. By the time he ordered a slice of pie, you two were laughing together.
âMy compliments to the baker, this is incredible,â David gushed over a bite of the apple crumble.
You refilled his coffee mug, âIâll relay the message.â
âAre you going to do that through a text from your phone, or something like that?â He sent you a shy look.
With a slight blush, you responded, âYeah, something like that.â
âSo, if I asked for your number, that could be something you might be able to give me?â
You felt eyes boring into the back of your skull, and you turned toward the kitchen window behind the counter to see Joshâs bandanaâd head glaring at you from his station. You turned back to David, sending Josh a subtle middle finger from behind your back. âI think we could probably arrange that.â
âGreat!â David beamed, âMaybe I can take you to dinner sometime, somewhere you donât work?â
Laughing, you took his now empty plate, âThat would be amazing. Let me get your receipt and that phone number for you.â
You shot him a wink and went to the register, quickly ringing up his meal and writing down your number with a small heart. Sending him a small wave as David left the diner, you turned toward the kitchen and grabbed the dirty plates on the counter. When you shouldered open the door, Josh was standing right there, arms crossed and a sour look on his face.
Choosing to ignore him, you brushed past Josh and dropped the dishes off at the sink. When you turned around, wiping your hands on the small apron at your waist, he was right behind you, still in his disgruntled state.
âJesus Christ, Josh, what the fuck is your problem?â
He narrowed his eyes, âDonât wipe your hands on your apron. That wasnât very professional.â
âWhat wasnât professional? Wiping my hands?â You knew what he was referring to, but decided to be difficult.
He adjusted his white bandana, tucking a loose curl underneath it, âGiving your number out to a patron. Itâs unprofessional.â
âBite me, Kiszka.â
He smirked, cracking his grumpy disposition, âIf you insist. And thatâs, âBite me, Chefâ, to you.â
âYou want to come for me for being unprofessional when you pull that kind of shit all the time?â You threw your hands in the air, âThe level of hypocrisy is astounding!â
His face fell back into a mask of frustration, âYou donât know that guy, Cherry. He could be a serial killer, murdering diner waitresses all across the midwest.â
âOh, so youâre just looking out for me, thatâs it,â your voice was rising in volume, and you could see the two remaining customers swivel their heads to look at you through the kitchen window from the dining room, but you were too angry to care. âThis isnât just another way to try to make my life miserable while Iâm stuck working with you. Well, thank you so much, Joshua, that was very chivalrous and gallant, and not at all just you being a prick for no goddamn reason!â
Josh sneered, âWell, youâre really gonna love this. You thought you got off in an hour? Youâve been selected to help with closing duty with yours truly, so be prepared for an extra two hours with your knight in shining armor. Congratulations, honestly, I canât think of a more deserving employee.â
âAre you fucking serious?â By this point, you were being ushered out the back door by Chuck, a line cook.
He gently shoved you out the door, âMaybe itâs time to take your break? Have a cigarette or two.â
âHeâs joking, right? This is just some sort of power trip because heâs the head-asshole-in-charge for the night?â
Chuck shrugged, âYou let him get to you too easily. Letâs just try to get through the rest of shift without any incidents.â
âEasy for you to say,â you grumbled. âYou donât have to spend an extra two hours alone with him.â
Chuck left you to stew in your anger, and you took his advice, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with shaking fingers. You paced, occasionally kicking the wall for some emotional release. There was just something about Josh Kiszka that frustrated you to no end. He was always loud, always joking, and rarely seemed to take anything seriously. He also had the impeccable knack to figure out every which way to needle you, and he took great advantage of that. From nicknames, to teasing, to sneaking up behind you while your hands were full of dishes and belting out some ridiculous song, Josh burrowed his way under your skin and made himself at home there.
But what really frustrated you, if you were being honest with yourself, was that he only ever fucked with you.
Everyone else, from management, to waitstaff, to the other cooks, had great relationships with Josh. After heâd gotten over the chip on his shoulder after leaving his cushy restaurant in New York, heâd settled into the work family with an ease that had you stewing. They joked around, heâd whip up their favorite sandwiches for them. Hell, Josh even babysat for some of the parents on staff! The only person he seemed to dislike, maybe in the entire world, was you, and you couldnât figure out why.
With a deep sigh, you sat heavily on the step, dragging deeply on your cigarette and willing yourself not to cry. Itâs been a long day, you reasoned with yourself, and it was only going to get longer. These were exhausted tears, not because you were upset that some asshole you worked with didnât like you.
The door behind you creaked open.
âCherry, weâre closing up a bit early so we can get a head start on clean up- oh,â Joshâs voice halted when he saw you hastily swiping at your cheeks. âHey, are you okay?â
Without looking at him, you responded, âIâm fine, just let me finish my cigarette, I think you owe me that.â Despite the wobble in your voice, you injected enough venom in your words to effectively tell Josh to fuck right off, and thankfully he got the message.
âYeah, uh, okay. Take your time, Iâll just⌠get started.â
You heard the door close, and sighing deeply, you stubbed out your cigarette, and as a secret âfuck youâ to Josh, lit a new one, willing your face to calm itself and not look so obviously as if youâd been crying before you walked back inside.
By the time youâd collected yourself, stepped out your smoke, and reentered the kitchen, everyone else had gone. Josh was scrubbing at one of the stoves, and barely sent you a glance before saying, âIâve got the kitchen stations if you can handle front of house?â
With a grumble of affirmation, you trudged your way into the dining room and set about cleaning the tables, mopping the floor, restocking the silverware, and readying the napkins for the next day. When everything in the front of house was set, you slunk your way back to the kitchen with trepidation. When you walked through the swinging doors, Josh was wiping his hands on his pant legs, standing up from where he was scrubbing at a spot on the floor.
âOh, hey, Cherry. Everything set up front?â You nodded, and he continued, âWell, kitchen is good, so if you could help me with inventory and the walk-in, we should be good to go.â
Shrugging noncommittally, you led the way, not holding the door open for Josh as you entered the walk-in. Without saying a word, you began to take stock. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Josh open his mouth beside you, and then close it again, apparently deciding against whatever comment he was going to make. For a few, blissfully silent minutes, the two of you scanned the shelves, making notes when needed. Accidentally, you bumped into his side and mumbled an apology before quickly returning to the task at hand, but before you could, he laid a hesitant palm to your bicep.
âIs everything good?â
You stopped and heaved a sigh, âYes, Josh. Why wouldnât everything be good?â
âYou just seemed kind of upset outside, you know, and I wanted to see if you were okay.â
Despite his gentle tone, you shook his hand off aggressively, âIâm fine.â
âOkay, clearly, youâre not. But okay.â
You turned to face him, a can of San Marzanos in hand, âYou wouldnât know, though, would you? How could you possibly know whether Iâm okay or not?â He took a step back, looking baffled, which pissed you off. âItâs not like youâve ever tried to get to know me. All youâve done from the moment we met is find ways to irritate me and fuck with me. Never have you asked what Iâd like for lunch, or how my life is going, or even if I want to join you guys for drinks beyond driving you home after!â
By the time youâd finished ranting, Josh had the beginnings of a grin creeping across his face.
âWhat? What the fuck could you possibly be smiling about, Kiszka?â
He shrugged, beaming wider still, âSo thatâs why you donât like me? Because I donât make you food like I do everyone else?â
âOh, fuck off!â You shoved past him, trying to leave the walk-in and go the fuck home.
Before you could get very far, he stepped in your way, blocking your route so you pressed against his chest, âNo, no, letâs unpack this.â You scoffed, and he carried on, âYou hate me because I donât cook for you, and donât ask how youâre doing, and donât take you out for drinks. Cherry, if I didnât know any better Iâd think that you might want to go on a date with meâ
âIn your disgusting, wet dreams.â
ââIn your disgusting, wet dreams, Chef.ââ He corrected, brown eyes twinkling.
You poked his chest and rose slightly on your toes to get in his face, âYou are indescribably aggravating.â
âAnd you, Cherry,â He smirked, âare cute when youâre mad at me.â
That caused you to pause, âIâ you, uhâ fuck you, Josh.â
âWhat, right here? Unhygienic.â
You poked his chest again, hard enough that you thought you might even leave a bruise, âYou are so unprofessional!â
âWell, Iâm afraid I can no longer remain professional when it comes to you,â he grabbed the wrist you had pushed against his chest, his thumb rubbing against your pulse point. âYour blood is pounding, getting a little hot and bothered, pressed up against me like this?â
You scoffed, a little breathless though you wouldnât admit it, âMaybe Iâm just that angry with you.â
âMaybe,â Josh turned your wrist slowly and raised it to his face, ghosting his lips over the thin skin there before throwing you a glance and a wicked grin. âEither way, what are you going to do about it?â
You fully intended to hit him right in his smug face, but surprised yourself by rushing forward and pressing your lips to his feverishly. He responded in kind immediately, pushing his tongue past your lips and teeth to dominate your mouth as his hands grasped at your waist. His fingers dug into your sides, slipping under your shirt and thumbing softly at your skin. A quiet whimper escaped your lungs and you felt him smirk against your lips.
âYou like it when I touch you, you got a crush on me or something?â
You groaned into his mouth, âI swear to god, if you donât shut up Iâm going to rip that nasty bandana off your head and gag you with it.â
âOh, Cherry,â he chuckled, pulling away with a glint in his eye. âI never pegged you as a dirty talker.â
In response, you bit the corner of his jaw hard enough to make him gasp. You didnât relish your small victory for long, though, because he retaliated by spinning the two of you and shoving you up against the door of the walk-in hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs with a small âoofâ. Before you could even catch your breath, you felt Joshâs nimble fingers undoing the apron at your waist and the buttons on your jeans.
âNow, now,â He spoke into the skin of your neck, punctuating his words with sharp nips and tender licks. âIs that anyway to treat your chef?â Your jeans were completely open, baring the front of your simple blue panties, and his fingers danced along the waistband. âI think you need to start showing me a little more respect, donât you agree?â
Swiftly and with shocking expertise, he plunged his calloused fingers into your panties and began to assault your clit with tight circles, occasionally swiping between your folds to collect the embarrassing amount of wetness that had spread there in such a short amount of time.
Your head fell back against the door with a thud and you gasped at the sudden sensation. Those years of careful knife work had really paid off for Josh, you were beginning to discover.
âOh, was that a yes, you agree?â
You nodded, but that wasnât enough. He pushed two fingers inside you and hooked them towards your pelvic bone, and you cried out wantonly.
âThatâs better, but Iâm going to need some actual words, Cherry. A well-run kitchen is all about clear communication.â
Bucking your hips into his palm, you whined, âYes!â
âYes, what?â Josh stilled his movements and brought his face to yours, catching your chin with his unoccupied hand.
Your eyelids fluttered in confusion, âHuh?â
âYes, what?â
A deep flush crept up your chest and over your cheeks, âYes, Chef.â
âGood girl.â
Josh dropped to his knees and ripped your jeans down your legs, guiding your still-sneakered feet out of the legs and tossing them haphazardly behind him before he gripped the flesh of your thighs and nosed at your cunt. You gasped when his nose brushed against your clit, but the small relief was short lived as he journeyed to your hips and laid wet, open-mouthed kisses there. He traveled around your thighs and up toward your belly button, peppering teasing pecks as he went until you had ripped away his headband and were desperately pulling at his unruly curls, attempting to guide him towards your weeping core.
He bit at the meat of your inner thigh, âNuh uh, youâre not the one running the show here. Youâre going to be patient and enjoy whatever youâre given, understand?â
You agreed, hissing when he bit you again as a reminder of what you were to call him. A fresh rush of wetness seeped from between your thighs when you relented with, âYes, Chef.â
âI love hearing you say that,â he sucked against the bite mark, further bruising the skin, before licking a trail to your heat and swiping his tongue over your slit.
He set to work with the same enthusiasm with which he cooked, and you were grinding your hips against his face in a matter of moments, chasing the drag of his facial hair and the velvet glide of his tongue. He circled your clit with a pointed tongue and pressed it flatly against you with a pressure that sent you reeling. His grip on your hips tightened as he discovered every which way to make you tick. Suddenly, he plunged his tongue inside you as deep as he could, in the process rubbing his nose against your aching clit. You moaned and trembled, and he pulled away, face glistening with you.
âWanna know what you taste like? Iâm a bit of an expert.â
In any other situation, you wouldâve wanted to smack the cocky smirk from his face, but instead you gripped his hair and tried to keep the wobble from your voice, âIf you donât get back to work and make me come, Iâm walking out and never coming back, Chef.â
Josh barked out a laugh and pinched your hip, then sucked your clit into his warm, wet mouth with a pressure that made your knees buckle. He gripped the back of your thighs, keeping you standing, but didnât relent. The pressure in your belly that had been building languidly now sped towards its peak. You were panting and moaning, head rocking to and fro against the door. Without your noticing, Josh had brought one hand to where his mouth met your body, and with quick push inside your core and a firm press into your walls, your orgasm crashed over you in an unexpected attack.
You sank down to the floor, limbs trembling and eyes closed against the waves of pleasure that crackled through your veins. Before youâd even recovered, you felt Joshâs arms around your waist. You opened your eyes to watch him maneuver you both so that he sat against the door and you straddled his now bare lap. His cock was ruddy and weeping where it pressed to his belly, and you met his gaze with a dazed and giddy smile.
âWhatâs got you so excited?â
He laughed, breathlessly, and mouthed along your jaw, âJust looking forward to finally getting a piece of that sweet, Cherry pie.â
You groaned, but with a giggle, âI hate when you talk.â
âNo,â he placed a kiss under your ear, and you scrunched up your shoulder when his facial hair tickled against your neck. âI think you like it.â
You pulled his face back to yours, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth before pulling away and giving him a genuine smile, âYes, Chef.â
Josh pressed his forehead to yours and gently moved your hips so they were hovering over his cock. As you descended to his lap, you took him in hand and guided him inside you. As you slid down his thick length, your moans mingled in the heavy air of the walk-in. When he was finally fully seated within you, your breath hitched against a whine.
Slowly, you rocked against him, building your pace and adjusting to the size of him as he stretched you from the inside. Josh was releasing little hisses and grunts between his clenched teeth, and you passed a hand over his cheek.
âDonât get quiet now,â you breathed.
Josh took your challenge, shifting his hands to grasp at the meat of your ass as he pushed and pulled you up and down his dick, thrusting his hips into you roughly.
âKnew you loved my mouth, probably as much as you love my cock.â High pitched whines were forced out of you as he continued, âAlways walking around my kitchen as if you own it, like you own me. But now we know who belongs to who, donât we? Every time you walk into this kitchen, any time you pass this walk-in, youâre going to be dripping with the memory of my tongue inside you, me fucking into you, you bouncing on my dick too fucked out to even say a word.â
You could only nod in response to the onslaught of his filthy words and the drag of his cock within you. Once again, you could feel your peak blossoming, and you clenched hard around Josh. He groaned, pulling your mouth to hips and biting into your lower lip.
âI can feel you gripping me, squeezing me. Fuck, youâre so good, Cherry. Wish I could stay like this forever, but Iâm getting close.â
You vocalized your agreement with a low moan and he doubled his efforts, bringing a thumb between you to circle at your clit, and you were falling into your release with only a few strokes. Josh wasnât close behind, and after half a dozen more erratic thrusts, you felt him come inside you with a shuddering warmth.
The strength you had left to hold yourself up left, and you collapsed in a heaving, sweaty heap into Josh, your face pressed into his neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his nose into your hair as you both caught your breath.
Abruptly, Josh fell backward, and you with him, as the walk-in door opened.
âHey, have you two seenâ oh HELL no!â
Wide-eyed, you twisted your head to see Chuck looming above your half-naked and still very much entangled bodies. His eyes continuously flickered between the two of you, your discarded pants and aprons, and back to you.
âYâall are disgusting. You better bleach this whole damn kitchen, and if I ever see either of you twoâs naked asses again, Iâm quitting and taking you both with me.â
With that, Chuck turned on his heel with a disappointed shake of his head, and left the kitchen, without whatever it was that heâd come back to get in the first place.
You heard the back door close, and you looked at Josh, you appeared just as shocked as you were, before you burst into hysterics. Tears were streaming from both your eyes in laughter as he shifted you both into a sitting position.
âAh, shit, Cherry!â He groaned through his giggles, âStop laughing, youâre clenching up and itâs killing me!â
That sent you into another fit of laughter as you gracelessly, but gently, removed yourself from on top of Josh. He threw you his discarded bandana so you could clean yourself up, and you smiled in gratitude.
You set about making yourselves more presentable, hiking up jeans and throwing your aprons over your shoulders.
âHey,â Josh smiled, leaning against the defiled walk-in door. âBefore we clean this whole place up again, you want a grilled cheese? I know theyâre your favorite and Iâve been hiding away this amazing aged cheddar for a special occasion.â
You grinned cheekily, âSo you do know what kind of foods I like. You been paying attention to me, Chef?â
âSince the moment I laid eyes on you, Cherry.â
no listen youâre onto something bc as a hostess/food runner my entire self esteem rests on the backs of the dank-smelling 30 year old men in the kitchen showering me in compliments between rushes and that does in fact scream josh Kiszka
i tweaked it a bit after watching and becoming obsessed with the bear on hulu (highly recommend its such a good show) but i hope you like it all the same!! also, disclaimer, ive never worked in a restaurant so i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies lmaooo
i'm apologizing in advance because i've never worked in a restaurant but i couldn't resist line cook josh i mean is he not??? perfect?????? as an annoying yet charming line cook?????????
After a night of drinking, Josh wanders off and it falls to you to find him. After a bit of moon gazing and a minor injury, the tension between you snaps.
This is in response to this request! Thank you so much for sending it my way, and thank you for your patience in me finally writing it. If you, dear readers, have any requests of your own (from prompts or your own mind), please send them, I'd love to write it!
18+ MINORS DNI
Warnings: language, alcohol, drug use, oral sex (f receiving)
Word count: 3.2k
EnjoyâĽď¸
The party was starting to die down and plenty of people had already filtered out and made their way home. Youâd made the mistake of smoking a blunt with your friend, Sam, not too long ago, so you knew that it would be a while before you were comfortable driving yourself home.
Lucky for you, this was Sam and his friend Dannyâs shared house, so you knew you had a couch to crash on for a few hours at least.
You settled deeper into the lawn chair you were seated in, staring contentedly into the bonfire that also had begun to die, but still sent a pleasant warmth your way. Samâs brother, Jake, sat across the fire from you, lazily strumming at his guitar and it paired well with the weed to settle and comfort you. It was a subtle buzz, and you were at just the right level of not-sober. That, of course, was broken by Sam stumbling and collapsing into the chair next to you.
âWhoâs the most sober right now?â He slurred.
You sent him a sideways glance, âWhy? Are you going to make someone do you a favor?â
âIâm telling you right now, the answer is ânoââ Jake declared, not even looking up from his guitar.
Sam rolled his eyes and turned fully toward you, âDanny saw Josh stumble back into the woods toward the old shed, but neither he nor I are in any state to go look for him and make sure he hasnât fallen into a ditch.â
âSo now that job falls to me?â You whined, âMake Jake go, heâs his twin!â
He continued to strum, âBeen keeping Josh alive for 26 years, Iâm taking the night off.â
You gave an imploring look to Sam, who returned one of his own, âCâmon, Peach,â he begged, using the nickname bestowed upon you last summer after youâd gotten sick from indulging too greedily in the fruit, âif I go, Iâll become a missing persons case.â
Unfortunately, Samâs stupid puppy dog eyes won out.
âFine!â You threw your hands up in exasperation, âBut you owe me, and I intend to collect in full, Samuel.â
With a groan, you clambered from your seat and started to wobble your way towards the woods. Sam sent a sarcastically sweet âthank youâ and you flipped two middle fingers in his direction with a grumble. While you were the most sober of the bunch, you certainly werenât stone cold, and you could already sense the twisted ankle you were bound to get on this adventure to rescue Josh.
You didnât mind going after Josh, necessarily, but you werenât delighted, either. The two of you were just very different people. Where Josh was boisterous and energetic, you were calm and quiet. When you got excited, Josh was indifferent. Any time you tried to really connect, you only found an awkward tension that you never experienced with his brothers. It seemed like you could never find your footing with Josh, so you tended to avoid one-on-one interactions with him.
It didnât help that youâd also harbored a crush on him since Sam had introduced you.
In every way that Josh was unlike you, you wished you could be like him. His stories full of charisma, his instances of depth, you could never find those moments the way he did, and you admired that about Josh. He also had the most beautiful smile youâd ever seen, but you didnât need to be thinking about that as you trudged through the underbrush, occasionally shaking out your Birkenstocks to rid yourself of the leaves that found their way under your feet.
You stopped, looking around to find your bearings, when you saw the soft light of the shed shine through the trees about a hundred yards away. With a sigh, you continued on. At the door, you gave a warning knock before stepping inside.
âI swear to God, Josh, if you came out here to have a sneaky wank session Iâm going to kill you.â
Inside the shed, Josh only had a small lantern on, which cast a faint golden glow through the small space, so low you could barely see him.
He didnât even look up from what you recognized to be a telescope, pointed up and out of a small window, âShh! Come here and look at this.â
You stepped toward him hesitantly, and he moved away from the telescope so you could situate yourself at the lens. You peered into the telescopeâs sight, but could only see a darkness.
âI canât really see anything,â you muttered.
Josh placed his hands on your shoulders, âHold on.â He gently maneuvered your body so that he could lean over you and adjust the position, âHere, look now.â He gave you a dopey grin, one that you returned as you leaned forward to peer through the lens again.
When you did, you gasped. Josh had adjusted the telescope so it was focused on the crescent moon, the shadow of it playing against the silver glow.
âItâs a waning crescent. The night was so clear I figured Iâd come out here and see if I could get a good view.â
You turned to give him a smile, surprised at how close he was to you, âWell, Iâd say you got it, itâs beautiful.â
âYeah, it is.â
Stepping away from the telescope, you sat down on a step ladder to let Josh stare into the lens again. While he did, you examined his features in the dim light. He was wearing his blue striped jumpsuit, the one that hugged his waist, and you watched the muscles in his arms flex as he continued to adjust the focus and search the night sky. His sharp jaw clenched in focus, and his lashes fluttered every now and again.
âTake a picture, itâll last longer,â He smirked without looking at you.
Heat rose to your cheeks and you turned away, quickly, âSorry.â
After a beat of silence, Josh turned from the telescope to stare at you.
âAre you scared of me or something, Peach?â
You looked back at him in shock, âScared of you? Of course not.â
âI donât know,â he shrugged, âit just feels like you go out of your way to avoid being around me. I was pretty surprised when you walked through that door instead of one of my brothers or Danny.â
One of the holes in your denim shorts was suddenly very interesting and you picked at the threads, âWeâre just different, is all. Sometimes I donât know how to talk to you.â
âWhat, youâve never heard of opposites attract?â
A blush crept its way across your cheeks again, and you continued to pick at your shorts.
Josh cleared his throat and began to mess with the telescope again, placing the lens cap back and shutting the window it had been pointing out of. âWell, we should probably get back before they send out a search party for the both of us.â He made his way to the door of the shed, lantern in hand, as you stood, and he motioned for you to leave first while he held the door. As you stepped over the threshold, you felt Joshâs warm hand against the small of your back for a brief moment, and you nearly lost your footing.
He closed the door, and the two of set out over the uneven ground towards the house, the swinging lantern in Joshâs hand casting faint shadows as you trudged. The two of you didnât speak as you walked, the silence of the clear night broken only by your crunching footfalls and occasional curse when you kicked a rock or stepped in a hidden hole.
When you began to see the bonfire through the trees, you slipped and your Birkenstock skidded suddenly at on odd angle, twisting your ankle with a sharp wince.
âOh, ouch, fuck!â You hissed, catching your balance with a limp.
Joshâs hand was holding your elbow to keep you upright in an instant, âAre you okay?â
âYeah, yeah,â you breathed against the dull pain thudding up your leg, âjust twisted it. Not exactly the best footwear for a rescue mission.â
He chuckled and guided you to lean against a nearby tree. âLet me have a look.â
âAre you a podiatrist now?â
He placed the lantern on the ground next to him and sent a cheeky smile your way before kneeling on the dead leaves and nettles to gingerly take your foot in his hands. He turned your foot, this way and that, taking note whenever you couldn't hold back a wince. âWell, in my expert opinion, it looks like it might be a slight sprain. Youâve got a couple options. We could look at amputation, but that might be a little excessive, so I suggest elevation and ice.â
âThank you Dr. Kiszka,â you said with an exaggerated breathy tone, âwhatever would I do without you?â
Josh laughed again, the type of giggle that always sent butterflies rioting in your belly, âI donât know, probably die or something.â
You joined in his laughter until he surprised you with a light kiss placed gently to your ankle. You choked.
Josh glanced up at you to gauge your reaction and what he saw in your face apparently gave him the permission he needed to continue. He kissed you again on your shin, then the inside of your knee before rising to his feet and crowding you against the tree. His face was so close to yours that you could see every shift in the hue of his eyes, which were golden in the faint, lantern light. He leaned forward to brush his nose against your own and across your cheek before stopping at your ear.
âIs this okay?â He whispered.
You shivered, struggling to find your voice, âWhy? I mean, yes, it is. But, Iâm a little confused.â
He huffed, amused, his breath fluttering your hair. âYou said you donât know how to talk to me, well I canât figure out how to be around you, either.â
You pulled back in surprise, eyebrows raised as you searched his face and determined he was being sincere.
âNo matter what, I can never figure you out,â Josh continued. âYou keep me on my toes, you challenge me, and itâs so unbelievably hot that I can barely string a sentence together when itâs just you and me.â
Your stomach flipped, and you muttered a breathless, âOh.â
He gave a soft smile, âYeah, âohâ.â
And then he kissed you, and your legs gave out, having nothing to do with your forgotten ankle.
Josh gripped your waist and held you up, pressed against the rough tree bark, as his lips explored your own. Finding your confidence, you swiped your tongue against his bottom lip, relishing itâs softness, and he opened up for you. As your tongues stroked one another, a whine crawled up your throat, and Josh swallowed it with a groan of his own.
âFuck, Peach, the things you do to me,â his lips moved from your mouth and trailed biting kisses along your jaw and down your throat before he found a place at the juncture of your shoulder that had you shaking. You felt his smirk against your skin as he stayed there to mark it with a delicate bruise. He finished his work with a sharp bite, which made you cry out.
âShh,â he pressed a palm to your mouth, smothering your noises. âWe have to be quiet, or do you want my brothers to interrupt us?â
Your eyes flicked towards the bonfire, definitely within earshot, and where you could see Jake still playing his guitar and Sam smoking another blunt. You returned your gaze to Josh and gave a desperate shake of your head.
Under no circumstances did you want to be interrupted.
âYeah,â he removed his hand and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, âI donât want to stop either.â
And he dropped to his knees again, lifting your hoodie to lick against your stomach while he popped the button of your shorts and quickly unzipped them. You lifted your hips from the tree to help him pull them down your legs, panties included, and he was back against your skin, kissing and nipping against your hip bones.
You whined again, and he sent you a sharp look, so you took the collar of your hoodie and bit down on the fabric to muffle yourself. You blinked at Josh, silently asking if that was enough, and he pressed his face to the crease of your thigh, muttering into your skin, âGood girl.â
If you hadnât been wet before, you certainly were, now.
He kissed and nipped up and down your thighs, moving closer and closer to your weeping core before turning again and journeying his lips away from where you needed him most. Your moans became frustrated, and your hands found their way to his curls, tangling and tugging.
âPatience, babygirl, Iâll take care of you. Letâs just enjoy the trip, yeah?â
You nodded, dazed, and he grinned, resuming his teasing. High on your inner thigh, he sucked another hickey, and you could already tell it would be much darker than the one peeking out from your collar. Your hips bucked of their own volition, and Josh gripped them tightly, the force enough to bruise, to keep you still. Your moaning pitched high, and when he was satisfied with the bruise decorating your leg, he finally pressed his mouth, feather light, to your throbbing clit.
You threw your head back, knocking it against the tree, but you couldnât register the pain when you were wholly consumed with the sensation of Joshâs lips moving against your folds as he dipped his tongue into your core.
âYour nickname is perfect,â he groaned against your sensitive skin, âyou taste just like peaches.â
With a harsh tug to his hair, you dropped the fabric from your mouth and through gritted teeth teased, âShut up, liar.â
âYes, maâam,â and he returned to your heat with new fervor, lapping at you with the flat of his tongue before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently, occasionally flicking the point of his tongue against you.
Your arousal skyrocketed, a deep throb pulsing hard in your belly. You could feel your wetness drip down your thighs. Joshâs fingers swiped through your slick, and he brought them to the lanternâs light, turning them so they glistened
âThis all for me?â
Moaning, you confirmed, âEvery last drop.â
Pleased with your answer, he took those same fingers and circled them at your core while his mouth continued its delicious assault against your clit. In tandem with a harsh suck, he entered you with a swift movement and curled his fingers, pressing up against your walls and causing you to cry out again, this time without the material of your hoodie to soften the sound. Neither of you could be bothered as he pumped in and out of you, tongue swiping and curling against your skin.
The sounds of his slick covered fingers entering you and retreating with a building pace were barely covered by both your breaths and moans. You looked down to where your fingers were still tangled in his tickling curls and saw the light reflect off his face where your wetness had covered him. With his unoccupied hand, Josh was palming himself through the cotton of his jumpsuit.
At the sight, a lewd groan escaped your lips which served to encourage Josh, and he added a third finger, the stretch of it eased by how wet you were. His fingers pressed and explored within you, searching for the place that would have you unraveling, and he knew the moment he found it. With a skilled press, your breath caught on a moan and you choked against it as your knees buckled, again, the tree the only thing keeping you up. Josh smiled against your clit before sucking again and continued to assault the spot with his fingers.
The pressure in your belly built quickly, and soon you were scratching your nails against Joshâs scalp, âIâm so fucking close, Josh, fuck. Iâm gonna come!â
âYeah? You gonna cum on my face?â He was panting raggedly, âGive it to me, Peach, you have no idea how bad I want it. Let go, give it to me!â
His final demand was issued in a harsh growl, and you crested your peak with an intensity youâd never felt before. Joshâs name was a chant as it passed your lips in your delirium, punctuated by breathless moans that spiraled up towards the stars.
He worked you through it, removing one of his fingers and stroking you gently, pressing soft, chaste kisses up and around your thighs with whispered praises.
When you caught your breath, you opened your eyes, though you donât know when youâd closed them, and met Joshâs enamored gaze with a dopey grin.
âHi,â you giggled.
He beamed up at you from where he was still on his knees, âHey there, babygirl, how are you feeling?â
âSo good.â
He fully removed his fingers from your core and brought them to his face. With anyone else, you might have been embarrassed by how thoroughly your wetness had covered his hand and dripped down his wrist, but watching him lap it all up with an enthusiasm that you could only describe as Josh had you feeling warm and content.
With a satisfied hum, you pulled Josh to his feet and kissed him thoroughly, tasting the remnants of yourself that heâd just sucked from his fingers. âMy turn?â You asked, eyes heavy lidded.
âWell,â he chuckled, motioning to his lap, âit kind of took care of itself.â Sure enough, there was a wet patch at the front of his jumpsuit, barely visible in the dim light of the lantern still at your feet. âSorry, Peach, hearing and tasting you⌠it couldnât be helped.â
You pressed a gentle kiss to his nose, that had become rosy with a blush, with a smile, âHow about we sneak back to the house and I can help you get cleaned up?â You punctuated your suggestion with a sly wink, and Josh pressed his face into your neck with a groan.
âI donât know if Iâll be able to make it that far,â he laughed.
With Joshâs help, you hiked your panties and denim shorts back over your hips and he picked up the lantern. Hand in hand, the two of you tried to sneak past the other two Kiszkas around the bonfire, quietly shushing one another when you couldnât hold in your giggles.
When you made it to the porch door and started clambering into the house, having successfully evaded Jake and Samâs notice, or so you thought, you heard Jake call out, âNext time, wait until we go inside, please!â
You and Josh nearly collapsed with laughter as you stumbled to the bathroom, eager to continue your rendezvous. You didnât even remember your sprained ankle until the next day when you untangled your legs from Joshâs and stepped onto the floor, falling when it wouldnât hold your weight.
Josh tsked at you, groggily, âI told you, Peach, elevation and ice.â
just wrote a little (smutty) fic in response to an ask i got a while back, yall can expect it later tonight! sorry for the delay, but i appreicate you all who have been sticking with me ive been crazy busy lately and havent been able to get as much writing done as id like<3
