#jmk x reader

11:24. Perfect.

You slip your Blackberry back into your purse, trying your best to ignore the never-ending string of missed phone calls inviting you out for drinks or to brunch tomorrow morning. You don’t care about those people. Fuck, all they want is to use you for your status. You’re hot, you get it. You’d want to end up in the tabloids next to you, too. Get chased by paparazzi all night, end up in the back of a limo with the next Video Vixen popping champagne bottles while Jay-Z blasts from the speakers. All for the thrill. All for the attention. But not enough for you to give them the time of day. 

Anyway, the night is young.

You're already drunk when it really starts. You’d left the party uptown, the vibes less than thrilling. Everyone believing they are too cool to dance, and too bored not to gossip about each other. Now you’re crossing the city toward another one, chasing the next high before this one dares to fade. 

The doorman here doesn't ask your name. He doesn't have to. He just presses the elevator button and steps aside as you glide past him, a hot mess of leopard print and stilettos. The mirrored walls of the elevator catch you from every angle, multiplying your reflection into infinity. A silk slip dress clings to your body, silver in the low light, the lace tracing up your thighs like a ribbon of smoke. An oversized fur coat hangs off your shoulders, acting more as an accessory than providing actual warmth. You don’t need that. That’s what the alcohol is for. 

You pull your red lipstick from your bag and drag it over your lips before topping it off with a layer of glitter gloss. You’ve done this a thousand times, in backseats and bathrooms and hallways that reek of money and lies. Your eyes, glassy and sharp, flicker up to meet your reflection. You smile at yourself, a lazy, dangerous smile. You pull your flask from your bag, tilting up the last bit of it to warm your lips before getting to your destination.

The elevator dings and the doors open into the penthouse where music bleeds from the crowded corridor. It’s some sort of hazy electronic music that is sleek and hypnotic, only adding to the buzz from your three shots of Grey Goose at the last spot. The sound of the bass makes the room seem expensive. Warm golden light spills over the marble floors as laughter and clinking glasses carries through the hall. 

You step out into it all. The noise, the people, the bodies and the heat. You know most of these people, and they know you. You drift through the penthouse doors, the pulse of the music washing over you. The crowd parts almost automatically, some with smiles, and some with annoyance. They’ve seen this all before. The way you move, the way you probably laugh too loud, the way your heels announce your presence. You don’t even have to look around to see who’s watching you. You just know that they are. You can feel it. Every whisper, every sideways glance feeds the need inside you. 

Your father has funded your every whim. It’s as if Manhattan itself bends in your presence, but tonight, it feels like you’ve earned the attention yourself. The space, the eyes, the fascination. 

The penthouse is a jungle of velvet and chrome and warm lighting. Champagne sweats in crystal flutes as laughter bounces off the high ceilings. Some wannabe socialite bumps into your arm, barely apologizing, and still you smile. Your coat slips off your shoulders, now falling to your elbows, revealing more silk than should be legal. You can feel the new eyes on you, and you love it.  

Yet, there is still a sliver of emptiness inside you. You’ve been to enough parties to know this game. Everyone is performing. Everyone is pretending, and you’re the only one allowed to forget. To feel. Only it’s not a feeling. It's the haze of someone who’s never wanted for anything until right now. 

As you pull a glass of bubbly from the table, someone brushes past and murmurs something that meant to hurt you. You don’t hear it clearly, but your body tenses before your brain catches up. A sarcastic laugh leaves your lips. 

“Careful,” you warn, “I bite when provoked.”

And maybe you do. Maybe tonight is going to be the night that everyone realizes that the pretty girl in the silk and fur is untouchable. Or maybe she's just a mess. Either way, it doesn't matter. This city is cold and huge and the music is heavy, and you’re alive in a way that feels dangerously good. 

You weave through the crowd with your crystal flute raised, smiles thrown around carelessly with words that are half mean and half flirty. The adrenaline of the alcohol is sharpening your movements in a way that makes you feel lethal. You glance down at the champagne in your hand and take a sip, letting it burn all the way down. You're dizzy, sure, but steady enough. For now anyway.

You’re here for something special, and like magic it appears. You spot him near the balcony, leaning against the railing like he owns the place, though both of you know he doesn't. A quick glance around tells you no one is paying attention right now, and that's exactly what you want. 

“Bradley,” you purr, sliding your hand into his arm as you brush past. “Bathroom?”

He grins, a cocky smile plastered to his face as he nods. “You know the way.”

The hallway is dim, the thrum of the bass fading behind you as you slip past the velvet ropes and a few drunk party goers. The bathroom door closes with a solid click, shutting out the noise and chaos behind it. Inside it’s tight, nearly suffocating in a messed up luxurious way. Marble counters and chrome fixtures, the faint metallic scent of an expensive cleaning service. 

After making sure you’re alone, you shrug off your coat, letting it fall to the floor. Your dress clings to you and you're mildly aware of how the fabric feels against your skin. Barely there. 

Bradley quickly produces a mirror and a line. Your heart beats fast, more from thrill than anything. He supplies you with a rolled hundred and you bend over, inhale sharply, and then it hits. A spark behind your eyes, the shiver that runs down your spine, the room growing sharper. You lean back against the counter, letting the heat run through you and for a few seconds you feel absolutely in control.

“Fuck, you look good, Y/N,” he murmurs, voice low. 

You smirk, brushing your damp hair away from your forehead. “That’s the whole point.”

He laughs, leaning in close. You catch the faintest whiff of his cologne and you bite your lip, pretending you don't feel the tension between the two of you tightening. 

“Don’t get too crazy,” he teases. “Get back out there, or you’ll ruin all the fun.”

“Mmm,” you reply, running your hands under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. “Isn’t that sometimes the point?”

He laughs, his hands resting on your hips. “God, you really think you’re irresistible, don’t you?”

You lean in close, letting your black painted nails gently rake along his exposed chest. “No baby, I know I am.”

You laugh a little too loud and back away from him with a wink, smoothing your dress back into place. You grab your coat, placing it low on your arms. You pull your lipstick from your purse again and check your nose in the mirror, making sure the evidence is long gone. The rush from the bump mixes with the alcohol and suddenly you feel infinite. As if the penthouse, the city, even the night itself exists just for your enjoyment. 

“You’re impossible, Y/N,” Bradley sighs, adjusting himself in his pants.

“You worry too much B,” you say, sliding past him toward the door. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

The hallway swallows you again. You pull your fur back over your shoulders, letting it sway with each step. You step back onto the penthouse floor, your heels clicking against the marble floors. Faces turn and whispers ripple through the crowd, soft at first but growing louder. There she is, look at her. God she's always like this. How sad. You smile and let them talk. These people have watched your entire life play out in magazines, on TMZ, and in the murmurings of every bored rich housewife who thinks they matter in this city. 

A waiter approaches with another tray of champagne flutes. You take one, swirling the bubbles and letting them spill over the rim of the glass. 

“Careful princess…”

The remark comes from Georgia Bingham Kerry, a fellow heiress, finding her fortune in the Heinz company. You laugh softly, definitely loud enough for her to hear as you twirl your glass more. 

“Careful? Doesn’t sound like me,” you quip. 

She scoffs, “Maybe if you tried–”

“Maybe if I tried what?” you cut her off with a tilt of your head. “Being like you? Sad? Miserable? Boring?”

You flick your wrist and champagne flies through the air, landing perfectly on her last season Dior pumps. Gasps fill the room and Bradley steps back, wide-eyed. 

“Y/N! What the fuck? Calm down!” he shouts in panic. 

“Calm down?” you repeat, your voice rising. 

Your adrenaline is pumping, the bump from earlier still tingling along your spine. You move toward the balcony, brushing past a waiter who raises a hand in protest. “Maybe–”

“Maybe not!” you snap, spinning on your heel, silk and fur flying. 

And then, someone, a dumb, drunk older man, dares to whisper loud enough for you to hear. She’s ruining the night again. What a surprise.

Red flares in your chest. You lunge, shoving at him lightly at first, just enough to make your anger palpable. He stumbles back, startled, and the world shifts. Your elbow catches the edge of a nearby pedestal holding a piece of art. A sculpture you recognize as worth more than most of the partygoers’ yearly salaries. It teeters, then crashes to the floor in a shower of glass and twisted metal.

Gasps ripple across the room. Security freezes, shocked. Someone yells. Champagne flutes topple as the crowd parts, staring. You laugh. A high, jagged laugh, and look down at the ruin beneath your feet. It should sting. It should scare you. But the rush of it all, the bump still humming through your veins, the chaos…it makes your heart beat faster, makes you feel alive.

You push past a waiter who steps in to block you leaving, your fur coat slipping from your shoulders. The music feels distant now, replaced by whispers, sharp words slicing through the gilded air. 

And then the sound you knew was coming. A door banging open, sirens slicing through the low hum of the party. Red and blue lights wash over marble, over broken glass, over the silk clinging to your skin.

Suddenly cold metal bites down on your wrists. You laugh, breathless, somewhere between too aware and not aware enough. Handcuffs. 

“Oh this is rich,” you bite. “Really, this is rich.”

“Ma’am, if you just cooperate, this will be a lot easier on us all,” the officer bites nonchalantly after reciting your rights.

“I am cooperating,” you slur, your hair falling over your face. You’re nearly bent over the hood of the police car before you realize the crowd gathering around you. You take the opportunity, putting on a photo-worthy face before turning back toward the officer. “Actually could you maybe tighten them? Would make it a little more fun for me…”

The officer scoffs and pulls you by your arms to stand again. 

Paparazzi outside on the sidewalk fire relentlessly, capturing you in your barely there dress, everything nearly exposed forever in permanent pixels. The back of a police car swallows you whole. Darkness presses in, and the city that was so alive just for you merely moments ago, disappears completely. 

Happy fucking New Year.

—

It’s not the sweet smell of coffee brewing or the hand of last night’s hookup gently caressing you awake, but instead, it’s the shrill beeping of your Blackberry relentlessly buzzing on your nightstand. Your eyes open, one then the other, still thick and crusted with last night’s eyeliner and glitter mascara. You pull up on your elbows, glancing at the digital clock on the table. “Only fucking noon…” you mutter, rolling over to your back to punch a fist to your phone to shut it up.

You lie on your back in the pool of bright white down comforters and feather pillows, wishing like hell that you could just stay here all day. But you’ve never been one to be stationary, and your tired muscles are already begging you to get up. 

Sunlight slices through the floor-to-ceiling windows of your Manhattan apartment, sharp and cold against your skin, catching in the crystal of your chandelier before scattering across the marble floors. Your head pounds in rhythm with some distant echo of bass from last night, every heartbeat a reminder of the alcohol swirling in your veins that’s sure to bring a day-long migraine. Your dress is still clinging to you, the fabric twisted tightly around your body. The fur coat you abandoned last night is somewhere in a corner, limp and lifeless. 

Your wrists ache, tender and raw. You lift your hands to them, squinting at the faint impressions of the metal that haven't quite faded yet. Flashes of the night crawl in snippets through your mind. The drugs, the alcohol, the sculpture, the flash of cameras and the cops cuffing you. You swallow, throat dry, and groan, dragging yourself off the bed to wobble out of bed.

Your phone continues to buzz, friends sending text after text alerting you of the occurrences of last night. Pixelated photos of tabloids fly in, one after the other.

‘Heiress Arrested Before Clock Could Strike 12’

‘New Year, New Her? Not This Time’

‘Drunk & Disorderly - Hello 2004’

“Boo-fucking-hoo, the melodrama,” you groan in disappointment, but it doesn’t linger long. This is the life you have chosen, and you’re not going to change. You toss your phone into your purse that thankfully made it home with you before meandering, slowly, out into your living room.

Your apartment is nearly a study in luxury. Marble everywhere, the floor, counters, even the window sills. The faint aroma of your Christian Dior perfume lingers in the air, mixed with the bitter tang of spilled alcohol and wasted cigarettes, as the city streets below crawl with taxis. The windows stretch across the living room, revealing Manhattan in all of its frozen glory. Plush rugs and velvet chairs are scattered around and somewhere, a crystal vase leans just slightly against a wall, evidence of a rowdy evening. 

Then, the quiet is broken. Your father is there, sitting on the couch with the same cold precision he's always had. He’s impeccably dressed, of course, and his eyes are calculating and sharp, burning with what you know is anger. You freeze.

“Morning, Daddy,” you mumble, your voice rough as you head for the coffee pot.

He doesn't smile. “Morning?” His tone is pure venom. “Do you have any idea the chaos you caused last night?”

“Oh my god, don’t overreact,” you snap, “It was a party Dad. People spill things, yell, and get drunk. That’s just…life.”

“No, this is not life. This is reckless, dangerous, and humiliating. I am done cleaning up your messes.” His eyes bore into yours. “Do you know you destroyed a $3 million piece of art last night?”

You shrug. “They shouldn’t have had something so expensive just out there in the open.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I spent last night bailing you out of jail instead of ringing in the New Year. And I’ve spent the entire morning paying off reporters, and buying images to protect this family. I have had enough. You are twenty-three years old, Y/N. I am going to give you one last chance. One last chance to straighten up, or–” he pauses, “You are out. No more apartment, no more money, no more connections. You make one more headline, cause one more…disaster, and you’re on your own. No questions asked.”

Your stomach drops. “You’re bluffing.”

“I am not,” he says coldly, “You’re an adult now. I have been lenient long enough. Either you start behaving or you deal with the consequences yourself. This stops now. And I mean right now, young lady.”

“Stops?” you huff, throwing your arms out.”I’m an heiress, Daddy, you can’t just take my entire life away–”

“I can. And I will, if you don’t clean up this act. No more discussion. It stops.”

You huff, crossing your arms as you pout. “And how exactly do you plan to stop me?”

He shakes his head and lifts his cellphone to his ear. “Send him in.”

The click of your apartment door unlocks a new tension in your chest, then a man enters. Calm, deliberate, and impossibly composed. His navy blue suit perfectly tailored, his long brown hair pulled tightly back into a slick bun, his eyes sharp as he scans the room, before locking on you. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you demand, tilting your head to the side. 

“This is Jacob,” your father says. “Your bodyguard. Effective immediately.”

“Excuse me?!” you shout, your voice echoing off the marble flooring. 

“Since you insist upon acting like a child, he will treat you like one. Every move you make will now be monitored. Nothing happens without him, and nothing goes unreported,” he continues. 

“Oh my god, just what I always wanted, my own hall monitor,” you scoff. 

Jacob steps forward slightly, and for the first time you get a real look at him. His eyes are unreadable, dark, steady and detached. He doesn't flinch at your tone, he doesn't even bother to glance at your bare legs or the way the strap of your dress is slipping from your shoulder. 

“I will report directly to your father, Miss Y/N,” he says, the tone of his voice unreadable. But you have to admit, the way he says your name makes your stomach cave for a split second.

Your eyes narrow, ignoring the feeling. “Is that so?”

He nods once, “I take my job very seriously.”

Your pulse spikes, “You think you get to just walk into my apartment and start bossing me around?” 

“I don’t think.” He takes a deliberate step closer, close enough for you to catch the faint trace of his cologne. “I know.”

You roll your eyes, attempting nonchalance, though something in your chest tightens. “You’re what– just going to follow me around everywhere? Stand outside bathroom doors? Guard my champagne glass? Daddy, this is so ridiculous!”

“If that's what it takes to keep you from doing something reckless,” the man says evenly, “Then yes.”

Your father’s phone buzzes with a call. He glances at the screen and sighs, already halfway out the door. “Jacob, I’ll leave her to you. Make sure she sobers up. We will discuss the rest later today. No drugs.”

“Dad–” you start, but he's already gone. The click of the door feels…final. 

The silence that follows stretches heavy, nearly suffocating you. Jacob doesn't move from where he’s standing. His hands are tied neatly behind his back, and his gaze is unflinching. He is still, just watching you. 

You exhale a shaky laugh, “So now what, babysitter?”

“You can start,” he says, voice firm, “by sitting down.”

You lift a brow, “Excuse me?”

“Sit. Down.”

Something about the way he says it makes you obey before you realize it. You perch on the edge of your leather couch, seething as you cross your legs and arms. 

He studies you for a moment, then pulls out his phone and types something. Probably reporting back already. 

You lean forward, your voice like honey. “You know,” you say, tugging your dress up just a little more, exposing more of your bare thigh, “most men would kill to be in your position.”

He finally looks up from his blackberry, eyes flicking briefly over you, not lingering, just assessing, and somehow that almost feels worse. 

“I’m not most men.”

“Clearly,” you mutter, “You hate fun.”

He gives a faint, humourless smile, “I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to make sure you don't ruin your life or your father’s, before lunch.”

Your throat goes dry, “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Not yet,” he slides his phone back into his pocket. “But I will.”

There’s authority in the way he says it, so certain, that it leaves you almost speechless. 

You finally find your voice, almost yelling now, “You can’t just– watch me… Follow me around and control me.”

His eyes meet yours cold, and sharp as a blade. “I can. And I will. That's what you’ve been reduced to, princess. Observation.”

The words hit like a slap. You stand quickly, jaw tight, desperate to reclaim some power in this situation. “You’re insane. You and my father. You’re like a fucking robot or something.”

He doesn't blink, “And you’re a liability.”

For a moment you just stare at each other, your pulse racing. For the first time in your life, someone doesn't flinch when you raise your voice. Doesn't shrink under your anger. Doesn't care who you are or what you have. 

And that alone is enough to terrify you. 

Jake steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he watches you scowl at him. “Your purse,” he says, voice low and steady. “Bring it here.”

You stare at him like he's lost his mind. “What?”

He holds his hand out, wiggling his middle two fingers. “Your purse. Now.”

You raise a brow, tilting your head, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “And what? You going to check it for contraband?”

He doesn't flinch, “Exactly that,” he says calmly. “Give it to me.”

You scoff, fumbling slightly with your hands and you go and grab it from the chair it ended up on last night. “This is out of control.”

He takes it from you in one smooth motion, flipping it open as if he is inspecting evidence. His eyes sweep over the contents as he dumps it out onto the marble countertop. A small bag of powder, a pack of cigarettes, two tubes of lipstick, a lip gloss, a pack of Orbit gum, your phone, and a bottle of Xanax. His eyes lift to yours slowly. 

“You do realize none of this is safe, right?” his tone is pointed. 

“Uh– it’s prescribed,” you lie, trying to mask your panic. “My doctor–”

He cuts you off, voice calm but sharp as glass. “What doctor, exactly?”

You stammer, making up a name that even feels fake as you say it out loud. He arches one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I–uh–I mean, it’s–”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I don’t buy it. Say goodbye.”

Your stomach twists. “You can’t just– give that back!” you shout.

“I just did,” he says, “Consider it gone.”

Your hands fly towards him, “No! Give it–”

His hand closes around your wrist. Firm and unyielding. You should pull away, but the warmth of his skin sears into yours. Your breath catches for reasons you refuse to name.

“No,” he says, “You will not touch this again. Do you understand me?”

You yank at your wrist, frustrated. “You’re insane! This is my life! You can’t just take–”

“I did,” he interrupts, “And you’re going to learn to deal with it. You need boundaries. It is clear to me that you have none.”

“Boundaries?!” you scoff. 

He steps closer, and suddenly the small space between you feels electric. “Yes. Boundaries. Rules. Limits. Call them whatever you want, sweetheart. You don’t run your life anymore. I do.”

You flare your nostrils, trying to sound believable. “And if I refuse?”

“Do you want to find out?” he says softly, almost mocking. As if he is daring you to push him further. 

Your eyes narrow as you press your lips together. 

“I’m here to make sure you don’t humiliate yourself or your father, ever again.”

You snatch your Blackberry off the counter. “Fine, but I’m keeping this!”

He slides his hand around yours as you reach for it, smooth and fast, and lifts the phone. “Wait,” he says, dialing a number and letting the phone ring once before hanging up. His phone buzzes in his pocket and you realize he’s called himself. “I’ll keep your line active. For now. Don’t make me regret it.”

You yank the phone back, storming to your bedroom. “You can’t do this to me! I am a grown adult!”

“Watch me,” he says, simply, letting his words land like a punch. 

You snarl, glaring at him as you realize that you’re losing grip on your own life.

“You’re angry,” he says, “Good. You should be. You need someone who won’t let you continue to make mistakes. I am that someone.”

You spin, storming down the hallway to your bedroom. “I’m going to shower, asshole! You gonna follow me in there too?”

His lips twitch, but he doesn't answer. You slam your bedroom door with a hard satisfying rattle, the sound echoing through the spacious apartment. And behind that door your chest heaves, your pulse racing. Your fingers tremble with a mix of fury, fear and something else that shakes you to your core. 

Something you’ve never felt with anyone before now.

And the worst part is that it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels inevitable.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Join The Taglist

The cold weather couldn’t keep you from the woods. No amount of crunchy leaves stacked on the old mossy ground or mud puddles too big to walk around. Nothing. Nested deep in the woods resides a little cabin that you’d stumbled upon one day after school. It was a therapy day, you remember because you wore blue. Blue was for therapy days because therapy makes you sad, and blue is a sad color.

Fact, not opinion.

The little cabin in the woods made the blue days feel not so blue when the orange boy appeared.

When you first met, his hair was getting quite long, the loose waves bouncing around just under his ears. His hair wasn’t like that for long, he’d eventually get it cut, a neat mop of curls resting over his forehead. His voice got deeper, muscles got stronger, hair got curlier, but he still remained orange. Not physically, more so in the way he spoke and gestured. While not typically complimentary, he was the orange your blue needed, and you paired quite nicely.

In fact, the two of you paired so well that you never once bothered asking one another why they were in the woods that day. It felt right. Like all of the blue days led you here. The cabin is brown, physically, but feels yellow. Happy, warm, inviting. Outside the cabin is one giant tree, the tree you’d met Josh under. He was quiet at first, his breath being the only thing to give him away. Quiet didn’t last long, though. He’d grow to talk your ear off every chance he got, and you welcomed his words with open arms.

You hadn’t seen Josh in exactly one week. Something about needing to prepare something for you, a surprise if you will, and to meet him under the tree where you met him in seven days. So you waited impatiently for the longest, bluest seven days to pass without your complimentary person. It was surprising how unprescribed blue days could feel particularly blue. Blue was meant for therapy days. Dismal, a buzzing in your ears surrounding the thought of those grey walls, scratchy carpet and the chair that squeaks every time Dr. Tannis shifts his weight. That’s what blue was meant for, so you tried to fill the days with shades of orange and yellow that reminded you of Josh.

When the seven days were up, you found yourself barreling through the house after school, just to be stopped in your tracks by Mom.

“Honey, please don’t forget you said you’d take your sister trick-or-treating tonight.” Mom sighs as she releases her hold on your shoulders.

“But-”

“No ‘buts,’ Y/n.”

“But I have to go see Josh.” Your eyes widen at the name. You know better.

“Y/n…” Mom closes her eyes and tilts her head back. She was red, metaphorically. The heat and anger couldn’t be seen but it could be felt, and it was burning red.

“I’m sorry,” You sulk, your head falling between your shoulders.

“Please go get ready and make sure your sister is, too.” She tries forcing a smile across her lips, but the forced yellow couldn’t deceive red.

For the third consecutive year, you chose to be a vampire. The costumes were getting better, why choose a different thing when you could continue improving? You lean into the mirror, fanning your teeth to try and help the fangs stick. Your attention is directed elsewhere as you overhear Mom on the phone in the kitchen. Your eyes flutter shut as you hone in on her words, laced with blue-grey.

“She’s mentioning Josh again. I thought that had been discussed during her sessions.”

You don’t mean to listen, but if it weren’t meant to be heard, maybe she’d stop using speaker phone.

“It has been touched on, yes, but-”

“She is well past the age of imaginary friends, Dr. Tannis. Her entire life cannot evolve around the existence of someone who just… doesn’t exist.”

Doesn’t exist?

“Y/n, I think we need to backtrack just a little.” Dr. Tannis sighed as he sat down. He seemed to be paying more attention to the squeak, but the noise still left faint blue raspberry on your tongue.

“Well, Doc, I am an open book!” You leaned back in the chair as you popped a grape Jolly Rancher in your mouth.

“That is sort of the issue, Y/n. You’re not open about anything. We need to start working through what happened.” He clicked his pen before bringing his elbow to the desk and hand to his temple.

“I don’t remember. It’s like one day I was just riding my bike in the woods and everything turned black…”

“Is that physical or metaphorical?” Dr. Tannis raised an eyebrow. He might not understand the colors, but at least he tried.

“Physical black. And then the hospital and then I met you.”

“Do you blame yourself?” He looked up from his notepad, leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs.

“What?” Your heart began racing, on the brink of a panic attack. “B-blame myself for what?”

Were you supposed to blame yourself?

“The accident, Y/n. It’s common for a patient to blame themselves, especially if there’s no other explanation.”

“Uh- sometimes? I don’t know.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to recall what happened. When you opened them, Dr. Tannis was scribbling on the notepad again. You caught some of what he jotted down, nonsense upon nonsense of how he thinks you feel.

“Why don’t we just move on? You’ve mentioned your hatred-”

“Distaste.” You corrected. Josh had changed that, you didn’t hate anything.

“Right, sorry, distaste for blue raspberry several times. Where does that come from? Can you remember when that started, Y/n?”

“I think it’s what the darkness tasted like. Kind of… metallic and cold.”

“Is the darkness where you created Josh? Could he be just a thought?”

God. You couldn’t have created Josh had your life depended on it. You’re not convinced a higher being could have either.

“W-created?! I didn’t create Josh! I met Josh! In real life!”

“Your mother’s mentioned never having met Josh. You’ve never attended school with him and you met after the… incident. Why do you think that is?”

“I already said-” Your words became very red, unlike you. You pressed your lips shut and took a deep breath before restarting. “He’s just not ready to meet new people yet.”

“Y/n, I think she’s worried about, well, if he’s real or not.”

“Mom’s crazy, Dr. Tannis. Of course Josh is real.” You swivel in the chair side to side, snapping Legos together as you sucked on another grape Jolly Rancher.

Finally, something where the taste matched the color.

”Does he exist here…” Dr. Tannis waved his arms around the room, “Or here?” He asked, tapping your temple. The chair squeaked as he leaned forward, causing you to wince. That damn squeak always tastes like sheet metal and a hint of wet dirt.

“Here!” You exclaimed, waving your hands around the room. “And if he didn’t, I’d do whatever it took to be wherever he was.”

“Y/n, as we know you’ve struggled in the past with… Ideations, we call them. I need to make sure that’s not the case.” His eyes grew worried as he tried studying you for answers.

“I wouldn’t do that.” You said pointedly. Your death would mean Josh no longer having someone there for him, alongside you not having him. That simply wouldn’t do. A deep sigh escapes your lips before you attempt to divert the conversation.

“I hug him every time I see him. We’ve… done some things… I know he’s real.”

“Done some-” His eyes widened, cheeks growing flush as the admission slipped your lips.

“Just kiss! We’ve only kissed.”

Dr. Tannis wore a furrowed brow and an expression that was almost eager for answers. Almost like he knew you were lying. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell him you and Josh had been having sex. That would have only caused more problems. The last thing you needed was more problems.

“And how did that make you feel, Y/n?” Dr. Tannis leaned forward in his chair, pressing his pen to the notepad.

“Purple and white.” You responded confidently. Purple and white, that’s how his lips felt against yours each time. His lips remind you of rose petals, the silky innocence of a flower and sweetness of nectar.

“Words, Y/n. I need… emotions, not colors.”

You hate that Dr. Tannis can’t understand you almost as much as you hate nobody believing Josh is real. You chose silence. There was no way to describe his honey coated, purple-white, rose petal lips in a way other than that. Dr. Tannis wasn’t necessarily accepting of the silence but knew he needed to utilize the rest of the time appropriately.

“Y/n, I think a-”

“Could you not use my name so much? It makes me all blue-grey.”

“Right, sorry.” Dr. Tannis clears his throat. “If he’s real, I think a conversation with Josh about meeting your mother would be good.”

“He is real.”

He’s real.

It’s not that you wanted to hide Josh. If you had it your way, you’d share his orange smile and warm embrace with anyone you knew. But he couldn’t go far. While neither of you disclosed how you ended up under that tree, Josh had opened up enough about his home for you to understand. Black and red. It was angry there, way worse than your blue.

You push yourself away from the mirror, holding back the tears that threaten your lash line.

“Not real.”

Who does she think she is?

Once Mom had learned about Josh, she began taking mental note of when you left and how long you were gone. You couldn’t sleep anyways, so you started sneaking out at night to see Josh at the cabin.

“Screw trick-or-treat.” You mumble to yourself as you grab your backpack, making way to your window. You scan over your room, a sense of blue-red and a tinge of black, washing over you. Semi-content with its look, you climb out of the window.

The ground is wet, mushy under your feet as you stomp through the tall, unkempt grass of the woods. The rain couldn’t keep you from Josh. Nothing could. Not trick-or-treat, not blue days or the squeaky chair, not the feeling of blue-black that washed over at the sight of certain things. No other color mattered when you knew orange would always be on the other side.

The rain turns to mist as you walk under the trees, the full moon peeking through just enough to wash the green in blue, physically. It’s silent outside of your feet squishing the wet ground and your backpack shuffling behind you, stuffed with handfuls of the candy Mom specifically said was for the trick-or-treaters. Josh likes Reese’s and BlowPops, so you saw no harm in bringing him some. Blue raspberry and cherry are his favorite. They were yours, too, but not until you tasted them on his rose petal lips. Blue raspberry reminds you of a memory you’ve never been quite able to recall, maybe that’s why therapy days were blue.

You shake your head at the thought of blue raspberry. Thinking of blue days and the squeaky chair would only ruin the orange. The cabin’s in sight and dimly lit, seemingly occupied. Unable to see him, you know he’s in there. You can feel his existence just beyond the trees.

You stand under the tree, back awkwardly against the thick, damp trunk so as to not crush the Reese’s and BlowPops. You run your hand over the carved initials in the bark, remembering the day you and Josh had placed it there. The first time you ever kissed him. The rain is slowly picking up again and you find yourself almost getting lost in the whispers of the wind against leaves.

Perhaps the wind works with the trees to tell us things, but we don’t hear. Maybe the wind doesn’t want to be heard, but rather it wants to be listened to.

Waiting begins to grow so boring you try to understand. Understand what the trees are saying. Understand what caused your original distaste for blue, both flavor and color. Every time you try to think, you find yourself unable to understand. You can never recall a time before the grey walls, scratchy carpets and squeaky chair. God how you hate that chair. It’s been years and yet he hasn’t gotten a new one.

Wait by the tree.

Wait by the tree.

Wait by the tree.

He’d specifically instructed you to meet him here, under the tree you met him years ago. Notoriously late, he wouldn’t be this late, making you lose hope. You start to deep breathe in attempts to avoid the orange becoming red. One foot slowly found its way in front of the other as you walked away from the lone standing tree into the sea of physical green. Just slow enough to keep waiting.

Waiting… Waiting…

“Wait!” His voice rang through the night time in a shade of yellow only he could embody, not the same as the cabin.

“Josh?” You turn to see him standing under the tree, leaning against the trunk. His chest is heaving as he fights for air.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought I had more time. They wouldn’t let me go.”

His parents. The definition of darkness personified. Every bad color couldn’t make them up. Black and red swirled and married in a nasty mixture was surely the reason he found solace in the cabin.

Even under the night sky he radiates orange. His rose petal, purple-white lips and beautiful brown doe eyes glisten in the moonlight. Breathtaking. Hauntingly beautiful. All of the good colors melted down like crayons to create him.

Josh doesn’t move, instead he stands and waits for your feet to make their way to him. Like a magnet, you’re drawn to him, wrapping yourself in his warmth almost as fast as it had appeared.

“Mm,” You hum into his chest, your fingers grasping the back of his sweater. “Smell so… so good…”

It wasn’t unusual that he smells good, but he does smell different. Like the summer sun beating down on a field of wildflowers, and hints of honeysuckle covered in morning dew. He smells earthy but in a way that’s good. You pull away from his chest and look up at his face.

“Fangs.” He nods and taps his fingernail against the fake tooth that sticks out from your lips.

“They’re kinda silly, aren’t they?” You bring your fingers to your mouth and pop the two fake fangs off of your teeth, discarding them into the front pocket of your hoodie.

“They were cute.” He frowns, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he guides you a few feet to the cabin. “I missed you, like a lot.”

“You, sir,” You say, pressing your finger into his chest. “You’re the one who asked for seven days.”

“I know, I know. I just needed time to clean this place up. Make it special, ya know?” Josh opens the door to the cabin. It’s clean. For the longest time a thick coating of dust rested on every surface you had yet to touch, the impressions where the two of you would sit being the only clean spot. All of the physical grey is gone. The cabin feels more yellow now than it ever has before.

“Oh! I have something for you, too.” You smile and nod, pulling your backpack off your shoulders. Josh watches with a crooked head, his eyes narrowing. “Hold out your hands.” You instruct as you dig through your bag.

“Is it gonna bite?” He jokes.

“I hope not,” You reply, placing a handful of Reese’s and BlowPops into his large palm.

“Is this your way of telling me you want a kiss?” He teases, twirling a blue raspberry BlowPop between his fingers. You watch as he stuffs the other candy into his pocket before removing the wrapper on the BlowPop and pushing it past his rose petal lips. The only time blue looked and tasted good was when it was on his tongue.

It was no secret you’d thought about him in… that… way a handful of times before ever getting to be with him. Granted more so after the fact, and right now more than ever. The way his fingers felt against your lips earlier and watching his tongue work around the BlowPop did not make it better.

“Josh?” You whisper just loud enough for him to hear as you close the space between your bodies.

“Yes?”

So many things you want, need, to say evade you. So many pandora's boxes that you don’t want to open.

“I just missed you. Seven blue days was too long.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I missed you too, mamas.”

You wrap your arms around his torso once again, melting into his existence. You wish you could physically melt into him so you never had to be apart. Time away from him was always blue-black. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know, he always knows what you’re thinking.

“I thought you were going trick-or-treating today.” Josh brings a hand up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers massaging your scalp. His voice echoes through his chest, deep and strong.

“S’posed to,” You mumble.

“Well, what happened? Talk to me.”

Mom doesn’t think you’re real.

Dr. Tannis doesn’t think you’re real.

Nobody thinks you're real so I ran away.

“I, uh, I guess I just missed you too much.”

“You know I can tell when you’re fibbing, right?” He pulls away, looking into your face as he tries reading you. He brings a hand to cradle your face, his thumb smoothing across your cheek. “It’s your favorite holiday.”

“I hate when you do that.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. The softer he gets, the more willing you are to spill your guts, he knew that.

“Well I hate when you do that. Don’t put the walls up, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“What are you, my therapist?”

“I can be. I think talking to someone who understands you would be more beneficial than Mr. Squeaky Chair.” Josh guides you over to lay on the old couch, the only piece of furniture that existed in the cabin yet you always sat on the floor.

“Aren’t we too old for this?” You choke out.

“Too old for what?”

“This. We hide away in an abandoned cabin and make out like horny middle schoolers. And my mom thinks one of us isn’t real.”

“Do you not like that?” He looks nervous as he asks, picking at skin on the sides of his thumbs.

“Well, I like making out with you,”

“But?”

“Everyone thinks you’re not real. And I’d like for them to know you’re real so I could make out with you in my bedroom instead. Have sex on a bed like normal people. I dunno.”

Something in the air shifts. The yellow-orange-sunshine is slowly engulfed by red-blue-black metaphorical darkness.

“We can’t do that.” Josh sighs and kneels down beside the couch, bringing his hand to hold yours. The warmth that always exists in his palms felt almost absent.

“Why not, Josh? Why can’t we be normal?”

“I haven’t been honest.” He swallows harshly. You wince as he moves his hand down to rest on your knee.

“Oh great, you have a girlfriend who goes to my college and-”

“No, not a girlfriend, or boyfriend or anything like that.” He rubs his hand up and down your thigh, trying to soothe the nerves he can sense tensing. Electric couldn’t begin to explain the way his fingers feel dragging across your clothed skin.

“Is it your parents?” You sit up and pat the couch next to you for him to sit.

“Not them, no.” He brings himself to his feet before sitting beside you, removing the BlowPop from his mouth. He places the half eaten lollipop on the window sill behind the couch before bringing his hand to cup your jaw. “Y/n, can you kiss me?”

“Josh…”

“Please? Before I say anything, please just kiss me.”

“Josh,”

Could it be that bad?

You shake the feeling, giving into your temptations as you press your lips to Josh’s. Your tongue explores his until the flavor of blue raspberry is nonexistent. Your fingers grasp at his hair, the feeling of his curls helping ground you. As soon as you pull away, you find yourself returning for more regardless of the flavor being long gone from his tender lips. Josh’s hands begin snaking up the front of your hoodie, his fingertips dancing along your sides. His hands against your bare skin feels like oil paints on a canvas, gliding smoothly and perfectly around every edge and detail at the mercy of the artist. Josh’s lips trail down your neck, nipping and biting at the supple skin on your throat, earning a soft moan.

Your hands can’t help themselves, smoothing down the front of his sweater and onto his lap. His length is growing prominent beneath his jeans. Josh follows your lead, his fingers tracing under the waistband of your leggings before pulling you onto his lap.

It isn’t long before you’re pushing your hips into his, rolling methodically against his length as he continues kissing across the expanse of your skin. Josh places his hands on your hips and pushes you down, your center resting over his thigh as your leg slots between his. His hands guide your hips back and forth as you grind your core against his thigh, pressing you firmly down onto him.

One of his hands slowly drags up your side before resting under your chin, raising your face to look at him. He likes to be watched, to be seen, just as much as he likes watching you. Your eyes meet his, warm and golden like summer honey.

“You’re so pretty,” You huff out, still grinding against him. Josh moves his hand to cradle the back of your neck, drawing your lips closer to his.

“Uh-uh. You’re pretty, my baby,” He trails off, pressing his rosey lips against yours. A warm, sweet taste grows the longer he’s there, your heartbeat in places you didn't know it could be. You bring one hand from his shoulder to the back of his head, your fingers nestling deep in his brown curls as you push him closer.

No word can even begin to explain how he’s got you. Josh’s hands work between your bodies, undoing his pants as you continue rubbing against him, a giggle escaping his lips.

“What’s so funny?” You ask defensively, slowing your motions.

“My knee is soaked,” He smirks as he dips his hand past his boxers, not so subtly stroking himself.

“Oh…”

“Is this okay? We don’t-”

“No, I do!” You shout desperately, lifting from his thigh to push your pants past the wide of your ass down until they sit at your ankles. You hover over his length, pulling his boxers down before sitting him at your entrance.

“I’m quite fond of you.” He whispers and looks up, peeling his eyes away from where your bodies are about to connect. The man who loves to watch himself wasn’t watching.

“I’m fond of you, too, Josh.”

“Like a lot, Y/n, and I’m worried about messing this up.”

“You won’t.” You assure him, sinking down onto his length. You hiss at the feeling of him inside, no matter how many times you find yourselves in this situation, it always feels brand new. You fall forward, melting into Josh’s chest as he brings his arms around you with his face tucked in the crook of your neck. His lips find a home sucking a hot trail of marks up and down the side of your neck, reaching his hands down to rid you of your shoes and bottoms.

Josh gently thrusts his hips up, fucking into you slowly, making you feel every inch of his thick cock in your hungry core. Euphoria courses through your veins in times like this, a sparkly, pink goodness that seemingly takes hold of you. Buried deep inside, he holds you down on his length as he readjusts your bodies, laying you across the couch with him above you. He places his hands on the bottom hem of his shirt and hoodie, lifting them over his head to expose his chest. You reach a hand forward and lay it over his heart, pinching your eyebrows together in confusion when you don’t feel a beat.

“You okay?” Josh asks, bringing his hands to the backs of your thighs and pushing them into your chest, allowing him to sink into you deeper.

“Uh-huh,” You gasp and nod as Josh brings a hand from the back of your thigh to lay between where your bodies meet, brushing his thumb over your aching clit.

“Oh… my god…” You gasp into his mouth. “Josh…”

“S’that feel good?” He mumbles against your lips as he slowly works one finger into your already full pussy, thumb still against your clit.

“Like-like,” You hardly stutter as he brings you closer to the brink of orgasm.

“Gold?” Josh suggests, curling his finger upwards as to draw an answer.

Gold. The smell of a freshly blooming sunflower field. The first s’more of summer. The feeling of the sun drying your wet skin after swimming.

“Like gold.” A mess of gasps and moans, you swallow harshly before mewling his name. “J-Josh,”

“Y/n,” He sings, a smile tugging the corner of his lips as they’re pressed against yours. Gold, yellow, honey, rose petal lips, purple-white. The overstimulation was washing over in more ways you could count.

“Josh, please?” You beg for something that’s already yours, a feeling of white-hot washing over your entire body as you feel yourself begin to spill over the edge.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty mama? It’s all yours.” Josh continues curling his finger up, tapping the spongy spot tucked where only he can find it as his hips and thumb keep a steady pace.

Your ears begin to ring like the broken bell above the church nobody attends. Almost in a possessed-like manner, your body convulses under Josh’s touch. As he removes his finger from your aching cunt, you hardly open your eyes to watch him lick your slick off his digits. Your face must look curious because Josh smirks once more before attaching his lips to yours. He tastes of honey, delicate flowers, an old library. To be engulfed and consumed by his flame is all you’ve ever wanted, all you’ve ever craved.

Josh follows not too far afterwards, his hips stuttering and stilling as his warm release coats your walls, his warm torso laying its weight on yours. He turns his head so his cheek rests on your collar, chastely kissing whatever skin he can get his lips on as his length softens inside. It feels weird but nice, oddly enough.

“Hi,” He whispers gently into your neck.

“Hi,” You copy, letting your head fall so your cheek rests against the nest of curls on his head. Slightly damp, but god does he smell good. Chests pressed together, you lay in silence wondering where the beating of either heart has gone. The two of you lay like that for a while, soaking in one another’s presence before Josh finally pushes himself off of you. Your chest grows almost empty and airy, like a helium balloon, without his weight on top to hold you down.

“Can you tell me now?” You groan, sleepy and winded.

“The issue is that I’m not from here, Y/n.” Josh sighs, pushing his legs through his pant legs.

“And that’s okay. But I want to see, Josh. I wanna see where you’re from.”

“It’s all black-red, you don’t wanna see that.”

“I want to know you. Let me see.” Your shoulders fall alongside your expression as you pull your panties over your legs followed by your leggings. Josh reaches down to grab your hand and for a second everything feels orange again. Josh offers a worried smile before everything turns physically black.

“Josh?” Not only is he gone, but everything in the distance looks to be going, too.

It can’t be.

Is Josh… Not real? Just a thought for your amusement?

As you succumb to darkness, you realize maybe blue isn’t so bad after all. It was much better than black, at least. Your surroundings felt like the blue raspberry, thunderstorm, whirring darkness that occured after the incident. Yet still you find you’re unable to recall anything prior outside of riding your bike in the woods.

Finally, you remember something but still not enough to answer what happened that day. All you remember is a glimpse of orange trying to pull you from the darkness and the taste of blue raspberry. A huge wave of grey-black sorrow washes over you, sobs ripping through your chest. Panic is all you know to do.

“Hey,” Orange wraps itself around you in the form of his arms, and even though you can’t see, you know it’s him because of the shade of his words. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

“Where?” You shudder.

“In the heart.”

One deep, ragged breath fills your lungs as you open your eyes expecting nothing except pitch black, but you’re back in the cabin. It doesn’t feel yellow anymore.

“What happened?” You squeak out, just like that damned chair.

“Y/n,” Josh says gently as he walks to stand before you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and rests his chin on your head.

“Josh, tell me what happened, I need to know.” You mumble into his chest as you choke back tears.

“We don’t exist.”

“Yes we do! We exist, Josh. We are real, we feel things. Could we feel things if we weren’t real?” You push yourself away from his hold and ball your fists at your side.

“You can ball your fists, but that doesn’t bring us back to life.” He frowns, plopping onto the floor. He sits criss-crossed, looking up at you with those big brown eyes.

“Back to life?”

“You died that day, Y/n. It’s why you can’t remember anything that happened.”

“Died?” You fall to your knees in front of him, your fists thumping against the ground. Nothing was real, at least it hasn’t been for the last few years.

“I tried to save you but I was too late. I saw you just… laying there, but I tried, Y/n.” Josh rests his hands on your knees. If neither of you are real, then how can you feel him?

For the first time you’re able to recall the darkness. Why it tasted of blue raspberry, where your hatred for the squeaking came from, why nobody believed Josh was real. You try again to remember the day of the accident, but to no avail.

“You’re sure it’s not too much?” you ask fussing with the bottom of the dress he had picked out for you.

“It’s perfect,” he says, turning you to face him, “I knew this little number would look stunning. It’s my favorite color on you.”

You smile weakly and take a deep breath in to calm your nerves. This was your first time going to a semi public event together. You’d been dating for a couple years but Josh—much like his twin—had wanted to keep your relationship for just the two of you. Of course your close family and friends knew and you went out together but you two knew there was a very real possibility this would be the first time you would be romantically linked in the public eye. Covid had made it easy for your relationship to be just that, yours. Of course there had been rumors here and there of Josh’s secret girlfriend. Mainly just grainy photos of you walking back to the tour bus with him or posts about seeing Josh with some girl at a restaurant, but nothing that had ever gained any traction. Up until now, you had maintained your anonymity and you liked it that way. You loved your little bubble. It felt safe. But you knew tonight there would be lots of people and cameras there and that the perfect serene secret of your relationship was about to be out in the open. No longer just yours and Josh’s. To say you were terrified was an understatement.

You knew how much he loved you but you were so scared this would somehow change things. Sensing your anxiety, Josh slides his hands down your bare arms, stopping at your hands and interlacing his fingers through yours. He looks at you breathing in a deep breath and urges you to do the same. You take a deep breath in mirroring his and breathe out together. You find your nerves starting to melt. You take another together and he wraps his arms around you squeezing you slightly. The perfect amount of pressure to make you feel safe.

He pulls away, “So… what you’re not gonna tell me how good I look?” he chuckles with a twirl trying to lighten the mood. “You look incredible, babe. I think this is one of your best looks yet.” you reply, straightening his jacket. And you meant it. The chocolate brown suit he’d designed pairs perfectly with his cream turtleneck and he looks absolutely delectable but you’ll save those comments for later.

“Okay pretty lady, you ready to do this thing?” he asks with a toothy grin. “As I’ll ever be,” you let out a nervous chuckle. He kisses your forehead and leads you downstairs where your car is waiting.

~

You arrive at the wedding fifteen minutes before it starts. Just long enough to meet up with the other guys and their dates. Jita greets you first with a hug and compliments your dress. She reaches down and gives your hand a soft squeeze. A silent acknowledgment that she knows how you’re feeling. You greet everyone else with hugs and head inside the venue to find a seat. You all take your seats and your leg immediately starts bouncing, a nervous tic that happens subconsciously. Josh reaches over and grabs your hand rubbing small circles with his thumb. He’s always so attentive and knows just how to ground you right when you’re starting to spiral. You smile softly and there’s a change in music signaling the wedding was beginning.

The ceremony was beautiful. The couple's vows were sweet and sincere. And your face got red hot when the newlyweds were heading down the aisle and Josh leaned over to tell you how beautiful you would look in a wedding gown. The officiant announced that the couple wanted all of you to enjoy a cocktail hour before the reception started. Your group got up and joined the crowd of people headed to the cocktail hour. On your way you chatted with Jita and Hannah about how lovely the wedding had been and talked about how pretty the bride's dress was. Once you’d arrived at the cocktail hour you all claimed a pub table to stand around.

“Your usual?” Josh asked. You smiled and nodded “Yes please!” The guys wandered off to the bar and found their way back to the table faster than you’d expected with drinks in hand. “Here you go pretty girl,” Josh hands you your drink with a smile and a wink. You love the way he makes you blush with the simplest words and gestures. You sip your drink as conversation flows and before you realize it you’ve reached the bottom of your glass. Josh’s cup has also run empty. You notice and ask him if he wants to make another trip to the bar. He nods and reaches an arm around your waist and kisses your bare shoulder before he starts leading you towards the bar.

Once you’ve entered into a crowd of people and you two are out of the group's sight, Josh leans over and whispers in your ear. “What do you say we step out and get a little bit of fresh air?” You’re not sure whether it’s the tone he uses or the way his lips are grazing the shell of your ear but the question has sent a jolt of energy through your body. “Mmmm” you nod.

He uses his grip around your waist to guide you towards the door. You enter into a long hallway that’s surprisingly empty considering the party that’s raging on just on the other side of the wall. You walk down the hallway a bit before Josh removes his arm and turns his body to face you. “You know how good you look tonight? So perfect for me,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. That familiar warmth comes rushing back to your cheeks. You look down embarrassed by how quickly his words are unraveling you. “Look at me sweet girl,” he uses a finger to lightly pull your chin up as he steps closer to you, “Want you to look at me, know that I mean it.” You nod. “And I do mean it,” he continues “I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you. A whole spectacle going on but I couldn’t focus on anything but you.”

You gasp when your back hits the wall behind you. You hadn’t noticed that you’d been slowly shuffling backwards as he’d been moving to close the space between the two of you. You’d run out of space to move and Josh had you trapped now. One of his hands making its way to the small of your back and the other reaching up, capturing your chin between his first two fingers as he pulled you into a kiss. It was gentle the same way all his kisses started out. And then slowly you felt his tongue sliding across your lips asking for permission. You parted your lips granting him access and then your tongues met, beginning to do their familiar dance. The kiss quickly became hungry and full of wanting. You notice an aching starting to grow between your legs as Josh pulls you closer into himself. One of his legs sliding between yours. You let out a quiet moan when his leg grazes your heat.

Josh pulls away and lets out a soft chuckle. You whine at the loss of his lips against yours. “My sweet girl is so needy isn’t she. Moaning right here for me in public. Bet you’d let me have you right here if I wanted, wouldn’t you? I promise I’ll take good care of you when we get home.”

Wrapping your hands around the lapel of his blazer you pull him back into a kiss. “Need you right now” you breathe against his mouth.

He lets out a groan. “Oh mama, don’t tempt me.”

Before you know what your body is doing you’ve grabbed his hand and you’re leading him down the hallway toward the bathroom you saw when you had entered the venue. You put your ear against the door of the men’s restroom. “What are you doing?” Josh asks. “Shhh.” You whisper.

After listening for a second and hearing nothing on the other side of the door. You grab Josh’s hand and pull him into the bathroom. Walking down the long bathroom you lead him into the last stall and silently thank your lucky stars the stalls have floor to ceiling walls and are more spacious than a typical bathroom stall. You lock the stall behind you and spin Josh until his back is against the stall door. You reach down for the button of his trousers and look up at him silently asking if this was okay. He sees your hesitation and nods, licking his lips at the sight of you so desperate for him. You look down and finally notice the large imprint his cock is making against his pants. You make quick work unbuttoning his pants and freeing him from his boxers before dropping to your knees. Looking up at him through your lashes before licking a stripe from the base of his cock up to his tip. His breath hitches. “Gonna have to make this quick mama, don’t want them to come looking for us.” In response you take him until he hits the back of your throat. He lets out an airy moan. You begin working his length at just the right pace using your hands to work the portions that won’t fit in your mouth. Slow at first but then picking up the pace just how you know he likes it. You know his body so well by now that you’ve got him close without even realizing it.

Reaching his hands down he weaves his fingers delicately through your hair applying light pressure to the back of your head and then finding his rhythm, he starts bucking his hips into your face fucking your mouth. You feel tears starting to sting the corners of your eyes. “My girl is doing so good for me,” he says looking down at you. “Look so pretty choking on me.” Never missing a beat, he moves one of his hands from the back of your head reaching down to wipe a tear that had escaped. He moans a string of expletives and you can tell he’s approaching his climax from his leg muscles starting to tense, and his cock twitching in your mouth. You flatten your tongue and move ever so slightly sending him over the edge. You feel his familiar warmth rushing down the back of your throat sucking all of it down, not wasting a single drop. You let him finish and then slowly let his cock fall out of your mouth with a pop.

He slips himself back into his boxers and pants and begins to button his trousers. “Wow… that was…” he trails off. “Hot,” you say standing up finishing his sentence with a smirk. “Yeah,” Josh lets out a breathy laugh. “Wanna taste you later, mama,” he says, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Will you let me do that? Be a sweet girl and let me have you? Let me take my time with you?” The way he speaks to you is intoxicating. “Yes please” you say, nodding your head quickly.

With another quick kiss on your cheek, Josh exits the stall and then the bathroom making sure the coast is clear for you two to sneak back out. He motions to you that you’re good and you stop in front of the mirror to quickly smooth down your hair and reapply your lip gloss. You exit the restroom and you straighten Josh’s jacket and give each other a one over to make sure there’s no evidence of what just occurred. After you’re both satisfied, you start back towards the party, Josh’s arm wraps around you starting at your shoulder his hand gently slides down until it reaches the small of your back where it had been there all night.

After making a quick stop at the bar to grab the drinks you were supposed to be getting the entire time you make your way back to your table. “Wow, the bar must have been super busy when you guys went up there. Super weird I didn’t see you when I was going to get ours.” Sam says with a teasing tone raising his glass in your direction. You feel yourself starting to blush. Josh clears his throat to explain himself when a loud voice booms over the speakers “The couple would love for you to come celebrate with them at the reception. Please make your way to the ballroom.” Saved by the bell, you think.

Once again the group joins in as a herd of people migrates to the ballroom. You all get your table number and find your way to the table. You sit down and chat enjoying each others company. You find yourself immersed in a side conversation with Jita for most of the night. You were so grateful for how well you got along with Jake’s partner. Meeting Jake and Jita had been the most nerve wracking part of you and Josh’s relationship. You knew how much it meant to Josh that you get along well with them. He had always seen Jake as quite literally an extension of himself and Jita, well she had become family at that point. You were thankful for how easily conversation flowed between the two of you and that you connected so easily.

The night carried on and at one point you look up to see Josh has gotten a glow stick and is dancing around with it. His dance moves somehow resemble that of both a child and an elderly person simultaneously. You let out a snort laugh watching him dance. He is pure sunshine in human form and you love to see him being goofy and having fun. The duality of your partner is something you will never be able to adequately express your appreciation for. His ability to be both the lightest goofiest person you know and somehow still be the most alluring sexy person is such a mystery but he somehow does it with ease.

He pulls you out of the dance floor and you erupt into giggles as he takes your arms and swings them with his, trying to will your body into mimicking his moves. You stay out on the dance floor for a bit. Long enough for the lights to lower and the music to slow down. Josh pulls you into slow dance. You feel hesitant, for some reason having him hold you like that on the dance floor felt vulnerable. All night you’d been off to the side when showing affection. Now you were in the center of the room and while there were several other couples on the dance floor as well, you felt exposed somehow. Sensing your hesitation, Josh pulls you in tighter. He leans in close “Let them look,” he says in a hushed tone.

You let yourself relax into his embrace and enjoy this moment. Throughout the duration of your dance Josh is whispering sweet nothings to you. At one point he was whispering what he had planned for you later in the evening and you felt a blush creeping across your face and the aching between your legs grow stronger. He had this way of making everything melt away. The sounds of people clapping for the band as the song ends rips you back to reality. Josh takes your hand and guides you back to your table. As you guys take your seats back at the table Josh places his hand dangerously high on your thigh. You feel yourself tense up under his touch. You need him, you’ve needed him all night. Sensing this, Josh squeezes your thigh and rises from the table. It was late enough in the evening that it felt like an appropriate time to head out. You and Josh make your rounds saying goodbye to all your friends and stopping to congratulate the couple one last time.

The ride home is torturous. Josh’s hand draws lazy patterns on your upper thigh. At one point he slides his hand up under the hem of your dress and starts to inch his way up your thigh. You clench around nothing and shift in your seat searching for any kind of relief you can get. He moves his hand back down your thigh and you whine. “Patience, sweet girl. You know I’ll take care of you when we get home.” Josh laughs softly.

You finally pull into the driveway and you’re practically falling over yourself trying to get inside as fast as possible. You get through the door after fumbling with your keys to unlock it. Josh rushes in after you and closes the door behind the two of you.

His hands immediately find your hips, he spins you around until your back hits the door and the breath is momentarily knocked out of your chest. He presses his body into yours and grabs your left leg hitching it over his hip. He then takes his hand under your chin to lift your head to the side exposing your neck. Josh trails wet sloppy kisses down your neck. Fighting for any sense of control you reach down and palm at his dick through his pants. He sucks in hard through his teeth and grabs both your wrists pinning them against the door behind you, reminding you who is actually running the show. He continues hungrily kissing down your neck leaving love marks as he goes. One of Josh’s favorite things was marking you up and leaving you reminders of whose you were.

Josh trails his mouth back up to meet yours and releases your arms to fall back to your side. He lifts your leg bringing it back down to the ground. He then uses both of his arms to wrap around your waist and start guiding you both back towards the bedroom. The two of you fumble your way down the hallway just a mess of tangled limbs never letting your mouths separate.

Once you reach the bedroom he pats to feel the bed behind him and spins you around to lay you on your back. “My turn to take care of you now,” he says softly. He takes off his jacket and tosses it on the chair next to your bed. Josh then drops to his knees in front of you and makes quick work taking off your shoes and starts kissing up your legs. He’s going agonizingly slow and keeping true to his word, he was definitely taking his time.

He starts to bunch your dress up loosely around your hips and ghosts his face right above your center. You buck your hips slightly looking for any form of friction. He chuckles softly to himself, “Needy tonight are we?” You groan back to him, “Mhmmm please Josh, need you so bad.”

He rewards your begging by hooking two fingers into your underwear and pulling them off. He slips a single digit into your heat and lets out a small moan. “So wet for me already mama. Need to taste you, can I taste you?” You nod your head quickly. “Need to hear you. Want to hear you ask for it,” he purrs. “Please Josh, please I need it, need your mouth, please please please,” you quickly slur out. You don’t even care how absolutely desperate and fucked out you sound, you needed him and you knew he was getting off hearing you beg.

“That’s my girl,” he looks up at you, “look so pretty like this for me. Want to make you feel good, can I make my pretty girl feel good?” he smirks. He’s having too much fun toying with you. “Please Josh.” you plead. Finally, he sinks down, connecting with your center. His tongue licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit where he starts to lick lazy circles.

“Need more,” you manage to choke out. He slips another finger in and sucks your clit into his mouth. Moving his digits in and out of you in a perfect rhythm, he starts doing a ‘come here’ motion with his fingers and you’re quickly approaching your climax. You feel yourself clenching around his fingers and hear him let out a whimper. Your sweet boy loves to make you feel good. At the rate he’s working you, you know it won’t be long before you’re coming undone. You know it, he knows it, and he starts to pick up his pace lapping against you like a starving man.

He comes up for breath momentarily, “C’mon, mama let go for me. Need you to cum on my face, will you cum for me sweet girl. Need to taste you.” He drops his face back down and you weave your hands through his messy curls and begin to buck your hips into his face. He flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face. His words were all the encouragement you needed and before you know it you’re cumming hard around his fingers. He coaches you through your release, “That’s it, so perfect when you let go. My good girl.”

Josh slips his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth savoring your release. He peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you come down. Your body starts to settle and you suddenly feel the loss of his touch. You feel empty and have an insatiable desire to have him in you again.

“Josh,” you breathe out. “Mhm, yes my love,” he says lazily looking up at you from between your legs, God is he beautiful like that. “Need you to fill me up. Feels so empty, can you fuck me?” you ask as innocently as possible, you know what talking to him like that does. “I spent so long babying your sweet cunt, now it needs me to fill it up?” his eyes start to darken. Fuck, he’s absolutely filthy. You nod your head quickly.

He gets up from the ground, takes off his shirt, undoes his belt, and steps out of his pants. He pulls his boxers down and lets his hardened cock spring free. He pumps it a few times before walking over to the bed and grabbing your legs to pull you to him. Josh lines himself up and starts to tease your entrance. “Please no more teasing,” you whine out a little more desperately than you’d intended. Josh, feeling merciful, pushes into you quickly bottoming out, and you suck in a breath through your teeth.

He stalls out there for a moment letting you adjust to his size. “Perfect for me, just perfect. Like you were made for me,” he says. He looks down to where your bodies are connected and starts to pump in and out of you. You join his gaze and watch him fucking into you. He’s right, seeing the two of you connect, it’s like your bodies were made for each other.

“Feel so good, can feel you so deep.” you moan out. He places a hand on your lower stomach and both your eyes meet there. “Feel me here?” he says, thrusting into you hard. The sound that tears through you is nothing short of pornographic. He started fucking you at an unrelenting pace. You couldn’t get words out so you just nodded furiously but what you wanted to say was you felt him everywhere. You always did but especially when you connected with him in this way, even when he was being absolutely filthy his radiance reached to every part of your entire being. Your golden boy. And you somehow get lost thinking about how fortunate you are to live in his glow.

A gentle touch to your cheek brings you back to reality. “You alright in there, love. Looked like you spaced on me for a second,” he stares down at you with a slight look of concern. “I’m good, I’m good. Promise. Love you so much. You take such good care of me.” you reply. He slows his pace and his eyes are filled with nothing but admiration. “Love you more than anything, you’re everything. Said I would take my time with you tonight, want to take my time with you.” he says remembering his words from earlier in the night. “Can I do that? Love my sweet girl just right, slow and gentle like she deserves?” His voice is thick as honey and just as sweet, but somehow still dripping with sex. “Mmmhmmmm,” you encourage. You’re convinced he could propose anything and you’d always blindly agree.

Josh lowers his face down to meet yours and kisses you deeply before kissing a trail down your neck all the while pumping in and out of you. He makes his way down to your collarbone where he leaves a few love bites. “Mine” he muttered into your neck. “Yours,” you moan out.

He then makes his way down to your nipples, popping one into his mouth and gently biting it before quickly soothing it with his tongue. He finally makes his way back upright and pushes your knees to your chest changing the angle and somehow hitting you deeper than before. You let out a hiss of pleasure. The two of you stay this way for a while, his pace slow, steady, and deep. Just the two of you, eyes locked on each other, and the room filled with the breathy moans each of you is letting out accompanied by Josh’s gentle praise to you. And with each “good girl,” “so good for me,” “just like that,” and “you take me so well,” you inch closer to your end.

Eventually Josh reaches his thumb down to your mouth, swiping your bottom lip. You open your mouth and he slides his thumb in letting you suck on it gently. He pulls it back out and slides it down to your clit where he rubs tight slow circles. A moan escapes you. “M getting close baby,” you say breathily, “will you cum with me? Want you to fill me up.” His eyes roll back in his head. “Don’t think I could dream about lasting much longer when you’re talking to me like that mama.”

You feel your walls tightening around him and feel his hips slightly faltering signaling that you are both nearing your release. He looks down at you, “Need you to cum for me again? Can you do that for me? Cum pretty all over my cock?” And with one final swipe of his finger you’re sent plummeting over that edge, your second orgasm hitting you hard. He pushes into you bottoming out and you feel his release filling you. “Fuckkkkk, thank you sweet girl. So good for me.” he rushes out as his forehead drops down to meet yours.

“You’re pissed, aren’t you?” you asked before taking a sip of your drink, waiting for his response. Josh scribbled furiously on the pad of paper before lifting it up to show you. ‘You have no idea’ it said in his sloppy, rushed scroll. You leaned your head back and laughed before continuing, “this is going to be a hard couple of days for you, huh?” He glared at you, eyes sharp, before nodding. He got up and padded to the kitchen. You heard him clink bottles and move things around and you got up to go help him with whatever he was working on. “No alcohol either Josh, come on,” you said, reaching to grab the bottle of tequila from his hand, giggling. He spun and glared at you, clearly irritated at you finding his situation humorous. 

You had both gone to a festival the past week during his break from touring. Josh had overdone it with the yelling and singing along to the various bands. That, in addition to the dehydration he faced (he drank more alcohol than water that weekend) had led to him losing his voice. For most people, this would be no big deal. For a rockstar going back on tour in a week, this was detrimental. Josh’s doctor had put him on a strict regime- no talking and keeping anything that could irritate his vocal chords and throat to a minimum. Smoking, alcohol and sugar were off-limits as an abundance of caution. 

“So basically,” you said, intending to fuel the fire, “I can be as drunk and loud as I want, and you can’t stop me OR partake.” He gave you a grimace. “At least you’re the most theatrical person I know so your face can talk for you. But you’re also a rambling little old man who can’t stand to not hear your voice, so I know this is truly killing you,” you said, patting his shoulder. He rolled his eyes before watching you as you walked towards the fridge. You opened it and paused. “What do we want for dinner?” you asked, turning to face him. Josh’s mouth opened for a second. “Nuh uh, notepad,” you said, pointing to the notepad he had comically been wearing on a string around his neck. 

Josh rolled his eyes and walked over to you, pointing at various things in the fridge. “I’m not going to read your mind Joshua, use your notepad,” you said, clearly feigning annoyance. He turned to look at you, clearly irritated. You laughed hard, taking a few steps back after swinging the fridge door shut. ‘You drank too much wine’ he wrote before showing you. You nodded, “that’s true. Dealing with you being silent and mindreading is not a sober task.” You paused, watching his face contort with irritation “What? Is this really making you that mad? Because you can’t talk?” you said, moving forward and pointing a finger into his chest. He grabbed the notepad and scribbled ‘stop antagonizing me.’ “Never Josh, this is too much fun.” 

In an instant, he grabbed you and pushed you into the kitchen counter. “Oh, feisty huh?” you said, laughing. The whole situation was so funny- a seldom quiet man suddenly rendered silent. He leaned in to kiss you, hard, his hands finding their way to your butt and gripping. “Oh, no way Josh. There’s no way you’re going to have sex with me and stay silent. Impossible,” you said, scoffing at him. ‘Bet I can’ he wrote on his notepad, giving you a smirk. “Challenge accepted. If I make you talk, you owe me dinner,” you said. He nodded, giving you a wide grin. The thing about you was that you were a sore loser, so you simply didn’t lose. This was going to be a very fun night.

You placed both hands on Josh’s face and kissed him hard and passionately. You lifted his shirt off and ran your hands over his chest, playing with the small patch of chest hair that had started to grow during his time off. He tugged at your shirt and you obliged, removing it swiftly. “Let’s relocate before we really get into this,” you said, turning to pull him behind you. He paused- you knew he probably wanted to fuck you over the kitchen counter, but you weren’t about to let him win. You tugged at him, “come on, it’s my call tonight since you can’t tell me otherwise.” He huffed, but complied and followed you to your room. 

Once there, you quickly removed your pants and Josh did the same. You reached out to pull him closer to you as you sat on the bed, letting your hand trail down from his jaw, along his stomach and to his clothed erection. You rubbed your hand up and down it and he let his head fall back, clearly enjoying the sensation. You slid your hands under his underwear, pulling them down. His dick popped up, slapping his stomach. You giggled- clearly the wine you’d drank went straight to your head. 

Josh narrowed his eyes at you, lacing his hand in your hair and slightly pulling you forward, towards his erection. “Oh no, Josh, I’m on vocal rest, too. Gotta be easy on the throat,” you said, leaning back. He let out a growl, clearly unimpressed. “Shhh,” you murmured, “don’t strain yourself baby.” He started to stroke himself, watching you. “I can give you a little help,” you said, pulling yourself forward and leaning over, making deep eye contact with him before letting a stream of spit roll off of your tongue and onto his cock. He watched you before letting his eyes roll back with pleasure, groaning. “Hush,” you said, moving further onto the bed. You propped yourself up on some pillows, “I’ll be making the noise tonight. Or did you forget?”

 You ran your hands up and down your thighs before reaching up to pull your bralette down, letting your breasts spill out over the top. He sucked in a deep breath- you knew he loved the way they sat over the lacy fabric. You leaned your head back, letting your hands rub against your bare breasts and chest. He watched you, entranced, as he slowly stroked himself. 

You slowly let your hands slide down to your thighs, gripping the soft skin the way Josh often did. You palmed yourself over your underwear, “Wow, I’m so wet. I wonder who did that?” you asked, giving him a raised eyebrow. You could hear the response he’d want to give in your head- something to stroke his own ego yet also remind you that you were his. You slowly moved your underwear to the side, brushing your fingers around your cunt. You knew going slow tormented him, and you could tell it was working with how hard he was and the way his face was now completely flushed. He watched you, his eyes begging for more. 

You stroked between your lips with your middle finger, using the wetness to start making small, lazy circles on your clit. You let out some pornographic moans, really amping up the optics as you slipped a finger in, then two. “Fuck Josh, I’m so wet.” He reached out to touch and you snapped at him “no talking, no touching.” He let out a low guttural growl from deep in his throat. “Quit,” you said, before returning to pleasuring yourself. You watched him, his cock leaking precum. “Mmm, wish I could taste that,” you said and his eyes lowered to see what you were looking at. He squeezed it onto his finger before moving towards you, holding it out for you. You leaned in and sucked his finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue against him. He sucked in a quick breath, letting his head loll. 

You pulled back, releasing his finger with a pop. He watched you perched back, taking in the sight. “What do you want, Josh?” you asked, clearly antagonizing him. He lowered his head, looking up at you from beneath his curly hair. “What, baby?” you asked, giving him sweet, puppy-dog eyes. He lurched forward, pushing you back as he flattened himself on top of you. He held a hand over your mouth, silencing you for the first time that night. He leaned in close to your face before uttering the first words he’d said in almost 24 hours- “I need to fuck you.” His voice was hoarse, but still strong, lower in register and volume than he typically spoke. You removed his hand from your mouth, “so do it,” you said, grinning- you had won. 

He shoved inside of you and you both gasped, Josh’s forehead falling to meet yours. He pumped in and out of you with long, deep strokes. His right hand massaged your breasts, pulling on them as he wrestled with the fabric underneath them. “Fuck me harder, Josh,” you commanded. He flipped you over, spreading your ass before slapping it hard. You jumped at the sting and he wasted no time entering you again and fucking you hard. He wrapped his hands in your hair, pulling your head back. He leaned forward and kissed you, giving you a split second of his signature sweetness before he continued to fuck you senseless. 

You let him continue for a moment with his rhythm. “Let me get on top,” you said and he pulled out of you before dropping back onto the bed next to you. You slid over him, reaching down to help guide yourself onto him. You bounced a few times, reaching out to steady yourself with your hands on his chest. You then sat back and let your hips roll on top of him, enjoying your view of him under you. He reached out, placing his thumb onto your clit and circling it. He worked with you, the combination doing wonders. 

“Fuck Josh, I’m going to cum,” you announced, knowing he loved hearing you say it. You leaned forward to look him deep in his eyes as you moaned, cumming hard. You stopped riding him as you came, legs jolting underneath you. He took the break to push you back, getting back on top of you. He pressed his palm into your wet cunt, letting you finish riding your orgasm with the pressure he knew you loved. 

“Your turn,” you said, smiling at him. He grunted as he started to move in and out with deep strokes. His movements got sloppy quickly as he was clearly getting closer to the edge. “Cum for me Josh,” you said, locking eyes with him. That was all it took for him to cum, leaning forward to rest his head in the crook of your neck as he jolted, cumming deep inside you. 

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Unprotected penetrative sex, male oral sex, mild teasing, mild horror

Synopsis: You and Josh spend your spare time on tour exploring old abandoned buildings. When an old church gives you more than you bargained for, you find yourself in the middle of a tale of danger and intrigue.

Troubled Mind: Part One

Josh was on his way and you still weren't ready yet. Sitting on the bed of your hotel room overlooking Charleston, you were desperately trying to achieve the perfect dutch braid, but your nervous fingers just weren't working like you wanted them to. Josh always had the abilty to make you clumsy and unsure of yourself with his presence. Not on purpose, of course, but he'd flash you a knowing, toothy grin or squeeze your arm or leg with just the right amount of pressure and it made you melt. It felt like you had been in a will he/won't he limbo for a while now and you weren't the type of girl to come forward and talk about your feeling. No way in hell.

You had just gotten your braids exactly how you wanted them when a knock startled you. You shot up like someone lit the bed on fire. As you walked to the door, you adjusted your olive green tank top that hugged you in all the right places and did a quick mirror check to pull out some baby hairs from your braid and flatten out your black linen shorts. You opened the door and he gave you the biggest, most perfect smile that made his brown eyes sparkle. "Hey, you! How's it goin?" He said excitedly. Josh was always like this. He always greeted you like you were the most important person on earth to him. It made your stomach do cartwheels, which seemed to double when he pulled you in for a tight hug.

"Oh hey! Let me get my shoes on and I'll be ready," you replied, grinning as you broke away from the hug. "Well come in, I'm not gonna make you wait in the hall." He followed you into your hotel room and sat on the office chair by the desk. As he looked around the rather nice hotel room, he remarked, "We put you up real nice, don't we?"

"Yeah, this is one of the nicer ones! They have room service!" You blushed a little after you said that. You weren't used to hotels with room service outside of touring with Greta Van Fleet. In fact, you weren't used to any of the lavish perks that came with being their makeup artist. They took a chance on you, a girl who was just dipping her feet in the entertainment industry doing hair and makeup. He gave you a knowing, kind smile and changed the subject. "So this place we're going to is pretty far out. I didn't want to go to one of the usual spots where people go to explore, ya know? Off the beaten path and all that."

"You mean you didn't want to go on a guided tour of the Old Charleston Jail? I'm SHOCKED, Joshua," you said with a laugh. You had gotten your shoes on and grabbed your flashlight by this point. "Well, I'm ready!" He stood up and let you lead the way out the door and out of the hotel.

These little adventures you went on with him started at the beginning of the tour. You both had a mutual love for Ghost Adventures and laughed about Zak Bagins' dramatic "demon attacks" often. One day, you both agreed that you wanted to try exploring abandoned building yourselves. Every time there were a couple days of break in the tour, the two of you would find a spot and explore it for an evening. There was usually nothing there but the excitement of possibility and spending one on one time with him made it all worth it.

You hopped into the truck the he rented. It smelled like him: Clean and woodsy. The drive through Charleston was filled with ethically questionable horse carriages, tourists, ghost tours, and beautiful old buildings. Despite being here several times, you were always taken with the charm of this little town. Pretty soon though, you were reminded that Charleston was, in fact, in South Carolina. Beautiful cobblestone roads were replaced by highways in disrepair and trees. So many trees.

"So, what do you think will be at this church?" you asked. Josh raised his eyebrows and turned down the music. The ride had been mostly quiet. You both were deep in thought, it seemed, and he was a little surprised at your awkward break in the silence.

"Well, uh," he chuckled a little bit. "The guy I met at the bar said it had a bit of a reputation. People usually don't last long before they hightail it outta there. Something's there, but he *said* that he doesn't know what. Speaking of which, we're almost there."

He seemed more nervous than usual. Josh was usually a chatter box but he seemed to have a lot on his mind. You did as well, as your feelings for him seem to grow with every little glance in his direction.  You pulled down the truck mirror to check your makeup. It was very light, just a little blush, concealer, lip gloss, and mascara. Of course it looked fine, but you were doing it to distract yourself from him.

The truck slowed down as he pulled onto a bumpy dirt road. There was a sign that was faded and dirty. It looked hand painted: "First Baptist Church." Josh seemed to hit every pot hole on the short road to the church. When you finally got to the building, you could feel the heaviness that surrounded it before you even got out of the truck.

It was small and dilpitated. The steeple was missing boards and the cross was barely hanging on, which felt particularly ominous. The paint was peeling off. What was once a pristine white church was now rotting and falling apart. You might've felt sad if it wasn't for the exisitental dread that was consuming you. "Fuck, thats so creepy," Josh said, barely above a whisper. You looked over and he was smiling and excited. Did he not feel the dread?

Maybe his excitement that he gets to spend time with you is stronger than that, you thought.  But that felt silly, almost egotistical, to assume that you were the reason for his happiness. You chose to say nothing and walked closer to the church, despite every fiber of your being begging you not to. Josh caught up to you and gave you hand a little squeeze.

"Are you scared? You're not saying much," he said. It was like the little bastard knew that you had such big feelings for him. You don't know if it was the stifling heat or blushing but your cheeks turned red.

"I'm fine," you lied. "You haven't been talking much either. You're usually such a chatter box."

"Oh I have things on my mind, love," he replied. "But now isn't the time to talk about them. Let's go inside."

Love? LOVE?! You almost fell to your knees. You entered the church with him, hand in hand. The inside was in slightly better shape than the outside, but it was clear that time and the elements had done their work. There were a couple of pews still there and the alter was still in tact. The floor was covered by leaves, debris, and trash from other people who used this place as a hangout. The sunlight, orange as the sun was setting, peeked through every little crack and missing board on the walls. It was haunting and beautiful. You looked over to Josh, who seemed just as taken with it as you were. You both saw the beauty in things that other people didn't and it bonded you.

You started walking toward the nearest pew, watching the ground closely for snakes. The dread and heaviness had only gotten worse since you entered the church. You were nervous and felt like you were very much not welcome here. You braced yourself on the pew to collect your thoughts. What the fuck is going on? Have you guys come to a place that's actually haunted? What happened here? What has made this place its home?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your waist being grabbed from behind. You let out a scream and turned around. Of course it was Josh, laughing at his very unfunny, shitty little prank. You must've looked as terrified as you felt because his face fell as soon as he saw yours.

"Hey, hey," his voice was low and calm. You were trying to catch your breath and you were angry at how stupid you felt and how embarassed you were. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize that would scare you so bad. Come here."

He beckoned you into a hug. You let him embrace you. Despite how sweaty he was, he somehow still smelled fresh and clean. You closed your eyes and let the hug take you over, feeling almost immediate comfort. Josh broke away slightly, just enough to lift your chin just enough so your eyes met.

  You knew at that moment why he'd be quiet all day, why you'd catch him looking at you, why he wanted to spend time with you. You knew for sure, in this moment, that he was just as in love with you as you were with him. His big, beautiful brown eyes told the entire story. He gave you a little questioning nod and you smiled back. He leaned in and your lips met.

  Josh's lips were soft and yet he was kissing you hard, as if he had wanted this his entire life. Your hands were exploring each others' bodies. He grabbed your ass while you entagled your fingers into his slightly damp hair, his other hand on your face and you pulled him in closer. You couldn't remember either of you shedding your clothes but soon you were both naked and you couldn't tell where his body ended and yours began.

You wanted show him exactly what he meant to you. You broke the kiss and he gave you a sad look...which turned into excitement as soon as he realized what you were doing. You kneeled down in front of him. HIs cock was perfect, just like the rest of him. His hair was perfectly groomed and his dick was just the right size. You could see the precum coming out of the tip. You lightly licked it off, causing him to let out a moan. You started to squeeze his balls as you lightly flicked your tongue up and down his shaft. Your other fingers were lightly tapping whichever part of his dick you weren't licking. He moaned and jerked, occasionally thrusting his cock like he wanted to fuck your face.

  "Baby, please. Please suck it," He said breathlessly. You gave him a coy little grin. "What? Like this?" You popped the head in your mouth, sucked it a little and pulled it out like a lollipop. He groaned. "Oh my fucking god, suck it. PLEASE." You giggled and he growled. Finally, you took his whole dick into your mouth. Oh, how amazing it was! You sucked on it with various pressure, sliding your mouth up and down the shaft. You let your tongue dance around it, paying close attention to the head. Josh was slightly fucking your face and moaning. You enjoyed giving him pleasure almost as much as he enjoyed receiving it but you wanted him inside of you desperately. You pulled him completely out of your mouth.

  He said nothing. Instead he growled. You barely stood up before his mouth was on yours and he was kissing you hard. He pushed you against the nearest wall and hiked your leg up by his hip.

"Tell me you want it," he said in a low voice. It caught you off guard. "What?"

  "Tell me you want my dick, y/n," he was smirking. You HAD control, but not anymore. It was his turn now.

"I want it," you said. He took his cock in his free hand and rubbed it over your clit several times. You whimpered a little. This fucker was paying you back. He positioned his cock at the opening of your pussy and pushed in just a little. Just enough to make you squirm. "What is it that you want, honey?"

"Your cock. I want your cock inside of me. Please, Josh. Please," And just like that he pushed all the way in and you moaned. This was pure heaven. He stayed all the way in before he started fucking you. At first it was slow and hard. He was taking you all in, staring at you with hungry eyes, grabbing your tit and rolling your nipple in his finger. You didn't know where you ended and Josh began, you just knew that this is what you always wanted. You could see sweat rolling down his face and chest. His hair, once slightly damp, was soaked now. He fucked you faster and got into a groove. He went balls deep inside of you with every thrust and it made you see stars. You were no virgin but you had never been fucked like this. He put every feeling he had been bottling up into every thrust and you knew, for the first time, a man was going to make you cum with his dick.

He kissed you hard, cupping your face with his hands. He started fucking you harder and you knew he was close and you were too. Your body began to shudder and you let out a loud scream at the same time as he let out a final moan. As he filled you up, you could feel every muscle in your body tense up, then release. Pure fucking ecstasy. He stayed in you for a few seconds and your eyes met. His dark honey eyes were soft and sweet and he was smiling like he was looking at the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. You couldn't believe that he was choosing you.

He finally broke the silence, "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

You returned the smile and gave him a deep kiss. He finally pulled out and walked over to his clothes. You didn't notice until this point that he had a small bag with him. He bent over and pulled out a few napkins and handed them to you. You gave him a look. "Did you plan this?"

He chuckled, "Like I said, I've wanted it for a while. I wanted to be prepared!" You gave him a smile. You were putting your clothes on and the feelings of heaviness and doom once again creeped in. Fucking around with Josh had been a nice distraction from it. At this point, the sun was almost completely set but it was still bright out. Of course it was a full moon. Crazy shit always seemed to happen on the full moon.

"Ah, a full moon," it was like Josh was reading your mind. "Do you think we'll find something here? The guy I talked to said strange shit always happens." "What guy?", you asked.  You hadn't thought about how Josh might've found this place.

  Josh began to tell the story of him and Jake going to this old dive bar in Charleston. A hole in the wall, so they could drink and eat oysters without anyone bothering them. They began talking to an older regular who told them all about this place and the strange encounters. Everything from people hearing whispers, to people being threatened by things they couldn't see, to people even getting shoved or scratched.

"Scratched? What the fuck?" you said. The stories made you a little more worried than you already were.

"Yeah, fucking scratched. But this church seemed so cool, I really wanted to check it out. Does make me feel a little weird-"

CRACK. You screamed as a massive beam broke from the ceiling. Josh pulled you towards him as the piece of wood crashed onto the ground below, right where you were standing. He pulled you into another hug. You were shaking. God, that thing could have killed you and he saved you. You felt tears well up in your eyes.

"Shhh, shh, now, honey. You're safe, I'm here," once again, he broke away from you, this time to wipe the tears from your eyes. You composed yourself, feeling slightly embarassed that he had to save you like a damsel in distress. "You know, anyone would be scared from that. Fuck, I'm scared, that could've been so much worse."

It was like he read your mind. He let you go and gave you a little kiss on the forehead. "We can go if you want!"

"No, no, I'm fine now," you lied. You weren't fine but you didn't want to show any more vunerabilty tonight than you already had. It was fully dark by now so Josh pulled a small lantern out of his bag. Somehow, seeing everything around you made it even creepier. It made everything look...wrong.

  Your eyes seemed to focus on one thing: the window across the church. Most of the stained glass was gone, except for the edges at the very top. It felt as if someone or something was watching you through it. Josh must've felt it as well because he was squinting at it when you looked over to him. You were still on edge from the beam falling, but you were curious as to what had its eyes on you.

At the same time, you both stepped forward to investigate. "You feel it too," he stated. "Someone is looking at us."

He grabs your hand as you both slowly continue to lessen the distance between yourselves and the window. You had been in many abandoned, haunted buildings with and without Josh but this one felt...real. Dangerous. It was as exciting as it was terrifying. As you got closer, your stomach started doing backflips. Josh squeezed your hand, giving you a small bit of comfort. At least you were not alone.

You were within a yard of the window when you started making out what was beyong it. Trees covered in Spanish moss, an old, unkempt graveyard with headstones cracked and lying on their sides. A worn statue of what looked like a little girl, which made your stomach turned. And just beyond the closest tree, someone.

  "Do you see...?" Josh trailed off. " Hiding behind that tree on the left."

"Yeah, I-" then you realized the tree you were looking at was on the right. You looked to the left. There was another person. Your stomach dropped and you stopped breathing. "Josh, there's two of them."

"If only that was the case, sweetheart," Josh said. His voice was a low whisper. He was right: everywhere you looked outside, there was a figure. They all had hoods and robes so you couldn't see their faces. None of them moved and despite not seeing their faces, you could feel all of their eyes on you.

  "We gotta get the fuck out of here," you could barely hear your voice come out of your mouth. You were frozen in fear. THUMP THUMP THUMP.  Your heart was beating so hard you were sure everything out there could hear it.

You saw one stir out of the corner of your eye but before you could process it, you were being pulled towards the door. Josh had seen it move before you did and was taking you to the truck. Your legs were involuntarily running. He opened the doors up with his body and led you through towards the truck. The slightly cooler air would've felt great in any other circumstance.

  You glanced behind you and those hooded figures were no longer stationary, they were running after you. The truck was only a few feet away but it felt like a mile. Josh unlocked the truck as you approached it. Your hands broke free of one another as he got into the driver seat and you in the passenger. The doors slammed at the same time and he locked the doors just as the first figure caught up and slammed his hand on the window. It then that you realized...

The hooded figures were not human. They had human features: skin, eyes, nose, mouth, but they weren't human.  Everything was there, but slightly...off.  Like a very realistic mask. You had never been more terrified than you were in the moment when that creepy fuck was banging its very large hand on your window. You felt the car lurch backwards and there was a thud. "SHIT! FUCK!" One of them had been hit and you could feel the wheels roll over them. Josh quickly put the truck in drive and ran it over again as he sped down the dirt road. You turned around and they had all stopped and stared at you. The one that had been run over, the one you were sure was dead, lifted itself up and stood back up. 

What. The. FUCK.

Josh pulled onto the highway so fast the tires squealed. You couldn't see the church from the highway but you could see those humanoid creatures had walked onto the highway to stare at you leaving. They weren't trying to catch up, they were just...staring.

Josh didn't let off the accelerator until the truck hit 90 and you begged him to slow down.

"What if they're following us?", his voice cracking a little. It was a little comforting to know he was as scared as you were.

  "I promise you they're not. They would've gotten us by now," you replied. He nodded and took several deep breaths. For a while you sat in silence, both trying to process the events of the night.

  After what felt like hours of silence, you pipe up. "Did you know they have alligators here?"

Josh started to laugh. His face lit up as if you'd brought him back to life. "We just ran for our lives from inhuman creatures and you bring up alligators to break the tension? You're so cute."

You blushed and held back a smile. "I just thought, you know, a fun fact would make you feel better."

"Baby, just your presence is enough for me, but thanks," you could tell he meant it. He reached over and grabbed your hand. When he stopped at the next stop sign, he leaned in and gave you a passionate kiss.

You finally arrived back in Charleston. As you pulled up to your hotel, you expected him to stop, but he drove right past it.

"Did you forget to take me back?" you asked, but you already knew what he was about to say. Your stomach was doing back flips again, but this time it was out of excitement.

"You're staying with us," he said. He seemed serious. "I don't want you to be alone. You can stay in my bedroom and I'll take the couch."

"That's absolutely not happening, Josh. You're not sleeping on the couch. Unless you just don't want to sleep with me."

  "Of course I do," he scoffed. "I was being a gentleman!"

You gave a little coy grin as he pulled into their rental house. It was exactly what you expected from a home in Charleston. An old home on a narrow lot, lawn perfectly manicured and home beautifully restored. It had a wrap around porch with a matching balcony. As you walked up the brick steps into the side door, you noticed the haint blue ceiling on the porch and brooms by every outside doorway. Those old southern tales ran deep.

The side door led right into the kitchen, which was huge and gorgeous. Equally as gorgeous were the men in the kitchen. Danny and Sam were making themselves cocktails while Jake was making a massive meal.

"HONEY I'M HOME," Josh yelled, causing all three of them to look up. Not a single one of them looked surprised.

"Well, its about time!" Sam said, almost as loudly as Josh yelled. "Dinner's almost done and you just roll on in last minute!"

Jake looked over his shoulders and gave you a smile. "Did he finally make a move?"

"I-well-"

"-you don't have to answer him, y/n," Josh said. "Sorry, you know how they can be..."

"We're just...joshing around hahaha," Sam gave Josh a nudge that earned him a dark glare. Then he made his way over to you and gave you a big hug. "How ya doin?"

"Good, good," you manage to reply. The Kiszkas were loud and joked around a lot but they were all so kind and caring towards you. Danny finished his drink and walked over, giving you a tight hug as well.

"For real, we're happy for you," he said. "Josh has been carrying a torch for you for a while."

"OKAY, well, we're going to freshen up bye now," Josh pulled you through the kitchen and up the nearest stairwell. It led up to a hallway lined with doors and he led you to the last one.

"It was my turn this time, I get the biggest room," he said. It was massive. Facing the door was a huge, brick fireplace. Across from the fireplace was what looked like the most comfortable bed you've ever seen. Then you noticed the French doors that led to the balcony.

"God, its beautful," you whispered. You had never been in a place so nice before. You crossed the room straight to the doors. You opened them up and the breeze hit your face. The night air was cool, a stark difference from the day time. You could see lights everywhere and tourists walking excitedly down the sidewalks. The steeples of churches in the Holy City were everywhere. You sat down in the nearest rocking chair. Josh sat down in the one beside it.

"Sorry about them," he said again. "Brothers, you know?"

"Oh," you laughed. You honestly expected their reactions. "I don't mind."

Josh didn't respond. You were confused because his expression was odd..melancholy, inquisitive...dark.

"What are you thinking about?" Dread filled your body because you already knew. The air seemed to get colder, the night seemed to get darker, and the only person that mattered at this moment was Josh.

"What do you think those things were?" he asked. You had spent the entire ride home thinking about the creatures. They weren't human, that was for sure, but beyond that, you only had guesses.

"Zombies?" you blurted out, knowing good and damn well they weren't. Josh shook his head. "You and I both know they weren't zombies."

You turned your attention back out to the streets. A ghost tour was walking by. The guide was carrying a lantern at eye level, leading all the tourists to their next spooky destination. You wondered how they would react to the creatures you saw at the old church. You turned again to Josh, who was deep in thought. The silence on the balcony seemed to drown out the people below, as your focus was only on him. You knew what he was going to say next and your heart sank when he finally said those five words.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Date: December 29, 2003

Contact: Lila St. James – Insider Media

Phone: (646)-376-0098

HEADLINE: SOCIALITE’S LATEST ESCAPADE RAISES EYEBROWS

[NEW YORK CITY, NY] – Sources from Manhattan’s social and financial circles report that a prominent young socialite has once again become the center of attention following a string of late-night outings and activities that some observers describe as questionable at best and reckless at worst. Insiders say the socialite’s behavior in recent weeks appears increasingly impulsive, poorly judged, and far from the decorum traditionally expected of her family’s standing.

According to multiple eyewitnesses, recent appearances at exclusive private parties and high-profile venues have sparked a mixture of fascination and concern among her peers. “It’s the kind of conduct that makes people whisper,” said one anonymous source. “Her charm and connections are undeniable, but there’s no denying that her choices have left some wondering whether glamour alone can cover repeated lapses in judgment.”

While the socialite has not publicly addressed the mounting speculation, those close to the family reportedly worry about potential repercussions. Not only for her own reputation but for the carefully curated image of her household. Observers note that the combination of secrecy, indulgence, and apparent disregard for consequences has already generated considerable chatter within Manhattan’s elite social circles.

In a particularly dramatic incident, the socialite was reportedly seen leaving a penthouse in the Upper East Side late last night, just hours before a heated altercation at The Penrose Bar, according to sources. Though the details remain unconfirmed, the event has only added fuel to the speculation surrounding her recent behavior.

As the story continues to develop, social and business insiders alike are closely monitoring the situation. The public is left to question: How long can appearances mask behavior that insiders describe as reckless, indulgent, and potentially damaging? And what impact will these repeated controversies have on the socialite’s standing among New York’s elite?

[Photo Caption: “Y/N leaving an exclusive Upper East Side Penthouse last night — reportedly hours before an altercation at The Penrose Bar.”] [Photo Credit: X19 Online]

###

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Join The Taglist