Greta Van Fleet // Oneshots

Like Spring // Josh Kiszka *SMUT*

Warnings: smut alert! [oral sex; unprotected sex] 18+ read at your own discretion.

A little while back I got a request  for some soft, sweet morning sex with Josh. Ask & you shall receive! Thank you for the request & I hope you enjoy.

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It didn't feel any different than the past few months, waking up with an empty space beside you. This morning, however, that empty space was still a little warm, and you rolled over to lay your arm over it, your hand poking past the covers which had been carefully laid back over you. The empty space smelled like Josh too, and you sighed as your conscious brain started to slowly come to life even with your eyes still closed.

Gradually, the world intercepted your senses–Josh's lingering scent on your sheets, the bright morning light streaming past the curtains, the softness of your covers and the clanging and metallic clinks coming from the kitchen. You opened your eyes and stretched, the clinking of silverware and dishes ringing louder in your ears, and awoke enough to get to the bathroom where a splash of water on your face and the "invigorating" spearmint toothpaste was enough to get you alert.

Then there was Josh himself, who made you feel completely awake and alive when you saw him in the kitchen, busying himself with cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them. Coffee was brewing; a pan was heating up on the stove with a pad of butter slowly melting in it; bread was being toasted and there were strawberries waiting to be sliced on a cutting board.

He was so busy whisking the eggs and humming to himself that he didn't even notice you coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around him.

"Good morning," you said, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"Good morning, gorgeous," Josh chirped, tilting his head to rest on top of yours for a second. "You woke up early, I was going to bring you breakfast in bed."

You glanced at the clock on the stove. "It's not that early. Besides, isn't that good?" you asked, nuzzling him. "After months apart, I think we need all the time together that we can get."

"Good point," he replied, giving the eggs another whisk with the fork. "Just a few more minutes and everything will be done."

You let him go, watching him as he went to the stove and poured the eggs in. "Anything I can do?"

"You wanna butter the toast?"

"That I can do," you replied, waiting for the bread to pop up from its heated slats, then grabbed a knife and slathered both pieces with butter, Josh still working on the eggs, folding cheese into them.

Once everything was plated, Josh shooed you back into the bedroom, insisting that it should really be breakfast in bed, and he delivered both plates, then retreated back into the kitchen to bring back coffee and orange juice, walking slowly and carefully with the two mugs hooked in his right hand and the two glasses of orange juice gripped in his left, looking like an acrobat walking across a tightrope.

Breakfast with Josh was always one of your favorite experiences–he became so committed to the food and making the entire meal special, both with the food itself and with being so kindly adamant about doting on you. You liked to make it up to him when you both went out for breakfast, with you insisting on paying for both of you, which would always be a bit of a battle. Eventually though, Josh would relent with a huff and slink back against the booth, but you would catch the little smile at the corner of his lips each time.

You also made it up by gathering and doing the dishes, although on this morning, you just left them in the sink for a later time. Josh had gotten in too late the night before, both of you tired as much as you were elated to see one another, so you were still craving something and it wasn't more strawberries.