#Greta x Francis

[drawings-and-sketches]

(Video ID: A bunch of fanart of different people from different fandoms. Nine images in total, consisting of, in order, Sportacus and Robbie, Greta and Varney, Will and Nico, Percy and Annabeth, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover from the Percy Jackson tv show, Lucy and Lockwood, with the text "Oh no she's/he's hot.", Ruthven and Grisaille, Shelby (Shubble, Witchcraft SMP) and Katherine (Katherine Elizabeth, Empires smp s2), with the text "I missed you too Katherine!", and Granada Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. To the music of L-O-V-E sung by Nat King Cole. End ID)

Some of these are platonic and some are romantic (it specifies in the video, and I will put it in the tags as well) but for the most part, it is up for interpretation. I will be posting the images at some point with proper IDs for each one.

Poses for images 1, 3, 4, and 8 are from @linnushi, found here, the pose in image 5 is from @croxovergoddess, found here, and the pose in image 9 is found here (It's a YouTube video on how to draw people hugging- I used the final result as a reference). Please make sure to credit them if you decide to do the pose as well!

[anthemofgvf]

Teacher’s Pet: Sam Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

description: when college becomes more interesting from your history with your music professor, you decide to take him up on a private piano lesson to rekindle what once was.

word count: 6.6k+

trope: student reader x professor sam (college au!)

taglist for future fics

warnings after cut…

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warnings: large amount of plot, angst, smut (18+ minors dni!), voyeurism, soft dom! sam, fluff, teacher x adult reader, inappropriate relations, swearing, begging, fingering, oral (fem! and male receiving), handjob, overstimulation, praise kink, unprotected sex, minimal aftercare

a/n: this may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s okay! would also like to reiterate that reader IS a legal adult. i figured that would be clear considering this is a college au but i just wanted to state it once before the story itself does. all actions are consensual, and i do not condone un-consensual acts. with that being said, enjoy;)

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Starting college at Michigan State University at the age of twenty-one, you walked onto campus with a sense of anticipation and determination that set yourself apart from your younger peers. Your journey to this point had been conventional, marked by years of playing piano at home purely for joy, and finding an intense passion for music itself. Now, as a music theory major, you were ready to immerse yourself in the academic study of music, eager to delve into the intricacies of composition, harmony, and the structures that underpin the art form you love. Your path to college might have been delayed, but your passion for music had only grown stronger with time, making your arrival at the university both a new beginning and a cumulation of years of dedication.

But you were gifted a surprise on your first day in your "Music Theory 101" class when you sat near the front - only a few rows back on the far left, and your professor walked in. The cool fall air of Michigan allowed for him to wear a navy blue long-sleeve and a multicolored-purple scarf, with grey plaid dress pants. He clearly was taller than most, but the boots that he paired with his outfit granted him a few extra inches.

You started to analyze the features of his face, seeing something so familiar in him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. His long, brunette hair that held a light wave with a well-kept mustache and goatee. Something about his eyes were the most recognizable to you with the way they scanned the room slowly, then focusing in on papers on his podium. And as soon as he began to speak and introduce himself to you and your peers, the memories came flooding back into your brain, and you had to hold yourself back from gasping. But you couldn't contain your eyes from widening.

"Hello everyone," he began, "welcome to 'Music Theory 101.'" He said with a smile. "I'm Professor Kiszka, and I'll be teaching this course. I've been teaching music theory for about three years now."

You knew who he was. He was Mr. Kiszka, or Sam, as back then you were able to call him that because he wasn't the hugest fan of being called 'Mr. Kiszka'. He was your student teacher your senior year of high school in your band class. He would help your teacher as if he were a teacher's aide, yet also helped teach the class and was a mentee to your teacher. You couldn't even believe your chances of having him as an actual teacher, let alone even seeing his face again. And God, how he has changed from the guy you once knew. But he'd always be 'Sam' to you, whether you'd call him by his first name or not. You preferred not to take your chances anyways.

You and he had created a small friendship, or better described as a mutualistic relationship, but it went nowhere beyond because being friends would cross the boundaries that the school board had put into place. But it was more than likely for the better, because you had a massive crush on him that accumulated over time with the semester. You were keen to his wit, his attention to detail - his talent in music. Not to mention he had a great sense of humor and was outgoing that paired perfectly with his great looks. You remembered being saddened that you were not going to see him again after your last class of the semester, and while although he gave you a hug and a smile, he had said to you,

"You'll see me again, y/n, I'm sure of it," with a wink.

And somehow, he had predicted the future.

After he gave the class a short introduction, which you surely had missed from reminiscing about the past, he had begun to read down the list of students for attendance. Your heart began to bang against your ribcage with anticipation, with wonderance of if he would even remember you. After all, you were just another student he saw in the school day.

"Y/n L/n?" He had called out, searching for you amongst the crowd.

You shot your eyes up, looking at him as you lightly raised your hand and said, "Here."

He smiled at you, the same smile he always wore. His eyes lightly squinted, and his face lit up with a knowing expression.

"You went to Frankenmuth High School, right?" He pointed his pen out to you with his teeth still on display.

"Yeah, yeah I did." You nodded.

You felt everyone's eyes on you - all 40 something students that filled the lecture hall. He remembered you, and you had forgotten how nervous you would get when his eyes lingered upon you for too long. Surely your face was flushed pink for the whole class to examine, but you were praying the lights were dim enough to hide your complexion.

"It's nice to see you again, y/n." He nodded towards you, closing his mouth to soften his smile and focus his attention back onto the list and calling out other names.

The entire class all you could do was watch his facial expressions, the way he walked and used his hands in conversation and lecture. The way his hair flew with his head whenever he changed directions, the way his voice articulated words. And, surely watching him give the class a demonstration on the piano was going to be the death of you. Time had made him more attractive, and his knowledge of you was somehow a worser fate than going unknown.

He put his whole body into his demonstration, leaning into the keys and throwing his head back every so often. His shoulders would raise in a rigid motion, then relaxing back down whilst his fingers danced along the white keys. You began to press your thighs tightly together and place your fist over your mouth as you watched him intently. You were unsure of how you were going to survive this class for a semester.

But after that first day, he had called you over to his podium. Although the conversation was light, asking you how you've been, wondering what you were going to college for exactly, you couldn't help but feel unprepared to talk to him. He always had a way with words, and anything that came out of his mouth was pure poetry. You just felt like you were blabbing nonsense to him. But he cared what you had to say. He laughed at your jokes, nodded along to show you he was listening. He had not changed one bit after all these years, other than time aging him only enough to present himself as more of a mature adult, but his striking personality stayed intact.

As the semester went on, and you stopping by Sam's desk every so often after class, assignments were assigned. One big project that was presented was to perform a cover on the piano that showcased your level of talent on the keys - 30 measures to be exact. A different assignment was given to those who were incapable of playing the piano, which was to compose a piece instead on an instrument of their choosing, but you took the route of playing on the instrument you enjoyed the most.

With this assignment, he had allowed students to make appointments with him during his office hours for free lessons and guidance on their piece. And as soon as he had announced this, you had booked an appointment.

And that's where you were headed right now: A one-on-one meeting with Professor Kiszka. To say you were nervous was an understatement. His attention was all yours, and there was no avoiding his gaze by sinking into your chair. The only thing that you had repeated in your head was that he was no stranger, and you knew how to hold a conversation with him. Act normal, you said to yourself, act normal.

You pushed open one of the large doors of the classroom that groaned and creaked as it allowed your entrance. Sam had his back to you from across the lecture hall, hunched over as he played a song that was unrecognizable to you on the piano. Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful.

The doors slammed shut behind you as you walked in, which caught Sam's attention. He whipped his head over his shoulder as his fingers relaxed from the keys, and he lifted his wrist up to examine his watch.

"Guess it is that time, huh?" He said out loud, although he was mainly speaking to himself. "Come on in, y/n."

"Forgot I was coming in, Professor Kiszka?" You said with a smirk.

"I'm always forgetting the time as it passes," he chuckled lightly, "surely you'll forgive me."

You walked over to him as he rose from the bench with a light smile, extending his arm towards the piano to motion for you to sit. He wore an ironed white button down, and worn-out jeans that have seen better days. Casual attire: a bit astray from what he normally wears.

You stopped in front of him. "I guess just this once I will." You said to him, then taking your seat on the bench and keeping your posture straightened.

"Alright, y/n," he shook his head with a smile, "what's your song of choice then? Can't pick anything you've played for me before."

You cocked your head to the side as you gave him a pondering look. "There's no way you remember anything I played three years ago."

He pressed his lips together and thought for a moment, then looking down to you with a smile.

"Maybe I do, or maybe I don't. Just seems like you're trying to stall on playing your piece for me." He said to you. "There's nothing to be nervous about, y/n."

You shook your head with a light sigh. "I'll have to test your memory another time then."

He nodded at you. "So, what piece of music did you choose?"

"I chose 'Rhapsody in Blue,' sir." You spoke to him. "I remember you performing it for the class after finals were over, and I've been in love with the piece ever since."

He seemed almost shocked that he had made such an impact on you, one that was still intact after all these years. He gave you an earnest, genuine smile as he placed his hand on his heart.

"It means a lot to me that I played an influential role in your musical journey. Did you learn it after I performed the piece?" He asked.

You nodded with a giggle. "Embarrassingly yes, yes I did." You refrained from eye contact as you felt your face becoming hot.

He raised a brow. "So, this is a piece you're familiar with?" You looked back to him with a singular nod. "Then what is your reasoning for spending time with me during my office hours, y/n? I never knew of you to not be confident in yourself."

You stuck your tongue into your cheek. "Just wanted to make sure that I was playing the piece up to par, and I so happen to enjoy our conversations. Figured we'd be able to catch up a bit during this meeting."

"Is that so, y/n?" He smirked at you. His tongue ran across his bottom lip as he looked down at you. It was almost as if there were words that lingered upon his tongue, yet he was unable to muster the courage to let them roll off smoothly. He had opened his mouth for a moment, then shut it with a grin. "Well, then how about we see how well you can perform this piece, huh? If there's enough time after, I don't see anything wrong with catching up a bit more." His grin was near seductive, although he was talking about a topic pure as white. Something about the way his eyes captivated yours that had your body telling you to either look away flustered, or to hold onto his eyes to match his intimidating gaze.

But rather than look at him any longer, you chose to take in a deep breath in preparation to perform for him. You straightened yourself up once more and saw him leave your sight from the corner of your eye.

"Just a bit too tense, y/n." He said softly to you, placing his hands onto your shoulders gently. "Relax for me."

As if that sentence alone didn't have you feeling even more tense, you closed your eyes and found it within yourself to relax, and to forget that it was Sam's doing for making your nerves skyrocket.

You began the piece, fluttering your eyes open and playing it as you learned it. Some of your mannerisms matched the way Sam played the piece - at least back then, just because you admired how beautiful he looked whilst performing. You were certain that if he hadn't become a teacher, he'd be on a stage performing in front of thousands.

You were lost in the music, lost in your motions and the way your fingers traveled alongst the keys in perfect harmony. So lost that you hadn't realized Sam's hands had left your shoulders, moving to stand near the front of the piano, watching you perform. All you could do was focus on playing as perfectly as you could for him, because if you were to look up and see his admiring stare, you would have forgotten the rest of the piece.

And so, you finished, watching your fingers dance along the last few keys and resting your hands onto your thighs, keeping your eyes down only for a moment before cautiously allowing yourself to look up and see his chin resting into his palm, wearing a large grin that he never seemed to wipe from his face.

"That was," he began to stride slowly towards you, "near perfection."

You followed his movements with your eyes. "Near?"

He sat next to you on the bench, holding onto your eyes. "You lost yourself a bit with the tempo, is all. I'm not shameful to a bit of artistic expression, but that would be for another project. But it's nothing that can't be fixed quickly."

"So, then it's a good thing that I made this appointment, hm? Without your expertise I wouldn't have known to slow down a bit." You said to him.

He huffed a laugh with an amused expression. "What's your game here? Sarcasm or flattery?"

You took a glance at his parted lips, locking eyes with him again. "Your guidance, Professor Kiszka."

He shook his head at you with a knowing look yet dismissing your counter remark and sliding closer to you.

"Well, for one, you should raise your arms a bit higher above the keys." He slid his hands under your forearms and raised them up slightly, being ever-so gentle with his touch. With how close he peered over your shoulder, you were certain if you were to turn to him, your nose would brush against his.

However, you wouldn't have been bothered by it if it were to occur. The opportunity presented itself when he had willingly brought himself even closer to you. Whether you would dare to do it was not on your mind right now, as you were tuning into the feeling of his coarse hands holding your forearms and making them weightless.

You could feel his exhaled breath just barely hit the side of your neck, and your body almost reacted with a shudder. Rather, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and suddenly you had become more aware of how many breaths you were taking in.

"And to help keep tempo," Sam slowly slid his hands off your arms, placing his hand lightly onto your thigh, "I'll tap on beat." He said as he began tapping onto your jeans lightly.

You dared to turn towards him and flick your eyes at his parted lips, locking onto his stare and feeling the inability to look away. You were certain the face you were displaying was one of desperation, of want.

But to him, it didn't appear that way. "Is this...okay?" He had said with a hint of worry. Maybe he didn't want to read into your facial expressions too much.

"Yes, yes it's okay." You gave him a reassured smile, along with a small nod, and tore yourself away from his gaze.

You began to play once more, trying to keep your mind on your fingers hitting the keys at the right pace rather than the fact that Sam's hand was on your thigh. The act was supposed to be innocent, a teacher merely helping his student perfect their piece, but to you, it was hard to feel anything pure towards your professor.

With the way his chin nearly rested onto your shoulder, to his steady breaths that matched yours as you played, to the low humming you could hear in your ear as your fingers danced along the piano. How did he expect you to focus when he was closer to you than ever before? When all you were thinking about was how easily it would be to kiss him, to give into him.

"What's on your mind, y/n?" He whispered to you.

You had continued playing, trying to keep up with the tempo he had set on your thigh.

"What do you mean?" You said without missing a beat.

"I can tell you're not focused. You're playing the piece properly, but your mind is somewhere else." He removed his hand from your thigh, which caused you to stop playing.

You turned to him. "I'm just a bit distracted, that's all. I'm sorry, Professor." You pressed your lips together, flicking your eyes down to avoid his gaze. A low sigh escaped his mouth as he watched gravity tilt your head down.

But then you felt his finger hook under your chin, lifting it up to meet his eyes. Every detail of his face was on display, and you couldn't focus your eyes on a single piece of his complexion - it was all something you wanted to remember so intricately.

"Am I distracting you?" He took a glance at your lips only for a discreet moment, then focusing in on your eyes and searched within them for an answer that you had yet to put out into the air.

"Maybe," you began, "what if I said that you were?"

Your bold statement had nearly taken him aback, with his hand removing itself from under your chin, and a light chuckle with the shake of his head as he composed himself. His hand ran to the back of his neck, then finding its resting place on the top of his thigh.

He leaned back slightly, the playful glint in his eyes dimming to something more contemplative. "Then I'd have to ask why," he murmured, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. "Why do you find me distracting?" The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken words and unsaid possibilities, leaving you teetering on the edge of where his mind was at.

You took a hard swallow, tugging at the inside of your bottom lip and praying that you weren't about to make an embarrassing mistake.

Your heart raced as you decided to take the plunge. "Because" you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've never been able to keep myself composed long enough around you. And, now that we're alone, it's become increasingly hard to even think straight."

His eyes widened slightly, the seriousness of your confession hanging between you two like a fragile thread.

He moved closer, his warm breath just barely grazing the tip of your nose. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing," he said softly, his lips hovering just inches from yours, leaving you breathless and wondering if he was about to close the distance between you. "But you know what the rules are, right, y/n?"

"Do you plan on getting caught?" Your question hung in the air, heavy with implication. You felt a shiver run down your spine as the reality of the situation hit you. How the proximity had almost fizzled out in between you, the way Sam held your eyes in the most captivating way, taking only a millisecond to peak at your lips before returning to your gaze.

"Didn't know of you to be such a risk taker, y/n." He said to you with a steady voice.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your chest. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sam," you replied, your voice just as steady, matching his intensity.

His gaze flickered with curiosity and something deeper, something that made your pulse quicken more than it already was. "Sam?" He smirked. "As much as I like you calling me 'Professor,' I've missed hearing you say my name."

"I'll say it as many times as you want me to," you said softly, flicking your eyes to his lips before returning back to his gaze.

"Then start now," he murmured, his tone a blend of challenge and invitation. He inched closer, his breath mingling with yours, the space between you almost nonexistent now.

"Sam," you barely voiced.

"Again." He said as his lips were just barely brushing against yours. His hand gently traced the line of your jaw.

"Sam." You repeated for him.

He closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was a risk, practically whimpering into his mouth the second you got a taste whatever flavored ChapStick he wore.

His hand cupped your cheek, while his other hand rested on your thigh. You willingly fell into the touch, placing one of your hands onto his white button down, and the other beginning to tangle itself in his hair. You were merely breathless with the deepening of the kiss quickly becoming apparent, and now you were just desperate to run your hands under his shirt - to feel his warm skin under your touch.

Without unlocking your lips from his, you began to unbutton his shirt, and while he noticed, he allowed you to continue, pulling the shirt off of his shoulders and throwing it wherever it may land onto the ground.

His fingers crept under the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up to let every inch of your body feel that singular motion, and as soon as the tips of his fingers hit your bra, you were removing your mouth from his and finishing the job.

"You're eager." He teased at you, tugging at your bottom lip as he encapsulated your lips onto his again.

Instead of giving him a pitiful response into his mouth, you undid your bra with little struggle and threw it off of you whilst scooting yourself closer to your professor. His cold hands almost stung against your bare sides, yet soothed your heated skin as he ran them up slowly, finding your breasts and toying with them tenderly. A soft whine escaped out of your mouth, and in return, his mouth made its journey of running from your jawline, then to your neck, and to your collarbone.

Before you had even realized it, your hand was sliding down his chest, finding his bulge and cupping it. His groan vibrated against your neck, sucking lightly and digging his teeth into your neck as you threw your head back.

You had found yourself already breathless, squeezing your thighs together as your mind wondered to the inevitable. You lightly squeezed on Sam's bulge, hoping that he would mutter another sound for you to listen to.

But he removed himself from you with a heaving chest, unbuckling his belt as he stood up in front of you. While his eyes were first locked in at undoing the material holding up his pants, he then looked to you, pulling and shimmying off his jeans that were caught at his ankles. His briefs followed suit with his motion, and his cock sprung out in front of you.

Without hesitation, you had wrapped your hand around his length, keeping his eyes locked on yours as you pursed your lips and allowed spit to dribble from your mouth onto his cock. His mouth parted slightly, watching as your hand ran up and down him at an agonizingly slow pace. You gave him a small smile, one that had him caressing the side of your face and running his hand to the back of your head.

As he tousled with your hair, you pressed your lips softly onto his tip, then sliding him into your mouth. You watched as he threw his head back, groaning in a deep sigh and lightly tugging at the hair on the back of your head. You kept your hand pumping slowly at his base, while your head bobbed up and down his length.

The sensation of your soft, skilled mouth moving with rhythmic precision drew a deep moan from his lips. Your tongue danced expertly, exploring every inch, while your eyes remained fixed on his as he let his head fall back down towards you, drinking in every reaction. He was entranced with your motions and the way you effortlessly brought him such bliss.

His breathing had become unsteady, tugging at his bottom lip as he tugged your hair back which in return removed your mouth from him. You looked up to him eagerly, and in silence, he slowly fell to his knees at your mercy.

He looked beautiful bowed before you, unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans in a fluid motion, then dipping his thumbs under the denim, and wrapping his hands onto your sides that were hugged by the material. He slid them down slowly, and while doing so, you had lifted yourself up just enough to aid him in fully removing your jeans and panties. He had tossed them to the side, and once he looked back to you, your legs were pressed together.

You had found yourself shy with the vulnerability shared with him. Fully exposed to Sam, permanently imprinting this image of yourself in his brain that he would not dare to allow slip from his mind. His hands came to your knees as he noticed the sudden pink hue in your face.

"Open your legs for me, pretty girl." He said in a hoarse voice whilst he massaged your kneecaps. His demand was calm, and not one that meant to rush you. And you could feel the soothing, comforting energy that he was emulating in this moment that had you realizing he found you breathtaking - every single part of you.

So, you gave in willingly, looking at him with lustful eyes as you spread your legs apart slowly. His eyes were locked in onto your heat. Your bare form was being traced by his eyes, marveling at the curvatures of your body that seemed almost ethereal to him. He could not bring himself to speak a word, but rather sigh in reverence as his head inched closer and closer in between your thighs. It was if he was at your mercy, willing to give up anything and everything just to please you.

His lips pressed softly against the inners of your left thigh, and you had found yourself gasping lightly with a choked breath at the tender impact. Your hand relaxed at the back of his head as you massaged it, just as he did for you before, and a small grin curled onto his lips as he pressed more, soft kisses against your thighs, even sucking softly onto the skin. You were on the verge of begging for his mouth on you but resisted the urgency to see how Sam wanted to navigate himself around your body.

He raised his middle and ring finger to you, looking up at you submissively before uttering a soft, "open," to you. You quickly obeyed, parting your lips and letting him insert his fingers into your mouth, and resting them onto your tongue. You sucked slowly onto his fingers, swirling your tongue around his digits and allowing him to withdrawal them from your mouth.

And he kept his eyes locked on yours, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly inserted his two fingers inside of you. You gasped lightly, jolting forward with your back arched and your hands smashed onto the keys of the piano behind you as Sam curled his fingers. He broke from your eyes to see your hands clenched onto the keys and allowed a small smirk to curl onto his lips. He let that be his only reaction and continued to move his fingers.

You threw your head back as his other hand snaked up your body and lightly massaged your left breast. Your eyes were barely shut, mouth agape and allowing any sound bubbling in your throat out quietly. You had tugged onto the back of his head harshly as soon as you felt his tongue onto your clit, with your thighs squeezing tightly around his head and muffling your moans. As much as he wanted to push your legs apart to listen to every melodic sound that came from your mouth, he wasn't going take away from your bliss.

His tongue circled around your clit at a steady pace, with his fingers quickening to draw your moans out even more. You were tugging at your bottom lip as you rolled your hips into Sam's motions. You couldn't help but admire the view below you: your professor's eyes shut softly, seeming perfectly content in between your legs as he licked and sucked at your clit. He was already in tune with your body, knowing what made you feel good, and exactly what to do to send you over the edge.

You felt the knowing pressure in the pit of your stomach; a knot desperate to be unraveled by your orgasm. Your moans became strained - whiney.

"Sam, fuck, just like that." You slurred. Your hand had yet again found itself bracing against the keys of the piano, pressing a multitude of keys that didn't make the most beautiful melody, but the irony of that was it didn't matter what it sounded like. It mattered how it felt, which it perfectly conveyed.

You were arching your back away from the piano as your thighs trembled around Sam's head, calling out his name once more as your head fell forward and your breathing quickened. You alerted him of your orgasm, and all he did was continue his motions, calming them and seizing their existence after dragging out your high.

"You okay?" He looked up to you, removing his fingers slowly from your entrance and encapsulating them into his mouth to lick them clean.

You shuddered, and quickly swallowed and nodded at him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." You laughed lightly.

He rose from his knees, standing before you still fully erect. You had forgotten how perfectly carved his abdomen was, how desirable him in his vulnerably, bare entirety was.

His fingers pressed from below your chin, lifting your eyes up to his own and holding a soft smile yet again.

"Are you okay to keep going?"

You smiled at him and his concern that just barely washed over his face.

"Yes, Sam." You nodded, reaching out for his face and him almost immediately complying.

He smashed his lips onto yours as you pulled yourself up from the bench. Your bodies melted into each other in a feverish rush, hands frantically exploring once more to remember the feeling of each other's skin. His hand had found the small of your back, guiding you to rotate to where you were now standing where he originally was.

His mouth kept on yours, slowly sitting down onto the bench and losing your lips with the action. You stood before him, watching his eyes fall to your thighs, where his hands began running slowly up and stopping at your waist.

He met your eyes again with his tongue darting out in between his lips. His touch was both tentative and possessive, as if memorizing every curve and contour. You could feel the heat radiating from his palms and igniting that fire once more.

He pulled you closer, his grip firm yet gentle, urging you to straddle his lap. As you settled into him, he had a hand on the base of his cock, dragging it alongst your sensitive folds that had you whimpering from the slight overstimulation. He looked to you once more to look for any sign of discomfort, but you placed your hands onto his shoulders, and lined yourself up with him.

You had sunk down onto him slowly and could not help breathing a relieved moan. He, on the other hand, released a guttural groan as you fully rested with him completely inside of you. His hands gripped onto your hips, breathing already unsteady, and beginning to guide you at a slow pace.

"Shit, y/n," he breathed, "you feel so perfect." He watched you grind your hips into him and continued. "You are so perfect."

You ran a hand from his shoulder and to his neck, finding his cheek and giving him a lustful smile. You were warm around his bare cock, tight and sucking him in perfectly. Your mind was dizzy with the thought of this all being a reality unfolding at this very moment; dizzy with the way he was making you feel.

You began to bounce at a steady pace, feeling his hips buck into you lightly to help alleviate some of the work on your end. He could tell you were tired. You were lazily chasing your next orgasm, although desperate for yours again and to help him find his, but your energy almost begged to deny it.

His left hand found a home onto the piano keys for leverage, lightly wincing at the sudden noise that filled the nearly silent room. You looked at him and smiled lightly, holding back your laughter at the noise.

"Doesn't sound too good." You teased.

He shook his head at you, furrowing his brows as he battled full euphoria taking over his being and disallowing a response from him. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to focus, the dissonant chord fading into the background of his awareness.

With a slow, deliberate movement, his thumb pressed into your hipbone, anchoring himself in the reality of your presence. The look in his eyes was a mix of passion and frustration, struggling to form words but failing as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed him.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent promise that you understood. His fingers flexed on the piano keys, creating a soft, accidental melody that echoed the unspoken rhythm of your connection. Even when he's not trying, he can make something beautiful out of a small mistake.

Yours and his's movements became quicker, both of you voicing your satisfaction with breathy moans, mixing swears and each other's names into the lustful air. Your hand ran to the back of his head, tousling with the damp hair and resting your forehead onto his. You both were a sweaty mess, which had you and him sticking to one another. It would be a battle to unravel yourself from him after this, but you warranted that.

He had a harsher grip onto your hip. His fingers dug into the plush skin while his thrusts became unsteady. He removed his hand from the piano and let you carry the pace on as his thumb circled onto your clit. You called out to him in a hushed moan, feeling your second orgasm creeping up quickly. Even though you warned him, he did not care. He wanted that.

"Cum for me again, y/n." He quickened his finger, pressing down onto your lower stomach. "Cum. For. Me." He repeated with gritted teeth.

Your eyebrows pulled together, locking your eyes with his as you reached your high almost immediately and pulled your head back from him with a hand pressed against his chest. You trembled against him and rode yourself through your high, with a high-pitched gasp shooting out from your mouth while you squeezed around him. And although your head was still fuzzy, you kept going for him.

He muttered your name in a warning, lifting you up from his lap just enough for him to pull out from you. You had sat yourself onto the middle portion of his thighs, far enough for him to finish himself off by painting his stomach and hand with his cum. You couldn't tear your eyes from him as he heaved and looked at the mess he had made, lightly chuckling to himself. You found his laughter and matched it, tucking your bottom lip behind your front teeth and smiling.

He reached for your lips once more, pressing a gentle, meaningful kiss onto your mouth as he cupped your cheek with his dry hand. And once your lips parted from his, you found the pattern of his breathing and controlled your own to emulate his.

He lifted his wrist to look at the time, and you in turn gave him a puzzled look whilst throwing your arms around his neck.

"Have another appointment today?" You said to him with slight disappointment. You had almost forgotten where you two were.

"I unfortunately do." He replied. "And I'd suggest we should clean ourselves up now and make it look like we did not just have sex on this fucking piano." He chuckled.

You quickly obeyed, standing up quickly and running over to his podium where he had a tissue box. You knew you were to return home and shower, but for now, this would suffice. Besides, you didn't know how much time you had before a student would walk in, so both of you focused on yourselves.

You had found your phone and quickly switched to the camera to make sure your hair wasn't too much of a mess, along with your makeup. Thankfully, it was a quick fix for anything out of place, and you took care of it while Sam finished buttoning up his shirt.

After you had placed your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you walked over to him.

"Do you do this with all of your students?" You questioned him with sarcasm.

He shook his head with a breathy chuckle. "Only the ones I like." He shrugged, catching onto your teasing.

You giggled at his response, choosing to leave the teasing behind in fear of the unknown amount of time you had left with him. "So, I'll see you tomorrow for class then?" You rocked on your heels.

"Well, I'd hope so," he smiled at you, sliding his hand onto your waist and pulling you closer. "Will I start seeing you outside of class, too?"

You felt a rush of warmth from his touch, a sense of comfort that had now been familiarized to you. "I think we can arrange that." You said in a playful manner as you placed the palms of your hands onto his chest.

His thumb traced small circles on your waist, his expression softening with a mixture of desire and affection. "Good," he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours once more. "I look forward to it."

After you had parted from his lips again, you reluctantly pulled away from him and made your way to the doors of the lecture hall. You were hoping that whatever student was to come next wasn't outside already, because by the burning sensation that filled your cheeks, you could not hide that something had occurred beyond the lesson with him. With your professor.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

taglist:

@hollyco @ageofhearingloss @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @gold-mines-melting @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @joopsworld @gvfgal @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @haileygvf @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @indigofallingsky @sinarainbows @laneygvf @josh-iamyour-mama @starshine-wagner @lyndz2names @jjwasneverhere @mulberrimouse @starcatcher-jake @lallisonl @jordie-gvf @mindastreamofcolours @peaceloveunitygvf

[hailthegodsong]

MAYBE

One Shot ~ Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 17k +

A/N: This one shot was requested in October last year, so I'm so so sorry that it has taken so long to come out with. I also strayed from the ask dramatically, I hope you don't mind anon. Huge huge thanks to @hailtheaeon for being there to help me brainstorm in the process of writing this story <33

Summary: After years of struggling to move past the damage left by abusive relationships, you’ve built a life focused on safety— for yourself and your rescue dog, Bella, who carries her own scars. But when Sam's quiet kindness enters your life, the walls you’ve built start to crack. Even when fears and trauma threaten to push him away, Sam’s patience and understanding help you begin to heal. Maybe, just maybe, letting someone in doesn’t have to be a risk after all.

Content warnings: Trauma from domestic violence, descriptions of past verbal, emotional, and physical abuse, fear, anxiety, panic attack, trust issues, crying, swearing kissing.

🐾

The late afternoon sun cast golden hues over the grass that Bella ran across, her golden coat shining in the glow. This park was a quiet place, your sanctuary, where the world felt a little less sharp and the noise of your thoughts could settle. Bella, the dog you’d rescued from a local shelter just over a year ago padded beside you, her nose to the ground as she sniffed along the blades of grass and dirt below. She was your anchor, your constant companion, and a reflection of your own guarded— if not fearful nature.

Like you, she didn’t trust easily. You’d chosen her for that reason— a timid, gentle soul who had been hurt at the hands of another, just like you had. Someone who needed a safe space just as much as you did. A safe space from her fears of men. She had been rescued from neglect, and the bond you’d formed felt like a quiet understanding. You’d protect each other.

Today was supposed to be a peaceful outing, a routine part of your shared journey toward confidence. But as you strolled, you noticed a flash of movement. A dog— small, brindle, and full of energy— bounded toward you, stopping just short of your dog. Its tail wagged furiously, and it let out an excited little bark.

“Well, hello,” you murmured, crouching slightly, to show Bella that other dogs were safe. Your dog stiffened for a moment, but as the brindle one nudged her gently, Bellas tail gave a tentative wag. You blinked in surprise. That was… a quick turnaround. Bella was usually timid, cautious, and would hide behind your legs as you greeted other people, or other dogs.

Before you could process it, another dog approached— a darker one this time, bigger but just as lively. The two newcomers sniffed at your hands, tails wagging like flags in the wind, and you felt a small smile tug at your lips despite the suddenness of it all.

You glanced around the park, searching for an owner, but there was no one in sight— only you, Bella, and the two lost pups. The puppy had a collar, so you knelt and carefully checked for a tag. The name read Fox, and luckily, there was a phone number beneath it.

Your stomach twisted. Calling a stranger— a man, judging by the name scrawled on the back of the tag— made your pulse quicken. Sam, was the name. But Sam could be a woman's name too, couldn’t it? But it could also be a man, and the prospect of being alone out there with a man whom you didn't know frightened you to your core. Your hand tightened around your phone as you hesitated. What if it’s a trap? What if he’s someone you should fear? The thoughts came unbidden, unwelcome, but familiar.

You glanced back down at the dogs. They were sitting now, panting happily at your feet, and your own dog— your cautious, wary girl— was watching them with what looked like joy. You took a breath, pushed the fear aside just enough, and dialed.

The phone rang exactly twice before a man’s voice answered, slightly breathless. “Hello?”

“Hi,” you said, your voice more clipped than you intended. “I found your dog. Two, actually— Fox and another one… but I don’t know her name, she doesn’t have a collar.”

The relief in his voice was immediate and overwhelming. “Oh my God, thank you. I’ve been looking everywhere for them. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine,” you answered, glancing down at the dogs, who seemed completely unbothered by the situation. “We’re at the park with the walking trail and the big open field, near the creek. You can come pick them up.”

“Thank you so much,” he said again, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’m so sorry— they must have gotten out of the yard. Thank you, thank you.”

“No worries,” you forced out. “See you soon.” You hung up, still gripping the phone tightly. The rational part of you knew there was no reason to distrust him— he sounded genuinely relieved, even frantic— but the cautious part, the part shaped by years of bad experiences, kept your guard up.

You sat on a bench, watching as the three dogs sprawled out near your feet. Your dog rested her head on her paws, more relaxed than you’d seen her in a long time. It stirred something warm in your chest, seeing her so content in a place that wasn't the foot of your bed. Still, a knot of worry lingered. She’d never been good with men— you’d never been good with men— and the thought of one arriving soon made your shoulders tense.

Ten minutes felt like an eternity, but eventually, a figure appeared in the distance. He was tall, with long, dark, slightly unruly hair and a hurried stride. The moment the dogs spotted him, they were off like rockets, tails wagging furiously as they lept toward him.

He dropped to his knees, his laughter ringing out as they practically bowled him over. “Hey, hey— there you are,” he says, his voice warm and full of relief. “I was so worried about you two.”

Bella stood now too, her ears perked and her tail giving the smallest of wags. She looked at you, then back at him, as if asking permission.

You rose slowly, your pulse quickening. He stood as well, the two dogs happily circling his legs, and the smaller one jumping up at his calves for attention. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were struck by how kind they seemed.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he said, his voice earnest. “Fox is new, and she must’ve slipped out somehow. Rose must have followed her. I’ve been looking for them everywhere.”

“It’s no problem,” you assured, your voice softer than you expected. “They’re sweet dogs.”

As you spoke, Bella stepped closer to him, her nose twitching as she sniffed his ankle. He noticed and crouched slightly, holding out a hand. “And who’s this?”

“That’s Bella,” you said, quickly adding, “Um, maybe don’t— she’s not great with men. She’s a rescue.”

He pulled his hand back immediately, nodding in understanding. “Got it. Sorry about that.”

But to your shock, Bella didn’t shy away. Instead, she sniffed a little longer before her tail started wagging— a hesitant flick at first, then more assured. She stepped closer, nudging his hand with her nose.

He laughed softly, his voice gentle. “Well, hello there.” Although her advances were friendly, Sam still refrained from petting her, allowing her to feel him out herself. You stared, completely baffled. Bella didn’t do this. She didn’t trust men— not after everything she’d been through.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” you said, your voice tinged with awe.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” he replied, his tone light. “Maybe it’s because I have long hair,” he joked, and you smiled softly at him. 

Rose and Fox joined in, playfully bumping into your dog before breaking into a game of chase. They darted around your legs, tails wagging as they barked at one another and spun in dizzying circles.

Sam straightened, his smile soft. “Looks like they’ve gotten well acquainted.”

You laughed lightly, feeling a little of the tension drain from your shoulders. “Yeah. They clicked pretty fast.”

“I’m Sam, by the way,” he greeted, holding out his hand.

You hesitated for only a moment before taking it. “Nice to meet you,” you replied, the words feeling more natural than you’d expected. You introduced yourself too, watching as Sam's mouth grew into yet another gentle smile as you spoke. You pulled your hand away timidly, and turned back to your dogs, avoiding his gaze. 

As the dogs played, you caught yourself smiling— not just at them, but at him too. He seemed kind, and he seemed to understand your need for silence. It was comfortable being around him.

Sam watched the dogs play, his face lit up with genuine joy. “I think they’ve already decided they’re best friends,” he commented with a soft laugh, glancing over at you. “Rose doesn’t usually warm up to other dogs this fast.”

You smiled, a little hesitant but unable to help the warmth spreading in your chest as you watched the three of them chase each other in joyful circles. “Same with her,” you admitted, nodding toward your dog, whose tail was wagging furiously as she bounded after Rose. “She’s usually... cautious, especially in new situations.”

Sam tilted his head, studying the dogs for a moment before meeting your eyes. “You’ve done a great job with her, though. She seems really happy.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. Compliments always felt awkward, especially from strangers— especially from men. They were almost always ingenuine. A ruse to have you trust them— so that they could hurt you. But there was something disarming about the way Sam spoke, casual but earnest, like he really meant it.

“Thanks,” you managed, your voice soft. “It’s been a process, but... she’s worth it.”

Sam smiled sideways, and this time, it felt a little more personal, like he understood in a way that didn’t need further explanation. “I get that,” he started. “Rose was a rescue too. Took me a while to figure out her rhythm. And Fox... well, she’s still a work in progress.” He let out a boyish laugh. “But… I think we’re all a little rough around the edges, right?”

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

The conversation lulled, but it was another comfortable silence. The dogs continued their game of back and forth, weaving around the two of you with an almost choreographed grace. Bella, at one point, paused in need of a breath and trotted over to you. You bent slightly to give her a scratch behind the ear, her hand leaning into your touch, before you pulled away. Casually, she meandered over to Sam, her tail wagging slowly but surely. She nudged his hand again, and he remained mostly still, offering his hand carefully so as not to startle her.

Bella then turned, and leant her body weight against Sam's legs, watching as Fox and Rose continued their game of chase.

You watched, a mix of awe and confusion swirling inside you. “I’ve never seen her do that before,” you commented quietly. “She doesn’t trust men.”

Sam looked over to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened again. “Well she’s very brave, for taking a chance on me.”

Before you could think of a response, Fox barked sharply, demanding his attention. He laughed and stepped back. Bella skirted away from him at the movement, jumpy still— almost as if she had remembered to be scared.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Sam called, his voice light and teasing. He glanced back at you, his expression a mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite place. “We should probably head home now. Thanks again, by the way. For calling me. And for... you know, everything.”

You nodded, a little flustered but managing a small smile. “It was no trouble. Really.”

“Well,” he said, taking a step back but clearly not wanting to leave just yet, “If you’re ever back at this park... maybe our dogs could have another playdate?”

The suggestion caught you off guard, but the nervous manner of his tone eased your anxiety. Instead, you actually found yourself nodding. “Yeah, maybe. They seem to like each other.”

“And maybe,” Sam added, grinning, “They could even convince us humans to talk again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe,” you repeated, the word feeling like a tentative step forward.

As he walked away, his dogs trotting happily at his heels, Bella nudged your hand, looking up at you with a curious tilt of her head. You scratched behind her ears, still trying to process everything that just happened.

“Maybe,” you murmured again, this time to yourself. 

🐾

The next few days were rather bland. You and Bella meandered around the house lazily, keeping each other company with cuddles on the couch and in bed. 

You were confused, to say the least. Proud of yourself for spending so much time with Sam— and for being able to hold a conversation with him without breaking down into a panicked state, like you most often did when speaking to men, especially alone. But another part of you— the dark, afraid exterior you had put on to protect yourself— was ashamed. You’d experienced too much hurt to be naive. And letting yourself grow so fond of a man after only one introduction, solely based on a feeling you had, was utterly ridiculous. 

You wanted to keep yourself indoors forever at the thought. The idea of curling yourself in your bedsheets and never remerging sounded more alluring with each day that passed. Alas, Bella was restless, and you knew you couldn't keep her cooped up and isolated with you, no matter how much you dreaded leaving the comfort of your home. 

Getting up with a dramatic sigh, you showered, dressed, and made yourself look somewhat presentable, Bella excitedly trotting by your heels in anticipation as you got ready. You were soon out the door, as Bella gave a particularly harsh tug on the lead to get the walk started as you fumbled with your keys to lock the front door. 

It wasn’t unusual for her to be excited for her walks, but this was different, and her enthusiasm didn't let up any further into the walk. Your whole body, slanted awkwardly in an attempt to control her pulling, lest you go flying face first into the concrete, was beginning to tire at her relentless eagerness.

“Bella, what has gotten into you?” you grunted as you feebly tried to control her near frantic pace. 

Your question was answered when she turned a sharp, deliberate corner down the trail that led you to your local park. The same park where you had met Sam, and his dogs. 

“Oh, Bella,” you cooed. Her happy little face looked up at you, tongue hanging out and tail thwacking your legs as it wagged uncontrollably. 

You weren’t sure what to do. On one hand, you doubted he’d even be there again. He hadn’t even been there in the first place— had only come to pick up his dogs. But, strangely you weren’t opposed to seeing him again. His presence wasn’t forceful or uncomfortable in the slightest. Sam was easy to be with. 

But the other part of you— the rational, protective part of your mind, reasoned with you through memory. You hadn’t been treated fairly by a man— ever. Did you really expect that to change now? You’d learnt your lessons, and promised to never put yourself back in a situation like that, ever again. Yet here you were, contemplating returning to an otherwise empty park in hopes to find yourself alone with a man you had quite literally just met. 

Bella sat by your feet and whined, her paws pressing into the ground impatiently. Alas, be it naivety or some pathetic kind of hope, Sam didn’t make you feel scared. Not like other men did, at least. Sure you felt nervous, jittery, and a little guarded around him, but it was nothing compared to how you reacted to the presence of other men. No sweaty palms, erratic heart beats, panicked breathing, or racing thoughts. Just Sam, and the strangely peaceful air he had about him.

You sighed, “Alright then.” With that, Bella jumped from her spot, springing to her feet and tugging on the leash. 

After battling her tugging for the next five minutes of the walk, you re-emerged in the park you had been at a few days prior. Bellas head, much like yours, was high, scanning the area in sight of any others— in sight of Sam. 

“Get it Rose!” 

Your head turned at the sound of his voice, echoing through the park as a familiar brindle dog whizzed passed you. There Sam stood, just off to the edge of the grass, a ball thrower in hand as he watched Rose chase his latest throw. Fox was by his feet, tugging on his maroon scarf which hung unevenly over his shoulders. 

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips when you saw him, a big, cheesy smile stretched across his face. The smile turned to a frown when he felt the incessant tugging of his scarf slowly sliding off his shoulder, and he peered down to see Fox chewing at the threads. 

“Fox!” he exclaimed, kneeling to take it from her mouth. “We’ve talked about this young lady. No chewing on Daddy’s clothes, that's what your toys are for, remember?” he explained as he pried her mouth open to snatch his scarf back. 

You leaned down to unclip Bellas leash and in a flash she was bouncing off to greet them. Sam still hadn’t noticed your presence, and he startled slightly when Bella approached, dancing around his legs excitedly. 

“Well hello there!” he greeted Bella as she pressed herself into his legs. His eyes quickly jumped up to see you walking towards him, his smile returning to his face at the sight of you. “You’re back,” he commented as he rose, and took a few tentative steps forward. 

“I’m back,” you repeated, your voice kind, but a little timid. You continued to walk towards him until you stood only a couple of feet away. “Bella pulled pretty hard to come here today— couldn’t say no to that face,” you joked, gesturing to her slobbery, open mouthed smile. 

Sam blinked, and opened his mouth to say something but hesitated. He seemed to think for a moment before he settled on, “Well good, I’m glad to see you again.” By now, Rose had come bouncing back, and was sniffing at Bella by your feet. 

“Thanks… you too,” you replied, rather awkwardly you thought. 

Sam gestured to the small bench beside you with his arm. “Shall we sit?” 

You nodded, letting out a quiet breath as you moved toward the bench. Bella followed, although unclipped, her leash was tight in your grip as if it were the only thing keeping you steady. Sam sat last, leaving a respectable amount of space between you, like he somehow sensed you’d need it. 

Okay, this is fine. He’s just a guy. Sitting on a bench. It’s fine.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” Sam said, breaking the quiet. His tone was casual, but there was something genuine behind it, something that made your chest feel tight. Bella sniffed at his feet, her tail wagging like she’d known him for years instead of just one brief meeting. “Rose has been acting like a lovesick puppy since the last time we were here.”

You managed a small smile, glancing down at the two dogs. Rose’s tail wagged furiously as Bella sniffed at her face, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm. You envied that— how simple it was for them to just... connect. No overthinking. No fear.

Why couldn't you be like that? Why did this have to be so hard?

“I’m glad she dragged you out,” Sam added, leaning back slightly on the bench. His voice was light, but the way he said it— like he really meant it— made you glance at him. He caught your gaze for half a second before you looked away, your heart thudding too loudly in your chest.

“I almost didn’t come,” you admitted before you could stop yourself. Your gut twisted in embarrassment. Why did you have to say that?

“But you did,” he pointed out gently. “And I’m glad.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the leash. He was kind. Too kind. The way he looked at you, like he wasn’t in a rush or expecting anything from you, made something in your chest ache. It would’ve been easier if he was pushy, if he gave you a reason to shut down. But he wasn’t.

The silence stretched, and you could feel the familiar pull to retreat, to make an excuse and leave. But then Sam spoke again, his voice cutting through the fog in your head.

“You know,” he said carefully, “I’ve been meaning to try that little café down the street. The one with the uhhh…” he clicked his finger as he thought, willing the memory to existence, “What's it called? You know, the flower with the long stem and uhh…” He continued to click his fingers as he dropped his head into his other hand, rubbing at his brow bone as he tried to remember. 

“Tulip?” you offered meekly. 

“Yes!” he pointed at you, body straightening. “That big tulip artwork on the front window. Have you been? It looks nice,” he explained, hands gesturing in front of him as he described the art. 

You shook your head, “No, I haven’t been. But I’ve walked past it a few times— smells nice in there.”

Sam smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Maybe we could check it out together sometime. If you’re up for it.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. 

You looked at him, unsure what to say. The idea of sitting across from him, having a conversation in a quiet café, felt like a massive leap. You were not ready for this. You’d sworn off men— off dating. It hadn’t even been a question, you knew you weren’t mentally prepared to handle the things that came with being in a relationship— not now.

But at the same time, there was a tiny spark of something else— something that wanted to say yes. Would you ever be ready? Or would you spend the rest of your lonely life at home with Bella? Forced by the mental confines of your mind.

“I—uh...” You stumbled over your words, your brain fighting with itself. Say something. Say yes. He’s not going to wait forever.

“No pressure,” Sam added quickly, his tone easy. “It doesn’t have to be soon. Or ever, if.. you don't want to, or…you’re not comfortable, or… whatever.”

You exhaled shakily, gripping Bella’s leash like it was a lifeline. “No, I…” you sighed. “That sounds nice,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam’s smile didn’t falter, and that surprised you. Most people would’ve pushed or tried to pin you down for a time. But not him. “Okay,” he said simply. “Whenever you’re free.”

You nodded, feeling a flicker of relief but also something else. Maybe you could do this. Maybe.

The dogs ran off again, chasing each other in lazy circles, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that you could take a step forward. Even if it was small, even if it was terrifying, you wanted to try. 

Sam's voice brought your gaze back to him again. “How about you give me your number and we can arrange a time that you’re free. Or— I mean, I can give you mine if that's better,” he shrugged, his speech beginning to turn more into a ramble than an offer. “That way you can, y’know, choose when— or if you’re free, or if you even want to do it, cause—”

“I do want to do it. Stop overthinking it,” you joked, though you knew he had every right to be worried. You had no idea how you were going to show up to this… date? Catchup? You weren't sure what it was, but the title didn't make the occasion any less daunting. Sam's happy grin encouraged your next words. “Do you have your phone on you? I can put my number into your contacts,” you suggested. 

His eyebrows lifted as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah, for sure.” He awkwardly patted his pockets before finding his phone lost somewhere inside his coat. “Here y’go.”

Sam handed you his phone, an empty contact card open for you to put your details in. This was huge. You were willingly giving a man your phone number— a man you'd practically just met. Something tugged at whatever part of your brain was responsible for decision making persistently, willing you to question if what you were doing may be stupid. You knew it wasn't smart, not after what you’d been through— what you’d experienced with men. They always started off kind, you knew that. Yet there was something about Sam that you felt you could trust, and that frightened you the most. 

As your fingers hesitated on the keyboard against his phone, you glanced down to where Bella settled by Sam's feet, staring off into the park and allowing Sam to lightly pet the middle of her back. You sighed, willing away the thoughts like they were just some annoying, unwelcomed pest, as you forced your fingers to tap the phone screen. 

“Done.” You handed his phone back to him, fingers picking at your cuticles nervously as you watched him smile and type something into his phone. Your phone buzzed from your back pocket and you slid it out to see a text message: “Here's my number too :)”

The lightheartedness of the message made your lips twitch, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the corners. You glanced at Sam who was still sitting beside you, leaning back against the wooden table, looking completely at ease.

You shifted awkwardly, fiddling with Bella’s leash, though she had sprawled out at Sam's feet, panting contentedly after her play. Sam didn’t seem to notice your nerves— or maybe he did, and he just chose not to draw attention to it. Either way, his relaxed energy made it hard to feel completely on edge.

“So,” Sam began, breaking the comfortable silence. “Is this Bella's favourite park, or…?”

You nodded, glancing at him briefly before looking away. “Yeah, usually. She likes how quiet it is.”

“Quiet’s good,” he agreed, his voice warm and easy. “I usually go to that busy dog park across the city when I get the chance. Rose and Fox like to drag me out of the house to get there.”

You chuckled softly, looking at Rose, who was now sprawled out a few feet away, eyes half-closed in the sunlight. “Looks like she’s not too demanding right now.”

“Yeah, don’t let that fool you,” Sam said, leaning toward you a little as he itched his forearm, his elbow brushing yours briefly. “Ten more minutes, and she’ll be up, trying to wrestle me or something. That girl hasn't known how to take it easy for her whole life,” he laughed.

You smiled faintly, your fingers tightening on Bella’s leash. It was strange, sitting here with someone you’d only just met. Normally, this would feel like too much— too close, too personal— but with Sam, it felt... manageable.

“Anyway,” he continued, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, “I figured I’d send that text so you’ve got my number too. Just in case, y’know, Bella needs a playmate or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching again. “Just for our dogs, huh? Not for our coffee outing?” 

Sam grinned, his shoulders shaking with a quiet laugh. “Fair point. I’m more of a sidekick in this operation. I let Fox and Rose do the heavy lifting.”

That small flicker of humor in your chest felt foreign but not unwelcome. There was no pressure to say anything. He wasn’t watching you, waiting for a response. Instead, he looked out at the park, his expression calm, like he was perfectly content to just be here.

“I don’t usually... give my number out,” you said suddenly, the words escaping before you could stop them.

Sam glanced at you, his brows lifting slightly, but he didn’t press. “Yeah? Well, I don’t usually ask for numbers in dog parks, so I guess we’re both a little out of our comfort zones.”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “That’s... one way to look at it.”

He shifted slightly, his tone softening. “I get it, though. It’s not always easy to, uh... put yourself out there— socially, or otherwise.”

You glanced at him, feeling a pang of something— gratitude, maybe? He wasn’t prying. He wasn’t asking why or trying to dig into things you weren’t ready to share. He just... understood.

Bella nudged at your leg, and you reached down to scratch behind her ears, your fingers trembling slightly.

“You seem pretty good at it,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

Sam tilted his head, a small, almost self-deprecating smile on his lips. “You’d be surprised. I just talk a lot and hope something sticks.”

That earned a small laugh from you, and you saw his smile widen.

“Seriously, though,” he added, his voice dropping just a little, “We don’t have to do anything you’re not up for. I mean it.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

“Good,” he said, leaning back again, his shoes toeing into the dirt beneath him nervously. “But for the record, I think Rose, Fox and Bella would make a great tag team. So if you ever want to let them hang out again, just say the word.”

Just say the word. The offer was there, present for you to take at your own accord. It didn't press you, and it didn't make you feel like if you didn’t reach out, you were letting anybody down. It was comfortable— as was everything that Sam said. The casualness of his tone made it easier to breathe.

“Okay,” you said softly. Sam smiled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. 

You glanced at your phone to check the time, a small pang of disappointment blooming in your chest. You hated that you had to leave. You wanted to stay— maybe not talk much, but just exist here with him, in the easy quiet of the park.

“I, uh, should probably head home,” you said reluctantly, rising to your feet. “I’ve got a meeting in thirty minutes.”

Sam’s brows lifted as he stood too, the easygoing smile on his face flickering with something softer. “Oh? Do you work from home?” he asked, as Bella jumped to her feet beside you, shaking out her coat.

“Yeah,” you nodded, clipping the leash onto her collar. “I don’t have to leave Bella alone for hours, so it works out.”

“Lucky Bella,” he said lightly, though his mouth stayed open, as if he wanted to keep talking— as if he didn't want the moment to end. He shook his head lightly before continuing, “Well, I’ll let you go. Don’t want you to be late or anything.”

You smiled, a small, genuine curve of your lips. “Thanks. I’ll, uh… I’ll text you,” you said, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them. The certainty in Sam’s returning smile made your chest flutter. Maybe saying it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said warmly, his eyes meeting yours in a way that felt reassuring and kind.

You nodded, a little too quickly, gripping Bella’s leash tightly as if it could keep your nerves steady. “See you.”

“Bye,” he said, his voice lingering just a moment longer. He reached for Fox and Rose, gently holding them back as they strained toward Bella, their tails wagging wildly.

You gave a small, awkward wave before turning away, the crisp air filling your lungs as you and Bella walked toward the park gate.

As you reached the edge of the park, you couldn’t help glancing back. Sam was still standing there, a hand resting idly on Rose’s back, watching as you left. When your eyes met his, he raised a hand in a casual wave, his grin as easy as ever.

You turned back around quickly, your cheeks warming against the cold. Maybe this wasn’t as terrifying as it seemed. Maybe.

Bella tugged gently on the leash, grounding you as you crossed the street and started for home. Your phone buzzed in your pocket— a message from Sam. It was a photo of Fox and Rose, their ears pricked up and eyes fixed on the empty entrance of the park, as though they were waiting for you and Bella to return.

A second message followed right after: “Looks like they’re already missing you both.”

A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it. It was a small gesture, but something about it made your chest feel a little lighter. You slipped your phone back into your pocket without responding, telling yourself you’d reply when you got home. Maybe you’d even send him a photo of Bella in return. Maybe you’d keep the conversation going.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the thought of staying connected didn’t seem so impossible. It felt… nice.

🐾

The coffee meet-up had gone so much better than you’d imagined, better than you had even allowed yourself to hope for. The worst part— unsurprisingly— had been the lead-up. You’d paced your apartment for what felt like hours, second-guessing every decision. Your mind raced with a thousand doubts: Was this smart? Was this too soon? Were you setting yourself up for heartbreak again? Bella sat patiently by the door, watching you with her big, soulful eyes, almost as if she were silently urging you to go, to just try.

You’d arrived at the café early, jittery from nerves and a lack of sleep. When Sam walked in, his warm smile immediately eased some of your tension. He looked genuinely happy to see you, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He’d waved and slid into the seat across from you, his presence grounding but not overbearing.

Conversation had flowed naturally, which surprised you. Sam had a way of filling the space between you without making it feel stifling. He’d asked about Bella, what you did for work, and even shared a funny story about Rose stealing one of his socks that morning. When the conversation lulled, as it inevitably did, Sam didn’t make it awkward. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze wandering to the people passing by outside the café window.

“See that guy?” he’d said, nodding toward a man hurriedly crossing the street with a mismatched pair of gloves, and a bright pink scarf. “What do you reckon? He’s either late for something important or has a really funky sense of style.”

You’d followed his gaze, smiling faintly. “Maybe both.”

And just like that, the quiet moments turned into a game of people-watching. Sam made up lighthearted stories about strangers, his voice calm and easy, and for the first time in a long time, you felt safe in someone else’s company. There was no pressure, no expectation— just two people sitting across from each other, sharing a moment.

By the time you’d parted ways, your nerves had transformed into optimism. You didn’t regret coming. In fact, you were already looking forward to seeing him again.

The next morning you saw him again at the park. You hadn’t planned to go at the same time, but there he was, with Rose and Fox bounding around in the grass. You’d exchanged a smile and a wave, and soon enough, it became a daily routine. Every morning, you’d take Bella to the park, secretly hoping he’d be there too. And every morning, Sam was.

One day, as you approached the park, you noticed him holding a cup of coffee, a familiar logo on the side. He smiled as he handed it to you, his expression a mix of shy and pleased.

“I, uh, noticed what you ordered the other day,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought you might like one this morning.”

You stared at the cup in your hands, warmth spreading from your fingertips to your chest. “Thank you,” you said softly, touched by the small but thoughtful gesture. From that day on, he always seemed to have a coffee ready for you. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it meant more than he probably realized.

Still, as much as you looked forward to those mornings, your mind wasn’t entirely at ease. The scars of your past whispered doubts in the quiet moments. This is too good to be true. Men like this don’t stay this way. You’ve been here before. The memories of past relationships, of violence and betrayal, were like shadows you couldn’t shake.

But then there was Sam— patient, kind, and attentive in a way that felt entirely genuine. He didn’t push when you hesitated. He didn’t pry when you grew quiet. He just was.

When he invited you to a dinner at his house, casually mentioning that his brothers and their friends would be there, you froze. The thought of being in a group setting, of being in his home, felt like too much too soon. You’d declined, softly but firmly, and to your relief, Sam had taken it in stride.

“All good. Another time, maybe,” he’d said with a smile, as if to let you know the door was always open.

The refusal had felt good— not because you didn’t want to go, but because you were learning to set boundaries. You were opening yourself up, little by little, but you weren’t letting go of yourself in the process.

Throughout the week, Sam continued to send you pictures of Rose and Fox. They were always candid and endearing— Rose sprawled out on the couch, Fox sitting attentively by the window as if waiting for you and Bella. One evening, you found Bella lounging in her usual spot, her head tilted just so, and before you could overthink it, you snapped a picture and sent it to Sam.

“She says hi,” you’d typed, your heart fluttering as you hit send.

His reply had come almost instantly: “Tell her we say hi back. Same time tomorrow?”

You’d smiled, and without hesitation, replied: “Of course.”

🐾

A couple of days later, you found yourself bracing for a high-stakes work meeting with some of the most important executives in your company. Stress clung to you like a second skin, tightening your shoulders and quickening your breath. Your living room reflected your frayed state of mind— dog toys scattered across the floor, an abandoned mug of coffee perched precariously on the edge of the table, and a pile of laundry slumped in the corner, forgotten in your whirlwind of preparation.

You’d spent the entire morning darting between tasks: fussing with your hair, adjusting your blouse for the hundredth time, and sifting through the jumbled notes on your desk in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of order— despite the fact that the meeting started at noon. Bella had shadowed you every step of the way, her quiet presence an unspoken reminder of her unmet need for the walk she’d come to expect every morning.

Her brown eyes followed you as you paced the room, and when you finally sat down at your desk with a heavy sigh, she whined softly, settling herself at your feet.

“Bella, please,” you muttered, reaching down to give her a quick pat before returning to your computer screen. You flicked your eyes to the clock— thirty minutes until your call. The number pulsed in your mind like a ticking bomb, making your stomach twist.

Bella’s tail thumped against the floor, slow and deliberate, each wag a pointed reminder of her dissatisfaction. She huffed, letting out a low whimper, and you resisted the urge to groan. Normally, she’d be sprawled out in her favorite spot by now, worn out from a romp at the park. But today, skipping that routine had thrown her off entirely, and her restless energy was only adding to your own mounting tension.

“Bella,” you said again, your voice sharper this time, though guilt twisted in your chest. She wasn’t trying to annoy you— she just didn’t understand why things were different today. You ran a hand over your face, leaning back in your chair and staring at the ceiling.

Another loud whine that trailed off into a howl broke the silence, and you glanced down to see Bella staring up at you with wide, imploring eyes. She shifted closer, her tail wagging faster now, and let out a short, sharp bark.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you muttered, your voice tight. “You’re stressed. Join the club.”

The tension in the room felt suffocating as Bella circled your chair, her nails clicking against the hardwood floor. You bent down again, this time stroking her fur more firmly in an attempt to calm her. But as soon as you pulled away, she was pacing again, her frustration palpable.

You checked the clock once more— twenty-five minutes now— and felt a rush of panic. This meeting was important, one you couldn’t afford to be distracted during. But how were you supposed to focus with Bella practically climbing the walls? You sighed, sitting back in your chair and opening your phone to check your emails. 

Instead, you saw a new message from Sam. “Hey, no park today?” Attached was a photo of Rose and Fox, both sitting by the edge of the park, their ears pricked up like they were waiting for someone. He was still there, despite it being hours after you’d usually meet. Guilt twisted your gut.

You smiled despite yourself, typing a quick reply. “No park today :( I’ve got a busy afternoon of meetings and needed to prepare. I meant to let you know— sorry about that!”

His reply came almost instantly. “Ah okay, no worries! Good luck with your meetings :)”

Before you could put your phone down, Bella let out another pitiful whine, pacing back and forth near the door.

You replied. “Thanks. I think I’ll need it— Bella won’t stop whining and whimpering. I think she missed you guys. I don’t know what to do.”

Sam responded immediately. “Maybe just lock her in another room with some toys and treats?”

You sighed, wincing as Bella barked piercingly. “Can't. She’s got attachment anxiety. Starts to rip things up if she's left alone.”

You hit send, leaning back in your chair as Bella plopped down dramatically near the door, her eyes fixed on it like she was willing it to open, letting high pitched whines leave her throat.

A minute passed without a reply, and you were about to set your phone aside when it buzzed.

“I can come by and look after her for however long if you’d like? Take her out for a walk until your meeting is over?”

You stared at the message, your heart skipping a beat. He’s really offering to do this? The idea of letting someone into your space, even Sam, made you hesitate. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny how kind the offer was— or how badly you needed help right now.

You bit your lip as you replied. “Thanks Sam, but Bella doesn’t like being away from me. She gets really anxious.”

His reply came quickly. “I could just hang out with her in another room if you’d prefer? All good if not, of course, but the offer’s there.”

You set your phone down, your thoughts spinning. Bella whined again, pacing back to your chair and pawing at your leg.

“Bella,” you scolded gently. “Quiet.” You stood and grabbed her bowl, filling it with a few treats in hopes of distracting her, but she barely glanced at it. She let out a sharp bark, scratching at the front door now.

“Bella! Stop!” you said, exasperated, but she wasn’t listening.

You glanced at the clock— twenty minutes until your call. Another bark echoed through the apartment, and you dropped your head into your hands. “Okay, okay!” you muttered, grabbing your phone and opening the messages again.

“Yeah, I might have to take you up on that offer, if you wouldn’t mind.”

His response came almost immediately. “Of course :) Do you mind if I bring the girls?”

You sighed in relief. “Of course not. I’ll text you my address. My call is in 20 minutes, though.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there in 10.”

You exhaled, tension leaving your shoulders as you sent him your address. Bella looked up at you expectantly, and you gave her a small smile. “Someone’s coming to rescue you, happy now?” She whined at your words, eyes looking to and from the door as she impatiently waited for you to take her out. 

While you waited, you found yourself fidgeting with your reflection in the hallway mirror. It was ridiculous, really— the meeting with the board members hadn’t inspired this level of concern, but knowing Sam was on his way had you smoothing down your hair and adjusting the hem of your sweater like a teenager before prom.

“Get a grip,” you muttered under your breath, brushing an invisible speck of lint off your sleeve. Bella whined softly from her spot near the door, her tail wagging with anticipation. And now, you tried to focus on the sound of her impatience instead of the nervous fluttering in your stomach.

The sharp knock at the door made Bella erupt into a frenzy of barking, spinning in circles by your feet. You felt your heart jolt, but not from the noise. It was that brief, nagging moment of doubt— a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that you were about to let a man into your home.

For a split second, you froze, your hand hovering over the lock. But then Bella barked again, her paws scratching at the door in her impatience, and you shoved the thought aside. This was Sam. Sam, who brought coffee to the park every morning. Sam, who made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t in a long time. You took a breath and opened the door.

“Hey!” Sam greeted you, his smile warm and disarming.

The dogs went wild, Bella barking and wagging her tail like a propeller as Rose and Fox tugged excitedly on their leashes. The narrow entryway became a chaotic blur of wagging tails and happy whines as you tried to wrangle Bella away from the tangle of Sam’s dogs.

“Come in, quick,” you said, stepping aside to let them all in before the noise woke your neighbors. Bella followed Rose and Fox eagerly as they darted into the living room, their tails wagging in unison.

“You can take their leashes off,” you told Sam, watching as he crouched to unclip them. The dogs bounded off to explore, Bella right on their heels, and the house fell into an almost eerie quiet after the explosion of noise. 

You turned back to Sam, who had straightened up and was now standing with his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression softening.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice warm but casual, as though it was just a simple observation and not a compliment that sent your pulse racing.

Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced down, brushing at your sweater even though you knew there was nothing on it. “Oh, uh… thanks. This meeting’s kind of a big deal.” Lie. You fixed your appearance for him. “Thank you for coming”

Sam’s smile widened, and he shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help. Plus, I could hear Bella whining from the street.” 

You laughed as you watched her whizz past you both into the living room, Rose and Fox hot on her heels. 

“Where do you want me?” Sam asked, reminding you that you needed to get a move on if you wanted to make this meeting in time. 

“Anywhere is fine. I’ll be in my little office so as long as Bella doesn't come in it’ll be fine. Though, I suspect she’ll be quiet now that you guys are here.”

Sam nodded and ran a hand through his hair, and you took a moment to admire how long and healthy it looked. You had to ask him what products he used to get it looking so shiny. “Does the living room sound okay?” he asked, gesturing to the couch. You cringed at the sight of the messy room. 

“Yeah, of course. Sorry the place is such a mess. And help yourself to anything from the kitchen if you're hungry or thirsty. We have tea, too, if you'd like.”

Sam smiled as his gaze swept over your living room. “Alright, thanks. I'll go... gather the pack.”

You laughed softly, grateful for his ease. “Thanks. My meeting is until two, and I’ll have just a little bit of work to get through after that. Give me a shout if you need anything.”

With that, you headed back to your office, the door clicking gently behind you. As you settled into your chair and shuffled through your notes, the familiar sound of the kettle whistling from the kitchen reached your ears, accompanied by the rhythmic panting of the dogs as they sprawled in the living room. The noises were oddly comforting, grounding you in the moment.

Two minutes before your call was set to begin, the door to your office nudged open, creaking softly on its hinges. You glanced up, expecting Bella, but instead, there was Sam. He held a steaming mug of tea in his hand, hovering just inside the doorway, careful not to disrupt anything. His gaze darted to your screen, checking to see if you were on the call yet.

“Oh,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do that.”

Sam waved it off with an easy shrug, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Pfft, it’s nothing. Good luck with your call,” he said, holding up a thumbs-up.

You smiled, warmed by the gesture, and murmured your thanks again. He slipped out just as quietly as he’d entered, carefully shutting the door behind him.

The call, as expected, was long and dull— slides full of graphs, executives droning on about projections, and polite but strained small talk. Your attention kept drifting. Every so often, you’d hear faint noises from the next room— Sam’s voice, low and warm, talking to the dogs. You couldn’t make out the words, but the sound of his laughter reached you now and then, and it made you smile. You wished you were out there with him, soaking up his easy energy instead of slogging through a seemingly endless meeting.

When the call finally ended, and you’d rushed through whatever work you needed to do for the rest of the day, you exhaled a long sigh of relief and pushed yourself up from your chair, stretching your arms overhead. You made your way to the living room, the low hum of conversation growing clearer as you approached.

But as you rounded the corner, you stopped in your tracks.

The living room, which had been a mess of dog toys, cushions askew, and Bella’s fur tumbleweeds, was now spotless. The toys had been neatly piled in the corner, the couch cushions were fluffed and straightened, and even the coffee table had been wiped down. You glanced toward the kitchen and saw the dishes that had been piled in the sink were now washed and drying on the rack. The counters, which had been cluttered with remnants of your rushed breakfast, were clear.

Sam was crouched on the floor, tugging gently at a rope toy while Bella growled playfully. He looked up as your shadow crossed the room, his face lighting up with a grin. “Hey! Meeting over?”

Your heart squeezed at the sight of him so effortlessly at home. “Yeah,” you said, your voice soft. “Did you… clean up?”

He shrugged, standing and brushing his hands on his jeans. “Hope you don’t mind. I figured you had enough on your plate, and the dogs were napping.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “That’s… really sweet. Thank you.”

“It wasn’t trouble,” he insisted, his voice gentle but sincere. “I just wanted to make things easier for you.”

You hesitated, your heart stumbling over itself at his kindness. Before you could stop yourself, the words were tumbling out. “You know… you’ve already done so much, but if you don’t have plans, you could stay for dinner?”

Sam blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—”

“You wouldn’t be,” you interrupted quickly, then added with a soft laugh, “Honestly, I’d love to make you dinner as a thank-you. You’ve helped so much today.” You glanced at your watch seeing it was just after three in the afternoon. “I know it’s still early but…” you shrugged.

His hesitation lingered for a moment, but then his lips curved into that easy smile. “If you’re sure, I’d like that. But only if I get to help.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Come on,” he interrupted, already heading toward the kitchen. “You’re doing me a favor by letting me stay. Let me at least chop something.”

You sighed with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. “Alright then, if you insist.”

Sam smiled cheekily and jumped from his spot on the couch to follow you to the kitchen. You'd decided on a simple pasta dish, and the kitchen quickly came alive with activity as you both worked side by side. Sam had insisted on chopping vegetables, though his knife skills left much to be desired.

“You know,” he said, holding up a piece of onion that was noticeably uneven, “I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you took the cutting board from him. “Sure, if you were trying to invent abstract vegetable art.”

He laughed, leaning against the counter as he watched you take over. “I’ll have you know, my abstract art is highly sought after. Just wait till you see my tomato slicing.”

“God help me,” you teased, shaking your head.

The banter flowed easily between you as you moved around the kitchen. Sam stirred the sauce with dramatic flair, claiming he was a “culinary genius,” while you rolled your eyes and corrected his seasoning suggestions.

“You’re gonna regret doubting me when this sauce wins an award,” he said, tapping the spoon against the edge of the pot.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, turning to grab a pot for the pasta. “I’ll make sure to nominate it for Most Over-Seasoned Dish.”

“Rude,” he muttered, though he was grinning.

At one point, while you were boiling the pasta, Sam stepped behind you to grab plates from the cabinet. The brush of his arm against yours was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you. You glanced at him, finding his focus entirely on the task at hand, as if he hadn’t noticed.

The domesticity of it all was surreal. You hadn’t had anyone in your kitchen like this in years— working together, laughing, existing in a space that felt so normal, yet so foreign to you.

Once the food was ready, you carried the plates while Sam grabbed the water glasses, and without much conversation, the two of you gravitated toward the couch. Somehow, eating there felt more natural than sitting stiffly at the dining table.

Sam handed you your plate before settling in beside you, leaving enough space between you to keep it comfortable. He looked around, scanning the small stack of DVDs you had near the TV. “Dinner and a movie,” he said, glancing at you with a grin. “You’ve officially spoiled me.”

You smiled softly, sitting down a little more cautiously than him, keeping a small gap between you. “And you can pick the movie, too.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Bold move, letting me choose. I’m warning you, I have excellent taste.”

“Let’s see how excellent it really is,” you teased, tucking your legs beneath you as you took a bite of your food.

Sam, however, froze after his first bite. His eyes widened, and he turned to you with an exaggerated look of awe. “Okay, what is this? Did you make a deal with the devil or something? This is incredible.”

You snorted, trying to hide your grin. “It’s just pasta, Sam.”

“No,” he insisted, pointing his fork at you dramatically. “This is art. It’s poetry. I didn’t even know food could taste like this.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re keeping me fed. It’s only fair I hype you up. But you better give me the recipe before I leave tonight.”

Your cheeks warmed at his playful sincerity, and you ducked your head to take another bite, hoping he wouldn’t notice. The banter eased something in you, though— like you weren’t trying too hard, like you could just be in the moment with him.

Eventually, Sam settled on a movie, popping it into the player before sinking back into the couch with his plate. “Okay, so this one’s a classic,” he said, gesturing toward the TV. “If you hate it, I’ll take the blame, but I promise, it’s amazing.”

“I’m holding you to that,” you said, though your tone was lighter than before.

The movie started, and for a while, the focus shifted to the screen. You found yourself occasionally glancing at him out of the corner of your eye— his easy posture, the way he laughed a little too loudly at the jokes, the way he balanced his plate effortlessly while gesturing with his fork as if narrating the scenes. God, he was such a dork. 

You seemed to gravitate towards one another as you settled into the couch, your dogs soon joining you as they lay on top of each other happily. 

The movie continued to drone on in the background. At first, you’d tried to stay engaged, nodding along at the occasional joke Sam laughed at, but gradually, your attention began to wander. Your fingers toyed with the hem of your sweater, and your plate of half-eaten pasta sat forgotten on the coffee table.

It had been such a nice evening so far— surprisingly so. Sam had been kind, thoughtful, even funny in a way that made you feel at ease. But now, in the quiet comfort of your living room, with him sitting just a little too close, the questions started creeping in.

Why had you asked him to stay?

It had felt right in the moment, natural even. But now, the edges of doubt started to fray that confidence. You barely knew him. Sure, you’d seen him at the park almost every morning, but how much did you really know about him? Enough to invite him into your home? Enough to cook dinner together like… like this was normal?

Your fingers fidgeted against your lap as your chest tightened.

Sure, he seemed nice. But doesn’t it always start like that?

The thought hit you like a cold wave. Your mind turned back to memories you tried so hard to keep buried— moments you didn’t want to revisit but couldn’t stop from surfacing. The times when smiles and kind words turned into raised voices, sharp insults, slammed doors. Or worse.

Your breathing quickened as flashes of those memories filled your mind: the weight of someone’s anger looming over you, the sting of being told you weren’t enough, the fear of not knowing what would set him off next. The boundaries you’d built so carefully around yourself now felt perilously close to crumbling, all because you’d let one man in.

Your stomach twisted. What if this was a mistake? What if he was just better at hiding it than the others?

You glanced at Sam from the corner of your eye. He looked completely at ease, focused on the movie, his body relaxed against the couch. But that didn’t calm the growing unease in your chest. He was sitting close— too close. And while you knew it wasn’t threatening, the proximity still made you acutely aware of your vulnerability.

Your mind raced. You shouldn’t have asked him to stay. You shouldn’t have sent him your address. You shouldn’t—

Bella shifted from her spot on the floor, her soft snuffling breaking your spiraling thoughts. She curled up closer to Sam’s feet, her tail thumping lazily against the floor. He reached down to give her a gentle scratch behind the ears without breaking his attention from the screen.

Something about that small gesture grounded you for a moment. Your breath caught, and you tried to focus on it— on Bella, on the way Sam’s touch was calm and unassuming. And on the way Bella trusted him. But the unease lingered, creeping in at the edges.

This was too much. Too fast.

Your chest felt tight, and you didn’t know how you were going to make it through the rest of the movie. You wanted to get up, to create some space, to pull yourself out of this situation— but you didn’t want to draw attention to your panic. You didn’t want him to notice.

Sam noticed, of course. He always did. “You okay?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes searching.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, trying to sound convincing. “Just… full. Food coma incoming.”

He chuckled, not pressing the issue. “Understandable. I’d be out cold too if I wasn’t so invested in your reaction to this movie.”

You gave him a small smile, but your nerves didn’t completely ease. You shifted slightly, creating just enough space between you to make yourself feel a little safer.

The movie carried on, and so did your thoughts. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that the sudden movement beside you felt like a thunderclap. Sam shifted forward on the couch to grab the remote, reaching toward the coffee table. The motion was quick, his hand brushing past yours as he grabbed the remote.

It was such a small movement, but with your mind racing the way it was, you knew anything could have set you off. You flinched, hard, instinctively pulling back as if you’d been burned. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, muscles tensing and your breath hitching audibly.

The air between you shifted immediately. Sam froze, his hand hovering midair as his eyes snapped to yours. His brow furrowed with concern.

“Woah,” he said softly, his voice calm but tinged with worry. “What was that? Are you okay?”

You tried to force a laugh, to wave it off, but the sound that came out was shaky and unconvincing. “Yeah, sorry. Just… startled me.”

Sam didn’t look convinced. He set the remote down gently on the table and turned his full attention to you, his hands now resting loosely on his knees. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said carefully, his tone deliberate and measured, as though he didn't want to push you further into discomfort.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, embarrassment mixing with the lingering panic in your chest. “It’s fine,” you mumbled, looking down at your lap. “I just… I don’t know. I guess I was in my own head.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze steady but soft. “Okay,” he said, leaving a pause for you to fill if you wanted to. When you didn’t, he added, “If I did something to make you uncomfortable, you can tell me. I’d never want to—” He stopped himself, his words trailing off, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable.

He sighed, and you listened awkwardly as the film continued to play in the background. 

The tension in your chest loosened just a fraction at his words. He wasn’t pressing, wasn’t pushing for answers. He was simply… there. Present. And the way he sat, his posture open and relaxed, made it feel like the ball was entirely in your court.

“It’s not you,” you finally admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “I just… sometimes I get a little jumpy. It’s stupid.”

Sam shook his head immediately. “It’s not stupid.” He hesitated, glancing briefly at Bella, who was now watching the two of you with curious eyes. When he looked back at you, his voice was gentle but firm. “Whatever made you feel like that, it’s not stupid. And if there’s ever something I’m doing that doesn’t feel okay, just tell me. I mean it.”

The knot in your stomach unraveled just a bit more at his words. You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without your voice shaking. You bit your cheek as you felt your eyes fill to the brim with tears. God, this was so embarrassing. 

Sam's features softened impossibly further, his hand lifting to reach you, but it hesitated in the air. 

You quickly turned your head away, scratching the back of your head nervously as you blinked furiously, trying to will away your tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t—” You shook your head, wiping a hand over your face before you reluctantly faced Sam again. “I don’t know what's gotten into me.” 

You did, but Sam didn’t need to know that. You pulled all your energy together to force the tears at bay, and returned your gaze to Sam. 

Sam shifted slightly on the couch, his expression caught somewhere between concern and uncertainty. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice careful like he was walking a tightrope. “I don’t want to overstep or make you uncomfortable, but if there’s anything I can do... or if you just want me to shut up and leave you alone, I can do that too.”

You shook your head quickly, your breath hitching as you fought back the lump in your throat. “No, it’s not you,” you repeated, your voice strained. “I just... I’m a mess right now. You don't need to do anything.”

Sam tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he spoke. “I want to, though. Because I care,” he said simply, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world. His gaze flicked over your closed-off body language, the way your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself, and you could see the hesitation in him. He didn’t want to push.

He sighed softly, glancing down at Rose and Fox, who were curled up near his feet. “Maybe I should get going,” he said carefully, testing the waters. “It’s late anyway, and these two need their beauty sleep.” He smiled faintly, gesturing toward his dogs, but his eyes stayed on you, gauging your reaction.

Your heart twisted at his words, and you bit your lip instinctively, and your voice came out quiet and unsure. “I’m sorry.”

Sam hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he offered you a small, understanding smile. “No, it’s alright,” he said gently. “I can see you need some time to yourself. And that’s okay. I get it.” His tone was so soft, so genuine, that it made your chest ache.

You couldn’t bring yourself to argue. You just nodded, your voice caught somewhere in your throat as you stood to walk him to the door. Bella followed silently at your side, her usual energy replaced with a quiet understanding of the tension in the room.

Sam gathered Rose and Fox, leashing them up before turning back to you. “Thank you for tonight,” he said, his voice warm despite the weight in the air. “Dinner was amazing. And... I hope you’ll text me if you need anything, alright?”

You nodded again, barely able to meet his eyes. “Thanks, Sam. I will.”

With that, he gave you a faint smile, one last glance that lingered a second too long before he opened the door and stepped out into the night. As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a shaky breath, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall, burying your face in your hands.

The tears came fast and heavy, spilling over like a dam had finally broken inside you. It felt like you cried for hours, each sob pulling from a deep well of pain and frustration you’d kept buried for far too long. You hated this— hated the way your trauma had its claws in every part of your life, ruining even the good things you tried so desperately to hold onto. You wanted to be normal, to feel normal. But instead, you felt broken, incapable of letting anyone in without breaking apart.

Your phone buzzed on the floor beside you, and you wiped at your tear-streaked face as you reached for it, your vision blurry as you unlocked the screen.

It was Sam. “Thank you for dinner tonight. I had a great time. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

The knot in your chest tightened at his words. Even now, he was worried about you, trying to make sure you were okay when he didn’t have to. You stared at the message for a long moment, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as fresh tears blurred your vision.

🐾

The next morning, sunlight streamed through your curtains, far brighter than it should have been. You groaned, sitting up in bed as Bella stretched out beside you, her tail thumping against the blankets. Reaching for your phone, you squinted at the time and felt a pang of guilt hit your chest.

It was late. Too late. You’d missed the park. Again.

“Bella,” you murmured, the sound more like a frustrated groan than anything, rubbing your face as the weight of your restless night settled on your shoulders. Her ears perked up at her name, and she let out a soft, hopeful bark, her eyes darting to the door. She didn’t understand why you hadn’t gotten up earlier, why your routine had been thrown off, but she still looked at you like she trusted you to make it right.

Your thoughts immediately flicked to Sam. He’d probably been at the park with Rose and Fox, glancing toward the entrance like he always did. Waiting. And you hadn’t shown up. Guilt twisted in your chest, but it wasn’t just about missing the park. It was the reason you’d overslept.

The dream— no, the memory— had dragged you back into the dark. It had been so vivid, so real. His voice still echoed in your mind, sharp and cutting, a hand falling down to strike you. It wasn’t the worst memory you’d ever had, but it reminded you of everything. The fear. The helplessness. The suffocating feeling of never being safe, no matter what you did.

And then there was last night— flinching at Sam. The look on his face when you pulled away. The ache in your chest knowing it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with what had been done to you.

You sighed, staring at Bella as she sat at your feet, her tail wagging cautiously, as though trying to coax you into feeling better.

“I know, girl,” you whispered, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

But tomorrow wasn’t really what weighed on you. It was the thought of Sam. The thought of how kind and patient he’d been. And the fear that you’d ruined whatever fragile thing was starting to grow between you two.

You weren’t going to let it happen again.

Your past— the yelling, the broken glass, the bruises you’d hidden under long sleeves— had taken so much from you already. But it wasn’t going to take this. It wasn’t going to take Sam. You refused to let those men, those memories, ruin something good. You weren't going to let them continue to control you. 

As you made your way to the kitchen, Bella trailing at your heels, you resolved to text him. To explain, even if it felt awkward or difficult. You couldn’t let the silence between you grow. But before you could, your phone buzzed on the counter. Picking it up, you saw Sam’s name lighting up the screen, and your heart gave an involuntary jolt.

The text read: “Hey, just wanted to check in. Missed you guys at the park this morning. Everything okay?”

You stared at the message for a long moment before typing out a reply. “Hey, yeah, I’m okay. Just overslept, sorry.”

His reply came almost instantly: “Not a worry :) I hope you got some rest at least. The girls missed Bella.”

You smiled softly, though a flicker of nerves still lingered before recycling. “I did, thanks.” 

Before you could overthink it, another message popped up: “I was thinking, I’ve been working on this recipe, and I might need some help. You know, use your culinary skills and all. Also could use someone to taste-test it and tell me if it’s edible.”

You blinked at the screen, reading it twice. Your heart gave a small flutter, but you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or something softer.

Another message popped up: “No pressure, though. If you’re busy or not feeling it, totally fine. Just thought it might be nice.”

He was careful. You could tell he was trying not to push after last night, and the effort didn’t go unnoticed. Your chest tightened, but not in a bad way. You stared at the message, torn. Dinner. At his place. Alone. The idea felt heavy, but not because of Sam— because of you. Still, you didn’t want to let fear win again. And besides, the way he framed it felt low stakes, almost casual.

Before you could overthink it, another message arrived: “Also, Rose has been stealing things off the counter lately, and I could really use some advice before she eats something she shouldn’t.”

That made you smile, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as Bella nudged your leg. 

“Okay”, you finally typed. “But I’m not an expert, so no promises about Rose.”

The reply came almost instantly: “You’ll do better than me. Friday night? Around 7?”

“Yeah, that works,” you wrote, your pulse quickening.

Sam followed up quickly: “Great. If you change your mind, don’t feel bad, just let me know.”

“I’ll be there,” you replied, before you could talk yourself out of it.

His final message was simple, but it made you smile again: “Looking forward to seeing you. And Bella too, of course. She’s my secret weapon to keep Rose and Fox in line.”

You set the phone down, exhaling slowly. Bella wagged her tail, watching you like she knew something important had just happened.

“I guess we’re going to Sam’s on Friday,” you murmured to her.

Bella’s tail thumped harder, and you reached down to scratch behind her ears. Nerves churned in your stomach, but there was something else there too. Something steadier. A kind of strength in the fact that you knew you were growing. You were leaving that shit behind you. 

Though, the doubts were still there, lingering just beneath the surface like they always were. As you stared at Sam’s text, you tried to push them down. You wanted to move on. You wanted to reclaim the part of your life that felt stolen. Dinner with Sam was a step forward. It wasn’t a declaration of trust or a promise to let your guard down completely, but it was something. Besides, Sam had never given you a reason to fear him. If anything, he’d gone out of his way to make you feel safe. You reminded yourself of his soft patience, his quick smile, the way he’d thanked you for dinner even after you’d practically fallen apart the night before. If anyone deserved a little faith, it was him.

The next few mornings at the park felt like an unspoken agreement to ease the tension. Sam didn’t mention your flinch or your teary goodbye. He treated you just the same as always— grinning as you approached, offering Bella a warm hello, and making little jokes as the dogs ran wild. It was comforting in a way, like he knew you needed the space to find your footing again.

By the time the evening of the dinner rolled around, you’d talked yourself into believing this was a good thing. A normal thing. Still, nerves clawed at your stomach as you approached Sam’s place. Bella trotted at your side, oblivious to your inner turmoil, but her calm presence grounded you just enough to knock on the door.

Sam answered almost immediately, his face lighting up when he saw you. “Hey, you made it,” he said warmly, stepping aside to let you in.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice a little quieter than you wanted it to be. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Sam offered a small shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Of course. And thanks for bringing Bella. The girls will be happy to see her.” 

As you stepped inside, you glanced around nervously. His house was cozy, filled with warm light and signs of life— a guitar leaning against the wall, a piano tucked into the far corner and a few books stacked on the coffee table, and a faint smell of something savory coming from the kitchen.

“You can let her off the leash if you want,” Sam said, gesturing toward Bella, who was already sniffing around curiously. “The girls are in the backyard. She can join them whenever.”

“Okay,” you said, unclipping her leash. Bella wagged her tail, giving you a reassuring glance before trotting off to explore.

“Dinner’s going to take a little while,” Sam said, nodding toward the kitchen. “Hope you’re ready to help, because I’m not exactly known for my cooking skills.”

You let out a nervous laugh, following him toward the kitchen. “Should I be worried?”

“Probably,” he teased, opening the fridge to pull out some ingredients. “Honestly, I need you to save me here. If you leave me to it, we’re eating charred chicken and plain rice.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you reached for a cutting board. “Good thing I’m here, then.”

“Exactly,” he said, smirking as he handed you a knife. “I knew you’d make this work.”

The lightness of his tone started to ease the tension in your chest. As you chopped vegetables and Sam worked beside you— throwing in exaggerated instructions and grinning every time he “consulted” you— it felt easy. Comfortable, even. You found yourself laughing more than you thought you would, and when Sam tasted the sauce you made and dramatically declared it “life-changing,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

“Ridiculously lucky to have you helping me,” he shot back, his grin boyish and teasing. You looked back at the chopping board with a hint of a blush. 

As the minutes ticked by, it became painfully clear that Sam and the sauce were not meant to be. He stirred it with all the confidence of a man who thought he knew what he was doing, but the sizzling sounds and occasional splatters told a very different story.

“Sam,” you said slowly, watching as he aggressively poked at the bubbling liquid with a wooden spoon, “what exactly are you doing?”

He glanced at you, utterly unbothered by the chaos he was creating. “Improvising,” he replied with a grin, giving the sauce an extra stir that sent a small splash onto the counter.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “It looks more like you’re waging war on it.”

“I’m adding character,” he said, feigning offense as he swirled the spoon around dramatically. “This is what chefs do— they experiment.”

“Chefs don’t usually burn the sauce, though,” you teased, leaning over to sniff the air. “Seriously, is that… smoke?”

He froze, his grin faltering as he gave the pot a closer look. “Okay, maybe it’s a little toasted. That’s a flavor profile, right?”

“Not when it smells like a campfire,” you shot back, stepping in to gently nudge him aside. “Alright, sauce master, let’s trade. I’ll handle this before it becomes a kitchen emergency.”

Sam relinquished the spoon with a mock pout, stepping back to let you take over. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “But only because I don’t want to deprive you of the joy of saving dinner.”

“Oh, how selfless of you,” you replied dryly, shooting him a playful glare before turning your attention to salvaging the sauce.

From behind you, Sam muttered something about being unappreciated, but when you glanced over your shoulder, you caught him grinning as he began chopping vegetables with exaggerated precision, clearly unbothered by his failed attempt at culinary greatness.

“You know,” he said, watching you expertly stir the sauce, “I think this is your master plan—let me screw something up so you can come in and save the day.”

“Obviously,” you quipped, shaking your head. “I mean, what better way to assert dominance in the kitchen than by rescuing dinner from your reckless hands?”

As you got started on stirring the sauce, Sam opened a cabinet and frowned. “Forgot the thyme. Again. Be right back— got some in the garden.”

You blinked, surprised. “You have a garden?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he shot back with a grin, grabbing the back door handle. “I’m full of surprises.”

You snorted. “What’s next? A compost bin?”

“Mock me all you want,” he called over his shoulder as he stepped outside. “But when this thyme makes you cry over how good this sauce tastes, you’ll owe me an apology!”

As Sam slipped out the back door to grab herbs from his garden, the house fell silent, save for the faint shuffle of the dog's paws as they followed him to the window, tails wagging lazily. You stood in the kitchen, absently wiping your palms on a tea towel. It was strange how quiet everything felt without Sam’s warm, easy presence nearby.

You glanced at the knife you’d been using earlier, resting precariously close to the edge of the counter. Muttering under your breath, you reached out to adjust it. As you stretched to grab the handle, your wrist brushed the corner of a wine glass that had been drying by the side of the sink.

Time seemed to slow as the glass tipped, wobbling once before gravity claimed it. It slipped from the counter and plummeted to the floor, shattering with a deafening crash.

The sound tore through the stillness like a gunshot. Instantly, your chest tightened, your breath catching as your heart began to race. It was so loud. So, so loud. And there was glass everywhere. Shit, shit, shit, shit. The sharp, crystalline sound echoed in your ears, and your mind reeled.

For a moment, you froze, staring at the shards scattered across the floor, gleaming like jagged little stars. Your vision blurred, and the kitchen around you seemed to waver, the walls closing in as a familiar, suffocating sense of dread washed over you.

The world around you dissolved into a haze. The glass wasn’t just glass anymore— it was every slammed door, every smashed object that had signaled danger in the past. Your pulse roared in your ears, drowning out any rational thoughts. Your hands shook as you instinctively dropped to your knees, fumbling for the larger shards, desperate to clean it up before Sam came back inside.

“Oh God, oh God,” you whispered frantically, your voice trembling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh God.”

The words tumbled out in a panicked, incoherent mess as your hands worked faster, clutching at the broken pieces, heedless of the sharp edges biting into your fingertips. The sting barely registered; all you could think about was fixing it, making it right, undoing the mistake.

Bella barked once, and you wondered briefly if it was at Sam, but you hardly noticed. Your breathing grew shallow and uneven, your chest heaving as you fought to keep the panic at bay.

The back door swung open with a creak, and Sam’s voice called out, worriedly, “Hey, what was that? Are you okay?”

He stepped inside, his gaze falling to the scene before him. You were kneeling on the floor, your shoulders hunched and trembling, surrounded by a sea of broken glass.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” he said quickly, his voice softening as he set the herbs on the counter. “What happened? Are you okay?”

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t do anything but mumble a frantic stream of apologies. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— I’ll fix it, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I’ll—”

“Hey,” Sam interrupted gently, crouching down a safe distance away. His tone was calm, careful, like he was trying not to spook a skittish animal. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Just stop for a second, okay? You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You shook your head, your hands still trembling as you tried to pick up another shard. “I have to clean it up. I— I can’t leave it like this. I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop,” Sam said more firmly this time, his hand hovering near yours but not touching. “Please. Just stop.”

His voice cut through the haze, grounding you for a moment. Your hands faltered, falling still as you finally looked up at him. His face was open, his brow furrowed with concern. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t upset.

“Let me handle it,” he said softly, holding your gaze. “You don’t have to do this. Just… take a breath for me, okay?”

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I ruined everything—”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, cutting you off again. “Hey, listen to me. It’s fine. Really. I don’t care about the glass. I care about you.”

His words hit you like a lifeline, cutting through the spiral of panic just enough for you to take a shaky breath.

You bit your lip, wiping at your face as you tried to pull yourself together. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again.

“Don’t be,” he said simply, without a hint of frustration or condescension. “It’s okay.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you nodded, your chest heaving as you tried to follow his instructions. Your hands hovered over the shards for a moment longer before you finally let the glass clatter to the floor, your hands falling limply into your lap.

“That’s it,” Sam murmured, his voice low and soothing. He crouched in front of you, his hands hovering just over yours, hesitant. “Can I—?” he started to ask, and when you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, he gently wrapped his fingers over your hand. His touch was careful, deliberate, as if he knew the wrong move might send you spiraling further.

His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, his touch warm and grounding. “Okay,” he said softly, his eyes fixed on yours, kind and steady. “Let’s just breathe together. You’re safe. Right here, you’re safe.”

You tried to focus on his words, but your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself, your lungs refusing to fill properly. Your breaths came quick and shallow, each one catching like it wasn’t enough.

“In through your nose,” Sam coaxed, his voice a quiet anchor in the chaos. He exaggerated the motion, inhaling deeply, slow and steady, his shoulders rising just enough for you to notice. “Like this. Just follow me.”

You tried, your breaths hitching at first, but he stayed with you. His eyes didn’t leave yours— not for a second. They weren’t impatient or searching for the right thing to say. They were just… there, holding you in place like a tether.

“That’s it,” he encouraged when you managed even a fraction of a steady inhale. “Now out through your mouth. Slow, like this,” he demonstrated again, his exhale controlled and quiet, and you mirrored it as best you could.

Your hands trembled under his, and he squeezed them gently, his thumbs never stopping their slow, soothing rhythm. “You’re okay,” he said, his tone so soft, so certain, it almost broke something inside you.

Your chest still felt tight, but the air was coming a little easier now, your breaths slowing in uneven increments. Your vision, blurry from tears and panic, began to clear, and you could see the worry etched into his face, the way his brow furrowed just slightly.

“You’re doing so good,” he said, his voice steady, never wavering. “Just keep going. One breath at a time.”

You nodded weakly, tears spilling over despite your efforts to keep them at bay. A shaky sob broke free, and you quickly turned your head, ashamed, but Sam’s grip on your hands tightened, grounding you.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling your gaze back to him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide. Not from me.”

His words hit like a gentle wave, washing over the raw edges of your panic. You blinked rapidly, trying to pull yourself together, but his unwavering presence made it harder to keep the walls up.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” he said immediately, his tone firm but gentle. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I promise.”

His words wrapped around you like a safety net, and though the panic hadn’t completely left, it was no longer suffocating. Slowly, your breathing evened out, the shaking in your hands subsiding under the warmth of his.

Sam stayed there, crouched in front of you, never rushing, never looking away. His kind eyes softened further when you finally met them fully, your body still trembling slightly but no longer on the edge of breaking apart.

“There you are,” he said quietly, a small, relieved smile pulling at his lips.

Sam waited until he was sure you wouldn’t move before he stood, grabbing the broom and dustpan from a nearby corner. As he swept up the broken glass, he spoke gently, his tone casual but soothing. “I broke my favorite coffee mug last week. Sent coffee everywhere. It was a disaster.”

His attempt to lighten the mood made something stir in your chest— something that felt like gratitude, even if it was buried under layers of shame and panic.

Once the glass was gone and the floor was safe again, Sam turned back to you. “C’mon,” he said softly, holding out a hand to help you up. “Let’s sit down for a minute, yeah?”

You stared at the hand extended toward you for a few long beats, your eyes fixed on his fingers as if they were foreign objects. It wasn’t just a hand— it was trust, it was care, it was safety, and yet all you could feel in that moment was a deep, gnawing hesitation. Your chest still felt tight, your heart racing as echoes of past moments flooded your mind.

The trembling in your hands betrayed you, but Sam didn’t push. He didn’t frown or look impatient. His hand remained steady, palm open, an unspoken reassurance that the choice was entirely yours.

His voice was soft, cutting through the storm in your head like a lifeline. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

That was all it took for something to shift. You blinked, the edges of your vision clearing as you finally looked up at him. His expression wasn’t pitying, wasn’t concerned in a way that made you feel small— it was just patient. Steady. Kind.

Your fingers twitched at your sides before you finally reached out, your hand trembling as it found his. His grip was gentle but firm, warm in a way that made your chest ache with a mix of relief and vulnerability. He didn’t pull you up too quickly or make a big deal of it. He just guided you to your feet, his other hand hovering nearby as if ready to catch you should you falter.

“There you go,” he said quietly, his tone light yet soothing, as if you’d just accomplished something monumental. And, in a way, you had.

Your legs felt shaky as you stood, and when Sam gently guided you to the couch, you didn’t resist. Hearing the commotion, Bella, Rose and Fox had joined you both, sniffing carefully at you, no doubt smelling the anxiety in the air. 

Sam guided you gently to the couch, his hand never leaving yours until you were seated. The soft cushions welcomed you, but your body remained stiff, your shoulders drawn tight as though bracing for impact. He sat beside you, his eyes scanning your face carefully. His hands rested on his knees, open and unassuming, making no move to invade your space further.

“I didn’t mean to freak out like that,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Sam's movements were slow and deliberate as he nodded. “I know. But something tells me this wasn’t just about the wine glass.” He hesitated, his gaze softening as he shifted to sit beside you on the couch, leaving a comfortable distance between you. “Do you want to talk about it? If you don’t, that’s okay. But if you do… I’m here. No judgment.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “It’s a long story,” you said quietly, your words a little rushed, almost as though you were trying to dismiss the idea altogether. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“It matters,” Sam countered gently. “You matter. But I won’t push you. We can just sit here if that’s what you need.”

His words felt like an anchor in a storm. He wasn’t pressuring you, wasn’t prying— he was just there, a steady presence that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let some of the weight go. You drew in a shaky breath, staring down at your hands as the words started to form in your throat.

“It’s not pretty,” you warned, your voice trembling. “It’s… it’s a lot.”

Sam nodded, his expression unwavering. “I can handle a lot.”

You hesitated, the weight of Sam’s steady, concerned gaze almost too much to bear. You’d never been good at this— letting someone in, being vulnerable. But here he was, sitting so close you could feel his warmth, his eyes searching yours like he genuinely wanted to understand. It felt impossible to explain everything, but you knew if you didn’t at least try, the moment would pass, and the weight you carried would stay right where it always had— on your shoulders alone.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in your voice. “It’s… it’s not an easy thing to talk about,” you began, staring down at your hands, which were clenched tightly in your lap. “I’ve never really told anyone before.”

Sam leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. His voice was gentle but firm. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. But if you want to, I’m here. I want to listen.”

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to continue. “I’ve… been in bad relationships. Really bad ones.” Your voice wavered, and you paused, your fingers digging into your palms as if the pressure could keep you grounded.

Sam didn’t say anything, but you felt the shift in his posture, the subtle way he straightened like he was bracing himself for whatever you were about to say.

“It started off so small,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Little things, you know? Like comments about how I dressed, or what I did. Controlling stuff. But it didn’t stay that way. It got worse— way worse.”

You glanced up at him briefly, and the look on his face made your stomach twist. His brows were furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes… God, his eyes were filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Anger? Sadness? Maybe both.

“Soon it wasn’t just words,” you continued, your voice barely audible now. “There were… fights. Things thrown at me. And sometimes it wasn’t just things— sometimes it was…” You trailed off, your throat tightening painfully as the memories threatened to overwhelm you.

Sam’s jaw tightened, and his hands flexed where they rested on his knees, but he didn’t interrupt.

“They’d hurt me,” you finally forced out, the words feeling sharp and jagged in your throat. “Physically. Emotionally. In ways I didn’t even realize until it was too late. And I let it happen because… because I thought it was normal. Or that it would stop if I was better.”

Sams broke your train of thoughts, his voice slightly croaky. “‘They’?” He swallowed. 

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly, angry at yourself for falling apart like this. “It happened twice. Got away from one abuser just to get into a relationship with another.” You chuckled humorlessly, “I was young, and stupid.” There was a long beat of silence, your uneven breaths and Sam's anchoring, steady ones the only sound in the room. “Even now, I… I can’t stop expecting someone to yell, or grab me, or…” You shook your head, unable to finish the sentence.

Sam exhaled softly, the sound filled with a quiet frustration that wasn’t aimed at you. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t imagine… I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like for you.”

You shrugged, your shoulders hunched. “I got out. That’s all that matters, right? I should just be over it by now.”

“No,” Sam said firmly, his tone so sudden and certain that it startled you. You looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his expression. “That’s not how it works. What they did to you— it doesn’t just go away. And it’s not your fault that it doesn’t. None of it was your fault.”

His words hit you like a physical blow, and before you realized what you were doing, you leaned into him, your body tilting toward his as if seeking comfort. You rested your head on his slim shoulder. He didn’t move, didn’t pull back or hesitate, just stayed perfectly still, letting you make the decision to close the distance.

“I hate how much power they still have over me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I hate that I can’t even break a stupid glass without falling apart.”

Sam shook his head, his hand lifting hesitantly before settling lightly on your arm. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you in a way you didn’t expect. “You’re not falling apart,” he said softly. “You’re still here. So strong, and brave, for trusting me.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound catching in your throat. “It doesn’t feel like strength. It feels like I’m barely holding on most days.”

Sam’s grip on your arm tightened just slightly, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that was both comforting and careful. “Help me ease the burden? Maybe you are holding on. But I can help you carry some of your weight.”

You blinked back tears, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his voice making it harder to keep your defenses up. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a way that softened his entire face. “Because I care about you. And I hate that anyone ever made you feel like you weren’t worth caring about.”

His words shattered something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft, broken sob. Sam’s hand moved to your back, his palm resting there lightly.

“And,” he added cautiously, his voice quiet, “I really, really like you.”

You lifted your head to stare at him, the words hanging in the air like they’d been suspended just for you. A part of you wanted to shy away, to laugh it off, to hide behind that defense you’d built so carefully. But his eyes— those warm, steady eyes— kept you anchored. He wasn’t taking the words back. He wasn’t looking away.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost cautious. His hand moved up your arm in a featherlight touch. “Don’t feel like you have to say anything,” he murmured, his thumb brushing just slightly against your sleeve. “And I’m sorry if… if that wasn’t the right time. I just—” He exhaled, his lips twitching in a nervous half-smile. “I just want to be here for you.”

You dropped your gaze to your hands, fidgeting with your fingers, trying to steady the racing in your chest. When you glanced back up, your eyes moved over him with quiet curiosity, as if seeing him for the first time. The faint scruff lining his jaw, the soft mustache that twitched just slightly when he breathed, the way his brows dipped, like he was bracing himself for you to pull away. And those eyes. God, those eyes.

“Sam,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. Your hand moved almost without thought, finding the solid warmth of his forearm.

His gaze flicked down to where your fingers rested before returning to yours, his brows lifting just slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was soft, but there was something raw in it, something that made your chest ache.

You leaned in a fraction, testing the space between you. Your heart hammered, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “Kiss me, please,” you murmured. The words felt foreign but right, trembling as they left your lips.

His breath caught. You could see it, feel it. His hand shifted slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and deliberate, like he was giving you every chance to back away.

You nodded, your body moving closer, instinct overriding fear. “Yes.”

Sam exhaled, his lips parting slightly as he leaned in, closing the distance. The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, impossibly tender, like he was holding back everything he wanted to give. His hand moved to your face, his fingers warm and steady as they cradled your jaw, grounding you.

The kiss deepened just slightly, enough to make your breath hitch, enough to remind you of just how good it felt to do this, with someone you liked— someone that made you feel safe. His other hand slipped down to yours, fingers intertwining in a way that made you feel tethered, present. His thumb brushed softly over your skin.

When he pulled back, it was slow, deliberate, his forehead resting against yours like he couldn’t bring himself to let you go just yet. His breathing was steady, calming, and you let yourself match it, your chest rising and falling in sync with his.

“I’ll make sure you feel safe,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand lingered at your jaw, his thumb brushing a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. “Every day, if you let me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes closing as the weight of his words settled over you. They weren’t just pretty promises; you could feel the truth in them, in him. Slowly, you opened your eyes and nodded, your lips curving into the smallest, most vulnerable smile.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him. Or, at the very least, you wanted to try. Maybe this could work. 

🐾

Tag List - @fleetingjake @allof--mylove @hailtheaeon

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[do-it-jakey-baby]

Fourth of July

Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Synopsis: Sam hated you, it was evident in the way that he spoke to you every time you saw him, but one Fouth of July weekend, everything changes.

Warnings: smut, adult themes, unprotected sex, enemies to lovers, profanity, drinking, mean Sam, soft Sam

18+, MINORS DNI

Your tyres crunched along the gravel as you navigated across the parking lot, until you found the perfect wide space for your Land Rover Defender. You parked up, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and making your way to the trunk. You open it up, your furry little companion barking with excitement, scrunching his nose and panting.

“Hey, boy! Ready for a weekend of adventure?” You giggle, ruffling the curls on the top of his head. He jumps down from the car and runs alongside you, looking up every so often to make sure you’re still there. You’re back in Michigan for the Fourth of July weekend, celebrating as usual with your best friends at a cabin your rent every year for the festivities. As you round the corner, you spot a familiar face. Sighing, you prepare yourself for whatever he has in store for you today. He’s bent down, picking up crates of beer to take into the cabin, but peers up as he hears your boots traipsing through the stony ground.

“What are you doing here?” He rolls his eyes, pushing his hair back as it falls around his face.

“I come here every year, Sam. You know that.” You frown, already finding his presence unbearable.

“Just thought you might be busy this year.” He mumbles.

“Well I’m not. Would it kill you to not be a total jackass for like, five minutes?” You throw your hands up, exasperated. This wasn’t how you wanted your weekend to begin, especially after the week from hell you’d just endured.

“That wouldn’t be very me of me, would it?” He scoffs, smirking slightly.

“No, it certainly would not.”

He cocks his head to the side, still sporting that infuriating smirk. “What, no smartass remark?”

You sigh, rubbing your hand across your forehead. “I don’t have the energy for you today, Sam. Why don’t you just pretend like I’m not here, avoid me and I’ll avoid you.”

His smirk suddenly vanishes from his face, replaced with an expression you can’t quite read. He stands, taking a step towards you.

“You ok?”

You recoil slightly, taking a step back and almost tripping over your dog. “Yes. Fine. I’ll be better when you leave me alone. Where are your brothers, anyway?” You tap your fingers impatiently against your thigh, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to end. Your eyes scan the front of the cabin, finding no one else’s presence.

“Inside setting up. Why, you trying to ditch me already?”

You scoff, your arms raising from your sides to cross over the front of your torso. “Ditch you? Sam, we never speak, let alone hang out together. You literally just asked me why I’m even here. So yeah, I’m looking for your brothers because they actually like me.”

He just stands there, staring at you with the same expression painted on his face. You raise your eyebrows at him, confusion taking hold at his out-of-character behaviour. In the 6 years you’ve known him, he’s never once asked you if you’re ok. He doesn’t take an interest in you, and is never nice.

“I’m really not in the mood for this today. Please, can we not do this.”

He looks momentarily defeated, but quickly shakes it off with a shrug of his shoulders. He bends back down, picking up the crate of beer. Thank god for that. You take that as the end of the conversation, so move past him quickly and turn the handle to the door of the cabin, letting yourself in.

“Honey, I’m home!” You call out into the foyer. It only takes a fleeting moment for a mess of dark brown curls to round the corner, running directly to you and lifting you up into his toned arms.

“Peach!” He hollers at you, spinning you around.

“Daniel! Careful of Hendrix!” You giggle, holding onto his shoulders tightly.

He puts you down, placing a kiss to your cheek, then bends down to fuss over your dog.

“Henny, my man! You’re just as handsome as the last time I saw you, buddy!”

Hendrix wastes no time flopping down onto his back, showcasing his tummy eagerly. Danny obliges, giving plenty of loving pets.

“When did you get here?”

He looks up at you from the floor, still running his hands over Hendrix’s fluffy coat. “Like, twenty minutes ago? Got unloaded pretty quickly. Sam is just helping Jake fill up the bar, fuck knows where Josh is.”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You grin, watching as Josh enters the room, his arms outstretched to you.

“Beautiful girl, how are you?” He coos into your ear as he envelopes you in a bear hug.

“Could be better, but let’s not fixate on that. I’m here to have a good time with my best friends.”

“But we can talk about it at some point right?” He pulls back slightly, giving you a concerned look.

“Maybe, but not now. Please.”

Just like always, your saving grace plods into the room. Jake pushes the sunglasses that are sat low on his nose up into his hair, smiling brightly at you.

“I thought I felt the temperature raise, the sunshine has returned. Hi, sugar.” He places his hands onto your shoulders, giving you the once over before kissing your cheek softly.

“Hi Jacob.” You giggle, scrunching your nose.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. You look up to see Sam stood in the doorway, his steely expression fixed on you. You audibly sigh, feeling deflated again after such a warm reception.

“I’m uh, gunna go get a drink.”

You exit the room hastily, making a beeline for the bar. You find a lowball, fill it with ice, then pour yourself some neat whiskey. The good kind that Jake always keeps generously stocked. You swirl the amber liquid around in the glass, then take a hearty glug, savouring the burn as it slips down your throat. You take a few centering breaths, but are interrupted when you feel a presence in the room with you. It moves from the door to beside you, a pair of hands reaching out to grasp the bottle of whiskey.

“Didn’t know you liked this stuff.”

“You don’t know anything about me, Sam.” You huff, taking another swig from your glass. “I wasn’t joking when I said I’m not in the mood for you and your attitude today.”

He leans on the counter next to you. “I’m not trying to have an attitude with you now though, am I?”

“Makes a change.”

He smirks at you, pissing you off even further. “Sam. I said I’m not in the mood, leave me alone. I’ve-” You sigh loudly, raking your hands through your hair. “Never mind…”

Sam places his hand on your arm, causing you to turn and face him in shock. His face softens for a moment, then turns more serious. “No… what were you going to say?”

You feel yourself reaching boiling point, your hand darting out to grasp onto your glass as you knock back the rest of your whiskey. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slamming the lowball down onto the counter. “Fine, you wanna know so badly? I’ve had a really shitty week. My boyfriend broke up with me and now I have to move out of my apartment. Happy now? You wanna give me some sort of snide comment about how he must be so happy to be rid of me? Go ahead, Sam. I’m all fucking ears.” You grit your teeth, bracing yourself.

Sam clenches his jaw, his eyes studying your face intricately. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing within his throat. He’s just standing there, looking at you. What a fucking prick.

“Are you really just gunna stand there and stare at me?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, like he’s deciding on if he should say something or not. You’re tired of waiting now, so you begin to push past him to leave the room and find solace amongst real friends. That is, until his hand darts out and firmly grabs onto your wrist.

“Wait.” He mumbles.

You tug on your arm, but it’s no use. He’s got a vice-like grip onto you. Tears sting in your eyes, a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “Sam, what are you doing?! Let me go.”

His eyes widen and he loosens his grip ever so slightly. “Please, I don’t want you to go. I’m sorry.”

Your face contorts, your confusion displayed clearly across it as you struggle to figure out on earth is going on. “You don’t want me to go? Why? Fucking hell, Sam, you’re giving me whiplash.”

“I, uh-, I don’t like seeing you sad.” He mumbles, his fingers now rubbing along the pulse point of your wrist.

“What the fuck has gotten into you? That’s bullshit, and you know it.” You spit, feeling the fury rising within your stomach.

Sam’s face falls, he looks genuinely upset by your words. “That’s not true.”

You frown at him, your eyes scanning his face for any sign of deceit but you find that he’s actually being genuine for once. “Then why are you so mean to me all the time?”

He swallows again, seemly caught in an internal battle. His eyes dart around the area, looking at anything but you.

“You know what, Sam? If you can’t answer me then I have nothing more to say to you.” You had lost all patience at this point, wanting nothing more than to rejoin the others. You attempted to snatch your wrist back, but Sam’s grip tightens once more.

“You want to know why I’m so mean to you?”

“Obviously, hence me asking.” You roll your eyes.

“Because it’s the only way I could make sure you thought about me.”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve never had your full attention. You’re always distracted by other people, always laughing and joking and having fun with anyone but me. But when I’m mean, you look at me. You notice me.” He whispers.

“Sam, you’re confusing me so much. Why don’t you just talk to me like a normal person?”

“Because I don’t know how to!” He raises his voice, slamming his hand down onto the counter. “I was afraid of getting closer to you. Afraid of rejection. I pushed you away because I didn’t want to admit how I’m feeling. How I’ve felt all this fucking time.”

Your eyes widen, the pieces slowly coming together to form the whole picture. “How you were… feeling?”

“I like you, ok? A lot.” He rubs his hand across his face.

“You… like me?”

“Christ, Y/N. Of course I fucking like you. I just never wanted you to know, so I’ve acted like a total ass.”

You stand there, staring blankly at the man before you who has just given you the most open and vulnerable conversation ever, revealing that he has feelings for you.

“Please say something.” He mutters.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, now you’re telling me you like me? This is so overwhelming.”

“I don’t hate you, I could never hate you. I’m sorry.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

Oh, god. Forever. Like, a stupidly long time.”

“And you never thought to say anything to me, at all?”

Sam lets out a dry laugh. “I thought about it, but then I saw how you are with my brothers, with Daniel. The way you light up a room. How nice you are to everyone. I knew I’d just drag you down, or not be good enough for you. Then you started dating that dickhead. So I kept it to myself and did what I could to get you out of my head. But it never worked.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“I don’t really know, I guess it just kinda came out. I felt bad that I’d upset you while you’re going through shit.” He steps closer to you, the scent of his cologne taking over your senses completely. It’s so undeniably Sam, earthy and musky, reminiscent of the incense he frequently burns. You feel yourself gravitating towards him, like there’s a magnetic pull between the two of you. He notices the proximity, so reaches out and pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sammy.” You whisper.

You hear his breath hitch in his throat. “You’ve never called me that before.” He whispers. His fingers are still in your hair, trailing down to stroke against the side of your face.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Sam swallows thickly, before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

You take a deep breath, about to spill your own truth. “When I first met you, when I was over at Danny’s house that day, I had the biggest crush on you. I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever laid eyes on. To begin with, you were nice to me, but then you turned so suddenly. It kinda broke my heart, y’know. I’ve spent so many years trying to chisel away at you, hoping that someday you’d stop hating me. But you never did.” You sigh, feeling extremely vulnerable.

Sam grimaces, his thumb ghosting over the shell of your ear. “I was just terrified of my feelings. I’m so sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I acted like such a dickhead.”

Before you can stop yourself, your hand darts up to Sam’s face, cupping his cheek. He sucks in a sharp breath, the proximity between you both now considerably smaller. He moves his hand from the side of your face to the back of your neck, massaging his fingers into the nape. Your lips part slightly at the feeling, and you watch as his eyes darken.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He says in a low growl. His face is now only inches away from yours. You can feel his breath, hot and fragrant with the lingering scent of the Topo Chico he had whilst unpacking. In a moment of weakness, you close the gap. Your lips brush against his lightly, eliciting a groan from deep inside his chest. He kisses you back, his grip on your neck growing tighter. His lips move against yours desperately, like he would perish without the contact. He steps forward, pushing you up against the counter. You let out a soft whine into his mouth as the kiss deepens, your hands sliding up the back of his shirt and tracing patterns on his soft skin. You feel him shudder under your touch, pulling you closer and enveloping you in him. His tongue begs for entrance into your mouth, and you oblige, letting it mingle with yours.

Suddenly, you pull back. Your eyes widen as you realise what’s happening, and the speed in which it is. “Sam, what are we doing?”

“I have no idea, but I don’t want it to stop.” He mutters, his arms still wrapped around you.

You feel conflicted. One the one hand, this is something that you’ve secretly always wanted. But on the other, you found it hard to just forget the years of torment that he had put you through. “I don’t know if I can do this. You really hurt me over the years, regardless of how I felt about you.”

Sam frowns. “Please.” He murmurs, his hands gripping into you. “Please, just let me prove that I’m not an asshole. Let me make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it, believe me I do. Just give me a chance to show you what I can really be like.”

You rest your forehead on his. “I don’t know. God, you make it so hard to say no.”

He closes his eyes. “Then don’t, angel.”

Something inside of you snaps at the pet name, igniting a raging inferno. “Fuck it.” You snake your hands up to his face, pulling him closer and kissing his lips hungrily. His hands drop down to your hips, gripping onto them firmly as he yanks you into him. His desire for you is on full display, evident in the way that he’s kissing you back.

“God, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this.” He whispers between kisses.

You hitch your leg up around his waist and his hand moves to cradle your thigh. You feel your body growing hotter as the situation unfolds, the pressure in the pit of your stomach almost unbearable. His lips drift from yours and down onto your neck, lightly nipping against the sensitive skin. You let out a soft moan, which he seems to enjoy judging by how he’s straining against you.

“Take me to your room.” You pant.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He bends and picks you up in one swift movement, your legs wrapping around him as he hurries across the hall and through the bedroom door. He throws you down onto the bed, a menacing look in his eye.

“Are we really doing this?”

“I fucking hope so. Only if you’re comfortable with it, angel.”

You grab onto him, pulling him down onto the bed. You climb over, straddling his lap and pressing yourself down onto him, feeling every inch of his body.

“You feel so good. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve imagined you like this.”

You begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, gazing down at him. “Oh yeah? Tell me more.”

He lets out a shaky breath as you begin to trail your lips down his neck. “I- fuck. I think about what it would feel like to have your hands on me, what you’d sound like when I find all the right spots, how you’d say my name breathlessly.”

“Like this?” You coo, splaying your hands across his now bare torso, grinding down onto him as you dig your nails in lightly.

He lets out a low, guttural moan, his hands grasping at the hemline of your t-shirt. You lift your arms up to allow him better access, feeling the material slide up and over your head. You aren’t wearing a bra today, which leaves you entirely naked from the waist up.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He leans forward and sucks your nipple into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping over the sensitive bud. Your back arches at the contact, a soft whimper falling from your lips.

“God, those pretty noises. You drive me crazy, Y/N.”

“Keep it up and you’ll hear more.” You smirk.

His eyes rake over your body hungrily as he explores you with his hands, getting to know every inch. “I’m going to savour every goddamn second of this.” He growls, flipping you over so that your back is pressed against the mattress. You writhe against him, the electricity of the atmosphere zapping in your ears and all over your body with every touch. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sends shockwaves through you. Your thumb drifts up to his bottom lip, pulling it down lightly. He takes it into his mouth and bites the tip, causing your eyes to flutter back into your head. He manoeuvres himself down the bed, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them down slowly, then makes light work of sliding your panties over your hips. He bunches them up into his hand, putting them in his pocket.

“Souvenir.” He winks.

“You’re gross!” You giggle, pulling him towards you for another kiss. You feel your jaw fly open as he drags his middle finger up through your folds, teasing your entrance.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“It’s all for you.” You breath.

A low growl rumbles from his chest as he begins to work circles over your clit with the pad of his thumb. You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling blossoming between your legs, Sam getting you exactly where you need to be at a frightening pace. You begin to claw at his belt buckle, but he grabs onto your wrist and pins it up above your head.

“This is about you right now, angel.” He clicks his tongue, quickening his fingers as you squirm beneath him. You’ve always wondered how it would feel to be at the hands of Sam. You used to watch in awe as he picked away at his bass on stage, the way he’d throw his head back when he got lost in the music. He was exceptionally talented with his hands, and now you were finding out about the other side of his skill. As you’re transfixed on the feeling, you don’t realise he’s now lowered himself down even further until his tongue makes contact with your clit. You gasp, bundling your hands into his silky waves. He focuses his tongue on your sweet spot, whilst pumping two fingers in and out of you, curling up to reach where you need it most. You’re unravelling rapidly, your breaths laboured as he coaxes your climax from you.

“Sammmm.” You whine.

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you. M’gunna take care of you like I always should have.”

You feel your legs shudder as his words tip you over the edge. He works you through it steadily, his lips ghosting over your neck and collarbones. You sigh softly, then prop yourself up onto your elbows.

“Take your fucking pants off.”

Sam looks momentarily taken aback by your brashness, but its quickly replaced as a devious grin spreads across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

He stands and fulfils your request, unbuckling his belt and letting it thud to the floor. He pops the button and unzips, sliding the pants over this thighs and letting them pool around his ankles. He steps out, kicking them backwards and stands proudly in front of you.

“Lose the boxers, too.”

He smirks, flicking his fingers into the waistband and taking them off, meeting the same fate as his pants in a pile behind him. God, he’s gorgeous.

You beckon him towards you with your finger, looking up at him with lust filled eyes. He moves to hover over you, but you wag your finger in front of his face. “On the bed next to me.”

He lays down beside you and you raise up onto your thighs, climbing over and straddling him. His eyes widen as you take him into your hand, pumping a few times, then line him up with your entrance and slide down onto him until he’s filled you completely. He lets out a strangled cry, his hands flying up to grip into the meat of your hips. You begin to lift up, starting with an agonisingly slow pace. Sam’s eyes meet yours, pleading for further movement.

“Oh, you want more?” You tease, changing pace immediately and bouncing up and down with force.

“Fuck!” He chokes, his fingernails digging into your skin, marking you for days to come. He drives up to meet you, the tension in the air thick as your sweaty bodies blend together effortlessly. Everything is a blur as you both reach your peaks together, your movements becoming sloppy as the pleasure consumes you. His hand snakes up between your breasts and grips around your throat, constricting the blood flow and making your head feel deliciously fuzzy. Your walls begin to flutter, so Sam reaches forward and teases your clit, his left hand still wrapped tightly around your neck. He stares into your eyes, his pupils blown wide, mouthing cum for me. You let out an obscene moan, tipping your head back in ecstasy as the pleasure washes over you like the sunshine on a summer’s day. Sam’s hands fly to your hips, pulling you down onto him roughly as he reaches his own release.

“Holy shit.” He gasps as he twitches inside you.

You press your forehead to his and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He whispers, sweat dripping down his brow. He kisses your lips with a newfound passion, letting his tongue swipe against your bottom lip. You place your fingertips gently on his cheeks, tracing them down to his jawline.

“I forgive you.” You smile, watching his face light up.

He kisses you again, over and over. “Thank you. Thank you.” He chants, squeezing you impossibly hard as you giggle in his arms.

“I suppose we should uh, clean ourselves up and re-join the others.” You chuckle.

“Yeah, they probably think we’ve killed each other.” Sam grins.

You both re-dress, using the bathroom in Sam’s room to fix your hair and smudged make-up, then exit the room one by one. As you enter the living area, you’re met with 3 pairs of eyes staring at you. You give them a sheepish smile, rubbing your elbow nervously.

“Fucking finally.” Jake smirks.

You throw your head in your hands, your face flushing the deepest shade of crimson. Sam bristles beside you as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You owe me $20, cough up!” Jake nudges Josh, who is rolling his eyes.

“You guys made a bet?!” You scold, glaring at them.

“Oh honey, this bet has been going on for longer than you can imagine.” Josh laughs, sending you a wink.

“Yeah, yeah. Can we not. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” Sam places his arm around you, causing all of the hairs on your body stand to attention. The display of affection in front of his brothers is truly heartwarming, and you know in that moment you made the right decision.

“Shall we go grab a drink?” He whispers, smiling down at you.

“I’d love that.”

As you walk off into the kitchen, you hear the muffled sounds of the three boys engaged in a lively conversation.

“I always knew they’d find each other one day.”

~

To be continued… ?

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter One

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious theme, Bickering, Brotherly Taunting, Uncomfortable situations, Yearning (oh the yearning) Smoking, Alcohol (it's a bar- feels self explanatory but just for safety) Shitty dad jokes, and silly goofy boy time!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Jake has spent most of his 20's single or just random dates here and there. Unfortunately for him, his brothers and their partners are all on board for trying to find him the love of his life.

Author's Note: hehe hi :) I couldn't resist any longer. I hope you love Jake as much as I do.

Beggars Song - Matt Maeson "Oh yeah, I'm a beat down, washed up, son of a bitch, I got one more cigarette and all my money is spent, but I'ma Be damned if I let it keep me down."

The soft ‘click’ of the door latching behind me as I sneak out of Willa and Quinn’s apartment. It stopped snowing a few hours ago, so the plows have had time to take care of the roads. Hopefully, they could get out of there quickly enough to make it home. I can’t be shocked that we all got roped into a slumber party, especially with Josh involved. I honestly didn’t even mind it; sometimes, spending time with everyone is nice, not in the bar. My heart was whole, watching everyone laugh and smile together. 

Their apartment complex wasn’t too far from the bar, but I don’t trust the roads enough to drive the speed limit.

‘Oh, what a night, 

Late December back in ‘63..’ 

“Oooh, this one hits,” I say as the song fills the car. Turning the volume, I tap along on my steering wheel. Taking my time, I can appreciate how the snow softly coats the trees, which kind of makes up for the lack of leaves. The sun feels extra bright today, bouncing off all the snow piles and practically making the ground light up. 

‘What a lady, what a night.’ 

“Oh, I, I got a funny feeling when she walked in the room,” I quietly sing along. I’ve always been a little partial to the “oldies” as they say on the radio, but I grew up listening to all of it. Maybe I’m just a sucker for nostalgia. 

Pulling into my usual spot, ‘Oh, what a night,’ I sit for a second, contemplating whether I should run upstairs real quick or go into the bar. I probably should at least change. I’ve been in these clothes for almost twenty-four hours. 

As fast as I can, without busting my ass on the ice, I walk to the stairwell. It’s unfortunately not the most insulated, so I hustle upstairs; the first chilly days always catch you off guard.  The warmth hits me when I get into the apartment, my body letting out one last shiver, shaking the chill from outside off. 

After finding a clean button-up and switching into new pants, I feel like a new human. I take a few minutes to brush my teeth, spray myself with some cologne, and then make a cup of coffee. The warm drink on a cold day routine never misses. I scroll through my emails while waiting for my coffee to finish brewing before heading to the bar. 

The brisk air has me running down the stairs, fumbling with my keys to unlock the back door to the bar. I quickly turn the keys, hearing the heavy ‘clunk’ of the deadbolt flipping over. I scoot myself inside, pulling the door shut behind me while letting out another shiver. 

My body freezes when I hear sounds coming from the actual bar. Jesus Christ, NO. My heart rate spikes as I creep down the hallway, not wanting to give myself away. As if whoever or whatever is in here didn’t hear the door, you dumbass.  I still can’t see out into the bar, but the faint sounds are becoming much less muffled as I get closer.

“Fuck, what do we do?” 

“Just get dressed, baby. Go, go, go.” 

Is that Danny? I take a few more steps before finally seeing his tall figure standing shirtless near one of the end booths. He’s clearly buttoning his pants when I see a pair of smaller arms reach out behind him. Oh my god, Melody.  I watch as he fumbles around, trying to flip his shirt from inside out, when he turns around and locks eyes with me. I can see any ounce of life drain from his face from a mile away. 

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Still, it is realistically ten seconds before I spit out the only question I can manage to think of, “What the fuck is going on?” 

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“Jake, really, I’m so sorry,” Dan is about to plead his case now. 

Looking at him, I take a deep breath, knowing he genuinely feels terrible about this. “It’s fine,” I say, touching his arm. 

“I will just take the day to really clean the bar, I suppose,” letting the smile sneak onto my face to ease the tension. 

He lets a small laugh, “I’ll help since it’s my bad anyway.” 

“Oh god,” I let slip. That was supposed to be an inside thought, but here we are. 

“What?” 

I silently point to the camera behind the bar. I won’t lie: Watching the emotions cycle through his face wasn’t a little funny. Melody looked wide-eyed as the realization hit her as well. 

“Oh shit, oh my god,”  

“You quite literally helped me install them,” I let out an uncomfortable laugh, “I don’t know how you forgot.” 

He runs both hands over his face before finally asking, “Can we just.. delete that.. ALL of that..please?” His voice is coated in desperation as he keeps looking over at Melody.  

“I’m certainly not going to watch it, Danny.” Relief washes over him as if he really thought I would watch that.  

“Let’s agree to never bring this up.. again.. Ever?” I cock an eyebrow at him, taking a quick glance at Melody as well. She nods aggressively.  

“What are we never bringing up?” Sam’s sing-songy tone radiates through the bar. God damn it. 

Josh’s loud voice followed suit, “Oh, I love a good secret!” Of course, he came with Sam. 

“That is between you guys and Danny,” I put my hands up, “I have cleaning I need to get done.” I look over to Dan, trying not to laugh. The look on his face is screaming that he knows he’s screwed now that Josh is here. Everybody is about to know his little secret. 

“If you need to go for a little bit, do what you need to,” I lean in and whisper to Melody as I pass her. She gives me a thumbs-up and mouths, ‘Thank you,’ as I head down the hall. 

“Goodmorning, brother,” Josh’s voice comes from behind me as I grab some cleaning supplies from our storage closet. 

“I’m surprised you guys got here this early?” 

When I left the apartment, I didn’t think anybody would be moving for quite a while. The few of us in the living room, all sleeping on the makeshift bed we crafted with extra blankets and pillows. Sam dipped at some point in the night to Willa’s bed, what a party pooper. 

“I couldn’t fall back to sleep after you left, and I heard Sam moving around,” he tells me, “We figured you could use some help getting the bar situated after last night anyway.” Reaching out to take the broom and dustpan from me. 

Surprised that they wanted to help, I quickly said, “Oh, well, thanks bub.” Not that they didn’t usually help out if I asked, but it was a bit more dependent on me asking, which I’m candidly not great at doing. 

“So, what exactly needs to be cleaned?” Sam finally caves. 

I smile at him, knowing what he’s trying to do, “Let’s just say we’re taking the opportunity to really make sure everything is clean.” Grabbing a rag and some disinfectant to start wiping everything down. 

“Well,” he instigates further, “I just didn’t know if there was like a specific booth or something.” He unsuccessfully chokes back a laugh.

Josh quickly cut him off, “I’m sure he asked for specifics,” 

I bite my tongue so as not to laugh at the argument that will start. If there’s anything I know, it’s that these two can’t help but start shit with each other. 

“It was just a question, Josh.”

“You’re just picking at him for no reason. He said we’re cleaning everything, so just clean.”

“You know why we’re cleaning. That’s why you’re being defensive,” Sam says, his voice rising as he realizes. 

Josh gasps dramatically, “You DO listen to your girlfriend. Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!” 

“Oh, fuck off,” 

Josh laughed loud: “It doesn’t take much to figure out what happened, Samuel. Just use that little brain of yours for a minute, and maybe you’ll piece it together.” 

I sit in a booth to wipe the table down, just listening to them go back and forth. Josh isn’t wrong.. If he really did just stop to think about it, he would figure it out. Or, literally, just ask Danny. I never said he couldn’t ask him.

“I’m not that stupid, I know that-” Sam starts but immediately stops when he sees Danny walk back in. 

“What are we yelling about?”

“The two of them are bickering about why we’re cleaning,” I say plainly, with my eyebrows raised and a tight-lipped smile. 

His eyes widen, clearing his throat before saying, “Yeah, uh, people were a bit frantic last night trying to get out of here when the storm started, and we also didn’t want to get stuck too long, so we just.. didn’t have time to clean.” He couldn’t be worse at lying, but I think Sam will let it slide because of how uncomfortable he looks right now. 

“Now, why couldn’t you just say that?” Sam turns, looking back over at Josh. Jesus Christ, here we go. 

“Because that’s obviously not the reason, they clearly–” 

“Good morning, Krusty Krew!” Quinn sings through the bar, thank god. 

“Did we interrupt something?” Willa asks through a laugh. 

“Yes, thank you,” I speak before the other two can. 

It’s fun to watch as they both make their way over to their respective partners. Josh and Quinn always seem like they haven’t seen each other in years, even if it’s only been 20 minutes. The way they just curl into each other at any given moment. And then there’s Sam and Willa. Her laugh radiates through a room whenever Sam is around; they constantly pick on each other about something. He presses a kiss to the side of her head before she starts to walk away, but not before he swats at her ass, and she flips him off. She’s a saint for putting up with him. 

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I listened to everyone’s chatter until Josh and Sam started bickering again. I motion to Danny to say that I’m going outside for a minute before grabbing a cigarette from my office. Walking out the back door in the crisp air, I pull out my lighter and try to beat the wind. That first inhale is always the most rewarding. I told myself when I left the shipyard that I would cut back; the guys I worked with were heavy smokers, and it’s easy to fall into that trap. Now, I settle for one a day, and honestly, some days, I don’t bother; I find that when I’m stressed, I tend to go for it, but I’ve stuck to my guns and not gone back to smoking aggressively. 

I walk across the street, finding my usual spot to watch the boats slowly sail out to the ocean. I like to come here when I need a moment. I’m unsure why I’m feeling more anxious today than usual, but my chest feels heavy. Why do I feel so alone?

It’s not that I can’t be alone. I obviously have made it this long without someone; I have just spent the last two years watching everyone close to me find love. I never really feel lonely because they are all part of the family at this point, but I do have days where I can’t help but be almost..jealous. My mind keeps wandering as I take another drag. Is there something I’m doing that just makes me not worthy of dating? I’ve never understood why, out of all the dates I’ve been on in the last handful of years, none of them have worked out. God, I sound so pathetic.   

I enjoy the last moments of my smoke break, forcing myself to focus on the boat coming into the dock. I can’t seem bothered when I go inside, or they’ll notice. 

Finally, making my way back inside, I see Josh and Quinn in one booth and Sam with Willa in another. They don’t seem to notice that I’ve snuck back in, so I just spend some time cleaning up and organizing behind the bar while there’s nobody to actually tend to. 

I start mindlessly wiping down the wine glasses, trying to make them as clean as possible. Josh and Quinn are in my line of sight; it’s hard not to notice how in love they are. Always sitting on the same side of any table, whether it’s a booth or a typical table setting, they’re attached at the hip. They’re always touching. Whether it’s just sitting close enough, one of them can move their leg closer, or right now, where Quinn is just tracing their finger along his jawline and down the bridge of his nose. They lean in, pressing a kiss to his nose before he tugs them in quickly for a real kiss. This is dreadful. I really can’t remember the last time I kissed someone. Am I that touch starved that I’m jealous of my brother? The squeak from the glass reminds me where I am. I shake my head, putting it back in its place and grabbing a new glass. 

I glance over to the other booth; Willa has her head propped up in her hand as she looks at my brother. Even though they instigate each other most often, it’s always with love. She has a soft smile plastered on her face as she nods to whatever he’s saying. Running his hand down her forearm every so often, it’s weird seeing Sam so.. domestic? Willa really is perfect for him, though. I knew the moment she put him in his place while on a date with SOMEONE ELSE. How she looks at him like he’s the greatest thing ever created is incredibly sweet. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can see the way her eyes light up before she calls him ‘babe.’  I put the last glass back in place, tossing the towel under the bar. 

I think I have scrubbed every inch of this bar today, I think to myself, leaning into my hand. The music is lower since there’s nobody here, and everybody is currently preoccupied. I let my mind wander for a minute. 

The feeling of being so excited to see someone that your heart flutters. Being able to just hold someone close. God, getting to kiss them endlessly— nothing is better than that. Feeling them smile at you, ugh. Being so wrapped up in each other, pulling her into your lap so you can just have her as close as possible. Someone to call sweet things and have them call me ‘babe.’ Fuck me. I need a wife. Can I just skip to the being in love part? I don’t want to waste my time on girls who will just leave after a couple of months. I just want to fall helplessly in love and spend every day making sure they feel the same. 

“Jake?” Sam loudly says, waving his hand in front of me. 

My body jumps involuntarily, “For fucks sake.” 

“Good daydream, huh?” Josh teases. I fight the warm feeling creeping into my face, rolling my eyes subtly. 

“What do you guys want?” 

“Will you make us drinks, please?” Josh asks, trying to recover from his taunting. 

“Quinn and Willa too?” I double-check as I’m grabbing glasses. They both nod in sync. 

I kept letting out little sighs, which, to be fair, I didn’t think were that obvious. Turning and setting one of the drinks in front of them, my eyebrows pulled together. 

“Why do you look so angry?” Sam asks. 

“I’m not?” I quip back. Unfortunately, it didn’t come out as convincing as I would have liked. 

“I really think you just need to get laid or something, Jake,” Josh laughs out, “you need someone to take the edge off!” he laughs, nudging Sam with his elbow. You’re telling me. 

“When do I have the time, Josh? Come on,” I can’t help the attitude that comes out, but given the day I’ve had so far— getting harassed for not getting laid is not helping. 

“Honestly, you just seem tense lately,” Sam pipes up, “maybe if you actually flirted with one of the pretty girls who comes in, you could get off once in a while.” Josh barks out a laugh towards Sam, but I see Dan pointing in our direction as I listen to my personal peanut gallery giggle. 

Rolling my eyes at them as they keep egging each other on, “Trust me, I’d love for my wife to walk through those doors, but I don’t see that happening.” 

I turn to finish making drinks for the boys, trying to ignore them, squawking about my lack of sex life. As I set out a few glasses on the counter, I heard a lower, raspy female voice ring behind me, “Could I speak with Mr. Kiszka?” 

I turn around to a petite redhead dressed very professionally. Her button-up was a pale yellow, tucked into some grayish-blue slacks. Her hair curled perfectly, and her dark red lips stood out against her pale complexion.  

“Which one?” we all answer in unison. 

She flips open her folder, looking at whatever papers are in there, and I can’t seem to look away from her. She’s … so hot?  

“Um, Jacob Kiszka, I’m sorry.”

She looks up at me, making direct eye contact. Green. Her eyes are green.  

I manage to muster up the ability to ask, “What do you need from me, dear?” Dear? Am I ninety?  The sounds of my brother’s giggling prevented any level of silence between us. 

“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you randomly, Mr. Kiszka,” she says confidently; her voice is so pretty.“Mr. Kiszka is our father. Please call me Jake,”  I say, trying to lighten the mood as I extend my arm out to shake her hand across the bar. It feels like a small jolt to my heart as her hand firmly grabs mine, and she tells me, “Charlotte Rhodes.”

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Chapter Two

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | Prologue | FDOG Playlist

If you ask nicely, I may be so inclined to drop Chapter 2 sooner than next Thursday .. is all i'm going to say. 🤭

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust, @myleftsockck , @mindastreamofcolours , @dont-go-home-without-me , @literal-dead-leaf , @lizzys-sunflower , @mackalah , @klarxtr , @edgingthedarkness , @writingcold , @i-love-gvf , @takenbythemadness , @ladywhimsymoon , @earthgrlsreasy, @violet-hayes, @gretavanfan , @musicspeaks , @jazzyfigz , @smoking-jakelane , @anythingforjtk

Reply to be added to the taglist or you can fill out this form!

[gretavangroupie]

VIGILANCE MASTERPOST

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Sam x Reader, Jake x OC, Sam x OC

Word Count: Far too many...600k+

Summary:  This story centers on a complex love triangle between three characters who are all entangled in a web of long-standing friendships and unspoken feelings.  The story explores themes of first love, betrayal, family dynamics, and the challenges of navigating romantic relationships within close-knit social circles. Underlying tensions and unresolved conflicts drive the plot, leading to significant events and emotional confrontations. She loves me, she loves me not? Maybe love really is written in the stars.

WARNINGS FOR THIS SERIES: 18+ MINORS DNI - Alcohol, Gambling, Smoking, Marijuana, Cursing, Dramatic Themes, Nightmares. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Mentions of Sub/Dom Themes, Voyeurism, Orgasm Denial, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration, Pet Names, Spanking. Angst Including: Jealousy, Possessiveness, Infidelity, Heartbreak, Toxic Themes, Arguments, Yelling, Extreme Portrayal of Sadness, Crying, Sexual Assault, Stalking, Cheating on Partner, Abandonment, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Loss, Marriage, Hospitalization, Severe Injury, Death, Poor Coping Mechanisms, Slight Alcohol Abuse, Extreme Grief, Fluff.

This story is a collaboration with my lovely pal @gretavanmoon.

Playlist for the Series: Apple Music | Spotify

Chapter List:

one | one revisited

two

three

four

five

six

seven

eight

nine

ten

eleven

twelve

thirteen

fourteen

fifteen

sixteen

seventeen

eighteen

nineteen part one | nineteen part two

twenty

twenty-one part one | twenty-one part two

twenty-two part one | twenty-two part two

twenty-three

twenty-four

twenty-five part one | twenty-five part two

twenty-six

twenty-seven part one | twenty-seven part two

twenty-eight part one | twenty-eight part two

twenty-nine

thirty

epilogue

The Outtakes:

Plan A

Coda

Rekindled

Disruption

Secret Ingredient

Sin City Revisited

[so-sangthearcher]

Rainy Days

Sam x gn!reader

Warnings: None, fluffy :-)

Very short like 500 words

-

You woke to the light sound of rain pattering against the window, the light gray sky coming into view as you shifted to sit up.

Sam was still snoring softly next to you, you smiled as you watched his chest rise and fall.

Rainy days with Sam were always your favorite. Everything seemed slower, gentler. No one was rushing around or hurrying to get anything done. It was nice to take things slow, especially when daring someone in the fast lane.

Sam shifted as he woke, "Are you watching me sleep?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Just a little bit..." you whispered back.

"Creep."

"You love it."

He smiled as he rolled over to meet your eyes, "yeah, I do," he sighed. He turned his head towards the window, eyes lighting up at the sight of rain.

"Perfect day for gardening." He said, smiling spreading across his face. You wrinkled your nose at him.

"Perfect day for mud." You retorted, but you knew he was going to drag you out there anyways.

And he did. After the two of you had finished breakfast, he ushered you out the door, grabbing his tools, not bothering to put on shoes or change out of his sleepwear.

You watched fondly from the porch as he let the rain dampen his hair and his clothes. "C'mon! I need your help," He said smiling, crossing the yard to the garden. You stepped out, letting the feeling of the rain settle over you, you have to admit, it was nice.

you brushed your now wet hair out of your face and crossed to meet Sam in the garden, to which he promptly greeted you with a handful of mud.

You gasped, feeling the cold substance on your skin, "Samuel!"

He smirked at you, "what are you gonna do about it?"

You stepped, trying not to slip on the slick grass, grabbing a handful of mud from the empty planter next you, and launching it at him. Unfortunately for him, it hit him square in the face. You gasped, trying to hold back laughter, "Oh god, babe, I'm so so-"

He cut you off, grabbing a hold of you and wrestling you to the ground, you shrieked as the two of slipped and slid against the ground, effectively covering your bodies in mud. You laughed as you flipped him over, pinning him down, "I win," you said smugly.

Your victory was short lived, because in a matter of seconds, he was flipping you over so your back was on the ground. Your chest heaved as you laughed, trying to dodge the muddy water that dripped from his hair.

"No. I win." He said, before leaning down and planting a kiss on your lips. You tangled your hands in his hair, pushing into his touch.

You sighed as you laid back against the ground, Sam rolling off of you to copy your position, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You laid there next to each other, reveling in the sounds of the rain and each others breath.

Yeah. You loved days like this.

Even though you never ended up gardening.

[stardustbarbarians]

Enchanted

A Daniel Wagner / Samuel Kiszka fic

Summary: Sometimes it takes some meddling to see what is right in front of you.

Tags: fluff, love spell au, very light angst, low-key funny

Words: 10.8 k

Author's Note: Happy (late) Valentine's Day!! I literally got the idea for this one the day of the holiday and proceeded to write this, thinking it would be at max like 2,000 words. So, yeah, this one kinda got away from me. Anyway, this is dedicated to @ofthecaravel for being more enthusiastic about this idea than I was (she also made the cover pic so everyone say thank you, Karou). Title taken from Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Please enjoy!! <3

+++

When Danny had the idea to go to the art fair near his house, he hadn’t thought he’d be walking away with an honest to god love potion. I mean, those aren’t real, right?? It’s all just made up for awful rom-coms and Disney movies. So, when that witchy woman had stopped him and gave it to him for free, he thought nothing of it. 

He had been weaving through the various booths, eyes catching on all the colorful and sometimes gaudy wares these artists were trying to pedal. Some of them were honestly good, others were just clearly trying to make a quick buck. Danny bought a few things; a few jewelry pieces he thought were cute and a fresh squeezed lemonade. 

“Danny?” a woman had spoken up, catching the drummer’s attention. He tensed up at being called out, hoping he wouldn’t be recognized but knowing it was always a possibility every time he left his house. 

Schooling his features to be warm and inviting, Daniel turned on his heel to face the woman. She was what Danny could only describe as a “contemporary witch”, complete with long, black hair and a revealing yet classy black dress and a wide-brimmed black hat. Danny had to suppress his scoff at how on the nose she looked, glancing around her clearly witch-themed, yet populated, booth. But, it clearly worked to help sell her goods, so who was he to judge. 

“Hey!” he responded, abandoning his wandering and making his way over to her. She smiled widely at him, her eyes lighting up as he approached. 

“Oh, my god. My friends are never gonna believe me,” she rushed, her tattooed hands fluttering to her chest. 

“How about we get a picture to prove it to them?” he offered, having gone through this enough times over the years to know that that was what most people were after when they spotted him. 

She nodded, searching frantically for her phone. When she pulled it out from behind the register, Daniel noticed two things. One; her hands were shaking. Two; her lock screen was a picture of him and Sam posed together. It was a picture of them on stage, embracing and beaming at one another and - wow, is that really what he looks like when he smiles at Sam? 

They took their picture, her asking for a hug from him which he happily gave her. 

“So, what brings you over this way?” the woman - ironically named Greta - asked, leaning against the table she had set her register up on. Danny worried for a second as her long hair passed over a candle, only for him to realize it wasn’t real. 

“Had a free afternoon to myself, thought I’d check the art fair out,” he answered honestly, a shrug of his shoulders tacked on at the end. 

She nodded acceptingly. “Find anything interesting?” 

Danny held up his fingers, wiggling them to show off the rings he purchased as well as shook his cup of lemonade in front of her, smiling. She laughed, her head tipping back a bit to show off a moth tattoo that rested under her clavicles. 

“That’s all, huh? You must be pretty picky.” She looked him up and down, her eyes feeling strangely like they were able to see past his physical form. Danny blamed that on the witch-themed booth she ran. 

Danny shrugged again. He didn’t think he was, but then again maybe he was. 

“Here,” she blurted out, jumping up from her perch to brush past him to go deeper into her booth. Daniel watched as she stopped in front of a display of bowls that held vials of various shapes and sizes. Each one was sorted by color, some of them even seeming to glow which made Daniel do a double take. There was probably just a light fixed at the base of the bowl to give them that effect. 

“On the house,” Greta chirped before tossing something at Daniel. He instinctively caught it, letting out a breath of relief that he had. When he got a proper look at it, Danny realized that she had thrown him a vial of baby pink liquid that had been sealed in a teardrop shaped glass vial. The top was a gradient into Barbie pink and formed to a point, sharp enough to probably kill a man. Daniel turned it over in his hand, the liquid sparkling in the light of the sun streaming in through an opening in the tent he was in. 

“What is this?” he dumbly asked, already knowing what the hell it was. 

“A love potion,” Greta flippantly answered. When Danny snapped his head up to look at the woman, he saw the mischievous glint in her eye that never reached her soft smile. 

Daniel coughed on his own spit as he swallowed wrong. He covered it up by taking a few sips of his lemonade. He had no idea how to react to that. 

“Uhh… that’s really kind of you, but I can’t take this.” 

“Nonsense. I insist,” she pressed, waving off his concerns with a wave of her hand. 

Daniel looked back and forth between the woman and the vial in his hand, weighing the pros and cons. Then he realized how ridiculous he was being. It was a kind gesture and love potions weren’t real. 

He tucked the vial into his pocket of his jean jacket and smiled. “Thanks!” 

“My pleasure,” she answered, that devilish gleam back in her eye as well as that feeling that she was seeing through him rather than at him, “and trust me, you will be thanking me later.” 

That made Daniel chuckle a bit nervously. She was starting to creep him out a bit; time to make a quick exit. 

“Right, well. Maybe I’ll see you at one of our upcoming shows!” Danny politely suggested, already backing out the way he had come in. 

“Of course! Talk to you later!” Greta’s last sentence sent a shiver up Danny’s spine. It felt like a promise rather than a send off. 

With one last quick smile, Danny got his ass out of there and trotted down the booths to get away. He definitely wanted to toss that so-called “love potion” away now. There was no telling what was actually in it. He’d just throw it into the next trash can he saw. 

+++

Daniel did not toss it away. Instead, he forgot about it completely and left it in his jacket pocket. It stayed there for a month, silently waiting for the next time someone would wear that jacket and find it. 

“Hey, Dan!” Danny was in his kitchen taking some ibuprofen for the headache he was fighting when he heard Sam call out for him. 

With a big gulp and a gag he didn’t even try to suppress as he felt the pills catch on the side of his throat, Danny responded with a shout of his own. “Yeah?!” 

“Can I borrow a jacket?! It’s cold as balls out and I don’t have one!” 

Setting his empty glass of water in the sink, Daniel ran a hand through his curls. Sam had stopped over at Danny’s before the band’s scheduled studio time so the two of them could carpool. 

“Yeah!” he shouted back. He went through a mental checklist to make sure he had everything he needed before he left, adding Sam to the bottom of that list. 

“What the fuck is this in your pocket?!” Sam called out again, breaking through Danny’s concentration. 

“I don’t know! I’m not over there!” 

It was quiet again for a moment, Danny quickly going through his checklist again as he passed by his laundry room to grab some socks from the pile. 

“Can I drink it?!” 

Daniel, starting to get a little frustrated by Sam’s antics already, huffed out in exasperation. 

“Go ahead!” he screamed harsher than he had meant to. But, really, how the hell was Daniel meant to know what the fuck Sam was talking about. It probably was a shot of fireball or something he never drank. And if Sam wanted to be tipsy while they recorded… Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. 

“It tastes like bubblegum!” Sam excitedly exclaimed, his voice louder as Danny was just around the corner from where he was stationed by the front door. 

“That’s great, buddy,” Daniel dismissed, walking past him briefly as he went to grab his sticks from the living room. Doing the pat down on his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet, Daniel finally rounded the corner to his front door only to see Sam sprawled out on the ground. 

“Sam?” Danny cautiously asked, hoping Sam was just being theatrical over how long Danny was taking to leave. 

But then he didn’t answer. Or move, for that matter. 

“Sammy?!” Daniel was distraught now, tossing his sticks to the side as he kneeled down next to Sam to shake him. 

He still wasn’t stirring, but at least his chest was moving. Daniel frantically searched for a pulse, lifting up his hand to check his wrist. That was when he spotted the nearly empty teardrop shaped vial in Sam’s hand and Danny’s heart sank even further. 

“No no no no-” Danny chanted under his breath, pressing his fingers into Sam’s wrist. His heart rate slowed a bit when he was able to feel Sam’s pulse in his fingertips. He sighed deeply, feeling his shoulders sag in relief. 

“C’mon, Sammy,” Danny implored, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and began to shake him. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to make his head loll around his shoulders. 

When that didn’t work, Danny bit his lip as his brow knit together. He had an idea, but he’d feel awful for going through with it. With another sigh, Daniel resigned himself to it. 

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he murmured, pulling his right hand off the bassist’s shoulder. He reared it back and smacked it smartly against his friend’s cheek. Cringing at how loud the slap resounded in the echo-y chamber of his vestibule, Daniel smoothed his hand back over the pink mark blossoming on Sam’s face. 

It worked, to Danny’s utter relief. 

Sam’s eyes fluttered open as Daniel caressed his fingers across the angry outline of his hand, groaning as he lifted his hand to his forehead. 

“What the hell happened?” Sam grumbled out, sitting up on his own. Danny sat back onto his heels, raking his eyes over Sam to check for any signs of danger. 

“You drank the vial in my jacket and passed out, I guess,” Daniel tried to explain, the concern leaking through his tone. Sam still had yet to look at Danny, his eyes having shut once more as he sat fully upright. 

Huffing out a laugh, Sam looked at the vial in his hand, a drop of that baby pink liquid slipping out of the opening and splattering onto the floor. He turned it over in his fingers a few times before he spoke again. “Hell of a rush.” 

Daniel couldn’t help but snort, his worries easing significantly at the joke. Sam was going to be ok. Maybe a little groggy, but ok. That Greta girl should count herself lucky nothing worse had happened to Sam or else he’d bring down hell around her ears for hurting his best friend. 

“Alright, Sam. Let’s get you up or else we’ll be late for studio time,” Danny grunted out as he hauled Sam up to his feet by his arm. 

“Right, right,” Sam quietly answered, his hair flying out around him as he shook his head to presumably clear it. 

And that was when Sam looked at Danny for the first time since he fell. 

“I’m so fucking in love with you.” 

+++

“Hey, guys, we might want to reschedule.” 

“Yeah? And why is that?” Jake was the first one to look over at Daniel. And when he did, Danny watched as his entire body went rigid as his eyes flew wide open. 

“Something wrong- oh my god.” That was Josh, this time. And just like Jake, Josh’s eyes got comically wide as he took in the sight of Danny and Sam. 

And Daniel really couldn’t blame them. He’d have the same reaction if he saw his little brother clinging onto his best friend as if his life depended on it. 

Sam had long since jumped into Danny’s arms, his arms and legs wrapped around Daniel as if he were a monkey and Daniel his favorite tree. He had refused to get down, Danny having tried to fight him in the parking lot before entering the studio to get him to walk on his own, but Sam was having none of it. Even on the drive over, Sam had tried to climb into Danny’s lap a few times all while gushing about how pretty he thought Danny was. He finally got Sam to stay in his seat after promising to hold his hand as he drove. But as soon as they stepped out of the car, it was no holds barred. 

“What the hell is he doing?” Jake asked, his eyes still locked onto his baby brother’s strange behavior. 

“I’m holding the love of my life!” Sam answered for Daniel. And if Daniel’s face wasn’t burning before, he was certain it was set ablaze by that. And the worst part was Daniel could tell Sam was using a genuine tone. 

He watched the twins look between the two rhythm section members, their lips pursing as they took in the sight. Daniel wanted to hide his face in his hands, but they were currently holding his obnoxious best friend so he couldn’t. 

“Oooooooooo-k. Umm, what the fuck is going on?” Josh had abandoned his station at his microphone, setting the equipment down on a chair to his left before he joined Jake at his side. 

Danny sighed, his eyes closing in shame. He wanted to look everywhere else but at the twins and their calculating and bewildered gazes. 

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” Daniel let out a squeak after he spoke, Sam surprising him with kisses he placed on the side of Danny’s neck where his head was nuzzled. He tried to pull away, but Sam just chased after him with his lips. 

“Try us,” Josh answered, his arms crossing over his chest as his hip popped out. Jake was idly fiddling with his guitar, probably not even aware that he was playing at all, but his eyes never left Danny. 

With a deep sigh, Daniel launched into the story of Greta and her stupid fucking love potion. While he was explaining, he knew his story sounded made up. I mean, for god’s sake, the titular character shared the name of their band. It just sounded like he was caught in a lie. The only thing he knew would work in his favor was the potion vial that he had the foresight of bringing with him. 

It was a fight, but Daniel was able to wrangle Sam off of him and set his feet on the floor. However, the man still refused to let go of him completely. So Daniel had to live with Sam resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around Danny’s torso. With his hands finally free, Daniel was able to fish that vial out of his pocket and toss it over to the twins. 

Josh caught it, Jake watching it sail over towards his twin with his eyes. Daniel watched as they inspected it, the baby pink liquid still shimmering in the light. He pointedly ignored Sam and his embarrassing antics. Or, at least he tried to. It was very hard when he kept peppering kisses all over Danny’s cheek and neck as he spoke sweet nothings into his ear. Danny felt shivers dance their way across his skin, his veins warming at all the contact and compliments. But he refused to indulge in them. Sam was not himself right now and he would be damned if he was going to take advantage of him. But, they still felt nice. 

After a few seconds of turning over the evil liquid, Josh tossed it back over to Daniel. 

“Alright,” Jake started, pulling the cord out of his guitar, “we believe you.” 

“Really?” Danny was truly bewildered. He thought the twins were going to think it was some kind of stupid prank they were trying to pull on them. He was actually relieved they did. 

“Yeah. We’ve never seen Sam act this way before. Plus he’s a dog shit actor,” Josh answered, a laugh escaping his lips after the last sentence. Danny had to agree; he’d seen the movies Josh had made where Sam was the lead. There weren’t that many. 

“Oh, thank god. Because I need help.” Daniel’s tone was desperate, his hands trying to pull Sam’s off his waist. But every time he tried, Sam would just slide them back into place. He eventually gave up, huffing in resignation as Sam giggled in his ear. “Yeah, I’m gonna be honest with you on this one. I don’t know where we’ll even start,” Jake bluntly pointed out, placing his guitar on its stand. 

“What if you two try to contact the people who organized the fair and see if you can find the woman who sold me the…” God help him, “...the potion.” 

“Yeah, alright. What are you going to do?” Josh was already pulling out his phone, not looking at Danny as he spoke. 

“I’m going to see if maybe she posted that picture and contact her that way,” Daniel explained, having to shove Sam’s hips away from his own in order to get his phone from his back pocket. 

“Sounds like a plan. But how about we don’t do this here,” Jake posited, his eyes sliding over to where their producer and mixer were watching raptly as Sammy placed yet another series of kisses onto Danny. 

They all agreed. They wanted to spare both men as much embarrassment as possible and also minimize the possibility of this leaking and sending the wrong message to their fan base. 

Daniel offered up his house considering it was the closest. 

“And I’ll drive lovebug here, too.” Danny hooked his thumb towards where Sammy’s face was pressed into the side of Danny’s, a dopey smile on his face as he nuzzled deeper into Danny. 

“I don’t think you have a choice,” Josh so helpfully pointed out, trying poorly to suppress a laugh. 

“Yeah, ha ha. Let’s go,” Daniel sharply ordered, trying once more to rip Sam’s arms off of him and failing. 

“No, no, wait. Let us get one video for blackmail,” Jake quickly requested, already having his phone out and pointed at the two. 

Danny, knowing that there was no way they’d relent, groaned and let Jake record his misery. 

“Alright, Sammy. Tell us how you feel about Daniel,” Jake prompted, the laugh in his voice barely contained. The youngest perked up at the question, his smile getting brighter. 

“Well, where do I even begin! There’s so much I feel about him,” Sam cooed, resting his chin against Danny’s shoulder as he spoke. Danny felt Sam’s hair slip off his own shoulder as Sam tilted his head to get a better look at Danny. 

“Why don’t you start with the physical,” Josh, that bastard, piped up. Danny shot him a glare, Josh only responding with an “innocent” smile. 

“Oh! That’s easy! He’s got these beautiful dark eyes that you can easily get lost in. They’re this gorgeous shade of amber brown that have this nice green in them that remind me of moss in the forest. Oh! And when they catch the light just right they’re so bright and I get butterflies. And speaking of butterflies, when he smiles at me I can’t help but feel like I’m going to pass out from how beautifully warm and overwhelming it is-” 

“Alright,” Danny squeaked out, his voice cracking as his face began to heat up, “that’s enough.” 

“No, no, we’re just getting to the good part. Sam, what else about Danny do you like?” Danny bared his teeth at Jake. He knew it was ineffective, what, with his face burning as bright as a stop light. 

“Oh, his arms are really nice. I love it when he picks me up because then I can feel them flexing and it makes me all dizzy.” Sam’s voice was dripping in honey. It was so sweet it made Danny’s stomach ache. 

“Really? And what about his freckles?” 

“One of his best features, definitely. They get all dark and prominent in the summer when he gets more sun. He’s got 137 of them!” 

“Alright that’s-” 

“And what about Danny’s personality?” 

“He’s the sweetest guy ever! I swear, he’s so sweet he gives me cavities. Like this one time, I was feeling really down in the dumps and then Danny went out of his way to get me a case of my favorite beer and made me laugh so hard I nearly pissed myself. He just knows me sooooo well. And also he takes care of Rose the best and he is always so gentle and loving with her… what isn’t there to love?” 

“Ok, show’s over. We’re done here,” Daniel firmly decided, reaching out to yank Jake’s phone away from him and end the recording, holding it out of Jake’s reach as he tried to grab it back from him. 

Danny tossed it back at him when he was done, watching the guitarist nearly fumble the device to the ground. He shot Danny a confused look at his shift in mood, but he didn’t respond. He simply held onto Sam’s arms as he turned the two of them around and made for the door. 

As they walked to the car, Daniel pointedly did not think about the fact that Sam apparently just seemed to know how many freckles Danny had off the top of his head. Or how that made his heart flutter within his chest. 

+++

The car ride back was considerably less dangerous than the drive over; Sam hadn’t tried to climb into Danny’s lap since he preemptively laced their fingers together. However, Sammy hadn’t stopped talking. And it wasn’t his usual babbling, no. It was much worse. 

“I love you.” 

“I know.” 

“I love you.” 

“I know.” The shock of it had worn off at the thirtieth time Sammy had confessed it to Danny, that first time making the drummer jump out of his skin. Now it was just getting annoying, like the beep of a smoke detector. 

“You’re really hot,” Sam giggled, leaning his head across the consul and bumping it into Danny’s shoulder. 

Danny just groaned, throwing his head into the headrest behind him and asking god what he did wrong to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment. It was one thing to toy with his destiny, it was another entirely to play around with his emotions. 

“I hope we fucking crash,” he whined, the light turning green and taking his foot off the brake. 

“I hope we fuck.” 

Daniel felt his foot involuntarily slam down on the gas, forcing the both of them to jerk back in their seats as the engine loudly revved like an animal letting out a warning growl. Danny whipped his head over to Sam briefly, taking in his lashes batting flirtatiously and his wolfish grin. The driver felt his heart pounding in his chest, ripping his eyes away from his distracting passenger and forcing himself to look at the road. 

“What?” he croaked out, not really wanting to hear it again but also wanting to know if he heard Sam right. 

“You heard me,” was all Sam spoke in response, a dangerously flirtatious edge to his words that made Danny’s heart lurch in his chest. 

“Just… Just keep those thoughts to yourself, ok?” 

“Ok!” Sam cheerfully agreed, settling back down onto Danny’s shoulder. That was another thing about this that was driving Daniel slowly insane: Sam did almost everything Danny asked of him. 

He was so, utterly fucked. 

+++

“Ok, so Greta must be a popular name among artists or something because the fair organizer said there were about thirty booths registered under that name,” Jake explained after hanging up the phone. He tapped his pen on the pad of paper he’d been writing on idly, turned towards Danny’s spot on his couch. Sammy had tackled him onto it, curling up right against his chest like an oversized dog and refused to move. 

“Did she give you the list of businesses, too?” Danny asked, having to crane his neck to look over at Jake. 

“Yeah, and I was able to cross off a few of them already,” Jake answered, swiping away at his phone again.

“Nice work,” Danny praised, his eyes darting back to his phone. He and Josh had taken on scrolling through Danny’s instagram mentions in order to try and find the famed Greta. And, Jesus, people really loved tagging him in shit. They had been at it for hours and were still only finding posts from about two weeks ago. 

“Is this her?” Josh hoisted his phone up into Danny’s field of view. Danny squinted as he analyzed the woman’s face. 

“No,” he groaned, his frustration mounting as they had zero luck. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sam like this, it was just… It was too much. Yeah, maybe Danny had been dreaming about this exact scenario for years, but this wasn’t how he wanted to get it. He’d felt guilt slam into him with every touch Sam bestowed upon him as he remembered that Sam wasn’t in control of his actions. It was that stupid fucking potion that was making Sam all cuddly and cute; the normal Sam would never do that. The normal Sam wouldn’t repeatedly confess his love for Danny in a myriad of ways, or kiss his neck and cheeks, or cling to him every second of the day. No matter how badly Danny wanted it to be true, Sam just wasn’t in love with Danny like the drummer was in love with the bassist. 

And that was the time that Sam decided to stir just enough to burrow deeper into his embrace with Daniel, grumbling something under his breath that was reminiscent of a cat purring. And just like it never happened, Sam fell back asleep again. Danny watched for a bit too long as Sam’s chest rose and fell with each even breath he took, his face held in a content smile as he dreamed away. 

“Man, I haven’t seen him curled up with someone like that since we were kids,” Josh commented, taking a break from his endless scrolling to crack his neck and stretch. He had watched the whole thing, Sam’s stirring and Daniel’s flush creeping onto his face as he gazed down at the cozy bass player. 

“What do you mean?” Danny had moved his own phone out of the way to properly look at Josh. The man had taken to sitting on the floor with his back against the couch that Sam and Danny were laying on. 

“The last time he looked that content while sleeping was probably when he was about eight-ish; that was when he stopped taking naps with mom,” the singer explained, his eyes cast upwards as if searching the farthest reaches of his mind. 

“What, are you calling me his mother?” Daniel felt his face pinch into one of disgust as he remembered what Sam had sprung on him during the ride over. 

“No, what he’s saying is Sam has always liked to cuddle, but only feels comfortable doing it with certain people,” Jake clarified, not even bothering to look up from his notepad. 

“Yeah, he’s never done that with us. And, now that I think about it, he’s never done that with his girlfriends, either. At least, from what I’ve seen, anyway,” Josh added, rambling just a tad at the end. He even brought his hand up to his chin as he thought, his fingers stroking the hair on it absently. 

Daniel had no idea what to do with that particular bit of information, so he elected to shove it into his mental box labeled “The Sam Incident” to be ignored until further notice. It was starting to become alarmingly full. 

He went back to his scrolling, his eyes beginning to burn with how long he’d been staring at the screen. He wasn’t aware that he’d taken to running his fingers through Sam’s hair and absently playing with it as he focused on finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. 

Right when he was about to take a break and grab something to eat, he spotted her. 

“AHA!” he exclaimed, bolting upright and rudely jolting Sam out of his peaceful slumber. The bassist even grumbled, rubbing at his eyes and shooting a grumpy look at his personal pillow for the violent awakening. Danny felt the sympathy ache in his chest for Sam, rubbing a soothing and apologetic hand over Sam’s arm. Though, with how frizzy and staticky his hair looked, Daniel had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at Sam. 

“You found her?” the twins asked simultaneously, Danny feeling briefly like he was in The Shining as they both gave him the same expression as he looked between them. 

Daniel nodded his head, turning his phone around to show the others. Sam took the opportunity to sleepily and unceremoniously flop himself down against the drummer’s chest face first, wrapping his arms around his waist. Danny instinctively placed his hand onto his back to steady him, rubbing it as Sam mumbled something into his chest that Danny could not understand. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Jake, ever the impatient one, urged Daniel. He pushed away from the table he was stationed at, making his way over to lean over the back of the couch to watch the drummer’s screen. 

danielrwagner: Hey, so uhhh

danielrwagner: This is going to be a strange question but

danielrwagner: Are you the woman who gave me a vial at an art show a month or so back? 

Daniel had set his phone down onto the couch, figuring he’d have to wait a while for a response - if he ever got one, that is. What he didn’t expect was for his phone to buzz almost immediately afterwards. 

StarshineGreta: Hi Danny!

StarshineGreta: Yes, that was me

StarshineGreta: Why did someone drink it? 

danielrwagner: Yeah

StarshineGreta: Who was it?

Daniel swallowed nervously, glancing down at Sammy who was still wedged into his chest and showing no signs that he was moving anytime soon. 

danielrwagner: …Sam

Call from StarshineGreta 

“Guys, what should I do?” Daniel panicked, his heart rate kicking up in speed inside his chest as his ringtone started to cheerfully chirp in his hand. He frantically looked back and forth between the twins, looking for their help. 

“Answer it!” Josh screeched, his thunderous voice that Daniel normally heard echoing through stadium speakers just as loud and commanding in his living room. 

With a nervous bite of his lip, Danny did as he was told. 

“Hey, Greta. Just so you know, you're on speaker with… with the whole band,” Daniel greeted, making sure to give her the courtesy of knowing that everyone could hear her. But, it seemed that she didn’t even register what he had said. Instead, she launched right into it. 

“Alright, how long ago did he drink it and what are his symptoms?” Her voice was nearly clinical if it weren’t for the clear enthusiasm dripping off her words. 

“He drank it at about ten this morning-” 

“And he’s acting like a lovesick puppy and won’t leave Daniel alone,” Josh interjected, leaning over so that he was closer to the phone to be heard. Though that wasn’t really necessary since the man had shouted, anyway. 

“Yeah, Sam won’t stop touching and cuddling him and if he tells him to quit it he gets all mopey and sad,” Jake added, flashing Danny a grin that Daniel merely glared at. She really didn’t need to know all that. 

The beat of silence that followed made Danny’s nerves spike into the stratosphere. What he didn’t know was that Greta had merely muted her own mic so that she could laugh as boisterously as she wanted to without being heard. 

“Interesting. And how much did he drink?” 

“Pretty much the whole thing. There’s about an eighth or so left in the bottle, I’d guess,” Daniel informed, feeling as if the vial in his pocket got heavier as he thought about it. 

“Wow. Ok, wow. No wonder he’s so clingy,” Greta replied, her surprise seeping into her tone. 

“I wouldn’t call him that-” 

“Dan. Try standing up.” 

Giving Jake a disgruntled look, Daniel tried exactly as suggested. As he did, Sam’s arms tightened around Sam and pulled him back down towards him. “Nooooooooo,” he had whined out in protest, his brow knitting together in a grumpy frown once more as he looked up at Danny through his lashes. 

“No,” he said again, this time more firm and accented by Sam’s grip readjusting around Danny’s ribs to pull himself even tighter against Danny’s chest. 

When Daniel looked over at the younger twin, he was met with a small yet smug smile of victory. 

“Shut up,” he lamely shot back, wanting to cross his arms over his chest but being prevented by a certain bass player. Instead, he just settled his free arm back onto Sam’s back right below where his hair stopped in the middle of his spine. 

“Is it a problem that he drank so much?” Josh asked, completely ignoring the exchange that happened between Jake and Daniel. 

“Not really, no. The effects will just be stronger than if he had just drank the recommended amount,” Greta explained. 

“Will it last longer?” Daniel quickly interjected, the horrifying thought of having to deal with Sam acting like this for a month causing panic to lance through his heart. 

“I don’t think so. Maybe a few extra hours, but it should be worn off by tomorrow evening.” 

“And how come your potion actually works? Like, why isn’t yours bullshit like the other ‘love potions’ out there?” Jake so delicately questioned. 

“Normally, most of mine are but… well…” Daniel did not like how her tone shifted from confident to apprehensive, “I won’t sugar coat it. The potions I make are meant to amplify what emotions are already inside someone. They can’t manufacture love or hate or happiness if they don’t already exist in the person who drank it.” 

After she finished her explanation, the room went silent. Daniel felt as if his mind was beginning to overheat inside his skull as he tried to process the information she had just dropped onto them. 

“I don’t get it,” Daniel croaked out, feeling as if his mind was halting all function as he stared blankly down at his phone. 

“Do you have that potion on you?” Greta’s voice wasn’t scheming, per say, but it was clear she had a plan. 

Daniel dug into his front pocket, fishing out the aforementioned vial. He held it up into the air, looking at it and wondering how something so unassuming could flip his world on its axis. 

Before the drummer could even respond to Greta, Jake had swiped it out of his hand so quickly Danny could only blink dumbly at the man. 

“Josh!” he called before tossing it towards the man. 

“Wait-” was all Daniel could get out before the singer had uncapped the vial and tossed it back like it was a shot. 

“Ooh, bubblegum flavored,” Josh cooed after he swallowed, flipping the vial in his hand after he replaced the cap. 

Daniel just sat frozen in place. Great, now he was going to have to deal with two Kiszkas attached to his hip at all times and he wasn’t going to be able to do anything-

“How ya feeling, Josh?” Jake had asked in a voice reminiscent of a gameshow host from the 70s. 

“Honestly, Jake, I feel no different. Daniel, I love you, man, but not like that,” Josh answered, pointing at his little brother curled up into Danny’s chest like an overgrown cat to prove his point. 

“So, that means…” Jake prompted, holding out his hand as if to cue Daniel to understand. It didn’t work. 

“I still don’t get it. And now I’ll have two of you on top of me-” 

“Oh my god,” Josh impatiently groaned, tossing his head back in frustration as he scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“Jesus, you’re dumb, Dan,” Jake added, exasperation of his own causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. 

“I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually,” Greta optimistically offered, her voice cutting through the groaning from the twins. 

“But, wait, what should I do? Is there anything I can do to help Sam? Or, like, cure him?” Danny inquired, electing to ignore the twins and their antics. 

“You’re just going to have to wait it out,” Greta answered, her voice not even remotely sympathetic to Danny’s plight. 

“Thanks for the insight, Greta.” Jake leaned in towards the phone again, giving it a two fingered salute. 

“Yeah, and thank you for the free blackmail!” Josh was smiling as he waved at the phone, his tone chipper and not at all matching the devious words he spoke. 

“Any time, boys!” 

And with that, the call had ended. 

“Well, we best get going,” Josh sighed as he got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Yep. Seems like you and Sam need some time to yourselves.” Jake had playfully nudged his baby brother on the shoulder with his hand, Sam only responding with a half-hearted grunt of annoyance at being jostled. 

“Wait, hold on-” 

“Goodbye, lovebirds!” 

With a slam of the door that carried with it a sense of finality, Daniel was left alone with a love-drugged Sam. In his house. Alone. 

“I thought they’d never leave,” Sam yawned, mimicking his older brother from earlier as he stretched his arms above his head, his face pinching together as he did so. Daniel pointedly did not look at the sliver of tan skin the bassist exposed above his waistband as he stretched, a playful teasing of his happy trail poking out briefly. 

“Uh, what?” 

“The twins! I thought they wouldn’t take the hint,” Sam playfully implied, his hands tracing up from their perch on Daniel’s stomach to his pecs. And that was when he realized that Sammy was straddling his hips and looming above him with a look in his eye and a smirk on his lips that was anything but innocent. 

Danny was stuck in his position on the couch, feeling like those butterflies they displayed in glass with those pins that pierced through their wings stabbing through his own limbs. He felt frozen, caught between his own animalistic desire and his morality; the angel and devil on his shoulders waging a war. 

“Are you hungry?” Daniel squeaked out, his voice breaking as he shoved Sam off of him and bolted off the couch. He felt like his face was on fire as the rest of his skin prickled with its own heat. He stood himself on the opposite side of the room, all but pressing his back to the wall. He didn’t care what that witch or the twins said; Sammy would never do that. 

He’s not himself. 

Once Sam recovered from Danny tossing him into the couch, Sam turned those sultry eyes back onto the drummer. “Yeah. For you.” 

Daniel gulped. Sam’s voice had purred out of his lips, matching the very clear bedroom eyes he was shooting Daniel. And Danny was not liking how his body was reacting to that. 

“I’ll order sushi,” Daniel quickly stated before bolting out of the room and away from Sam as fast as he could. 

+++ 

Dinner was an ordeal. Daniel had to essentially manipulate Sammy into eating, which made him feel like garbage. But, he tried to reassure himself by saying it was for Sam’s own good. And if Danny had to use his powers of suggestion over Sam to do it, then it was just a means to an end. To be fair, it wasn’t like he was forcing Sam to do something like make out with Danny or anything like that. It was just getting him to eat his goddamn sushi. 

It also didn’t help that Sam had scooched his chair right up beside Danny’s and would move closer to him each time Danny had tried to move away. And then Sam had tried to feed Danny his food. Which was… an experience. 

“C’moooooooooon Danny! It’ll be cute like Lady and the Tramp!” Sam whined, waving his chopsticks in the air. 

Daniel, knowing his willpower against Sam was weakening, relented. He huffed out a “fine” and half-heartedly opened his mouth. Sam squealed excitedly before gently picking up a roll with his chopsticks and placing it between Danny’s lips. Daniel figured the pain of Sam’s nagging was worth the pleasure of seeing his brilliantly excited smile as Daniel chewed his sushi. 

“Ok, ok, now me!” Sam exclaimed, setting down his chopsticks before opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue like he was about to get his tonsils checked. 

With an exasperated yet fond sigh, Daniel selected a sushi roll and brought it up to Sam, cupping a hand underneath it to catch it if it fell. As he placed the sushi on Sam’s tongue, Daniel made the mistake of looking his friend in the eyes. When he did, his breath hitched inside his throat. Daniel could feel as the air around them crackled with a charged energy that sparked to life as their gazes met. And Daniel felt himself unable to tear his eyes away from Sam as he slowly pulled his chopsticks away.

When Sam slipped the food into his mouth and began to chew, that was when Daniel was able to look away. 

That was a few hours ago. The two of them were once again cuddled up on Danny’s couch, Sam trying his absolute best to get every part of his body touching every part of Daniel’s. They had thrown on a crime procedural show; Bones or Law & Order, Daniel didn’t know. He was far too distracted by how Sam kept attempting to get Danny to kiss him or let him blow him or an assortment of other things that made his face glow bright red. 

He’s not in his right mind, Daniel had to keep reminding himself. And he would not break to love-drugged Sam no matter how many times he would flash Danny those puppy eyes that would normally make him fold like a house of cards under a slight breeze. 

“Daaaaaaaanyyyyyyyyyy,” Sam sang, wiggling himself onto Danny’s lap in order to plant himself right in front of Daniel’s field of view. He would no longer be ignored, despite the fact that Sam had always had Danny’s full attention; he just was acting as though he hadn’t. 

“Sam, I’m trying to watch this,” Daniel weakly protested. He had no idea what the plot of the episode was, much less the actual name of the show. 

“Watch me instead,” Sam whined, his shoulders slouching as he theatrically threw his head back in frustration, “you’ve been ignoring me all day.” 

“That’s not true-” 

“It’s like you don’t love me.” And that was what finally caused Daniel to break his facade. He looked Sam right in the eyes, taking in the pout of his lips and the dejected nature of his eyes. Daniel isn’t ashamed to admit that he felt his chest ache at the sight. There was genuine heartbreak in Sammy’s eyes that did nothing to quell the guilt that had been thrumming through Daniel’s veins all day. 

Sam could not have been further from the truth, really. Daniel did love Sam. Like, embarrassingly so. He felt it swelling in his chest every second that he spent with Sam, even when he wasn’t with him. Actually, that was when he felt it the most, when Sam wasn’t with him. Those were the moments when he found himself wishing for the man to be near, feeling his heart long for his calming and wonderful presence. 

But, he knew Sam didn’t feel that way about Daniel. Danny knew Sam the best out of everyone on earth; he’d be able to tell who Sam was in love with. It wasn’t Daniel. 

“That-That’s not…” Danny didn’t know how to answer that. He really didn’t. He had no idea if Sam would remember anything from this after the potion wore off. He really did not want to risk the most precious thing in his life. 

Instead, Daniel just gently lowered Sam’s head down into the crook of his neck, wrapping his arms around Sam in order to pull him as tightly against his chest as he could. If he couldn’t say it, he’d show it. 

Sam calmed down after that, apparently perfectly content to just exist inside of Danny’s personal space. It wasn’t long after that Daniel felt drowsiness creep up on him. Despite not doing much moving around considering the human ball and chain known as Samuel Kiszka was attached to him all day prevented that, he was still exhausted. Emotionally, that is. Who knew having the love of your life falsely confessing his love for you would be so draining? Danny sure didn’t. 

“Alright,” Danny yawned, reaching for the remote to turn off the tv, “time for bed.” 

“Carry me,” Sam murmured, already half asleep against Danny. 

“Sam…” Daniel protested with a sigh, knowing that he was going to anyway but hoping Sam would change his mind. 

“Please, baby,” the bassist whined, moving his head so that one eye poked out from his curtain of hair to give Danny that wretched Puppy Look. 

Like the whipped man that he was, Danny just sighed as his shoulders sagged in defeat. After shuffling around Sam’s limbs to better fit around Danny as he stood, Daniel walked the two of them up to his bedroom. Danny decidedly did not think about what this would look like to an outsider. 

“When did you get so heavy,” Danny grunted halfway up the stairs. 

“It’s not nice to comment on a lady’s weight,” Sam shot back, his face still completely nuzzled into Danny’s neck. The breath of his words made Daniel have to suppress a shiver. 

“Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady.” 

Sam giggled, the vibrant and gorgeous sound making Danny’s heart soar. 

Jesus, he was so doomed. 

+++

It had taken some master level bargaining on Daniel’s part, but he was able to convince Sam to leave him alone long enough so that they could each finish their nighttime routines. Daniel had just loaned Sam a pair of his sleep shorts and a shirt to use as pajamas; the shorts were just a bit too big on Sam and caused the waistband to sit dangerously low on his hips. Daniel found himself having to force his eyes to focus on anything other than that sliver of skin on Sam’s abdomen, which was an incredibly hard task. 

Daniel was far from surprised when Sam had climbed into the bed next to him and proceeded to wrap all of his limbs around Danny. It was like the man had managed to find the exact places where he would fit perfectly against Danny like he was meant to be there. Frankly, it was driving Daniel mad. 

“Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?” Sam hummed directly into the drummer’s ear, able to feel the vibrations in his best friend’s chest that was pressed into his side. 

The question made Danny sigh. He knew what would happen if he said no. 

“You’re going to keep going until I snap or give in, won’t you?” Daniel addressed the ceiling, unsure if he was speaking to Sam or god at this point. 

“Yep,” Sam replied, popping the P in the word. Daniel could hear the mischievous smile in his words. 

Now, it was just a matter of weighing Daniel’s conscience against his desire to get some goddamn rest. And, well, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to kiss Sam. But, once again, not like this. But… well, it wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before. It happened a few years ago when they were both drunk; the both of them had laughed it off afterwards, but neither of them spoke of it again. Danny was sure that if he had explained to Sam that he was only doing it to get him to relent so that he could sleep, Sam would understand. Hell, this would be far from the first time Danny had done something Sam had asked of him to get him to shut up so he could sleep. 

“Fine,” Daniel had begrudgingly agreed, the word sighed out. But, before he could tell Sam that he was only going to get a quick peck and nothing else, Sam had pounced. 

Danny’s cries of protest had been drowned out by the press of Sam’s unfairly soft lips, his facial hair not an unpleasant bristle against his skin. But, no matter how good it felt, Danny couldn’t allow this to continue. There was just one small problem: Sam had managed to snake his hands from where they had wrapped around Danny’s torso to his head. He felt those lithe fingers weave their way into his curls, locking him in place like a boa constrictor did with their prey. No matter how… how hot that was, Daniel was the one in his right mind. He was the one responsible for his own action, so that meant he had to… to… oh, dear lord, Sam’s tongue was soft; feeling like the finest velvet money could buy. It beckoned Daniel’s own tongue, gently pleading with it to slip inside Sam’s mouth. And, truly, who was Danny to argue? And, god forgive him, Sam’s mouth was so warm and inviting, it should be a sin. 

Daniel blames his fixation on Sam’s mouth for the reason he failed to notice just how long their kiss had lasted. What finally broke him out of his trance was when Sam’s thigh slipped its way between Daniel’s own, brushing against his interested dick and pulling a surprised yelp from his lips. 

Fighting against Sam’s, admittedly strong, grip on his hair, Daniel pulled away from Sam. He made sure to physically push away Sam’s thigh from its spot between Danny’s legs, knowing that should have been his first act. He was out of breath; another indicator for just how he had failed to be responsible. And looking into Sam’s confused and hurt eyes did nothing to help the guilt mushrooming within his chest. 

“You’ll thank me later,” Daniel explained, even sounding out of breath as he tried to put as much distance between himself and Sam as the love-drugged man would allow. Or you’ll hate me later. 

“But what about here and now?” Sam whined, closing the precious distance Danny had built up. 

“You got what you wanted-” and fucking then some, “-just go to sleep.” 

“Daaaaaaaan-”

“Go to sleep, Sam.” Daniel snapped, immediately regretting his tone as soon as he saw the genuine hurt in those amber eyes. 

With a scowl, Sam settled down into the sheets. What hurt the most, though, was when Sam had retracted all of his limbs from where they intertwined with Daniel’s, flipping on his side to face away from his best friend. Despite having wished for it all day, Danny had no idea it would hurt so fucking much. 

Even though he wanted to so fucking badly, Daniel did not reconcile the situation. It was for the best, he had to tell himself. This way, Daniel would be able to actually sleep and Sam wouldn’t be as weirded out towards Danny when he inevitably snapped out of this spell. 

It was for the best. 

Then why does it feel so wrong? 

+++

Daniel had gotten no sleep. 

Despite how much he tried, it seemed that every time he closed his eyes he was met by the image of Sammy’s disappointed face. He knew, deep down, that it was the right thing for him to do, to push Sam away like that. But that really was a thin comfort when the hurt in Sam’s eyes before he disentangled himself from Danny was still playing on loop in his head. Isn’t that what he had been trying to avoid this whole time? Hurting Sam? And, somehow, he had managed to do just that. It was frustrating and exhausting and Danny just wanted to get some fucking sleep. 

Through the night, however, Sam had managed to intertwine himself once more with Danny. It felt like a hollow victory. And when he eventually, slowly, woke up, Sam had seemed to be completely over their spat from the night prior. 

He had simply stretched his arms over his head, his hair a mess of tangles and static, and asked Daniel about breakfast. How Danny had wished that he could just brush off what happened the night prior. 

The rest of the day had happened much like the day before; Sam refusing to let Danny stray too far from his touch. It had been inconvenient as Danny tried to go about his day with another person attached to him at the hip. However, he was able to adapt by lunch time. Sammy was still whispering things in his ear that made his blood simmer in his veins and did nothing to suppress his guilt at what images and scenarios his brain supplied him with. 

Daniel had resigned himself to the fact that his day now would revolve around Sam entirely. He had wanted to go to the grocery store to restock his fridge that was becoming barren, but he knew there was the possibility that someone would recognize the two of them and their… compromising position. 

So, instead of going out and being productive like he had wanted to, he sequestered the two of them to his house. They settled on a Harry Potter marathon, Daniel once again unable to focus on the screen whatsoever with Sam pawing at him continuously. Daniel had ordered food and plopped the two of them on the couch. 

By the fourth movie, Sam had fallen asleep in Danny’s lap. Daniel, now with those doe eyes off of him, felt that he was finally able to end his guise of watching the screen. It had reached the late afternoon, that golden light sun streaming in through the windows of his living room and highlighting the lazy dust mites floating in the air. Most devastatingly, however, was how that sun had focused on Sammy’s profile. The man looked angelic, ethereal in a way that should not be feasible for a mortal. His hair glowed a golden hue, making it look like a halo was crowned onto his head. It made Danny’s heart ache within his chest. 

Daniel had been so distracted by how gorgeous his best friend looked that he failed to really notice that Sammy was beginning to wake up. 

“Daniel?” Sam’s voice was gravelly again. Danny felt his eyes focus on Sam’s, snapping him back into his own mind. 

“Sam?” 

“Wh… What happened?” Sam had lifted himself off of Danny’s chest, sliding a hand from where it rested on the small of Danny’s back to grab at his head. He blinked rapidly, sweeping his eyes around the room as if it was foreign to him with a grimace on his face. 

“How much do you remember?” 

There was a pause before Sam responded, his eyes sliding their focus in on Danny’s. “Remember? Dan, I’m not missing any time.” 

And if that didn’t make Daniel’s blood run cold. 

“So… So…” Danny couldn’t spit it out. No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t say that Sam knew everything. That would make it real. 

“So… what happened?” Sam prompted again, seeming to be more lucid with each passing second. 

Danny involuntarily gulped, feeling a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t that hard to say what happened; he already told the twins. So why the hell was it so difficult to look Sam in the eye. 

“You… You remember that vial from my jacket that you drank?” 

“Mhm, tasted like bubblegum.” 

“...Yeah. Well, that uhh…” 

Oh, for fucks sake! Just say it! 

“It was a love potion,” Daniel rushed out, the words all mushing together to sound like one long word. 

Another beat of silence passed between the two, Sam staring down at Daniel from his perch in his lap and Daniel looking everywhere he could that wasn’t Sam’s eyes. He really wished Sam would move, it would at least help the raging blush on his cheeks. At least slightly. 

“Oh, sick!!” 

Finally, Daniel looked Sam in the eye. Of all the ways he had forecasted that Sam would react to that information, enthusiasm and whimsy was not even on the list. He had expected Sam to get awkward, to politely remove himself from Danny’s touch and make an exit as quickly as possible. He had far from expected Sam to link his hands behind Danny’s neck and eagerly inquire about the potion. 

“Dude, that’s so cool! You know what this means, don’t you??” 

“...No?” 

“Magic is real! And we just proved it!!” Sam’s smile was huge, bright enough to outshine the sun. 

“Sam-” 

“So, like, how does it actually work? Like, I remember that conversation we had with the witch about it only affecting those who already are in love, or whatever, but did she say the actual mechanics of how it worked? Like, is there a special ingredient that it needs to work?” Sam reminded Danny of a puppy in that moment. His eyes were bright and full of enthusiasm, his entire body buzzing with an energy that made it impossible for him to sit still. 

This time, it was Daniel who failed to give a timely response. His mind was too busy reeling over what Sam had glossed over during his rambling to properly process the man’s question. Realizing that the reason Sam was looking at him so expectantly was due to him waiting on the drummer, Danny shook his head to force it to work. 

“H-Hold on,” he began, taking a hand that had rested on Sam’s waist and bringing it up to his forehead, “you… you remember that conversation?? You were asleep!!” 

Danny hadn’t meant for his voice to come out like a screech, however he was just so damn confused that he really couldn’t focus the brain power on proper speech etiquette. 

“What?” Now it was Sam’s turn to knit his brow in confusion. “Oh, yeah! No, I was just faking it. It’s an old trick I pull out sometimes to get out of work; I started doing it so that Jake, Josh, and Ronnie were stuck doing chores instead of me.” 

Daniel felt like he was losing his mind. How was Sam so goddamn chipper about this?? 

“Ok. Ok. Oh my god.” Daniel forced himself to take a breath. It felt as if his entire world was crumbling beneath his feet and his brain was struggling to keep up with the rapidly shifting terrain. 

“So, you remember that whole conversation.” It wasn’t a question, though Danny had intended it to be. 

“Yep!” Danny felt a piece of his soul die at the chipper tone Sam used. He elected to ignore it. 

“And… that means you understand how it actually works…” 

“Apparently better than you did, Danny Boy,” Sam snarked, a playful grin that bordered on flirtatious spreading across his lips. 

Danny could only stare incredulously at Sam. 

“And you’re ok with it??” 

“...Yeah,” Sam answered slowly, “I already knew I was in love with you.” 

And that, right there, was how Daniel Wagner died. In retrospect, he had a good go of it. He was able to follow his dreams, be a rockstar. If he had to pick one, he’d say his one regret in life was ever befriending Samuel fucking Kiszka. It would have saved his life, after all. 

“Danny?” 

Sammy’s voice snapped him out of his cardiac arrest, pulling him back to the present. 

“Y-You… You…” Once again, Daniel felt like his brain was melting out of his head and pouring out of his ears. This can’t be real. Like, it just can’t. “You already… me??” 

“Yeah…” Sammy was looking at him strangely, as if Danny were the one acting weird. 

“You realize what you just told me, right??” 

“I don’t understand why you’re acting so surprised. You already knew this.” 

Danny tried to follow Sam’s logic in his head, he really did. He was still under the spell. He had to be. It was the only way Sam’s behavior made any sense to him. 

“Sam… you were drugged, ok? I don’t know exactly how, but those… your… actions were not your own,” Danny tried to explain, careful and gentle as possible. 

Then, it was as if a lightbulb went off inside Sam’s head. Daniel felt relief hit him; finally Sam got it. They could move past this and save their friendship. 

“Daniel, look at me,” Sammy slid his hands from behind Daniel’s neck to rest them on the sides of his face, positioning it so that Danny had to look at him, “I am not under any spell right now. I am in my sane mind, do you get me?” 

Danny opened his mouth to speak, but Sam cut him off before he had the ability to protest. 

“I am so fucking in love with you. Like, so fucking in love it’s probably illegal. And that was why the potion worked. Because I am in love with you. If I wasn’t, it wouldn’t have worked at all… do you understand what I am telling you in very clear, not-able-to-be-misinterpreted words?” Sam had said every sentence slowly and with a gravity to it that left no room for debate. They were spoken as fact; as law. Just how energy cannot be created nor destroyed, Sam Kiszka was in love with Daniel Wagner. 

Yet Daniel still had a hard time grasping the concept. 

“But… all that… that cuddling and-and kissing and all that… you’ve never acted that way before,” Daniel reasoned, believing this to be the work of the potion and hard evidence to support that belief. 

Sam just laughed, the noise warming up the ice that had frozen in Danny’s veins. 

“I always wanna kiss you, Daniel. The only reason I hadn’t yet was because I didn’t think you wanted me that way. And before you try and say it was the potion forcing me, it just never occurred to me to not act upon my feelings.” 

Danny was still apprehensive, unable to fully grapple with the concept that Sam wanted to kiss him at all times. But, he was beginning to see what everyone had been telling him the past 24 hours. 

“...Prove it.” 

With nothing but a quick “ok” spoken under his breath, Sam wasted no time launching forward and locking his lips with Danny’s. His hands slid from Danny’s cheeks to the back of his head, manipulating it so that Sam could tip it back and deepen the kiss. Once again, Danny felt dizzy. But, unlike the other kiss the two of them shared last night, this one was quick and urgent. Sam had something to prove and he was not about to let Daniel walk away from this without getting his point through Danny’s thick skull. 

It was Sam who eventually pulled away, having to gasp for air. 

“Holy shit,” Danny panted, his head feeling woozy as he took in the sight of his best friend looking absolutely ruined, yet giddy just from his lips. 

“Yeah,” Sam breathed in response, his smile turning dopey as he laughed. 

“You… You love me…” 

Danny watched in real time the excitement and shock that flooded Sam’s eyes. 

“Oh, thank fucking god,” Sam quickly uttered, throwing his head back, “YOU FINALLY GET IT!” Sam had taken to shaking Danny by the shoulders. 

“That’s actually great news because I’m also in love with you,” Daniel admitted, a giddiness of his own flooding his veins at finally being able to say those words out loud to Sam. 

“I would fucking hope so, you dense idiot.” There was no malice in Sam’s words. Quite the opposite, really. He had leaned back down onto Danny’s chest, burying his face into Danny’s neck as they embraced. 

“Wait… when did you-” 

“Truthfully? When we graduated.”

Daniel started to process what that meant. Since we graduated…

“YOU MEAN WE ACTUALLY COULD’VE FUCKED THIS WHOLE TIME??” 

+++

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[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Turning Page - Sam Kiszka

A/N: Thanks a lot @ascendingtostardust , for having the audacity to mention Sam reading his wedding vows. This isn’t super long, but it’s something. Consider it my grand return to writing, I suppose. Wedding vows written by @stardustcatcher

DISCLAIMER: I do not know what everyone’s family situations are and what have you, so I did my best to write this in a way that everyone can relate to.

WARNINGS: None. Lots of cavity inducing fluff.

MASTERLIST

•••

“You’re making me want to throw up,” Ronnie joked, attempting to lighten the heavy mood in the room.

The mood in the room was anything but bad; it was dripping in excitement. So much, in fact, that it was almost overbearing. Add some insane nerves into that? It was intense, to say the least.

A barely audible giggle was all you could offer her, staring at your reflection in the mirror and admiring the work that your makeup artist had done, along with your hair - half of it perfectly pinned up, with a few pieces left down to frame your face.

“Sam is gonna be floored when he sees you,” Ronnie grinned, running a hand over your shoulder lovingly. “Dare I say, he might even cry.”

You both giggle, before three gentle knocks broke the two of you out of the sweet moment.

“Come on in!” you called, turning towards the door.

Karen’s bright smile greeted you before she even spoke a word.

“Can I help you get into your dress, love?” She asked, glancing down at the time on her phone briefly. “I told Jake, Josh and Danny you would be down to do a first look with them soon, like you asked.”

“Thank you.” You gave her a warm smile, swallowing down the lump in your throat as your stood up to get into your dress.

The process of getting your dress on was a tedious one, the corset back proving to be the most time consuming part.

“Okay…” Karen huffed, concentration evident in her voice.

You glanced up and watched her in the mirror, only to be met with her sparkling eyes as she finished the back of your dress.

“How does it feel?” She questioned, eyeing your face carefully. She studied people much like Jake did at times; something you found so incredibly endearing.

“Perfect,” you nodded, looking over yourself in the mirror. “It’s so perfect… It’s-“ you suck in a deep breath, trying to fight back the tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh- don’t cry,” Karen begged softly, clearly choking on her own words at the sight of you.

“Yeah, please don’t,” Ronnie added. “I will start sobbing and I’m trying to hold it all in for at least one more hour.”

You all laugh amongst yourselves and share a few careful - but long, hugs.

“Are you ready?” Karen finally asked, taking your hand in her’s.

You nodded, walking with her towards the door that Ronnie was holding open for you.

“Are you sure Sam isn’t gonna try to hide in there with them?”

“No, no,” Karen answered, shaking her head frantically. “Absolutely not. Kelly has him very occupied.”

You sighed for what felt like the thousandth time, nerves unlike any you had ever felt before bubbling up inside you, as you make your way down the hallway to the room that Jake, Danny and Josh were in.

Karen went ahead of you, pulling the door open and peaking only her head in. A few muffled words were exchanged between her and who you guessed to be Danny. You weren’t entirely sure, thanks to all the zoning out your nerves were causing.

“After you,” Karen smiled, opening the door for you to walk through.

You step through the door, choking back a sob as Josh and Danny both gasp audibly. Jake’s jaw falling slack right at the same time.

“Oh… oh, my,” Josh breathed out, completely in awe of you. “Oh, my god.”

“Well, aren’t you just beautiful,” Jake was the next to speak up, voice noticeably strained.

“T-thank you,” you smiled, dropping your eyes to the floor.

When you looked back up, Danny was making his way up to you with watery eyes.

When he made it to you, he opened his arms for you and you happily walked straight into his warm embrace.

“I love you. You look absolutely stunning,” Danny’s voice wavered and a soft sniffle sounded from him. “I’ve been dying for this day since me, You and Sam all became friends. I’m so happy for you, Y/N.”

“Danny, please.” The words almost came out sounding like a whimper, his words threatening to break down the flood gates that you’d spent all day building up. “I love you so much.”

Pulling away, you turned to Jake and Josh and opened your arms up for both of them, pulling them each into a warm hug.

“I am so happy for you and Sammy boy.” Jake squeezed you in his arms. “He’s over the moon. I’ve never seen him so giddy. And he’s always giddy.”

“No kidding,” Josh joined in. “He’s been upstairs bouncing off the god damn walls.”

“Well, it won’t be much longer until he finally gets to see you,” Karen cut in, coming up behind the four of you. “You guys better get going; only half an hour until the ceremony starts.”

Jake, Josh and Danny parted ways, heading back upstairs to see Sam one more time, then head outside where everything was set up.

*

You clutched the gorgeous bouquet in your hands for dear life - hoping it would somehow keep you tethered to earth.

So many thoughts were rushing through your mind, bouncing from one side of your skull to the other and echoing around.

No, you weren’t getting cold feet; it was more like… fears of tripping and falling, stuttering over your vows, mascara running down your cheeks from the tears that were inevitably going to be shed within mere minutes.

A short instrumental piece that Jake had written and recorded on his acoustic just for the wedding, filled your ears, warming your body with an overwhelming sense of joy.

Danny and your best friend -as maid of honor and best man- were the first two to make their way down the aisle, disappearing out of your vision just as they were about to reach the end and place themselves on either side of Sam.

Josh and Ronnie followed, arm in arm, following the exact same path.

Jake and your other best friend made their way down together.

Momentarily, you thought about how well they had been getting along since the night of your first little wedding rehearsal.

‘They would be cute…’ you thought to yourself.

Finally, your ring bearer and flower girls made their way haphazardly down the aisle. A sweet sight for everyone to witness.

Suddenly, you’re being pulled from your daze as the very familiar notes of a piano fill your ears.

After not much discussion, Sam agreed to Turning Page, stating: “I want you to walk down the aisle to whatever song makes you happy.”

And that was that.

You took each step carefully, turning the corner and bringing yourself into view of your friends and family - all standing and anticipating your entrance.

But most importantly, Samuel Francis Kiszka.

Everyone else faded into the background, your vision focused solely on Sam and no one else. He was like a magnet pulling you towards him.

Your eyes scanned his body from his feet up, his tan suit fitting him flawlessly and sitting perfectly against his sunkissed skin.

The second your eyes landed on his face, you were getting close enough to see the tears that had spilled out from his eyes and the dam finally broke.

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, holding in the sob threatening to tear through your throat as best you could.

A couple of tears escaped as you reached Sam, who’s hand was shakily outstretched for you to take.

“My beautiful girl,” he cooed so quietly you barely heard it, reaching up to skillfully dab your tears away.

You took his hand and let him guide you underneath the arbor of flowers and greenery, until you were standing straight across from each other.

Sam squeezed each other your hands comfortingly, tears still visible in his eyes as his smile beamed at you.

All your nerves and fears seemed to melt away in that moment.

“Good evening, everyone!” Your officiant captured the attention of your ears, but your eyes stayed fixed of Sam - as did his.

“From this gorgeous little place, we take ourselves out of the usual routines of our daily living to witness a very special moment in the lives of Y/N  and Sam. Today they join their lives in the union of marriage.”

Somehow, your smiles widened.

“To all their guests, they are happy to share this moment with you. They have known most of you for many years. You watched them grow up, you went to school with them, or you worked with them. Because you are the ones who have supported them throughout their lives and know them so well, it is only fitting that you are the ones to share this remarkable moment with them.”

The officiant continued on, some of what he said being completely lost on you - and Sam, too, you assumed.

Only for what felt like a moment did the two of you get lost in your own world, though, before the officiant grabbed your attention.

“We come now to the words Y/N and Sam want to hear the most today…the words that take them across the threshold from being engaged to being married.”

Your heart pounded away in your chest. You swear you can feel Sam’s pounding heartbeat through his fingertips, but it was arguably just your own.

“A marriage, as most of us understand it, is a voluntary and full commitment. It is made in the deepest sense to the exclusion of all others, and it is entered into with the desire and hope that it will last for life. Before you declare your vows to one another, I would like to hear you both confirm that it is indeed your intention to be married today.”

Turning to Sam first, he was finally forced to tear his eyes away from you.

“Sam, do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Y/N in marriage? If so, please answer “I do.””

You watched Sam’s adams apple move, and heard his shaky and strained voice.

Sam returned his eyes to you, flashing you that signature smile of his. “I do.”

“Y/N,”

It was your turn to force your eyes away from Sam.

“Do you come here freely and without reservation to give yourself to Sam in marriage? If so, please answer “I do.””

“I do,” you answered, voice much louder and stronger than you’d expected it to be.

“Sam and Y/N, having heard that it is your intention to be married to each other, I now ask you to declare your marriage vows.”

The officiant turned towards you, nodding their head and giving you the go ahead.

“Sammy, I love you with every fiber of my being…with a passion that can't be expressed in words, only in kisses, glances, and years of adventure by your side. You are my every dream come true, and I can't wait to experience the rest of my life with you right beside me.” You take a deep breath, attempting to keep your composure.

“I promise to be your guiding light in the darkness, a warming comfort in the cold, and a- shoulder to lean on when life is too much to bear on your own.”

More tears filled your eyes as you finished the last of your vows., “You make me laugh, you make me think and above all, you make me happy. I vow to love you and cherish you, forever and always,” you finished, grasping at Sam’s hands tightly.

The look in Sam’s eyes was indescribable. He looked at you in a way that no romance novel or movie could never describe or replicate.

The officiant turned towards Sam, granting him the go ahead to move forward into his own vows.

Sam cleared his throat and glanced down at your joined hands for a split second.

“Before you, there were times where living felt like a curse. Only an idea of what could be, what possibilities could lie ahead of me. Then, You came. You walked into my life like a ray of light and joy. You came in and took the curse away. You showed me that humanity was not only ripe with hate and rivalry, but also friendship and unconditional love.” Sam took a step closer to you, staring so deeply into your eyes, you were almost scared he was melting holes through you.

“The holding of hands, a gentle touch, and a kiss on the cheek… Y/N, you are my world. you are my sky, my sand, my ocean…the very earth beneath my feet. To be touched by you is like being touched by god, to dance among the stars and heavens above. I promise to love you and walk with you through every adventure imaginable, for the rest of my life.”

Should you need to speak again with your own words, you wouldn’t be able to. Sam, as he so often did, had left you completely speechless.

Just out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake guiding your little ring bearer up to the officiant, who carefully took the rings with a warm smile.

“Your wedding ring is the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites your two hearts in love,” the officiant said, passing Sam the ring for you first. “Sam, place this ring on Y/N’s finger and repeat after me…”

Sam took your left hand and cradled it in his, already lining up the ring with your finger eagerly. He gave the officiant a quick nod.

“I give you this ring...”

Sam quickly repeated, “I give you this ring,”

“Wear it with love and joy...”

“Wear it with love and joy,”

“As this ring has no end…”

“As this ring has no end,”

“My love is also forever…”

Sam’s face turned serious, intense passion pouring off of him in that moment that you couldn’t describe if you had tried.

“My love is also forever.”

Without missing a beat, Sam slid the ring down onto your finger, his touch lingering for a moment.

After a moment, Sam pulled away and offered his left hand to you. Then, you turned to listen to the officiant.

“Y/N, place this ring on Sam’s finger and repeat after me…”

You nodded, eyes drifting right back to Sam.

“I give you this ring…”

“I give you this ring,” you repeated.

“Wear it with love and joy…”

“Wear it with love and joy,”

“As this ring has no end…”

“As this ring has no end,”

“My love is also forever…”

“My love is also forever.” You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and pushed the ring onto Sam’s finger, just like he had done.

“May the wedding rings you exchanged today remind you always that you are surrounded by enduring love.” The officiant flashed you both a wide smile. “Everyone has advice for newlyweds.  Sam and Y/N, I offer these good wishes to you on this special day…”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you neared the end of the ceremony. Every part of your body was screaming with joy and excitement, dying to embrace Sam in a hug, a sweet kiss to seal the moment.

You almost swear you can see him visibly bouncing on his toes, unable to contain his own excitement.

“May your life together be blessed with prosperity and good health.  May you always share open and honest communication between each other.  May you respect each other’s individual talents and gifts, and give full support to each other’s professional and personal pursuits.

May you cherish the home and family you will create together.  May all the years to come be filled with moments to celebrate and renew your love.  May your love be a life-long source of excitement, contentment, affection, respect, and devotion for one another.”

Sam used his grip on your hands to tug you closer, a goofy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth that you had longed to kiss all day.

“And so, now, by the power vested in me , it is my absolute honor and delight to declare you husband and wife.” the officiant paused, glancing between the two of you.

“You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Gasping at the force of which Sam pulled you into him, your lips molded together with his so perfectly. Everything stopped in that moment.

There was no one else. Just you, and Sam. Finally the one you could call your husband.

Faintly, you could hear the final words of your ceremony and the loud cheers from all your friends and family that surrounded you.

“I am very pleased to present the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Francis Kiszka!”

Throwing your joined hands up in the air, Sam’s smile could have set anything within view of it ablaze - as could yours.

The two of you took off down the aisle, together this time.

But instead of going back inside the small house, Sam guided you towards the back porch.

“Sammy, what are you doing?” You giggled, not really caring in the slightest where he was leading you.

He stopped just at the bottom of the stairs, hands finding your waist. “Just wanted to have you all to myself for a minute,” he sighed. “Haven’t seen you in a million damn years.”

“I missed you all day, too.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “It was torture.”

He pulled back slightly, eyes raking over your face. “You. Are so. Beautiful,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “My gorgeous girl.”

A deep blush immediately began to form over your cheeks. “Sammy.”

“What?” His tone was playful, eyebrows raised at you. “Why are you blushing? Should I stop flirting? Save it for later tonight…?”

The meaning behind his words and the sly smirk on his face only made your blush darken.

“Later, huh?” You inquired, trying to act cool.

“Yes, later-“ Without any warning, Sam bent down and scooped you up in his arms, laughing at the squeal that erupted from you. “-If that’s alright with you, Mrs. Kiszka?”

“Who said it had to be later?” you purred, hand coming up to rest on the side of his neck.

“Don’t tease me, doll,” Sam warned. “We have a reception to attend and besides, I think I’d rather make you wait and suffer for a few more hours.”

“You’re awful.” You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back your smile.

“Whatever you say, wifey.” Sam teased, watching the path ahead as he carried you towards the tent where your reception was being held.

You crack up into a fit of laughter. “Don’t ever say, ‘wifey’ again.”

@sammysprincess @shutupdevvie @jordie-gvf @ascendingtostardust @stardustcatcher @streamsofstardust @sarakay-gvf @belovedsamuel @gardensgatedaisy @ageofbarbarians @theweightofjake @jake-kiszkas-smirk @positivegvfthings @gretasmokerising @doodle417 @gretavanfanfics @greta-van-chaos @colorstreammind @ofburningskies @of-infinite-wonders @groovyvanfleet @joshsindigostreak @gvfpal @writingcold @cal-a-bungaa

@gretavanbitches

@juliensbakery

@gretavanfreaky

@vanfleeter

@stillstreetjoshua

@twistedmelodies

@jakes-eyebrows

[jordie-gvf]

cocoa butter kisses, sammy

pc : hannah wicklund on twitter

wc : 799

warnings : pure fluff, pregnancy hormones

this pregnancy was killing you. your feet were swollen, your back was hurting, everything was tender. but nothing compared to the itchy skin of your stomach.

your little boy was just starting to adapt to his environment for the next few months, making your skin itchy and tight. it had been unbearable, nothing worked for you. no balms, butters, or lotions could do the trick to soothe your delicate skin.

sammy had just come home from a quick recording session in the dawn and walked upstairs to find you deep in sleep. next to you was clementine, the snoring two year old. he made his next move back down the stairs and into the kitchen, making breakfast as his two beautiful girls slept soundly in the bedroom down the hall from him.

he knew your favorite, chocolate chip pumpkin pancakes with bacon. with clementine, it was dry cheerios and kale with lemon for breakfast, but he couldn’t bare to watch you eat by yourself, so he ate the same thing for breakfast almost everyday.

once everything was finished cooking and he grabbed fresh tulips from the garden and placed them in the vase, he quietly went upstairs to wake the two of you.

“my sweet loves, it’s time to get up,” he said gently, barely opening the curtains to let the morning soleil brighten the room.

clementine shifted first, which woke you up. “hi baby, howd you sleep?” he asked clementine, scooping her up in his arms and sitting on the bed, resting his back up against the headboard.

“mm” a quick mumble from the sleepy girl, her head remaining on her fathers chest. “and what about mama, howd she sleep?” he asked, nudging you awake. a moan left your mouth and you curled under the blanket. “come on clem, i made breakfast.”

he nudged your arm once again “come on, baby. i made your favorite. pumpkin pancakes and bacon. i can hear it down the hall, calling your name.”

“mhm,” turning around to face him. he placed his free hand on your face and rubbed your cheek lightly. “fine, i guess clementine and i will eat all the pancakes, and we aren’t gonna save you any”

“like you would ever let that happen,”

“yeah you’re right i wouldn’t, but come eat while they’re still hot”

you slowly made your way out of bed as sam left the room to get clementine set up with her breakfast. you went into the en suite bathroom and scratched your exposed stomach.

you went down the hall to the kitchen, seeing the extravagant breakfast sam had made. pancakes, bacon, fresh tulips, and a fresh cup of hibiscus tea.

you sat down in the chair sam had pulled out for you. he handed you your prenatals and you let out a big groan.

“i know you hate them but you need to take them, our little bluejay needs you to take them.”

you grabbed the tea and shoved the vitamins in your mouth, reluctantly taking them. sam sat down and cut up clementines fruit and put them in her oatmeal.

you all ate in comfy silence and enjoyed your breakfast. once you had finished, you got up and walked over to sammy’s side of the table. you leaned down and kissed his head as he rubbed your stomach, his calloused hand soothing your itchy skin. “thank you for breakfast, honey bunch.”

he smiled and gave you a big kiss. you grabbed the empty dishes and walked over to the sink. you tried to do the dishes, but sam came over and hip bumped you to get you to move. “i’m not moving, you cook and i clean, always. i wash you dry.”

the dishes had been done and clementine went down for a nap on the ottoman. you and sammy sat on the couch and put on the mandalorian for you to watch. he always laid first, laying you between his legs so he could have his hands on your stomach at all times, feeling everest move around in your belly.

he started to rub your stomach, sending you into pure tranquility. “i know baby, i know it itches. how about some lotion?”

“lotion never works sadly,” you said, slightly drifting off to sleep.

“what if i told you i made you whipped cocoa butter with frankincense.”

you turned your head to look at him and he held a glass jar in his hand as if it was his most prized possession. you got teary eyed, he made you something special that you would cherish forever.

“you don’t have to cry, love. it’s just body butter.”

he opened the jar and scooped some out with his finger and warmed it between his hands. “just relax, mon cheri. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

[blacksmokebarbarians]

How about Sammy getting all excited because you’re giving him a special gift you’ve been hiding from him? 🥰

yes. yes. YES. its his birthday, we've got to do this one.

Preparation had begun many weeks ago, when you first wrote out the plan for how you wanted Sammy's birthday night to go. Fairy lights, dinner on the porch, and of course, his birthday gift! The whole shebang. While you had begun becoming rather reserved and secretive as the days inched closer to his special day, Sam grew more and more anxious to know what was going on.

"Oh, come on, Doll, Can't you just tell me what's going on?" He begged, leaning against the kitchen counter as you made breakfast one day. It was the week before his birthday, and he had been growing rather anxious to know what you were up to.

"You can wait a week." You giggled, flipping the pancakes that sizzled on the skillet.

Well before his actual birthday, you treated him like a prince. In all honestly, you couldn't help yourself. He was always so sweet to you, it was in your natural nature to give him special treatment, even if it was a week before his big day. You made him breakfast, took him out on little day trips, and made sure to cuddle up close to him when the night came.

He groaned gently, his brows furrowed as he crossed his arms. "Could I at least get a piece of bacon for the troubles?"

You shook your head with a laugh, handing him one of the prepared slices that you had already finished cooking. Ever since you had pledge to go vegan with Sam, you had been practicing all of his favorite recipes. You found that cooking rice paper with certain seasonings and syrups grew to taste like your favorite piece of breakfast cuisine.

Once you finished up breakfast, the two of you sat and ate, listening to the record that ran in the next room over. "Is it.. a surprise party with the boys?"

"Nope."

"A camping trip?"

"Nope"

"Is it a--"

"Samuel. Hush."

"Finee." He grumbled, finishing off his orange juice. You admired him as the sun from the window shined down on his tanned skin. How did you get so damn lucky? He was like a dream come true, and you had the pleasure of spoiling him when they time finally came.

April 3rd.

It was finally time. The day started off just as any other day had-- the two of you tangled in each other's arms, a nice warm breakfast, cuddling on the couch. When the afternoon finally neared, you sent Sam out to get some wine of his choice from the store to get a chance to set up. The second he had left the house, you were stringing up the fairy lights, finishing off dinner, and setting up a nice candlelit table for the two of you. You had slipped on your dress just before he had arrived. As you heard the jingling of his keys just outside the door, you stood, readily awaiting his entrance.

As the door finally creaked open, he stopped, looking around in awe. You could hardly tell if the look on his face was confusion or absolute shock. "Happy Birthday, Darling.."

Sammy shut the door behind him, his lips curving into a gentle smile. He could hardly get a word out as he looked around, holding the bottle of wine to his chest, "Baby.." He finally got out. His eyes finally met with yours as he stepped forward. "This is beautiful.. Thank you.." He said gently, his open hand wrapping around your waist, leaning down to kiss you gently.

As you slowly pulled away, you took his hand in yours, guiding him to the dining table which was elegantly set. "Anything for the birthday boy!" You grinned, sitting down opposite of him.

"Seriously, honey, thank you." He smiled, admiring you as you began to pour each of you a glass of wine.

The two of you began to dig in to dinner-- Sam leaning back in his chair out of pure delight. "This is wonderful.." He hummed gently, savoring each bite of his meal. "I'm glad that you like it. I've had this all planned out for nearly a month now.." You explained, taking a sip from your glass.

Finally, as the two of you finished off your supper, you stood, Sam's eyes following you intently. You went to the nearby shelf that held all of his favorite records, pulling one down before setting it on the turn-table. "Music and dinner?" He asked curiously, perking up as he watched you place the needle. "You bet." You hummed, walking over to the table, holding a hand out to him. "Come on, Birthday Boy.." He looked up to you for a moment before taking your hand, following as you led him to the livingroom. You began to sway with him gently to the beat of the music.

"This is nice.." He whirred, placing his hands on your hips gently, following your lead. As the two of you swayed together, you rested your head against his shoulder, smiling wide. He left a gentle kiss against the top of your head, humming along to the tune.

"I love you, Sammy.."

"I love you, darling." He murmured, holding you close. You listened as he began to softly sing along to the lyrics of the James Taylor album. His soft voice vibrated against you as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. As the song slowly came to an end, you looked up to him. "This isn't the last of your celebration." You teased gently. His eyes widened as he whined, "I knew this wasn't it! You've been too sneaky lately.."

You slowly shifted away, gesturing for him to sit on the couch. "What is it?" He asked curiously. You could tell that he was attempting to be contained, but his excitement was about to burst. "Oh, come on! Just tell me already!" He begged. You walked upstairs for a moment, leaving him drenched in suspense. Finally, you came back to the living room, carrying a large box with you. Setting the wrapped box down in front of him, he raised a brow. "You are so devious." He chuckled.

"Go ahead, darling. Open it."

Without any hesitation, Sam tore the wrapping paper from the rectangular box, throwing it off to the side. As he ripped back the paper, a large logo was revealed that read 'Fender'. His eyes lit up as he looked up to you. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Keep going!!" You encouraged, watching as he opened up the cardboard. Once the box was open, he took the foam exterior off, exposing the new tan jazz bass beneath. The gleam of excitement twinkled in his eyes as he picked it up, admiring the new instrument.

"Baby, this is amazing! I've been looking at this one for months now!" He practically squealed, looking over to you. "Thank you so much.. For all of this, Really. I couldn't ask for a better birthday." He assured.

You leaned over, pulling him into a gentle kiss before he escaped away to test out his new bass.

[gardensgatekeeper]

No Matter What

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 708

Warnings: Just fluff!

Just a typical best friends to lovers trope!

You and Sam Had been friends practically since you came out of the womb. Your moms were best friends, so naturally the two of you spent nearly every waking hour together.

Things started to change a bit when the captain of the football team, Kyle, asked you to senior prom. You were a little disappointed that Sam hadn’t asked you first, especially since the two of you had such a blast together last year. He ended up going with some girl in his Chemistry class named Tori or Taylor.

The whole night, things were going surprisingly well and you and Kyle seemed to hit it off pretty well, apart from him being a little handsy here and there. As the night went on, you were getting a little frustrated when it seemed like he was only after one thing, something you had promised to keep for someone special. No matter how many times you pushed his hands away, he just couldn’t take a hint, so you finally excused yourself to the restroom.

In the stall, you overheard one of the girls on the cheerleading team talk about how much she bet that Kyle would be able to get in your pants tonight, calling you an “easy lay.” You couldn’t help the tears flowing down your face. You waited until they left before making your way out, wanting nothing more than to hide in your bed until graduation.

Just as you exited the bathroom, you ran into Sam, who was clearly confused by your disheveled appearance. “Y/N? What’s going on? What happened?” He asked, doing a quick glance over to make sure nothing was broken or bleeding. “Just your typical high school jerks, I don’t really want to talk about it. Just wanna go home.” You sigh, wiping the tears from your face. “C’mon, let's go. I’ll take you.” “What about your date?” You asked. “Eh, she seems to be having a better time with her friends. I don’t think she’ll miss me.” He chucked.

Sam being the gentleman he is, opened the passenger door for you before hopping in the driver’s seat and pulling out of the packed parking lot. It wasn’t until you passed the turn back to your house that you  asked Sam where he was going. “Can’t let the night go to waste when I know you spent hours getting ready. Just wait, it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Even in the dark car, you could still see the faint smile that rested on his face. Soon enough, he pulled into the familiar gravel lot of the lookout by the lake the two of you frequented. “Sam, what are we doing here?” He said nothing and just got out, walking over to the passenger side and waited for you to grab his outstretched hand. The radio in the car was still playing as both of you walked to the front of the car. “May I have this dance Y/N?”

Softly smiling, you nodded as he closed the space between, quickly finding a rhythm together. He quietly hummed along to the melody coming through the speakers and you couldn’t help but rest your head on his chest, thankful for the distraction to the events that unfolded earlier.

“Thank you for this Sam.” you hummed. “Y/N” he briefly paused before continuing. “You know you’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.” Though he had said those words a thousand times before, they have a bit more emotion behind them this time.

You pulled back just a bit before responding. “You’re my best friend too Sam, no matter what.” “No matter what?” You nodded again in response, confused at what was going on.

Suddenly, it felt like the world stopped spinning and before you knew it, Sam slowly leaned in and connected his lips to yours. Though it was short, the kiss burned with passion and lust. You felt like you were floating above the clouds.

As if just testing the waters, Sam quickly pulled back, reading your face for any signs to stop, but of course there were none. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He whispered. “Was it everything you hoped and imagined for?” you warmly smiled. “Even better.”

[jaket-fanatic-gvf]

You Belong With Me

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Summary: This is loosely based on the song "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift (I went to her concert in Minneapolis on Friday and couldn't get this idea out of my head.

Warnings: None as of right now! There will for sure be a part 2, but even that will be pretty fluffy I think.

A/N: So this is the first fan fic I've ever felt okay enough to post. If anyone reads this and has any tips or suggestions for me please let me know! I've also only had Tumblr for like a month or 2, and I'm not tech-savvy at all, so bear with me while I try to figure this all out :)

Word Count: 3.5k

“Samuel Francis Kiszka, open your door!”

Things are starting to fall out of your grasp. The walk to Sam’s house isn’t far, only directly across the street from yours, but you have all of the supplies for your weekly movie night, so your arms are full to the brim. You hear a couple bags of candy hit the ground and decide to yell again. 

“Sammy, I swear to god, I’m going to drop–”

The door swings open and you are greeted by your best friend’s other best friend and roommate. Danny’s curls are pulled bag into a low bun and he’s wearing sweatpants and a muscle tank. He frowns, and when you look at his face he seems a bit drowsy.

“Danny! Oh thank God. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? Sam normally is waiting for me at the door after I text him that I’m on my way. I have all of the stuff for movie night, so I couldn’t open the door. Sorry if I woke you, can you help me please? Where’s Sam? I could've swore he read my text–”

“Y/N,” Danny puts both of his hands on your shoulders and shakes you a bit, “One, take a breath, I don’t know how you can talk so much. Two, Madison called him I think, I can hear them arguing on the phone.”

Danny takes all of the snacks you’re holding and the ones you dropped allowing you to resituate your hold on the blankets and skincare products you’re holding Sam will let you test on him. He’s walked back into his home and its out of your sight before you even get the door closed.

Once you cross the threshold of the house, you can hear the arguing too. You have never really been a fan of Madison. She and Sam started going out last semester after he helped tutor her in whatever math class he had to take. Is your dislike for Maddie slightly due to the fact that you have a crush on your best friend… no, that’s neither here nor there. You just think she’s a mean person. She doesn’t deserve a sweetheart like Sam. 

Maddie also really doesn’t like you. She’s tried on multiple occasions to try and make Sam stop hanging out with you even though you’ve never been anything but perfectly platonic with him- you think you’d die from embarrassment if he ever found out about your crush. You and Sam have been friends ever since the beginning of college. You were in the same orientation group and even though you have very different majors and friend groups, he managed to weasel his way into being your favorite person. 

The first thing you remember learning about Sam is how chaotic he is. He never fails to make you laugh with his goofy moods and his iconic wit. He’s been your saving grace on multiple occasions during finals weeks and truthfully, you don’t think you could have done these last 2 ½ years without him by your side. Friday night movie night actually became a thing after you spent so much time locked away in your dorm room freshman year panicking about life that he decided to always have one night to force you to relax. The two of you have never missed a movie night together since they started.

Now, hearing one muffled half of an argument over the phone, you can’t help but think that the cause of the bickering is the movie night itself. Sam’s voice is raspy and it almost sounds like he’s begging Maddie for something? You try to not pay attention, but they have been on the phone for a few minutes now and it doesn’t seem to be letting up. You decide to text Sam to let him know that you’re in his living room whenever he’s ready.

Right after your message goes through, the ‘Read’ notification pops up and you hear Sam sigh. His voice becomes immediately less muffled when he opens his door and starts walking down the hallway towards you.

“Listen Maddie, I’m sorry, but I’m not going. You know I’m busy and you know I’d never cancel unless there’s an emergency. I’ll go to a different one with you some other time, I promise. But I have to go now; Y/N is here and we have a longtime standing commitment. I hope you have fun, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

You can now hear the muffled voice of Madison through the phone, and although you can’t hear what she’s saying, you know it’s some sort of sarcastic remark. It makes you roll your eyes. When he walks fully into the room you glance his way and your breath catches right away because you notice that he’s shirtless. You’ve seem Sam without a shirt on before, but it still flusters you to this day because he’s just so beautiful. 

Sam is wearing gray joggers and you can see his boxers peaking out the top of the band, and before you stare too long, you force yourself to turn away. Chill Y/N, you think, stay platonic. He’s nodding into his phone and only giving short replies now. 

“Okay… okay… Yes, 11 o’clock is fine… okay… okay, bye.”

Sam plops down on the couch right next to you and leans his head back running his hands over his face. When he drops them, his eyes are still closed and his eyebrows are drawn together. 

“Maddie says hi,” he says flatly.

You raise an eyebrow at him, and although he can’t see it, it’s almost like he can sense it. 

He sighs again. “You’re right, she didn’t.” At this point he opens one eye and turns his head to face you. His face is so close to yours and when you make eye contact it sends shivers down your body. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whisper.

Sam frowns and shakes his head slightly. “I don’t think that’ll help much… she’s not a fan– well, she thinks we spent too much time together. She thinks I’m– nevermind, I shouldn’t say.”

You pat his knee for comfort, and even though he didn’t say exactly what she said, he didn’t have to. It’s the same argument they’ve always had. Sam speaks to literally any girl- he’s cheating on her. Meanwhile, she flirts with all of the football players when she’s cheering (because of course she’s a cheerleader) and she says Sam is too overprotective of her when he’s upset about it.

“Okay…how about you pick the movie and I’ll make the popcorn?” you say as you stand.

“Ya, okay… can we get some alcohol in here too? I think I need it,” Sam sighs.

“Sure, I don’t know what you have, but I have some wine in my fridge, I can–”

“Let’s do shots!” Sam is getting to his feet now and he gives you a wicked grin as he passes you on the way to his kitchen. It’s crazy how fast his mood shifted.

Groaning, you reply, “Sammy, I hate shots.”

“I know you do, but I’m having a shit day and shots will make it better. Here, I even have a new bottle of tequila!” Sam reaches his fridge and pulls a bottle of tequila from the freezer. Even though you’re against the idea, you are already grabbing 2 shot glasses out of his cupboard as well as a bag of popcorn from the pantry.

“You know, Sam, I thought hanging out with me watching bad movies made your day better,” you pout as you put the popcorn in the microwave.

He smiles mischeviously at you again and states matter-of-factly, “Yes, but this has immediate benefits. Plus, it will make whatever shit movie we find more bearable.”

Sam pours you each a shot and you grimace when he hands it to you. You’re horrible at taking shots, even with all of the practice you’ve gotten with Sam over the years. He holds his glass up and you clink them together, and because practice makes perfect, you both slam the glasses on the counter before knocking back the shot at the exact same time. You make a sour face, but you don’t cough at all which you count as a win.

“Atta girl, Y/N!” Sam exclaims and gives you a little shove. You feel a blush setting in from the praise, but it immediately stops when Sam opens the bottle and pours you each another one.

“Sammy, no, this is horrible.”

“Oh, love, you’re going to need to beg harder than that if you want to stop. We’re taking at least 2 more,” Sam teases.

“I am not begging you for shit. It’ll go straight to your head and it’s already so big that you can barely fit it through the doorway. Pass it over.”

Sam huffs in indignation, but is already smiling again by the time your glasses clink. The same sequence follows, and one more round of shots is poured and swallowed within the minute. Before he can pour another, you grab the bottle of tequila from him and move to the microwave for the popcorn.

“Go pick the movie, Sammy, otherwise I’m going to pass out at your house and you will have to carry me across the street.”

Sam leaves the kitchen without a protest, but he calls back to you on his way out saying, “Like you don’t fall asleep every week anyways!”

He has the movie picked out and is rummaging through the facemasks and other skincare goodies you brought over when you walk back into the living room. 

“I took shots with you, so you have to do one of these with me,” you declare while getting settled next to Sam on the couch, a bit further away from each other than when he plopped down next to you earlier.

“I would’ve done one with you anyways, love. Help me pick one, I don’t know what any of them mean.”

You pick out a clay mask for each of you and Sam starts the movie, which is some random Netflix rom com. Sam asks for help putting it on, so you scootch over to him and sit on your knees. You turn his head to face you and tell him to close his eyes. Squeezing the paste out of the bag into your hand, you relish in the act of smoothing the product over his high cheekbones, across his forehead, and down the bridge of his nose. Since his eyes are closed, you take full opportunity to study every little detail of his face.

In your eyes, Sam Kiszka is perfect. Objectively, you always knew he was hot. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t one of the first things that drew you to him. But getting to know him was a whole different beast. He’s so funny, and smart, an insanely talented musician, and caring even though he does his best to hide that fact. The crush on Sam came shortly after the friendship began, but he never seemed to feel the same way about you and you didn’t dare make a move on him if you knew with 100% certainty that it wouldn’t be reciprocated. This friendship wasn’t worth the risk of that.

He gives a content sigh and whispers to you, “This is already very relaxing. I can’t tell if it’s the little face massage or the tequila.”

You giggle and reply, “Probably both, love,” which earns you a small smile from him. You finish up and sit back on your heels.

“Okay Sammy, you’re good. Can you help put on mine or should I go to your bathroom to put it on myself?”

“No, I can help you. How thick should it be?”

Sam sits up and turns towards you and with your faces so close together again your brain fogs for a second. Only a second though as you quickly pull yourself back to planet Earth. You give him instructions and close your eyes waiting for him to reciprocate.

“Sit back on against the couch, Y/N, I’m giving you the whole shabang.”

With that, you sink into the couch with your eyes still closed and you can feel Sam shifting his weight next to you. The packet of product gets ripped open and next thing you feel is the cold mask being rubbed onto your skin by his warm hands. You hold your breath because this feels very intimate and Sam chuckles once he notices.

“Ya, Y/N, I’m pretty sure you can keep breathing. I promise I’m not going to stick any of it up your nose.” To make a point of it, he taps one of his fingers on the point of your nose. You chuckle and swear at yourself in you’re head for being weird. Actually, you take that back. You blame the tequila and the fact that you can smell his cologne very well since youre sitting so close together.

Sam finishes rubbing the mask onto your face and by the time you open your eyes, he’s already resituating himself on the couch right up next to you, legs pressed together. He reaches for the bowl of popcorn and the bottle of tequila you set on his coffee table as you set a timer. This time, Sam forgoes the shot glasses and takes a swig right from the bottle. He hands the bottle to you and you do the same thing already knowing you’ll regret it.

The movie, of course, is really dumb, but you’re buzzed and content just to be present with Sam. Before you know it, the timer on your phone goes off and Sam is pulling you to your feet to go wash your faces. Sam’s bathroom is small, but you squeeze in behind him and sit on the edge of his tub while he rinses his face off first. He looks gorgeous and his skin is a little pink where he’s already rubbed the mask off. Droplets of water run down his arms and it leads you to staring right at his bare chest. 

“You’re so pretty,” you think and you don’t even realize you said it out loud until you see him stop moving suddenly and turn his gaze to stare at you. Suddenly, his cheeks are pink from more than just scrubbing his face. The flush in your cheeks comes back in full force as the two of you stare at each other and you're thankful that the mask you’re still wearing is at least partially covering it up.

Sam’s mind seems to be running a thousand miles a minute before he simply replies, “Thank you… I, um, I think you’re pretty too.”

Even the mask couldn’t cover the blush now. In fact, you think it’s melted off from the heat your cheeks are producing. You manage to squeak out a small thank you and he gestures for you to use the sink as he leans over to grab a towel. You awkwardly shuffle around each other and you feel some relief as you scrub the cool water over your face. When you’re done, your eyes catch Sam’s in the mirror and he’s still staring at you. Still blushing, maybe even more so now since he got caught looking at you, he thrusts a towel in your direction. Without another word, the two of you make your way back to his living room. This time when you both sit down on the couch, he leaves a bit of space between you.

This is it, you think. You fucked it up all because of like 4 shots of tequila and his stupid shirtles torso. For the rest of the movie you don’t talk to each other. Sometimes, you can feel him looking at you, but it’s like he can’t figure out what to say to you and you can’t fathom a way of not saying anything else that might embarrass you. When you movie ends, you clear your throat, and pull the blankets off.

“I think I’m going to go home, I’m pretty tired.”

Sam stands up as well and starts to fold up your blankets. 

“Okay, let me find my shoes quick, I’ll walk you over.”

“No, Sammy, it’s okay. It’s pretty early so I doubt there are many drunk people around yet.” Sam always walks you back across the road when movie night is at his house. You aren’t a big fan of the dark, and your guys’ houses are on a prime street for people walking to the frat and soroity houses from the dorms on campus.

“I insist, Y/N, just give me 2 seconds.”

Sam finds a pair of sandals as you pick up the rest of your blankets, but he quickly grabs them from you as you make your way to the door. What a gentleman. The walk across the street is quick and silent. Normally you are talking over one another and laughing so hard that tears form in your eyes. Tonight, however, you can actually hear the party music from the frats.

Once on your porch, you unlock the door, and Sam follows you inside to drop the blankets in your room. You wait for him in the entry way and fidget with your fingers. Things have never felt more out of place with the two of you than they do right now which one, is a testiment to your friendship, and two, makes you wonder how to say goodnight. You’re a hugger, but you think that might be a bit too awkward tonight.

Sam walks back from your room and before you even have the chance to mull it over he pulls you into a hug. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him and he winces when you put your hands on his bare back which makes you start to pull away, but he hugs you even tighter.

“You’re fingers are freezing,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sigh out a breath in relief and put your hands back on him. His muscles flex under your touch, but you don’t move away. Instead, you flip your hands over so the back of them can feel the warmth of his skin as well.

“You are truly so evil, Y/N” Sam states without any venom which makes you giggle.

“I need to steal your warm before you go, I obviously need it.”

He chuckles and you love the way you can feel it with your head pressed to his chest. This has turned into a longer hug than normal, but neither of you seem to want to let go. You’ve never hugged a shirtless Sam before and you’re sure you won’t be forgetting the feeling anytime soon. The heat. The smoothness. The smell. Finally, you are the one that pulls back. When you lock eyes with him, his mind seems to be racing again.

“Thanks for having me over, Sammy.” you whisper.

He smiles softly and whispers back, “My pleasure, love. You can come over every night for all I care.”

“I don’t think Madison would enjoy that offer.”

He stiffens his posture immediately and furrows his brows. Why did you have to bring that up? Tonight was about forgetting about their fight.

“Sorry Sam, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s okay, nothing you need to apologize for.”

It’s silent for a bit longer before you ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? I can tell something is bothering you.”

“No, I’m fine. It’s fine.”

He’s lying and you know it. And he knows you know it, but neither of you does a thing about it and the silence consumes you again. You decide it’s best if you just change the subject.

“Are you going to the football game tomorrow?” you ask. “I’m playing in the pep band and I know Maddie is cheering, so you won’t have anyone to sit with.”

His frown deepens. “No, I think I’ll sit this one out then, unless Daniel wants to go. I’m going to Maddie’s house before she has to go though, so maybe we can hang out after the game is done?”

“Won’t you want to go party?”

“Maybe, if you want to, but I won’t if you don’t want to.”

You want to say the Madison would not like that offer either, but this time you hold your tongue.

“Okay, I’ll let you know tomorrow how I’m feeling.”

His eyes soften a bit at your agreement and he pulls you back into another quick hug.

“Sounds great,” he murmurs. “Now get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He breaks away and walks out the door before either of you actually says goodnight.

.

.

.

A/N: Again, any feedback would be appreciated :)

[do-it-jakey-baby]

Fourth of July - 365 days later

Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: explicit sexual content, teasing, profanity, drinking

18+, MINORS DNI

Unlocking the door to the cabin, you step inside and breathe in the familiar scent. It had been exactly one year since you were last here. One year since your life changed completely.

You felt a sense of nostalgia wash over you, reliving all of the memories that these walls held. The good, the bad, the ugly. If you listened closely, you could still hear the echoes from nights spent wasted playing board games and poker. The next thing you hear is the pitter patter of two sets of paws clicking across the hardwood flooring.

“Rosebud, Hendrix!” You call, lowering yourself down into a squat so you could fuss over the two dogs. The door creaks and you look up to see him struggling through into the foyer, with a crate of beer tucked underneath his arm and bags from the store littering the rest of the space available.

“Baby, you don’t need to carry everything in.” You giggle, rising up to help.

“Ah, ah. Do you see these muscles?” He smirks, setting the bags down and lifting his sunglasses up into his hair, giving you a glimpse of those sweet, caramel irises that you’ve come to adore so deeply.

You walk over to him anyway, taking his face in your hands and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

He sighs, smiling down at you. “Hm, I don’t think you have. Maybe just refresh my memory?”

His hands wind around your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kisses you again.

“I love you, Samuel Kiszka.”

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Get a room!” Jake snorts, coming in through the door behind you.

“Nice to see you too, Jake.” You chuckle, peeling yourself away from Sam to open your arms out for Jake.

“How’ve you been, sweetheart?”

“Not too shabby. How’s furnishing the new place going?”

He rolls his eyes. “Painful.”

The conversation gets cut short when Josh and Danny come barrelling through the door, both greeting you with outstretched arms. You help them get their things inside and then sit down in the living area to catch up. Truth be told, there isn’t much to catch up on. You had uphauled your life pretty quickly to move to Nashville when you and Sam made things official, so it was just like the old days back in Frankenmuth all over again. They were essentially on your doorstep, but due to the band’s schedule you didn’t see anywhere near as much of them as you did as an adolescent. They were all adults now, each with individual lives they had to attend to. Still, you made it a point to hang out whenever you could.

“Hey, remember this time last year when you and Y/N hated each other? Boy, did that trip change things.” Danny chuckles, elbowing Sam in the ribs.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just glad I grew a set of balls and told her how I really felt.” He looks to you, taking your hand in his.

You decide to retire for the evening early, knowing that the next day would be full of carnage for the 4th of July celebrations. You get yourself ready for bed, washing your face and completing your skincare regime. You’re midway through brushing your teeth when Sam saunters into the bathroom, clad only in a pair of boxers with tiny palm trees dotted across them. He pulls his toothbrush from his travel bag and begins brushing his teeth, scooting in next to you at the vanity. He turns to you just before you’re about to spit, swiping some of the toothpaste dribbling from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his finger and deposits it onto your nose.

“Sam! I just did my skincare!”

“Oh yeah, what are you gunna do about it?”

You cut your eyes at him and he swiftly spits into the basin, then darts out of the room. You quickly clean yourself up, then sprint after him. When you enter the room, he’s hidden very inconspicuously under the comforter. You throw it back, jumping on top of him.

“You’re gunna regret that.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.” You smirk, then lean forward and take his earlobe into your mouth, nibbling gently on the flesh. You know full-well that the action is like cryptonite to him.

He audibly gasps, his hands flying up to grasp onto your waist. You drag your hand down the length of his torso, stopping just shy of the waistband of his boxers.

“Don’t tease.” He huffs.

“You should have thought about that before your little stunt back there.”

You palm him through the thin fabric, feeling him squirm beneath you. You kiss a trail down his neck, feeling his throat constrict as he swallows thickly. You dip your fingers into his waistband, pulling it down slowly until he springs free. You lower your head, pressing kisses into the delicate skin around his groin. His hand tangles into your hair as he stifles a whimper.

“Baby, please.”

You look up at him, your mouth dangerously close to where he wants it most. You maintain eye contact with him as you stick your tongue out and slowly glide it along the length of his cock, swirling it softly around the tip. He bucks his hips up, but you move backwards.

“Tsk tsk.”

“Fuck.” He hisses. “God damn, please. Please.”

You lower yourself back down, taking him into your hand as you let a long trail of spit leave your mouth. He throws his head back as you begin sliding your fist over him at an agonisingly slow pace. You rub your thumb over his head, which causes him to buck his hips again. This time though, you take him into your mouth. He whines as he hits the back of your throat, the grip in your hair growing tighter. You lap your tongue at his base, relishing in every noise that he’s making. You peer up to find his eyes half-lidded, his mouth parted, and sweat beginning to bead at his hairline. The image before you alone has your mind going feral, arousal rushing to your core.

My turn.

You release him with a pop, an audible huff leaving Sam’s lips. You lift up from the bed, removing your clothes until you’re fully naked. You crawl on top of him, raising up onto your knees when you get to his torso. You hover over his head and look down at him.

“Be a good boy and eat it.”

You watch as his eyes roll back into his head, then his hands find your ass and pull you down onto him. You gasp as he does exactly what you’ve asked. In fact, he doesn’t just eat you, he devours you wholly. He flicks his tongue over your clit with such ferocity that you’re already tumbling towards your climax.

“You- you’re. Fuck. You’re doing s-so good, baby.” You pant, your nails digging into the headboard above you.

You begin to absentmindedly grind into him, chasing your imminent release as the pressure builds sky-high. He seems to enjoy this, so you continue to rotate your hips. He suctions his mouth onto your clit, sucking on the swollen bud with fervour.

“Sam, fuck!”

Your mind goes blank as you plunge into the deepest depths of pleasure. It radiates over your entire body, engulfing you completely. You steadily drift back down to earth to see Sam gazing up at you. You lift yourself up and lay down on top of him, your chest still heaving.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers.

Still, after a whole year has passed, he manages to make you blush. “So are you.”

“So, beautiful girl. Can I please fuck you into this mattress now?”

~

After a sweaty night spent tangled together in the bedroom, you both rise for the day in search of coffee. As you walk into the kitchen, Sam pulls you into his arms and places a kiss to the top of your head.

“There’s the happy couple.” Josh beams at you from his seat at the table, a newspaper spread in front of him and a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Josh, you look like a Grandpa.” You giggle, making your way over to the pot of coffee on the counter.

“Just keeping up on current events.” He winks.

“You do know you can do that from your phone?” Sam sits down next to his sibling, gently elbowing him.

“I repel all technology, brother. I hardly use the thing.”

“Yeah, I know. You can barely text me back.”

You spend the morning making preparations for the evening. It was the usual course of action, a BBQ down at the lake and copious amounts of alcohol. You notice that Sam seems a bit on edge as the day rolls on, but put it down to the lack of sleep. You start getting yourself ready, applying some light makeup and brushing your hair up into a ponytail, curling the ends and your bangs to frame your face. You pull out the cute romper you’ve been saving for the occasion from your bag. It is made from white cheesecloth, but with a corset style waist that cinches you in perfectly. You slip on your converse and spray on some perfume, then you’re ready.

You all traipse down to the lake, carrying bags filled with food, beer, and most importantly, fireworks. Rose and Hendrix come flying past you, chasing each other around in circles. As you watch them frolic together, you begin to set up the camping chairs and blankets, making up a cosy space for everyone to chill out on. Jake takes to the grill, popping the cap on a beer as he flips the burgers and hot dogs. Josh busies himself setting up the fireworks, like the pyromaniac he is.

“Who wants the first dog?” Jake calls out to the group.

“Shotgun!” Danny shouts back.

When the food is ready you all sit round in a circle, soaking up the last of the evening sun. Being here with them, your family, you feel so content and at peace with the world. Watching the brothers bicker and laugh together is such a special thing to witness, you’re so grateful to be a part of it. The bond that the four boys hold is beyond anything you’ve seen before. They’ve gone through thick and thin together. Heartbreak, grief, and the rocky road that is the rise to fame, but they’re still the same people they were before all that. Still the boys you knew, with the same morals and values. You realise in that moment that this was never about being home in Frankenmuth, because home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling. It’s the people that surround you with their love, the people that are there through it all.

You look up at Sam, tears welling up in your eyes. He meets your gaze with a soft smile, as if he’s thinking the exact same thing. He turns to his brothers, giving them a smile, then stands and extends his hand out to you.

You take it in yours, letting him pull you up onto your feet. “Where are we going?”

“Just for a walk.”

You get down to a secluded section of the lake, no one there but you and Sam. It’s so peaceful, with the whirr of festivities muffled in the background. There’s a gentle breeze which licks over your sunkissed skin, the delicious scent of coconut sunscreen and freshly mown grass carrying through it. You can see a blanket spread across the ground in front of you, with a bottle of Champagne and two glasses perched atop. Sam motions for you to sit down.

“Sam, what is all this?”

“Well, it’s a special occasion. Our one year anniversary.” He gives you a shy smile. “I have some things I’d like to say, if that’s ok?”

“Of course.” You breathe.

“One year ago, I accidentally let slip that I’d been in love for you since the moment I met you. In the moment, I was fully kicking myself, but now I’m so thankful that it happened. It brought me to you, in a way I could have only dreamed of. This year has been the best year of my life, having you by my side. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, inside and out. You look insanely gorgeous tonight, by the way.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don’t think you’ll ever truly understand how much you mean to me, but I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you in every way that I can. I love you, and I’ve planned this since that day a year ago. I’ve always known, and I hope to god you have too. So…”

He stands, pulling you up with him. He then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. He lowers himself down onto one knee and gazes up at you, the stars in the sky shining brightly in his eyes.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

Your hands fly up to your face as he opens the box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. There is a stunning marquise moss agate in the centre, with tiny diamonds adorning the band. It’s perfect.

“Yes, a million times yes.”

He places the ring onto your finger and stands before you, tears welling in his eyes. You fall into his arms, your own tears streaming down your face as you hold onto him. He kisses you softly then spins you around, coming behind you to hold your waist.

“Look up.”

As you glance upwards, the sky erupts with fireworks. You both watch the brightly coloured flashes together in your little bubble, bound together as one. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, and you swear that this is the happiest moment in your life so far.

The last firework that lights up the night sky explodes into the shape of a love heart, and you feel Sam squeeze you tighter. You turn to face him, tears glistening in both of your eyes.

“Forever.” You whisper.

“Forever.”

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Eighteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Some vague spiritual mentions, VERY LIGHT spooky theme, yearning, pining (can you tell it's a jake chapter?) anxious themes, slightly tense conversation? (not an argument don't worry) fluff fluff fluff fluff, may cause butterflies, a lot of physical touch type of affection, and certainly important: Jake is the definition of 'if he wanted to, he would.'

Word Count: 6k 🤭 (couldn't stop yapping this chapter)

Summary: Jake has a cute little surprise for Charlotte, which is why he insisted on her spending the night.

Author's Note: FOLKS- this one is fucking cute. The words just kept flowing and I think we're at a point in the story where this is going to be a trend. (We're in the home stretch, which makes me want to cry, but also-there's just so much to say in the chapters, that I don't foresee them getting much shorter from here on out!) I can't wait to see how you feel at the end 🤭 ((I'm sorry in advance, don't yell at me))

Crystal - Stevie Nicks "Like the love that had finally, finally found me, Then I knew, In the crystalline knowledge of you."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

God, it’s early. 

I managed to carefully slide out of bed without her waking up, which was already difficult because I wanted nothing more than just to stay curled up around her. But I need to be awake for a little bit before I surprise her today.

She told me when she was upset that her best friend and she had a tradition of going to Salem for her birthday every year. She wasn’t super into the spiritual side of things, but she loves Halloween, and with her birthday only being a few days before, she’s a bit biased. 

Unfortunately, this year, they never made it, and my heart shattered watching her tell me that the funeral was just a week prior to her birthday. I’ve never wanted just to squeeze someone harder than her at that moment.  When I had gone and talked to Josh, I had asked if he minded covering the bar that night because she was so upset and I didn’t have the heart to just.. let her be alone after that. But I told him that I would stop by the bar before I came home so I could talk to him about today. Thankfully, he was happy to take care of everything for the day, with the help of Danny. 

I sip on coffee as I figure out what I’m going to wear for the day, assuming that she will probably look nicer than my typical outfits. I know it doesn’t really matter what I’m wearing, but I want to make sure she has a good day and that I can manage not to look homeless sometimes. 

Grabbing a few things from my closet quietly, I sneak back out of my room so she can sleep for as long as possible. I drop them on the couch, deciding to really just go for it today. 

I pull my hair back into a bun, stealing a little more of Josh’s shaving cream, it’s not super grown in, but I may as well. Taking the time to make sure my face is clean-shaven before waking her. Remembering the fact she said I looked cute on Facetime after I shaved reluctantly, but if this is what she prefers, then I don’t mind.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I sit on the bed next to her, just watching her sleep for a minute. She’s curled up with my pillow, which she must have stolen when I left the room. I don’t want to wake her up; she looks so comfortable. 

Softly, I run my hand down the back of her head, and she doesn’t flinch at all. I gently scratched her back, hoping that the contact would help, but still, she didn’t budge. 

I lean down, kissing her temple and then whispering. “Hey you,” into her. Pressing slow, soft kisses into the side of her face. 

“Mmm..” her sleepy little groan made me laugh. 

Peppering a few more kisses against her cheek, mumbling, “Goodmorning.”

It takes her a minute, but she finally opens her eyes slightly and looks up at me. 

I whisper, “There she is.” 

“Why are you up?” She mumbles, reaching her arms out to me. Wrapping her up in a hug, she tucks her little face into me. Maybe we can just stay like this instead. 

“You should get dressed and come with me. I have a few things I need to do,” I tell her, hoping she’ll not fight it. 

“How dressed are we talking?” 

I sit up a little to look at her, “Um.. we’ll be like.. in public.. Does that help?” 

She touches my face, ignoring my answer, “Did you just shave?” 

“Mhm,” I respond, choking back a laugh. “Come on, sleeping beauty, don’t get distracted.” 

”Your face is soft,” she says quietly, as she’s running her hand down my cheek and holding my chin. 

“Just for you,” I giggle before leaning down and kissing her. “I have coffee for you, too.” 

“What are you up to?” She squints at me; there’s no way she’s figured it out already. 

My eyebrows pull together, “What do you mean?” 

“You’re being extra sweet this morning..” her voice trailing off. 

“Am I not allowed to be nice to you?” I laugh. “I can be mean if you’d prefer.”

She laughed with me this time, “I can’t even imagine that.” 

“I don’t think I could be mean to you if I tried.” I would never. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

While she’s getting herself together, I pull on the outfit I had picked out earlier. Cuffing the bottom of my pants so they sit nicely with the boots I’m about to grab. Am I hoping that she’ll think I look nice? Maybe. Opening the drawer of my nightstand, the few rings that I have and my watch sit there. I slide on one of the rings and decide to actually wear my watch today. Staring at myself in the mirror, I feel like I look kind of put together? I don’t think I could tell you the last time I tried this hard with an outfit. 

I’m sitting on the couch, just scrolling through emails, when I hear her walking out of the bathroom. I glance up from my phone as she walks over to me. 

Her voice was so low when she finally let out, “Okay, I’m ready.”

I take her in, her sweater tucked into a little plaid skirt, leaving her legs on display even if they’re covered by black tights. Even with a coat over it, she looks so good. I just quietly stand up, still looking at her but unable to form words. 

“Oh,” she squeaks, looking me up and down. “You look cute.” 

“Hah, thank you,” I can’t shake the nerves from my voice when I say it. “You–” I hesitate, not even knowing how to compliment her at the moment. 

“I’m what?” 

“You just look,” I start, glancing down at her again. “Wow.” 

She giggles at me as I struggle to find words, “Stop it!” 

I shake my head as if it’ll help me refocus. I wasn’t prepared for her to be able to look like this on a whim. 

“Alright, you, let’s go.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Once we’re in the car, I hand her my phone, letting her pick whatever for music. I had already put an address into my maps, just to at least get me to Salem– assuming that she would have something picked out by the time we got there. We hardly make it to the turnpike before I feel her staring at me. 

“Jacob,” she pauses, “Where are we going?”

“Well,” I glanced over at her for a second. “You said you always went to Salem around your birthday and that you hadn’t gone this year because of everything going on so..” 

“Wait- really?” Her voice was small. 

I reach over, resting my hand on her thigh, “Mhm. I figured it’s not fair for you not to do anything for your birthday, and I’m sure you already know some things you like to do there.” 

She leans over the center console, kissing my cheek a few times before letting a small “thank you” squeak out. 

“Of course,” I can feel my face warm, squeezing her leg a few times.  Her hand holds my forearm gently, and the little bit of contact gives me butterflies. 

“I’m assuming you’ve been to Salem?”

“Not in a long time, so whatever you want to do will basically be new to me.” Her eyes light up, and she quickly grabs her phone. 

She’s quiet for a few minutes, just buried in her phone until she holds it out in front of me, “Loook! We could do this!”  I pull it closer so I can actually see; it’s a video of people getting their aura photos done. 

“We can, if you want,” I tell her. 

She’s precious; the way her face lights up when she’s excited makes me want to just give her everything and anything she wants. 

She spent a lot of the drive there finding little things that we could do and excitedly telling me about them. Even if I had to keep reassuring her that whatever she chose was fine. I don’t think she’s used to people doing things for her.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Her voice is quiet when she asks, “Can we get coffee?” as if she thinks I’ll say no.

“Mhm,” I hum back. “Just pick where from.” The way she gets shy asking for things makes me laugh to myself. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Mhmm,” I giggle, looking over at her. “Whatever you want, Char.” 

After finding the one she had decided on, I listened to her try and decide which drink she wanted to try; the way she was tied between the two made me laugh.

“Whichever one you get, I’ll get the other one,” I whisper to her. 

Her head whips over, “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” 

“I don’t mind,” 

We finally move up to order; I make her go first so I can order the other drink she didn’t pick. Avoiding looking at her when I could almost feel the wind from how fast she snapped her neck to look at me. I pull out my wallet and quickly pay as her jaw slacks open, staring at me. 

“What?” 

“You just-” 

My eyebrows raise as she hesitates, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well,” her voice is low, looking at the ground for a second. “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to a table. “I’ll go grab the drinks; make yourself comfortable.”

I pull out my phone while I wait for our drinks to be made. Clicking on the app for our cameras, which I honestly don’t really look at often. I can just look real quick, so I don’t have to bug them. 

Switching between the few, everything seems normal, but I still feel compelled to check my texts. Nothing. 

Me: hey, if you need anything just let me know okay? 

Me: Also, daniel will be there around like 4pm so you won’t have to close alone

Josh: i know! don’t worry about us just go have fun with your lady! 

‘Jake’ gets called, and it pulls me out of my phone. I grab our drinks and wander back over to the table. Her hands reach out as soon as I get close to her; she’s almost vibrating with excitement over it. 

She sips on her drink, letting out little ‘mmm’s as she does. It’s unfair how adorable she is. Thankful that the drink I chose wasn’t terrible, I finally tried it, realizing that she had her eyes locked on me. 

“Here,” I hand her my drink, her eyes lighting up as she takes it from me. The fact she didn’t hesitate to sip on it gives me butterflies. You would think I’d never kissed her with the way my body reacts to basic things she does. 

Josh: do we have more downeast somewhere or is this it 

Josh: it’s not urgent just whenever you get a second 

Mel: do you want me to go in at all? I can just help out if you don’t want me to make drinks. 

‘Motion Detected’  notifications from Josh opening the bar sit on my lock screen. 

“Hey,” she says, bringing me back to reality. Her hand reaching up and tapping in between my eyebrows lightly, “What’s going on?” 

“Just have a bunch of texts from Josh about the bar,” I tell her, trying not to let my eyebrows pull back together. 

Her eyes look between mine as we sit there, “Everything is going to be fine. Danny won’t let the bar burn down.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I tell her, sliding my phone into my pocket. “Where would you like to go first?”

“Do you want to see some of the witch trial sites?” She asks.  “Or is it too spooky for you?” Followed with a slight giggle as she looked at me. 

“Oh, don’t start with me,” I laugh before deciding to tease her back. “I’ll hold your hand if you get too scared, though.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I can tell she really enjoys it here because she can just glance at her maps and then know where to wander off to. She really seems in her element getting to bring me to all these sites. Almost makes me wonder if this is what they would do every year. Telling me about everything that happened in each of the spots. She made sure to point out little details that she really enjoyed. 

My phone has vibrated a few times, and I’m genuinely fighting demons, trying not to look at what it is. Everything is fine. Dan is there. It’s okay. I spend a minute trying to shake the thought and refocus on her as we walk through a little bit of the cemetery. 

“Not too scared yet, are you?” she taunts. 

A slight grin sneaks onto my face, “And what if I was?” 

“Oooohhh, poor baby,” she teases me further, her hand running over my cheek. I know she’s trying to be funny, but hearing her call me ‘baby’ makes my knees weak. The way her lips pouted when she said it also made me wish I could just kiss her freely. 

“I offer to hold your hand, and you just make fun of me?” I let out dramatically. “I see how it is.” Hearing her laugh is worth having to be a bit dramatic. I pout my lip out at her as she giggles at me. 

“I’d take it back,” She starts. “But, you’re cute when you do this.” She taps my bottom lip gently, and I can’t stop the grin that forms when she does. Maybe I am scared. 

“Where else do you want to show me? Or are we just trying to pick up some spirits to bring home with us?” 

She finds a few that she hadn’t been to in a while, leading the way. I would gladly follow her around even if she were lying to me about every single thing. She kept touching my arm when she would tell me things, and it was taking everything in me to stay calm about it. It’s not that deep, Jake. Chill out. I try to tell myself, and then she tells me the history of the next place, and her hand lingers on my bicep for a minute, which makes all the hair on my body stand. 

I can feel my phone vibrating in my pocket as we walk to another spot that she’s excited about. It’s not important. They have everything under control. I try to ignore the feeling and focus on her. But the incessant vibration against my leg is making it difficult. 

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

For fucks sake, what could be happening? 

I pull out my phone for what feels like the thousandth time, seeing a handful of notifications sitting there. 

Josh: imagine I just get super drunk because it’s slow!! 

Josh: i’m so kidding 

Josh: or am I? the world will never know.

Danny: Please just ignore Josh. He’s cackling like a witch behind the bar so I know he’s being a little shit. 

Josh (in the Caravel Chat) : Hear me out- We just close early today for fun!

Sam: why is josh asking me to come help him lol 

Quinn: Did you leave Josh alone at the bar? 

Danny: Everything is fine I swear.

Sam: actually if you pay me for the night, i’ll do it 

Staring at all the texts that have come in, I can’t fight the way my hand rubs over my face. As I’m trying to decide what to respond to first, I feel her hand grab my arm. 

“Babe,” she says, squeezing me gently. My heart is simultaneously pounding at her casual pet name but also aches at the look on her face. Get off your phone, you dumbass. 

Locking my phone and shoving it into my pocket, I look back at her, “I’m so sorry.”

She gently grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her, “I think it’s wonderful how much you care about your job, but they can handle it.” 

“No, no, you’re right. I’m still sorry, and I promise I’ll stop,” comes out a bit sadder sounding than I expected. She leans up, placing a kiss on my cheek. 

“It’s okay,” she says quietly, “I just want you to have fun too.” 

“I am,” I whisper. “Come on, the aura photos are calling our names.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I pull open the door to the little shop that offers the photos, letting her excitedly go in first. She doesn’t go far, just waiting for me to come in with her. There’s someone already talking to the girl working there, so we just wander around looking at the selection of crystals and stones they have. She’s kept herself close to me while I pick up random crystals to look at them closer. Is she nervous? She has such a strong personality when it comes to her job, which I know is part of the gig for her, but it’s interesting to see how she acts when she doesn’t have to be in charge. The fact she has been attached to me from the moment we walked in is throwing me off. 

Hearing the door chimes ring, the girl behind the counter glances over at us. 

“Hi! Did you have any questions?” her voice was bubbly. 

I feel her gently tap my arm, seeing her stare at me from the corner of my eye. I have to fight the laugh when I realize she wants me to ask.

“Actually, yes,” I start. “Is there any chance we can get our aura photos done?” 

“Oh, absolutely!” She says. “Did you want individual ones?” 

“Please,” I tell her. “If you have time, obviously.” 

She laughs boisterously, “Lucky for the two of you– after Halloween, we die off so quickly! I have so much time; I don’t know what to do with myself.” 

She brings us to the area they have set up, explaining the process and how it works before having Charlotte sit down first. She’s so graceful as she gets situated. So, she carefully made sure her hands were in the right place after adjusting her hair a few times. The girl working here was so friendly and was talking her through it to help make sure that she was relaxed, so she got an authentic reading. 

I don’t know what it is about her that is so incredibly captivating, but the entire time, I can’t look away from her. I stand far enough out of the way that she can’t see me, but all I can think is– she is effortlessly beautiful. The feeling I get when I look at her scares me; my heart races, and the way my stomach turns. The witch trial sites could never compare. 

It only takes a few minutes before we’re swapping spots. She, on the other hand, stays within eyeshot for me. Doing everything I can to focus on the employee and not her, I feel myself calm down a bit. The girl leans down to take the photo, and I can see Charlotte in my peripheral. With the soft smile on her face, as she watches, I find myself unable to hold back the full smile as I hear the shutter of the camera.

“If you want, I can give you guys a little explanation of what your colors mean!” The girl offers, and we have the time to kill, so we obviously take her up on the offer. 

  We follow her back up to the counter, where she slides both of our photos over to us. My eyes go to her right away; our colors are not the same at all. 

“Ladies first,” the girl says, nudging Char’s photo forward a bit. “You have quite a bit of red in here, dear. Red typically represents a passionate, intense, loyal person. Depending on the shade of red, it can also have some romantic representations as well.” 

I glance over as Charlotte is just beaming at this girl while she explains. “You also have a little bit of a deeper purple in there, which means you may have something that is bothering you. Some sort of obstacle that you need to overcome.” 

Oh no. My hand finds hers, lightly tapping just to let her know I’m still there. She so softly wraps her hand around my index finger, squeezing a few times, almost like a ‘thank you.’

“And now for you,” the girl taps my photo forward. “You have majority green, which is usually characterized by the person’s nurturing disposition. You embody compassion and understanding. Since yours is also more of a mint green, you must be someone who just radiates peace and serenity to those around you.”

Charlotte’s soft laugh, “Sounds about right.”

“You’re obviously welcome to look up more about the meanings behind the colors! I just figured I would give you a baseline of what they mean,” she tells us.

“No, thank you so much for that, actually,” Charlotte finally chimes in.

The girl chuckles as she runs my card for everything, looking at me as she hands it back, “You know it’s kinda cute; your aura colors complement each other well.” Shooting me a wink as she glances down at the photos. Why is she trying to torture me?

There’s no way my face isn’t a little red at her comment, and then I glance over at her; the subtle pink in her cheeks makes me feel less insane. But is she just embarrassed, or is she into that? 

“Thank you again,” I tell her as we go to leave, pushing the door open for Charlotte to go out first.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Where to next?” 

Her excitement is palatable, “Oooo, I have an idea!” 

I watch her as she leads me to another little shop that she likes to look through. My heart feels.. different as I watch her. Seeing her get excited over these things that she looks forward to year after year, the way she just beams back at me like I’m the one who founded this town. She keeps holding my hand, and even when she lets go to show me something, she always finds her way back to it. She walks so close that she bumps into me constantly. Okay so.. I have a crush on her.. But how could I not? 

Her sweet face when she turns to me with something that she’s found. I don’t know what’s worse, the soft sparkle in her eyes or trying to focus on anything beyond how perfectly painted her freckles are over her nose. Her little voice every time, ‘Jacob look!’ she would whisper, made me laugh to myself. 

“Do you want it?” I whisper after she’s shown me just about everything in the store. 

And she’s suddenly shy again. 

“No, no, it’s just cute,” she tries to backpedal. 

I take the dainty chain bracelet from her, “It’s very cute.” Inspecting it closer, knowing I’m going to just hold onto it even if she tries to fight me on it. She can’t just show me a million things and think I’m not going to offer to get one of them, at the very least, for her.

I go to set the bracelet back in its place, “Do you want to keep looking around?”

She nods quickly, grabbing my free hand gently. As soon as she turns her head, I pull the bracelet back to me, keeping it tucked in my hand so she doesn’t see it. 

We spent a few more minutes wandering around with her, continuing the same routine of finding something she liked and turning to show me. 

“We can go,” her soft voice rings as we’re walking towards the front. 

I look over at her, fighting the urge to smile, “Give me like two minutes.” 

Walking up to the counter, I hand the bracelet to the employee, knowing there’s no way she isn’t going to notice. Her hand tightened around mine as they dropped the bracelet into a little paper bag, handing it over to me with my receipt. 

Tugging her behind me as we leave, I turn to her, holding out the bag, “For you.” 

“You’re so–” She starts, but pouting her lip when she’s stumped for words. “Thank you, babe.” 

Please just keep calling me that. If I thought her pet naming me woud be bad, I was severely unprepared. 

“Can you help me?” She sweetly asks, holding up the ends of the bracelet to me. 

I grab them from her, and she holds out her wrist for me. Something about the motion of clasping this little chain on her feels like time has slowed. The look on her face, her skin is so soft, and the dainty bracelet looks so perfect on her. I turn it around to see the little charm that’s on it, just holding her wrist for a second. ‘Crush’ may not be the word anymore.   ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

We spent a little while wandering in and out of shops throughout the little street. As we walk further, the iconic Witch House comes into view. A giant black house with three distinct peaks in the roof, it’s hard to miss, but she still points it out to me. 

“Ooooh! We used to take cute pictures in front of it every year.” 

“Are you saying that you want a picture?”

“Maybe,” She grabs my hand, tugging me along with her. She pulls her phone from her bag, and I reach my hand out, thinking that she just wants me to take it. “No, come here.” 

She pulled me close to her and reached out to take a picture of us. She wants.. a picture of the two of us? My arm wraps around her waist gently as she tucks herself into me; she beams at the camera; her smile could light up a room at this moment. 

“You better show off those teeth, Jacob,” she says, making me chuckle to myself. Smiling but looking at her, I can see her clicking the shutter button out of the corner of my eye. 

“Um, do you guys want me to take one for you?” a stranger quietly interjects as they’re passing by. 

“Oooh, yes!” she quickly hands them her phone. Okay, we’re doing this now, haha, that’s so fine. 

She comes back to me, leaning into my side and letting her hand rest on my stomach. Oh, uh.  My arm pulls her into me, and my hand sits on her lower back; I can feel her staring at me, so I glance over. Her lips pulled into the cutest smile; I swear she could feel my heart pounding. Her eyes dropped to my mouth and then back up, making me fully smile at her. 

“Perfect,” she whispers as she looks over at the person, but I don’t want to stop looking at her. I force my head to turn away from her. I looked over to the camera and felt her leaning against me slightly. It takes two seconds before they start walking back over with her phone. She clicks on her camera roll, quickly swiping through them and thanking the person for helping. She turns to me as she looks through them again. 

“Stop, this one’s so cute,” she turns it to me. They caught me looking at her.. We look like a couple; my stomach tenses at the thought. I... Watching as she sends me a bunch of them, taking a second to favorite a couple of them so she doesn’t lose them. “Oh wait, this one too!”  The one moment of her looking at me, her hand sitting on my stomach and full teeth smile on display, looking right at her– my heart flutters at the sight of it. I hadn’t considered how we look together.. from someone else’s point of view. I look like I’m in lo—.

She cuts me off, “Do you want to get some food? I don’t know how late you planned on being here, but at least then, we aren’t starving on the drive home.”

“Um, yeah, we probably should,” I stumble over my words for a second. “Was there somewhere you had in mind?” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

We wandered around for a bit trying to decide what we wanted. It probably would have gone quicker if we focused and weren’t talking about all the things in the window displays as we passed them. But the way she hardly let go of my hand the entire time, I wasn’t about to stop her from doing whatever it is she wanted. 

We almost walked past the restaurant she decided that she wanted to try, but I think if you looked hard enough, you would have seen the smoke from how fast she hit the brakes when she realized it was next to us. It was a treat for me to see her so.. joyful. 

The server dropping off our drinks and taking our order, we have time to just stare at each other and I listen to her tell me how she’s been looking at this place on instagram for a while. 

I finally ask, “Was this a good surprise at least?” 

“Are you kidding? Of course it was,” she said, leaning forward with a sweet little grin on her lips. 

“I know it’s not the same, but—“ 

She stops me quickly, “If I didn't think she’d hear me, I’d say it might be even better.“ Don’t tell me that. 

“I don’t know about that,” 

“Hey,” she almost scolds me. “It was very sweet of you– no but’s allowed.” 

I giggle at the tone of her voice, knowing she would absolutely yell at me if I kept going. The server dropped off our food quietly as we kept talking about the little things we saw today. She kept asking what I liked most, and I couldn’t be honest because it was just getting to be with her.  She told me about how she and Cass would always try to find new things every year, but they also just enjoyed wandering through the same historical sites because it was just interesting to see. 

“Are you still panicking over the bar?” She asks, scooting her plate away from her. 

It hits me that I’ve been distracted enough that I hadn’t even looked at my phone. 

“Actually.. I hadn’t thought about it,” I tell her. 

She fakes a gasp at me, “Well, look at that.”

“Growing up so fast,” I giggle.  Or it could be the fact I spent the whole day getting to watch a beautiful girl smile at me for bringing her here. 

“Proud of you,” she whispers with her foot grazing my leg. 

She’s absolutely killing me. 

Our server came over with our bill, and I had just held my hand out for the little black folder. I slid my card in without hesitation and handed it back to them. I quietly let out a small ‘Thank you’ as they took the small folder away from me. I look back over to her, and the pink tint to her cheeks is more noticeable than I’m sure she’d like. What is she blushing over? 

“You okay?” 

“Mhm,” she hums back.

“You sure?” 

“Yes,” she laughs. “..just you.” 

The server comes back with the folder, taking my card out. I can feel her stare as she watches me sign the receipt and slide cash into the folder for their tip. I look up at her and softly ask, “You ready?” Letting her lead the way out, my hand found its place on her lower back, trying to keep her close to me. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“It’s so cute here when it’s dark out,” she says as she’s looking at all the shops lit up now that the sun is set. 

I just watch her take everything in, the pure joy on her face, and my heart feels like it’s melting for the hundredth time today. She slides her hand into mine, leaning into my arm and wrapping her free hand over my bicep as we walk. What is she doing? 

“Thank you for everything today,” She squeaks out. 

I look over, placing a kiss on the side of her head, “You’re very welcome.” 

She stops walking, tugging my arm lightly. I turn around to face her when she closes the gap between us. Tilting her head back slightly as she leans into my chest, leaving a few sweet kisses against my lips. 

“I’ve been waiting for that all day,” she mumbles into me. She’s been waiting? I COULD HAVE DONE THAT SOONER?

“I’m sorry, hun,” I mumble back. “I’ll just have to make up for it now.” Earning the biggest smile out of her, making me laugh at how eager she just got. 

“In that case,” she laughs, wiggling herself out of my arms but grabbing my hand instead. “Let’s go, baby!” 

After a lovely little walk filled with giggles and a few more pit stops that she insisted on just to give me a kiss, we finally made it to the car. I can see her trying to readjust to be more comfortable, moving her legs around every which way. 

I look over at her, letting out a small ‘hey’ before patting my leg. I reach over, carefully grabbing her ankles and pulling her legs out over my lap. We sit in the comfortable quiet for a bit, whatever song she’s chosen playing softly while she just looks through her phone. My hand hasn’t left her since I moved her legs. Rubbing little circles on her ankle or just sliding up the side of her foot. Anything to keep some sort of contact, and she doesn’t seem to mind. 

She reaches over, lightly running her fingertips over my cheek. It’s hard not to smile at it; she’s so fucking cute. 

“Your face is still so soft,” she giggles. 

“I wanted to look nice,” I admit. 

She rebuttals quickly, “You always look nice.” 

“Mmm,” I start. “But standing next to you all day, I wanted to make sure I at least looked half as good as you.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive home felt short in comparison, but the lack of anxiety I felt this time probably helped. We immediately head up to the apartment, surprisingly avoiding the bar.

“Sooo..” I start, keeping my voice low as I sneak up behind her, sliding my arms around her waist. “The bar doesn’t close for a couple more hours..” 

She twists around in my arms to face me, “Jacob, you’re not about to go to work right now.”

“That wasn’t my thought, but thank you for that,” I let out in the most monotone voice. 

“Oh! Are you turning a new leaf already? One day of me pestering you to stop working is all it took?” She teases me with a little smirk plastered on her face. 

“You really don’t have to make fun of me,” I say, letting my hands settle on her hips. “But, yes— maybe it helped.“

Her hands held the sides of my face, “It is nice to just enjoy you outside of the bar.” 

I mumble back, “Is that so?” 

“Mhm,” Her body leans into me. “I don’t have to share you with anyone else this way.” You’re not sharing me in there either, trust me. 

“Are you trying to say you want more attention?”  I question her. 

“From you? Absolutely,” her voice is so sexy; my body feels like it’s on fire. I want quite literally nothing more than to do that.

Pulling her into me, I whisper, “What kind of attention do you want, hun?” 

“Mmmm…” She hums, before her head tilts slightly and with a delicious little smile on her lips. And then she whispers, “You’re full of surprises today; why don’t you decide, babe?” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Nineteen

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[gretavangroupie]

Drift

Word count: 7.2k+

Pairing: Josh x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fluff.

 “Two percent?!” you screech.

Looking down at the cellphone in your lap as you follow the winding directions you see the red battery icon and your anxiety starts to bloom. Your signal has been spotty at best and the constant in and out of service has drained your battery quicker than anticipated. With another hour to go you are starting to panic. Of course your phone would die while you are somewhere in the mountains. 

It started snowing last night, and unfortunately has stuck around. So when the snow didn’t stop this morning you knew you would be in for an eventful drive home. Six inches turned into ten very quickly, and the roads were becoming slick. Your little sedan was not equipped for this type of weather, something you were pretty sure you wouldn't experience in Nashville but boy were you wrong.  

The two lane road you found yourself upon currently was slightly off the beaten path, on the side of a mountain. Houses sprinkled in here and there, with their long winding driveways, painted white in a wintery scene. In different circumstances you would think it was quite beautiful, but right now, your white knuckle grip on the steering wheel has made you feel differently. Your windshield wipers are going full blast, further obscuring your view of the winding back road. You glance down to your phone to check the directions.

Four miles until you turn right.

As you read the directions out, you're met with a loud thump as your car moves 60 miles per hour over a perfectly placed pot hole, jostling you, your car and its contents.

“Shit!” you cry out as your head bounced back on the headrest.

Reaching down to pick your phone up off the floor, you type in your password and unlock it. But that was all it took. That measly 1% was gone in an instant. Panic swept over you, all you knew was that you had 4, maybe 3 miles now until you turn right. But what about the rest of the directions?

Okay, next shopping center I see, I will stop and grab a car charger. 

The snow is falling quickly, and the sun is setting, leaving you to only rely on the light from your hi beams. You swallow thickly as you squint to see the lines on the road. You haven’t seen a car pass you in what feels like forever. 

I knew it was a bad idea to get off the interstate.

You saw it, but it was too late. You couldn't react in time. If you slammed on your breaks your car would go sliding into the ravine. So you hit it. Whatever it was. It looked like a crow bar or some type of bent metal. That's what it sounded like too. As your car met with the object you heard a loud popping and you knew your night just got ten times worse. Your car began to limp further down the road with a metallic clatter against the wet asphalt.

You see a driveway in the distance and decide to push forward to pull into it, against your better judgment. As you pull off into the entry of the long driveway you put your car in park and immediately get out and see that your front left tire is completely blown out. The combination of the pothole earlier, and whatever that metal thing was, has left you stranded in the drift of someone's driveway. 

You get back into your car and grab your phone, realizing that it died 15 minutes ago. As you sit back into the seat you rub your hands over your face and wonder what you did to deserve this. You turn on your hazard lights and pray that someone drives by and stops. But you know the likelihood of that happening is slim. Anyone with half a brain knows better than to drive in conditions like this. 

As you wrack your brain for what to do, it occurs to you. 

Maybe, there is someone in the house at the end of this driveway…

You know that this area that you are in is home to most peoples vacation homes, tucked deep into the side of the mountain. The chances of someone being here are small, but not zero. You grab your coat out of the backseat and put it on. From the looks of it, this driveway is fairly long and the snow is piled high and growing by the minute.

Turning off your car, you grab your dead cell phone, and your keys and get out. Now that the sun had set it was dark, and the wind was cutting like a thousand knives. You lock your useless car and shove your keys into your coat pocket. You pull your hood over your head and thank yourself for choosing a pair of sensible boots this morning. 

As you walk the long snowy, gravel lined driveway you think to yourself that it must be a mile long, and uphill at that. Just as you think it could stretch on for another mile, you see a soft yellow light ahead of you. A light is on in the house. 

Oh my god, someone is here.

Knowing that the house more than likely is warm, has your feet picking up their pace and landing you at the edge of the trees, opening up to the clearing where the occupied house sits. There is one car parked outside of the house and you can hear the soft vibrations of noise from inside. The house is large, old, and wooden. You can see that there are two stories and the ivy growing on the side of the house gives it a certain type of rustic charm you don't see too often anymore. There is smoke filling the air, coming from a chimney, and huge glass windows adorn the entire front of the house.  

As you step up to the porch you brush the snow off of your coat and hood, pulling your frozen hand out of your pocket and nervously knocking on the black wooden front door.  

The large glass window set into the door has you holding your breath as you see a figure approaching from across the house. Pulling a hoodie over their torso, they peer through the glass to see you standing there and run their hand over their face, as the door opens.

“How did you get this address?” he says. 

You nervously stare back at him, “I– I didn’t…my car –I hit something. My phone is dead– I…” you stammer.

“You hit something?!” he asks, shocked.

“Yeah, it was dark, and the snow – I couldn't see. I think it was a crowbar or something.” you reply anxiously.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking concerned.  

“Yeah, I am okay. I am so sorry to bother you. My front tire blew out and my phone is dead so I can’t call Triple A…Do you think I could borrow your phone or, could you call, or…” you stammer.

“Yes, absolutely, come in. It’s freezing.” he says, opening the door. You can feel the warmth radiating from inside and graciously step into the house.

“Do you have your phone? I can plug it in?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah!” you say fumbling into your coat pocket and handing him the freezing device. 

“My god, your hands are freezing! Here, come sit here by the fire.” he says, leading you from the front door, and into the open, spacious living room. He points to the couch next to the fireplace and says he will be right back. He runs up the wooden staircase and you can hear some banging around upstairs before you see him quickly flying back down the stairs, waving a phone charger in his hand. 

You look around the house, and are intrigued by the charm of the renovated old home. The cobblestone fireplace, the wooden beams adorning nearly every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s a split level home but it has an open floor plan, granting you visual access to almost every part of the house. Small sets of stairs lead to various rooms and loft areas. It’s a very uniquely designed floor plan, and you are interested in the history of the home. Admiring its charming old quality, your eyes flit around but stop when you see the massive windows. You are instantly taken with the wall of windows providing a picturesque view of the snowy scene outside. It’s very charming and you find yourself relaxing into the cozy couch by the fireplace, staring into the snowy sight. 

“Better?” he asks, walking down the steps into the living room, before sitting in a chair across from you. 

Realizing how you must look, you shoot straight up and fix your posture. “Oh, yeah. Yes. Thank you. This is a really cool home.” you say nervously fidgeting with your coat. 

“Oh, thank you, I moved in about two years ago now. Still fixing things up here and there. Trying to bring it up to date without losing its rustic qualities.” he smiles. “I’m Josh by the way.”

“Oh, god, how rude I didn't even ask your name before I made myself at home on your couch.” you laugh. You introduce yourself and shake his hand, which is much warmer than yours and oddly soft. The room is dimly lit by the floor lamp in the corner and the small fixtures illuminating the bookcase in the upstairs loft. The fireplace is glowing brightly behind you. You can see the flames dancing along rhythmically in his eyes. Honey brown and glossy, he must have been drinking before you interrupted his night. 

“When my phone turns on, I will call Triple A and I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” you say biting your lip.

“What in the world are you doing driving in this weather?” he asks.

“I was driving back home. I went to visit my parents for the week. The traffic on 40 was so bad, I decided to take a back road thinking it would be faster, but then I got lost and my phone was dying, then this happened... It was not a good choice in hindsight.” you laugh. 

“You’re brave. I’m from Michigan and even I wouldn’t be driving right now.” he smiles, his cheeks scrunching tightly beneath his eyes.

He is sort of…cute. Maybe in different circumstances…

“I know, it’s not too much farther…I think? I feel really bad that I interrupted your night.” you say pointing to the movie that is paused on the TV screen.

“Ahh, don’t worry about it. I’ve seen it a thousand times.” he says, waving his hand in the air.

You focus on it, and recognize the character on the screen. “Is– Is it A Clockwork Orange?” you ask, suspiciously.

He seems taken aback as he replies, “Yeah. Yeah it is…” a twinkle of intrigue in his eyes.

“Cool, that's a great film.” you say, politely.

A small smile forms at the side of his mouth, “Yeah, it really is...” he looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself.

Why do I feel like I am supposed to be here?

“Well, I should go see if my phone is turned on. I have bothered you long enough.” you say standing up, and walking up the small set of stairs into the kitchen. 

“It’s on the kitchen counter by the fridge.” he calls out to you.

As you grab your phone you see it has come back to life, and you quickly dial out the number for Triple A. You lean over onto the counter as the call rings out. You stare out the windows at the snow still continuing to fall and explain to the man on the phone exactly what happened.

“What do you mean…But I don’t…. I can’t get anywhere…. Okay. Alright. Yeah, thank you.” you end the call staring at the screen dumbfounded. 

As you stand there silently trying to figure out your next move you see Josh walk into the kitchen to join you at the counter. He leans his hip onto the countertop, facing you.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his curly brown hair falling onto his forehead. 

You turn to face him and with a blank face you set your phone back on the counter. “No. Apparently they can’t send any trucks out until the morning after they plow the roads. The snow is too bad on the mountain?” you question.

He shakes his head, “Yeah, I was afraid of that. Listen, I don’t want to sound forward but, you are welcome to stay here until the morning. I have a guest room, and anything you might need.” he says kindly.

“Oh wow, that is so nice of you to offer, but I really feel like I am intruding. I mean, you don’t even know me.” you say. 

“The alternative is what? You sleeping in your freezing cold car? No. I know we don’t know each other, but I am a human being and from one human being to another, please. Stay. You can leave as soon as you’d like in the morning. They should have the roads plowed by 7:00.” he says, scratching the back of his neck. 

You stop for a second to think, but something is pulling you to stay. 

“Are you positive that I am in no way putting you out?” you ask, hesitantly.

“Absolutely not. Glad to lend a helping hand. I mean, you must be alright if you knew I was watching A Clockwork Orange.” he smiles.

You nod your head, agreeing and his face lights up with a smile.

“Should we… finish it?” he asks. You bite your lip and stare at him. You know his brown puppy dog eyes have never been rejected in his life. You can feel it.

“Okay, I guess we could. But can I use the bathroom first?” you ask.

“Oh, of course. If you step through that guest room, it’s in there.” he says pointing across the kitchen. 

“Thank you.” you say nervously.

As you make your way into the bathroom, you quickly relieve yourself and wash your hands, noticing the eclectic artwork hanging on the walls in the bedroom. He has very interesting taste in furniture and decor, but it kind of fits the feel of the house perfectly.  As you make your way back into the living room you step down into the warm space, and see Josh waiting for your return sitting on one side of the couch with his feet crossed on the coffee table. 

“All good?” he asks, he has noticed you have removed your coat and grants you a smile.

“Yeah, thanks. I am sure you didn’t see your night going this way.” you laugh as you sit down on the opposite side of the couch. But you feel it. A magnetism to be closer to him. 

What? You don't even know him…

“You’re right I didn’t but I’m kinda glad it did.” he smirks with sultry eyes.

Maybe he feels it too…

You feel your cheeks blush as he unpauses the movie, and it roars back to life. 

You spend the next hour talking instead of watching the movie, discussing the theories surrounding it and even further discussing Stanley Kubrick. You have a lot of the same opinions on his work and career. Josh is super knowledgeable about film making and even tells you how it was always his dream to be a filmmaker himself. Your heart warms at the fact that he is passionate enough to tell a complete stranger about his dreams.

You talk until the fire in the fireplace dies down and you find yourselves sitting in a dark living room, lit only by the small lamps on the book case. 

He looks over at you and stares for a second, “Let me go grab you some clothes for you to sleep in, I'll be right back.” 

“Oh, that's not necessary, I will be okay, really. I can just sleep in this.” you reply.

“Please, I insist.” he says standing and walking up the stairs, his bare feet padding up the wooden steps. 

You stand awkwardly in the living room, waiting for him to return. You walk over to the windows and stare out at the snow, still falling. You walk back into the living room, and notice the bookcase on the second floor loft. You look around to see if Josh is coming back and when you see that he isn't, you make your way up the stairs and over to the full book shelves. 

Browsing the titles you see a lot of classics. You run your index finger over the spines, stopping on names you recognize. The leather bound books are beautifully displayed and lit with tiny sconces on the front of the shelves. Bending down to look at the next row of books, you are surprised when you notice Josh standing next to you.

“Well, what do you think? Any good ones?” he laughs.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn't mean to pry. Well, actually. Maybe I did.” you smile. “But yeah, all the classics, you are well read.”

“I spend a lot of time traveling, and books are a great way to pass the time. I pull a lot of inspiration from these old books.” he says. He reaches a stack of clothes out to you and your hands brush his. You both recoil and look at each other like you have been zapped by lightning.

Surely he felt that?

You grab the stack from him, and look down. “Thank you.”

He bites his cheek like he wants to say something, but again, doesn’t.

“Come on, I will show you the guest room and get you some blankets.” he says, gesturing for you to follow him.

After a few minutes he has retrieved a few blankets for you and provided you with an extra phone charger, handing them to you with a soft smile. In the dim lighting you can see the dimple that forms in his cheek, perfectly situated above a tiny scar.

“I will turn the heat on a little warmer, sometimes it gets cold because of the windows. If you need me, I’m at the top of the stairs to the left.” he smiles, and shuts the door behind him.

You sit on the bed examining the pile of clothes he has so graciously brought you. A long sleeve white tee shirt and a pair of well loved sweatpants. You peel your clothes off of you, and slide into the much comfier attire. Maybe he was right, this will be warmer.

You plug your phone into the charger and spread the extra blanket over the twin size bed. You flip the switch on the wall and climb into the bed. You lay there hearing the wind whip against the old house. You think about your evening and how it went so completely different than you imagined. You are sleeping in a stranger's bed? The room is quiet except for the sound of the snow falling on the windows. You drift off to sleep and think of the beautiful curly haired man sleeping right above you. 

You wake yourself up shivering. Your eyes open and you're met with total darkness. The light from the alarm clock long gone, the air growing colder by the second. The distant whirr of the refrigerator reduced to nothing. The power must have gone out. Your feet are frozen, hands too. Trying to pull the blankets closer to yourself you realize they are already as close as they could be. Your body shivers under the sheets. If only you had some socks you could make it through until morning. 

You lay there for a few minutes trying to rub your feet together to create some warmth, but nothing was working. Your brain remembers the fire in the living room. It had been a few hours since it had gone out, but surely the hearth was still warm. You grab your phone, and turn on the flashlight, illuminating the floor below you. You quietly twist the door knob on the old door, and tiptoe through the hallway into the kitchen. Looking around, you see that the power is definitely out. Walking quietly down the small set of steps you find a place on the hearth of the fireplace, only to find that it too, has grown cold.

Rubbing your freezing cold hands together you think back to what Josh told you. ‘If you need anything, I’m up the stairs to the left.’ You think about going up there to ask for socks but quickly talk yourself out of it. As you look out the large windows it seems the snow has finally stopped falling, but it has accumulated quite a few inches. More than likely making the power fail. 

You scroll through your phone on the couch, but your service is weak. You can't get anything to load. Tiredness begins to creep in on you as the stinging stiffness in your hands and feel remind you of their temperature. 

Okay, just do it. Just go ask for some socks. Tell him the power is out. He will understand. 

Setting your phone on the coffee table you swallow deeply and quietly make your way up to cold wooden stairs. When you reach the landing you turn to his door, which isn’t a door at all. There is no door, it’s just an open archway. The sight in front of you nearly takes your breath away. He has a fireplace up here, and it is still glowing with embers. Your legs carry you over to it where you place your hands and are greeted with the feeling of warmth. 

Inadvertently you release a sigh as you feel your extremities warming. You hear the bed rustle behind you and you flip around, not even fully realizing that you are standing in this mans bedroom. He leans up on his arm, and you can see his eyes slowly opening as he sees you standing in front of his bed. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his voice light and groggy. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just– the power went out, and I was so cold I was just going to come ask you for some socks…” you stammer. “But then I saw the fireplace from the doorway, and my legs carried me here. I thought maybe if I could just warm my hands and feet I would be okay.”

He peels the blanket off of himself and stands up pushing his hair out of his face. His body clad in only his black boxer briefs, showcases his chiseled torso, glowing in the fireplace embers. You have to peel your eyes off of him as he walks across the room. 

He returns a minute later with a pair of wool camping socks, “For your feet.” he says, handing you the socks. You reach out to grab them and his hand brushes yours sending that same electricity through your system.

“My god, you are freezing!” he says. How long have you been awake and cold?” 

Bending down to pull the socks over your feet you answer, “I’m not sure, maybe twenty minutes?” 

“Why didn’t you come up here sooner?” he asks, grabbing your cold hands in his warm ones, rubbing them together to attempt to warm them. 

“Well, you were already nice enough to let me stay here, I didn't want to wake you up too.” you say bashfully. Your eyes travel down his body and back up. “Aren’t you… cold?” you ask.

“No, I’m a warm sleeper.” he answers.

“Ah, that sounds nice.” slips from your mouth before you even can register what you’ve said.

You clamp your hand over your mouth in regret and he smiles, a giggle almost leaving his chest.

“You know, I figured I would lose power. I’m not surprised. How about this… why don’t you stay up here? I will throw another log on, and we can both be warm.” he says, with innocent eyes. 

Your eyes travel to the bed behind him, plush with white fluffy duvets and blankets. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as he goes to speak again, “It’s a big bed. We won’t even touch. I just won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re down there shivering.”

He bends over and tosses another log onto the embers, poking it with the fire poker until it lights. Feeling the warmth on your back, you look back to him. “Okay, but only because I am freezing.”

“I know. I’ll get you warm, don’t worry.” he smiles. 

He walks over to the other side of his bed, pulling back the blankets and gesturing for you to slide in. He pulls the thick blankets over you and nods his head as he tucks you in.

Wow. 

You can’t even think of a time when someone took care of you like this. It’s kind of sweet.

He walks back to the fireplace and prods the log making sure it won’t roll off, and closes the mesh divider. 

He makes his way back to the bed, returning to the warm spot he left only minutes ago, sighing in relief as warmth washes over him as he pulls the duvet back over his now slightly chilled body. 

He rolls to face you, though you are on your back, eyes cast to the ceiling. You can feel his eyes staring into the side of your head, so you turn your head to look at him. The room is dark, the only light coming from the small flames in front of the bed. The orange hues dance across his cheeks, highlighting his cheekbones, and producing a sparkle in his tired eyes. 

“Do you feel it?” he whispers.

You feel your heart leap in your chest as your breath catches in your throat, “What?” you ask, nervously.

“The fire, do you feel it?” he asks.

God…

“Oh, yeah, I do. Thank you… for letting me stay up here. This is beyond…hospitable.” you reply, turning your body to face him in the bed. 

“Are you warming up?” he asks, the log crackling in the fireplace. 

“Yes, I’m starting to. I think it will take longer for my hands and feet.” you giggle.

“Here,” he says, reaching across, grabbing your hands and clasping them tightly between his. “Mine are plenty warm.”

You feel the electricity traveling through your body, and from the look on his face, he feels it too. A light hum leaves your chest as the warmth of his hands works quickly to heat your own.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, you are positive that he can see the pink blush creeping across your cheeks as you stifle a nervous smile.

“Yeah, it does. You’re lucky you’re so hot.” the words falling from your lips before you can stop them, something that seems to be happening far too often. 

A smirk flashes across his face as you stumble trying to correct yourself. “Warm, I meant warm. Not hot. I’m sorry... But, not that you aren’t hot, you are. Really. But–I meant…I’m not making this better am I...” you sigh.

“No, you know what? I think it’s perfect.” he says, his hand gripping yours, thumbs gently exploring the valleys and peaks of your knuckles.

“You do?” you ask quietly.

“Mhmm…” he hums. The rumble from his chest sends a shiver through your body.

You can feel your body temperature rising, but it isn’t from the fire. Josh’s hand releases yours and your eyes flick down as he pulls them away. He notices your furrowed brow and looks up at you.

“I told you we don’t have to touch.” he smirks, rolling to his back, positioning his hands behind his head. You roll back to your back, mimicking his actions. 

You both lay there in silence for a few minutes. You can hear the wind whipping against the windows, the thought causing you to shiver. You let your eyes travel the length of his body under the sheets and you bite your cheek as you meet his bare chest moving slowly up and down with each breath.

Pursing your lips together, you let your foot wander across the bed until it makes contact with his. You let the tips of your toes trace the curve of his ankle, as you watch a small smile play upon his lips. 

He turns his foot to meet yours, rubbing slowly over the top of yours as he twists his body to face you again. He places his hand next to his face on the pillow, pushing down the fluffy feather filled fabric, “So you do want to touch?”

You turn your body to face him, letting your foot slide up his leg, feeling the soft hairs tickle you. “Maybe a little…” you answer.

“You feel it too, don't you.” he asks. But this time, you know he isn’t talking about the fire. 

“Feel what, Josh…” you say in a playfully sultry tone.

“This.” He grabs your arm and pulls you as close to him as possible, his bare chest pressed directly to yours. 

Your legs intertwine with his as his hand cradles the back of your neck. Yours rests on his warm chest. He really wasn’t kidding about the warm sleeper thing.

Your fingertip traces the line of his collarbone as your eyes flick up to his, “Yes…I feel it too.”

You feel his breath on your forehead and you sink into him, as his body heat warms you quickly.

Feeling bold, you press a barely there kiss to his throat, stretched taut over your head. You feel his Adam's apple bob against your lips as your lips connect with his skin. His legs twitch against yours and you feel a warmth creeping down your center.

A closed mouth groan rumbles through his chest as his grip on you tightens. You have never made the first move, but tonight wasn’t a normal night. He was a stranger. A beautiful, warm stranger and you had already taken the first chance by knocking on his door.

You feel him hardening against your stomach and you smile up at him. His eyes have grown dark with want and you know yours probably look the same. “Josh…” you ask.

“Hmmm…” he hums into the top of your head.

“You know you could have just started a fire downstairs… I could have slept on the couch.” you say.

“You’re right. I could have, but I knew both of us weren’t going to fit on the couch.” he replies, voice soft as velvet.

“So you did want me in your bed…” you tease.

“From the second you asked me if I was watching A Clockwork Orange…” he says.

You crane your neck, lips furiously in search of his. You would be lying if you said you didn't catch yourself staring at his plush pink lips all night as he spoke of his passions. Thought about how they would feel, how they would taste. You thought about kissing the tiny scar you noticed on his cheek in the guest room. But nothing you imagined came close to how he actually felt. How he actually tasted. His tongue slides across your bottom lip as it begs for entry into your mouth. Slightly parting your lips he slides in, his tongue searching for yours.

You twist your fingers into his curly hair and it’s softer than you imagined. His lips pull away from yours and you whine at the loss of the heat of his tongue against yours. His lips connect with your jaw and neck as you scratch your nails against his scalp. You feel him hum against your neck as you pull on his hair, begging him for more. 

“You like that?” he murmurs against your skin. 

“Yes… kee– keep going…” you beg.

“God you’re sweet. I have to know you.” he says, as his kisses travel further down your neck. You feel his warm hand slide underneath the hem of the borrowed white shirt. His hand radiates heat across the sensitive skin of your stomach burning a path as it travels up. 

His eyes look to yours for permission, and he takes your deepend kiss as a yes as his hand connects with your hardened nipple. A moan leaves your mouth and travels into his and he rolls the taut flesh between his thumb and forefinger. 

He releases it as he grabs a handful of your breast, massaging the pliable skin. Sliding your knee upwards between his legs, you feel his full erect length straining through his boxers. You press your pelvis into his causing him to groan and pull you in tighter. 

“I want you to know me Josh, all of me.” you say, reaching down to grasp him in your hand. 

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You detach your lips from his neck as you respond with a nod, “Didn’t you say you would warm me up?”

“I did say that, didn’t I…” he teases, lifting the hem of the shirt to pull it over your head. As you lay there next to him, the orange glow of the fireplace reflects onto your skin.

“Shit, you are…for once I don’t have words.” he smiles.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” you laugh.

“Good. I always have words. My brothers give me shit for it all the time. But you have me speechless…” he says with a smile.

You blush, and you're positive that even in the dark room he can see it. His dimple shows through and you pull his neck down to connect your lips with his once more. 

Your hands travel down his sides, feeling his soft smooth skin beneath your hands. Supporting himself with one hand next to your head, the other hand skims to the top of the black sweatpants, teasing the sensitive skin across your hip bones.

He hooks a finger into the waistband and tugs downward pulling them to rest at your knees. You kick them the rest of the way off, leaving you bare beneath him.

“I can’t believe you got a flat in front of my house. I can’t believe I was actually here.” he says as if thanking God for his good fortune. 

“Why wouldn’t you be here?” you whisper.

“I travel a lot. I’m not here probably six months out of the year.” he answers.

You know you want to dive deeper into that at a later time, because right now, you need him. Like you need air. Lungs burning from not having him. 

You look directly into his beautiful brown eyes as you quickly rid him of his boxers. He kicks them off and your eyes travel down his chest to see the outline of his length glowing in the fire light between you.

He drops down to place wet kisses over your stomach and hips. Stopping and looking up at you as he presses a kiss to the mound between your legs. His tongue slips out and licks a warm path up your center causing you to breath sharply at the contact. Your hips flex backwards as your body silently begs for more friction. He pushes your legs apart slightly as he repeats the same motion, a sigh releasing from your chest. 

His tongue pointedly circles around your clit, you groan becoming more audible. His hand reaches up and grabs yours placing it on the top of his head. He wants your hands in his hair and you willingly oblige. 

Weaving your fingers through the curls you find yourself instinctively pressing down on his head to bring him closer. A growl racks through his chest. 

“Josh… I….” you whine.

His lips detach from you, “I know beautiful, give it to me. I want it.” he demands.

His tongue begins to furiously swipe against you and within seconds you are free falling into your release bucking your hips up into his mouth. The moan from your chest echoing through the silent house. As you float there in the darkness you feel his mouth leave you, and once you’re fully back, you feel him pressing kisses to your thighs. 

“Josh…I want you.” you say, pulling him up to hover over you. 

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, “You can have whatever you want, as long as you keep making pretty sounds like that.”

Gripping his dick in your now much warmer hand, you pull him to you, pressing him against your soaked core. 

You let go as he takes the lead, slowly sliding into you with a whispered ‘fuck.’

You adjust to him quickly, almost as if your body had been waiting for him since the minute he opened the door. His curls hang down his forehead as he sets a steady pace moving back and forth inside of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you as your lips find his. You can taste yourself, but more, you can taste him. His essence. You can smell his earthy scent, pouring from his skin. Like a mix of damp wood and sweet vanilla. 

He rolls his hips into you eliciting a moan from your mouth. He does it again receiving the same response and a smile crosses his face. His thrusts become harsher, hitting the spot you so desperately need him to hit, and he does. Flawlessly. Your moans fill the air in the room. 

“I have heard so many things in my life, but god damn if this one isn’t my favorite.” he says, punctuating the sentence with the most sinful groan and you tighten around him. 

“Fuck… just like that gorgeous.” he says pressing deeper with each thrust.

“Josh, fuck…” you whine.

“You gonna give me another one baby? I want it…Need to feel you cum on my cock.” he pants. His hips begin to falter, thrusting wildly and inconsistently. You can tell he is close and you’re not far behind him. 

You squeeze around him as your fingernails dig into the soft skin of his back.  “Please, harder.” you beg.

Sweat drips down the side of his neck as he bites his bottom lip, thrusting into you harder than he has been, the smack of skin ringing through the vaulted ceilings. “Fuck, you want it hard baby? God you’re fucking perfect.” his hips snapping into you repeatedly like a rubberband. 

You toss your head back as you feel your stomach tightening. 

“Ahhh… fuck you’re squeezing me so fucking good… I won’t last much longer, I need you to cum for me angel. Let me have it.” he begs.

His words send you spiraling into your second release, tensing around his cock so hard, that he meets his own ending. You feel him pulsing inside of you. Groaning with each spurt your name falling from his lips like a prayer. 

His breathing is erratic as he collapses onto your chest, his messy curls tickling your face. You giggle as you push them away from your nose. He rolls off on you and onto his pillow, turning his head to face you as his breathing evens out. 

He pulls you close to him, your head laying on his chest. You listen to his heart beating and feel the rise and fall of his chest. His fingers run through your hair, occasionally twisting a strand around his finger, feeling the silkiness of it between his digits. His fingertips massage your scalp practically putting you to sleep.

“You live in Nashville, right?” he asks, finally breaking the silence.

You nod your head against his chest. “I do.”

“Good.” he replies.

You kiss his chest and he places a kiss on the top of your hair, letting his arm fall loosely around your back. Sleep overtaking both of you, finally warm.

When your eyes open, you see daylight. It is bright, brighter than usual. The sky is gray and heavy with snow clouds, an ominous reminder of what looks to be another snow storm impending. Sitting up, you find yourself still in the king size bed in Josh’s room. You see now in the light of day, the entirety of the wall of windows that overtakes the back portion of his home. His bedroom opening up to the bright light of the day as soon as the sun would begin to rise. You see that he has gone from next to you, and you bite your lip, wondering if he regrets what happened. 

You pull yourself out of the warmth of the bed and redress yourself in the borrowed clothes flung onto the floor with haste last night. You make his bed, a gentle thank you, for him to find later, before you step out of the doorway and make your way down the shiny wooden steps. 

The power is back on, evident by the smell of the coffee pouring out of the kitchen. You look around the house but you don’t see Josh. Where did he go?

You walk to the coffee pot situated next to the stove, and begin opening the cabinet doors looking for a mug. Settling on a blue mug with the state of Michigan on it, you pour the steaming hot liquid into the mug, breathing in deeply the invigorating scent. 

You carry the hot mug into the guest room, setting it on the bedside table as you change back into your own clothes. A few minutes later as you reemerge with the empty mug, you see Josh standing at the counter. He has on a sweatshirt and pants, and his hands are dirty. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold outside air.

“I was wondering where you went.”  you say sheepishly, placing your mug on the counter. 

“I woke up and decided, ‘Who needs Triple A’... I can do it. So I went and dug your car out of the snow, and changed your flat. I have to admit, I haven’t had to do anything like that in a while. Probably since I was home in Michigan. It may have taken me longer than it should but … it was kinda nice. But I will admit it was hard to peel myself away from you this morning.” he smiles.

“You didn’t have to do that!” you implore, “Gosh I feel so bad, I already feel like I have imposed so much!”

Peeling his hoodie off, he rushes to you. “You weren’t an imposition. You were the unexpected surprise I needed. The best surprise.” he says, grabbing your hands. “Last night was…perfect and I want to see you again. In fact I don’t even want you to go.” he says shyly.

“Really?” you ask, nervously.

“Yeah, but I understand you probably need to…” he says looking down to the floor. Your heart clenches realizing how nervous he is, and that’s when you decide.

“I actually have nowhere to be… but… I do need a shower and I’ll probably need some clothes.” you smirk.

“You know…I think I can help with that.” he smiles.

You peer out the window behind him, snow flurries just beginning to fall as you ask, “Have you ever seen 2001: A Space Odyssey? I feel like you’d like it…”

He shakes his head in amazement as a smile spreads across his face, making way for his perfect dimple. With his look suddenly turning to a devilish grin, he throws you over his shoulder and carries you up the stairs, laughing the whole way. 

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