#Sam Kiszka Fanfiction

[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…

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

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;)

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

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

[concreteburialplot]

Wallflower 🌸

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist: Here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: Overwhelmed at your first college party, you catch the attention of the most popular guy in the room. Not only does he offer a comforting escape from the chaos, but he also provides a place to stay when your roommate kicks you out for a hookup.

Warnings: mutual pining, panic attacks, overstimulation, alcohol consumption, college parties, frat boy!danny lol, minor altercation / brief angry sam, hint of forbidden twin?, weed, one bed trope technically?, very soft, enchanted by TS vibes, 18+ MDNI

A/N; This is my first fic for gvf, pls be kind 🥲 - this is a work of fiction and does not reflect any members of the band or their real lives/actions/etc. - i hope you like it 🥲💞🌸

It was only your 3rd weekend away at university and your extremely extroverted roommate somehow talked you into a frat party. You followed Katie into a massive, bustling house illuminated only by strobe and neon lights. The air was thick and hazy with cigarette and marijuana smoke, making your nose scrunch up at the pungent smell. 

She pressed a gentle but firm hand on your back and nudged you forward, not realizing until then that you had been frozen in place.

Katie somehow managed to glide through the crowd effortlessly, skillfully maneuvering without bumping into anyone. She even asked someone for directions to the kitchen, to which they eagerly pointed out the way. It was so foreign to you, the concept of speaking to strangers and receiving such kindness in return so quickly. Perhaps it was her brighter face and friendlier persona that made the difference. 

Following the directions from a blonde girl wearing only a bikini, you made your way across the house into a surprisingly spacious kitchen. The room had an unconventional layout, resembling a triangle with an oddly-shaped island at its center. 

There were people scooting around the edges of the crowded kitchen trying to reach the liquor bottles and jell-o shots strewn across the counters. Surrounding the ample island were party goers all engaged in a rowdy conversation. You followed their focus to the one commanding their attention and landed on what could quite possibly be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Long brunette hair flowed past his shoulders and had a slight wave that framed his face perfectly. Even in the dim light of the kitchen you could make out the sharpness of his features. The air in your lungs seemed to vanish and your ears tuned out the booming laughter and thumping party music. Your chest swelled with a feeling of rampant heart rate and your stomach dropped into a flurry of butterflies. Suddenly, you felt even smaller and more out of place than you’d ever felt perhaps in your entire life.

Your life-of-the-party, sunshiney roommate wrapped her fingers around your wrist and dragged you to the group of people on the opposite side of the island, next to where the stunning man stood. She made it to a tall male in a t-shirt with cropped sleeves, large enough to show his ribs.

“Danny!” Katie exclaimed, getting his attention.

“Oh hey!” He smiled wide as he turned away from the counter to face her. “You made it!”

“Y/N this is Danny,” She gestured to the boy with dark curly hair that was tucked beneath a backwards cap, “I met him at the bookstore yesterday.”

You wondered what sort of magic Katie possessed that allowed her to make friends everywhere she went.

He kept a kind smile on his lips as he waved to you.

“Hey.” You sheepishly smiled and waved back to him.

Your roommate gestured back to you, “Danny this is Y/N.”

He gave you a soft grin before directing his attention back to your roommate. “Did you ever get your textbook situation figured out?”

The party had only grown more unruly in the short time you’d been there. You slunk into the background of the lively kitchen until your hips met the cold counter. You tugged at the pink top Katie had lent to you in an attempt to cover a bit more of your midsection. Not only had she persuaded you to party tonight, she also convinced you to borrow some of her clothes, since yours were too “casual comfy”. She managed to get you into a baby tee paired with a high-waisted white skirt paired with your usual white Converse. You didn’t necessarily feel exposed or vulnerable in the outfit, it was just not your preferred level of comfort.

Loud cheering rang through the house and even though you could tell it was from a distance, the loud sound still made you wince. Almost immediately afterwards, a clearly wasted man in a tank stop shoved his way past you, pushing you into the granite counter. The encounter caused you to tuck your crossed arms even tighter against your body. 

“Sam,” Danny spoke over the blaring music to the male that was keeping the group laughing to get his attention. “Sam,” He repeats, though the lanky boy was too caught up in whatever conversation he was in to notice. Danny gently tapped his shoulder which finally got the boy to look over at him. “I’m gonna go find Josh.” He nearly yelled over the music and thumbed over his shoulder towards the living room.

“Okay.” The male nodded in acknowledgment.

Just as his gaze fell from his friend, it landed on you. It was clear that he didn’t expect there to be anything to get his attention as he blinked to do a subtle double take. His eyes flickered over to his friends across from the geometric-shaped island. He snapped right back into the flowing banter like a puzzle piece. The ease of how swiftly he melted back into the conversation reminded you a lot of Katie and her magic socializing powers.

While Katie didn’t originally know the people beside you, it only took for her to ask them to pass the tequila for a friendship to be born and for you to have a mixed drink in your hand. You swirled the contents of your plastic red cup, watching as the ice cubes crashed into each other. It felt as though you’d faded into the background and became one with the cabinets and counters. You weren’t anywhere near as outgoing as her and you knew nobody else at the party. It was just you and the shitty alcoholic punch that was quickly getting watered down in your cup.

“Well, you sure look like you’re having fun.” Spoke a voice from beside you. It wasn’t until then that you realized you had zoned out. Your eyes snapped up to the now half-empty kitchen, and you wonder when it was that everyone cleared out, including your roommate. Finally, you followed the voice and trailed your eyes up to find the long-haired boy from before.

Your cheeks heated up and your gaze immediately dropped back down to your cup. “Oh um, yeah.” You forced a quick smile back up at him. “Having a great time.”

He let out a laugh that was more reminiscent of one someone would offer after a witty joke. “Well that was incredibly convincing.” He said sarcastically although his tone was light and playful.

You could feel the redness spreading on your cheeks getting caught in your (quite obvious) lie. “I just don’t know anyone here.” While it was the truth, it wasn’t exactly the whole reason you were miserable. “Except for my roommate, who,” You sighed and motioned towards where she had stood before. “Disappeared on me.” You let your arm fall to your side in utter defeat.

“Well, let’s fix that.” He said, holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Sam, I’ve also been known to go by Sammy, Sammy Boy, whatever tickles your fancy really.” He grinned, big and wide, and most importantly, kind .

You offered a small, timid smile back before reaching out and slipping your hand into his. “Y/N.”

His smile only grew as he firmly grasped your hand and gave it a good, firm shake. “An honor to make your acquaintance.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at all his eccentric verbiage. “Nice to meet you too, Sam.”

The alcohol must’ve been hitting your system more than you thought since you probably would’ve barely been able to speak a single word to this man if you had been sober.

“Is this your party?” You asked, trying to cover your bases before talking any more shit about the ensemble.

He laughed hard that time, “Me? In a fraternity? God no.” He shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “It seems like everyone ended up at this party, even you, Wallflower.” He offered a playful smile.

Your cheeks burned hot at the nickname even though it was meant to be comical. “Oh,” You chuckled nervously and your gaze fell back to your red cup. “Parties just aren’t my thing, my roommate just dragged me here.”

“What couldn’t you like about a party like this?” He stepped back and stretched his arms wide. If you weren’t mistaken, his tone sounded half facetious. He smiled then stepped back towards you. “Besides the god-awful music, of course.” He kept his grin as he took a sip from his beer bottle, a lime wedge clunking against the glass walls.

You chuckled at his theatrics, he was quickly becoming one of the most interesting people you’d ever met. “The music isn’t so bad, not really my taste but, it’s not the worst part.” You shrugged. “It’s mainly the people.” Your gaze followed past the boy, through the kitchen arch entrance into the living room where the hoard of college students danced and mingled. “Too many people.” 

“You sound like my brother Jake.” He laughed fondly. “He loves to party, but with the right people. That’s why he’s not up here. My other brother though,” He peeked over his shoulder at the party. “He’s in there somewhere having the time of his life right now.”

“And you?” You questioned, turning your face up to him. “Why aren’t you out there?”

The corners of his mouth turned up like it was the easiest thing in the world, like forming a smile was what he was born to do. “Well, because I’m talking to you, silly.” He stated as if it was obvious.

Heat rushed to your cheeks once more. “Oh, well I don’t wanna keep you from your friends.” You shook your head and tried to keep your eyes on him as you spoke but failed and your gaze fell back to the melting ice in your cup. “I’m sure they’re waiting for you.”

“I’m not in a rush.” He replied simply, keeping his focus earnestly on you. “I’m sure that I’m the last thing on their minds right now.” He joked.

“I suppose you’re probably right.” You chuckled and met his eyes.

Suddenly, a visibly wasted frat boy fashioned in a neon green tank top shoved his way between the both of you. The abrasive action not only shoved Sam backwards but also bumped into your cup splashing a bit of drink onto your shirt. You gasped at the unexpected force then hissed at the coldness now spreading across your skin. 

Sam set his beer down harshly on the island, hard enough for the glass clank to ring through the small space. “What the fuck man?” His tone was irritated but not quite angry yet, until his eyes noticed the blue alcohol bleeding across your baby pink top. 

The boy, who looked like his name was Kyle, drunkenly smirked at the remark, as if irritating Sam seemed like fun to him. “You should be thanking me for getting your girl wet.” 

You’d only known Sam all of maybe 30 minutes but you could tell he wasn’t one to pick fights, however you questioned that truth when you watched his brows lower at the male. He stepped towards him with a strongly pointed finger. “Really bold of you to be so disrespectful to someone who could easily get your ass kicked out of here.”

The boy scoffed at him, “Oh what are you gonna do, ban me from every party?” He asksd as if it’s a joke.

“That exactly.” Sam stated calmly though you could tell it was anger he was suppressing. “I know every fucker in this house, all I’ve gotta do is point you out, and boom,” He shrugged casually. “Say goodbye to every party of the year.”

It was obvious that the boy only half believed him but the threat of being exiled from the campus’ largest and most anticipated parties had his eyes widening. 

“That’s what I thought.” His arm swung towards the kitchen exit. “Now get the fuck out, and don’t let me see you again.”

He nodded quickly and sped out of the kitchen. When Sam’s gaze returned to you it quickly softened and his hands immediately found your arms to comfort you. “I’m so sorry.” He apologized even though it wasn’t his fault. His eyes landed on your chest though you knew it wasn’t disrespectful. “Here.” He swiftly pivoted behind you to snag the roll of paper towels, snapping off a few squares before dampening them in the metal sink beside you. He brought the dampened pieces and went to help clean your shirt but stopped himself before making contact. His chocolatey eyes snapped up to you with a look of apology. “May I?” 

You were stunned by everything that had just occurred so you just nodded. His touches were gentle, patting the colorful stain away. “I’m sorry that happened. I know you just said how you were already overwhelmed with everything.”

You sucked a breath in through your nose trying to steady your breathing, attempting to act normal even though the event overstimulated you enough to border a panic attack. “No it’s okay, I just-“ You closed your eyes and let your chest fall as you exhaled. “This stuff is just, it’s a lot.” You kept your focus off of him feeling somewhat ashamed of it. You’re in college, something so minor at a party shouldn’t bother you, right?

He paused his actions to glance up at you before returning to his work on your shirt. “Don’t apologize. Like I said, my older brother Jake doesn’t like crowds either.” He informed softly, taking extra care to not touch you too much or make you uncomfortable. “I’m used to this.” His shoulders pulled into a shrug. 

“Thanks.” You nodded, grateful for his kindness. You allowed a quiet fall between you as you focused on calming down. After a bit of him going back and forth with new paper towels with little success, you sighed looking down at the vibrant blue splotch. “It’s okay, it doesn’t look like it’s gonna come out.”

The edge of his mouth curved into a slight frown knowing that despite his best efforts, you were right. “I’m sorry.” He added the last used paper towel onto the pile beside you. “Hey, let me at least get you a fresh shirt.”

After cleaning up the mess of paper towels, he led you away from the crowd and upstairs to rows of ample bedrooms. 

“I thought you weren’t a part of this frat?” You asked as he went directly to a specific door. 

“I’m not,” He twisted the doorknob to a surprisingly empty bedroom. The rest of them seemed to be …preoccupied. The room looked like a stereotypical college dorm just in an elaborate fancy house. There were sports posters on each side of the walls above two separate beds, along with soccer and golf gear spread over the floor. It was surprisingly clean but you wondered if that was by design, if it was only clean because they anticipated having company tonight. Without turning the light on, Sam found his way to a wooden dresser and dug through it. You furrowed your brows in confused concern since he just informed you that this was in fact not his room. If you knew him better you’d scold him and ask what he was doing rifling through someone else’s belongings but you held your tongue in favor of curiosity. 

The moonlight peering through the window casted a sparkling light across his features. He seemed to glow, the light loved his smooth tan skin, the sharp edges of his face and the honey in his eyes. It felt wrong to ogle at him like he was some Greek sculpture but you couldn’t help it. He was just so beautiful .

You promptly averted your stare when he finally turned back to you and held out a folded shirt flat on two hands like a gift. “That guy your friend was talking to in the kitchen? That’s my best friend Danny.” He smiled fondly, evidently proud of his friendship. “He does live here and so I end up crashing here all the time so, I have some backup clothes.” He tilted his head to the shirt. “It’s clean, you can borrow it for the night if you want.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that crept up to your lips at his gesture. You gently took the rusty brown shirt and thanked him. He led you to the nearest empty bathroom for you to change.

Being alone in a bathroom at a party tended to be a great place to gauge where your head was at so, when you stood in front of the mirror and assessed yourself you noticed a couple things. You looked absolutely ridiculous with the giant blue splotch across your chest. There was a slight warm redness in your cheeks indicated that you were a little tipsy but not enough to numb your fingers or lips. And finally, a fluttering had made home in your tummy and a smitten grin kept threatening to creep across your lips. You wondered if the pink in your cheeks was truly the alcohol or something else entirely. 

After you changed into the borrowed shirt, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Sam leaning against the stairway railing mindlessly waiting for you. Once his eyes finally landed on you, the edges of his mouth tugging into a smooth and soft smile. “Ah, it looks great on you!” He exclaimed with an arm stretched out to his side before softly landing on your shoulder. 

The warmth in your cheeks worsened at his compliment, which you quickly tried to squash by telling yourself that he’s just being nice. “Thanks.” You replied in a voice smaller than you intended. 

If this had been any other night, with anyone else, you would’ve definitely already been on your way home by now, but you couldn’t possibly cheat yourself out of time with the most interesting person you’d ever met. Even so, the idea of going back to the chaos downstairs wasn’t appealing at all. 

Almost as if he could read your mind, he straightened up a bit like he’d just thought of an idea. “By chance, do you happen to play pool?”

Your brows furrowed and your head tilted slightly like a confused puppy. “Um, a little, a long time ago. I don’t really remember how though.”

His lips tugged into a wide smile. “Perfect! Let me show you something, follow me.”

Now, it wasn’t your brightest moment, letting a random boy at a party lead you downstairs into a basement but for whatever reason you trusted him. He was far too kind to be devious – besides, what sort of sinister person wears a cream-colored knit sweater to a frat party?

You followed him down some carpeted steps into a brick-lined basement. You looked around the room taking it in fully. While it was still busy with people, the atmosphere was much different. The music was softer, and the chatter wasn’t nearly as loud. The room was full of games, from pool tables to air hockey to darts and even some arcade games. It was accompanied by an espresso-colored leather couch and wooden bar stocked with what looked like every bottle of liquor imaginable. The basement was much more your speed than upstairs would ever be.

Sam must’ve noticed your amazement, giving you a tiny smirk. “Much better, isn’t it?”

“Worlds better.” You grinned up at him in gratitude, though a twinkle of fear sparked in your stomach at the thought that he may just leave you there to rejoin his friends upstairs.

That worry melted away when he was instantly greeted by nearly everyone in the room. You were beginning to learn that he had friends everywhere he went. The only one you recognized was Danny from earlier which surprised you since he seemed like the life of the party earlier and it was his party after all. Next to him stood a shorter boy with long brown hair somewhat reminiscent to Sam’s. In opposition to Sam’s sweater, this boy wore a button down held together only by the last two buttons before being tucked into his jeans. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow the long corded, crystal necklace that laid down his exposed chest. When you heard Sam’s voice beginning introductions, you blinked your eyes up to the mystery boy’s face only to find his eyes already on yours with a smirk. Your cheeks burned in hopes that neither of them noticed your wandering eyes. 

“Well you already met Danny, but this is my brother Jake.” Sam grinned introducing him. “Jake this is Y/N, Y/N this is Jake.” He gestured between you both. 

Jake smiled at you but you took note of the corner of his lip curling into another smirk. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He pulled the pool stick he was using off the table until he stood it up beside him holding it like a staff. 

“Hey.” Your lips tugged into a tightlipped smile as you tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear before waving at him. 

Sam then grinned wide and clapped his hands together, startling you a bit. “Okay! Now you said that you don’t know how to play, right?”

“Not really, no.” You shook your head, stepping back to turn towards the vacant pool table parallel to the one Jake and Danny were playing on. Your eyes lingered on the green fabric table top and tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you realized that you absolutely did not remember how to play. 

Sam noticed your lingering apprehension and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "Don't worry, it's easy! I'll walk you through it, Wallflower." He said the nickname in a playful manner, poking light fun at your timidness.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Jake take note of the nickname and it made you wonder why - was it because it was clear why it was your nickname or the fact that Sam had already given you one?

He picked up a pool cue and handed it to you, demonstrating how to hold it properly. "First, you want to get your grip right. Hold it like this," he said, gently taking your hands and positioning them on the cue. His touch was soft but firm, and resembled electricity against your skin.

You tried to mimic his stance, but it felt awkward and unnatural. Sensing your struggle, Sam stepped closer, his chest barely brushing against your back. "Here, let me help you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His hands gently adjusted your grip and guided your arm into the correct position. "Now, keep your eye on the ball you're aiming for."

You nodded, trying to focus despite the buzzing in your stomach. Sam's presence was both comforting and extremely nerve-wracking. "Like this?" you asked, lining up your shot.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a large, prideful smile. "Now, just take a deep breath and strike."

You took a breath, steadying your nerves, and struck the cue ball. It rolled smoothly across the table, colliding with the intended target and sending it into a pocket. Your eyes widened in surprise and delight. "I did it!"

Sam laughed, clearly pleased with your success. "See? I told you it was easy."

As you and Sam continued to play, Jake wandered over, with a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Hey Sam, I got a few pointers to give, don’t you mind?" he asked, already picking up a pool cue before the other answered. 

Sam’s tone and deadpanning glare made it obvious that he was used to but far too old for the competitive big brother behavior. "Alright, Jake, let's see what great pointers you got." Sam rolled his eyes already knowing where this was leading but stepped back with a good-natured chuckle to keep peace. 

Jake sauntered over, exuding a casual confidence with every step. While he and Sam both oozed confidence, they were much different in their own ways. Sam was self-assured in the way he could be the center of attention in any room by being solely his authentic self. Jake’s composed demeanor was different. He didn’t make himself the center of attention in the room, he just was - you’d barely been in the room 60 seconds before he captivated you.

Jake stood beside you, his presence more imposing than Sam's, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Alright, Y/N, let's see how you're holding that cue."

You showed him the way Sam had taught you hold, feeling slightly nervous under his intense gaze. He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Nah, you've got it wrong. Here, let me show you."

He moved behind you, much like Sam had, but his approach was different. Jake's hands were firmer, his touch more assertive. He adjusted your grip with a practiced ease, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You need to be more confident with your shot," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Pool is as much about attitude as it is about skill."

Sam watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. You tried to focus on Jake's instructions, but his proximity was a bit overwhelming. "Like this?" you asked, adjusting your stance under his guidance.

"Exactly," Jake replied, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. The sensation alone had goosebumps erupt across your skin. "Now, don't hesitate. Just go for it."

You struck the cue ball, and it collided with the intended target, sending it into a pocket with a satisfying clink. Jake's grin widened. "See? Not bad at all."

You glanced over at Sam across the room, who surprisingly gave you a thumbs up, his smile genuine despite the shift in dynamic. "Nice shot, Y/N!" he called out.

Jake stepped back, leaning against the table with a satisfied look. "Alright, Sammy boy, she's all yours again," he said with a perpetual smirk and a wink in your direction.

Sam rejoined you, his demeanor as warm and patient as ever towards you but you caught him shooting a slight glare over at Jake. "Great job, Y/N. You did so good!" Even though Jake’s proximity had your heart thumping, you were happy to have Sam’s comforting presence back.

Blood rushed to your cheeks at the compliment, “Thanks.” You replied meekly. Between Sam being well, Sam, and Jake’s oddly competitive behavior, you had to admit that you were a tad overwhelmed with it all. Although, it wasn’t necessarily an entirely bad feeling just, a lot for someone who never went out all that much before. It was a lot and your social battery was quickly depleting.

You ended up finishing your rounds with Sam while Jake and Danny continued to play their own game. Every so often you found yourself peeking over at Jake who was cool and focused with a cigar perched between his fingers. 

Surprisingly, you won your game but wondered if Sam had let you win. Regardless of whether your success was genuine, it filled you with a rush of accomplishment. If the night hadn’t been so long already you might’ve even initiated another game, but the ache of sleep started to weigh heavy on your bones. 

You rounded the table with a smile wider than you’ve had in weeks, thinking that maybe college wouldn’t be as scary as you spent so much time stressing over. 

“Thanks for teaching me.” You used both hands to keep the cue in place while you leaned against it tiredly. 

“Ah, you were a great student.” He waved away your politeness. 

You blinked up at him, finally able to see his face clearly in the better lighting of the basement. He looked even more striking under the warm glow, the soft yellow light highlighting his beautifully sun-kissed skin. His features were defined, with sharp angles and a complexion so smooth it was almost unreal. But the most captivating part of him was undoubtedly his eyes. In that light, they were a mesmerizing shade of dark caramel brown, drawing you in and momentarily distracting you from everything else.

“Oh, um,” Blood rushed to your cheeks, turning them a deep pink. “I don’t think so, but I had a really good time.” For some reason the admission felt vulnerable. 

He smiled, “Well, I’m glad. I did too.”

You glanced over to the circular wall clock to find that it was well past 1 am. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize it was so late.” You sighed and met Sam’s gaze again. “I really should get going.”

“Oh,” He faltered a bit, “Did you need a ride? I’m sure I could find someone sober around here.” He twisted his body around to check the room for any candidates. 

You chuckled and shook your head, setting your cue on the pool table. “No it’s fine, I was just gonna walk.” 

“Oh, I can’t let you walk home alone! There’s creeps out there!” 

You mulled it over in your head and while you didn’t want to inconvenience him further, he had a point that hadn’t dawned on you yet. “Well, I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s no bother at all.” He gestured towards the exit upstairs. “You ready?” 

You nodded and followed him up the stairs. Despite it being so late the party still raged on and kept the house chaotically crowded. Before you could really process an escape route, Sam grabbed your hand and began weaving through the crowd. You knew it was just precautionary and in reality it didn’t mean anything, but the action still filled your tummy with rampant butterflies and your chest with rapid thumping. 

Once you were safely on the porch, he released your hand and looked down at you. “You okay?” His brows curved up in concern. 

“Yeah.” You nodded with a small smile. It was almost embarrassing how brave you felt after surviving a rowdy frat party. 

“Okay good.” The smile he gave you was so sincere it almost made your heart ache. “Which way we headin’?” 

“That way.” You pointed to the left where the freshman dorms were located. 

“Cool, I live that way too.” He hopped off the porch while you opted for the three steps down he had skipped. 

You were both grateful and disappointed for the fact of your dorm was rather close to the party. As much as you craved your bed, it meant the end of this night with him would come sooner and you weren’t sure you were ready for that just yet. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but,” He prefaced a question, “Was that your first college party?” 

A gush of warm August wind washed over you, blowing your hair back. You let out an embarrassed chuckle, “Was it that obvious?” 

He let out a genuine laugh, “Not necessarily.” He lied, his shoulders pulling into a shrug. “Just a hunch.” He teased in a way you could tell wasn’t meant to be malicious. Even though he couldn’t relate, his words somehow sounded completely understanding. 

You fidgeted with your fingers since you didn’t have pockets in your borrowed skirt to shove them in. “You see, I have a history of being dragged to parties.” You joked even though you were exaggerating just a bit, only being ‘dragged’ to maybe 2 large high school parties, 3 if you count the one in middle school. You weren’t a stranger to alcohol or partying though, just preferred it in small, controlled settings with people you knew. “Like I said, I just don’t like strangers.”

“Well, strangers aren’t always bad.” He leaned a little in your direction with a raised brow. 

You giggled, “I guess you’re right.” And paused, “Afterall, I met Jake.” You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh at your own joke. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look at you with a completely deadpan expression and eyes filled with mock disapproval. The sheer dramatics of his reaction shattered your resolve, and you burst into laughter, throwing your head back.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” he said, rolling his eyes with exaggerated exasperation, a playful smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m jokinggg!” You defended nudging his shoulder and felt better once his smile returned to his lips. 

You went to follow him once he resumed on the designated path but stopped short. “Hey, actually this is my dorm.”

He spun on his heels crunching the gravelly asphalt beneath his shoes and pointed up to the brick building. “You live in Lakewood Hall?” 

“Yeah?”

“I live in Lakewood too!” He exclaimed in a way you’d never seen someone be so excited over something so mundane. You were certain that he could probably find joy in just about anything life had to offer.

“Really? That’s cool. What floor?” You attempted to remain nonchalant about living in the same dorm as this wonderful man you thought you may never see again.

“3, you?” 

“Wait, same! How have I not seen you around?” You asked then began walking towards the keycard protected door. 

“I don’t know.” He said, “I guess maybe because like I said I spend most of my time at Danny’s?” As he spoke, he slipped his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a keycard. The door's light blinked green, and the lock clicked open, confirming that he did actually live there too.

Once on your floor, you headed to your door and felt your stomach drop when you spotted a dreaded sock on the handle of your door. Katie must’ve ended up with that tall tattooed boy you’d last seen her dancing with. You let out a defeated sigh, not knowing where else to go at this hour. 

Sam laughed and tilted his chin at your door. “Good for your roommate.” 

You shook your head, “Yeah good for her, not for me, I have nowhere to go now and it’s like 2 am.” Both anxiety and anger began to fizz in your chest.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, I’m just down the hall.” He pointed in the opposite direction of your room. “You can come chill with me. If you want.” He made it a point to add the last bit, not wanting to push you but definitely looking to spend more time with you. 

“Oh no, no.” You shook your head vehemently. “I’ve already bothered you enough tonight, I can’t possibly intrude on your bedtime.”

He laughed hard at that one, “It’s no big deal, I’m a night owl.”

“Well, I-”

He rolled his eyes playfully before getting behind you and grasping your shoulders gently pushing you down the hall. “I’m not leaving you out here alone all night.” 

As much as you wanted to protest, just about anything sounded better than sitting alone in the hall for god knows how long. 

Once he opened his door and flicked the light on, your eyes widened. It was so much different than Danny’s - most notably the smell. Before the door was even fully open you were smacked in the face with a mix of patchouli incense and weed, each one trying to cancel the other out. He closed the door behind you as you fully took it all in. Aside from the potent smell the first thing you noticed was the two beds pushed together, a clear indicator that he didn’t have a roommate. Next was the giant earth-toned mandala-patterned tapestry that hung above the beds while the wall across the room from it was covered in vintage records and posters of various artists. Unlike the sports gear in Danny’s room, Sam’s floor was littered with instruments, more than you’d ever seen in one room outside of a school band room. 

“Whoa.” Was all that managed to tumble from your lips. 

“Cool ain’t it?” He stretched his arms out wide with a proud grin. “Got this place all to myself.” 

“Lucky.” You muttered, still a bit salty you weren’t lying in your own bed right now. “You play all of these?” 

“Yup!” He plopped himself on his double bed. “I’d play something for you now, if it wasn’t so cliche.” He joked. 

You wanted to protest but you weren’t about to argue with the keeper of your temporary sanctuary. As you scanned the room once more you noticed a couple things - thumbtacks shoved into every decoration and the bong casually out on his bedside table next to a glass jar full of green. Your brows furrowed, “How do you get away with all this?” 

He shrugged with a cocky smile, “I know people.”

“I wish I knew people.” You replied sarcastically. 

“Well, ya do now.” The edges of his mouth pulled to a soft, kind grin. It was really beautiful the way his features always seemed to light up any time he smiled. 

“You’re right.” You agreed mischievously, walking over to where he sat. “I know Jake.”

His smile fell flat at your joke. “You think you’re so funny huh?”

You giggled, “Yeah, I do.” 

His eyes glanced up at your face and lingered there longer than he intended. Now it was his time to study you - not that he hadn’t already been doing that all night but now that you were alone together and he could properly take you in. He cleared his throat when you tilted your head a bit at his stare. 

“You wanna smoke?” He offered, gesturing to the glass bong that was poorly fashioned to look like a vase. 

You shook your head, “No thanks, I think the alcohol was enough for the night. But you can if you want, I don’t mind.” 

Although it was traditionally his bedtime routine, he didn’t mind skipping that night. “No I’m okay, I was just offerin’.” He tilted his head towards an expansive vinyl shelf. “You wanna pick somethin’ to play?” 

Normally, Sam was a show-and-tell sort of guy but he was interested in what you’d choose. 

You twisted around to the long row of stacked cubicles full of records. As you stepped closer to them and ran your fingers along the spines you noticed they were all weathered with tattered edges. Almost all of the records were older artists, some big names but also some you’d never heard of. You were tempted by the only modern one you spotted being Hozier but it was obvious he wasn’t a fan of newer music and you wondered if this was some sort of test. If it was a lighthearted test, the last thing you wanted to do was seem uncultured by picking the only modern artist you saw. You thought hard about a Fleetwood Mac record but instead, you opted for an Elvis one and spun around to showcase your pick. 

“An Elvis fan? Interesting.” He eyed you curiously. “Wouldn’t have initially pegged you for one. But I’m familiar with those too, Josh is a huge fan of the king.” He chuckled, pushing himself off the thin mattress to set it up on his record player. “May I?” He outstretched his hands to take the record from your grasp.

The truth was that your knowledge on music was quite limited to mostly newer artists, except for the names everyone knows. It made you wonder if there was a world that existed where he’d be the one to help you expand your musical palate. 

You shrugged, “I just like his music.” Then obliged to his request and handed the record over for him to take it gently. 

He carefully removed the black disc from the worn sleeve. “ ‘Aloha from Hawaii’ you know this is a live recording right?” He questioned as he spun the record by the edges with his fingertips.

You playfully rolled your eyes at how naive he assumed you’d be. You stumbled a bit in your turn towards the bed, the alcohol and fatigue starting to weigh you down. Finally, you reached the edge of the bed and plopped down. You watched as he precariously placed the record down and set the needle at its edge. It was a buzz at first before the grand orchestra intro broke through the silence like a punch. “Mhm, I do.” You hummed. “I love old live recordings. I think the banter with the audience is funny. Things were so different then.” 

He let out a small chuckle, “You’re so right actually.” He crossed the room to a mini fridge filled with what you saw a glimpse, just a bunch of drinks. “Water?” He plucked a fresh cold one out of the glaring white interior and held it out for you.

“Yes! Thank you!” You let out an excited sigh of relief as the alcohol and exertion had dried up your mouth. 

You snatched the water from his grasp and cracked it open before taking a greedy gulp. In the moment, that crisp cool water going down your throat felt like heaven. Your finger tapped your phone screen to illuminate it for the time, it was almost 3 am and you had no messages from your roommate. You sighed and flipped the phone upside down. “Nothing from Katie. Looks like I’m locked out of my room for the night. I don’t wanna intrude on whatever… is going on in there.” You’re focused on the water bottle in your hands, crinkling a bit with your fingers. “I can get out of your hair though, try to find a cheap motel or something.” You anxiously fiddled with your thumbs at the mere idea of doing that.

“Don’t worry about it, really. You can crash here, it’s not a problem.” He said, taking a sip of his own water. “You can even have my bed if you want, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, oh absolutely not!” You protested, using your arm to slice through the air. 

“Then you don’t mind sleeping next to me?” His voice was smoother than silk and it made a buzz fall to your core. You were now regretting your decision to debate his offer. How on earth were you supposed to fall asleep in the same room as him nonetheless beside him. 

“Nope, don’t mind!” Your voice coming out squeakier than expected and it brought warmth to your cheeks. 

His brows furrowed and perked up a bit at your response before following it with a playful smirk, like he had picked up on your nervousness and found it flattering. “Alright then.” 

He pulled open a drawer from his oak dresser and pulled out a stack of clothes before making his way to the small bathroom. When he emerged, his top half was baring his tanned skin while long sweatpants rode low on his exposed hip bones. You couldn’t help your eyes from taking a glance over, then quickly diverting your gaze away to not be caught admiring him.

He tossed his dirty clothes into a half empty hamper and made his way to the bed. He crawled beside you on the other side of the bed, pulling the gray duvet up over his shoulders. Despite he kept his distance, you could still feel the warmth radiating off of him. Against your better judgement, when you finally sunk into the bed you laid facing him since you weren’t ready to knock out just yet. His sheets smelled like cologne, woodsy and herby, similar to the patchouli in the room but with some added notes of bergamot and cedar. 

You tucked your hands flat in a prayer position under your cheek, looking at him. His brown eyes were already on you, a hint of surprise in them at your chosen position to face him.

“Thanks for saving me today.” You said quietly, just then noticing that he’d kept the record playing softly in the background. 

“It’s no big deal, Wallflower.” He matched your gentle tone with a soft smile. As silly as the nickname was, it didn't stop the swelling in your chest and the flutter in your heart. 

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You added genuinely. Even though you got abandoned at the party and locked out of your dorm, it had been the best night you’d had so far since the semester began. 

He chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "We'll have to do it again."

You mirrored his glance for a moment, then smiled up at him. "Yeah, I’d really like that."

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled only by the soft music playing in the background. The warmth of his presence and the cozy scent of his sheets made you feel safe and content.

Between the long night and the calmness he brought, your eyelids grow heavy. As you let your eyes give way to slumber, a smile lingered on your lips, the events of the night replaying in your mind. In this unexpected place and with this unexpected person, you found a sense of comfort you hadn't anticipated. And for the first time since starting college, you felt truly excited about what it might bring.

Next Chapter -> 02 - I Can See You

Taglist; @deathblacksmoke @sacredthefran @measuredingold @persuasivus @broken0mens

A/N; Thank you so much for reading! Lmk how you liked it and if you want a part 2 🫣

[moonlightisdancing]

Watermelon Sugar/ s.f.k

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2607

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ kissing, oral sex (f receiving), spanking (if you squint), fingering, begging, hair pulling, hickies, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls!), breeding

•

LMK IF I MISSED ANY TAGS!

•

🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

“C’mon, love, time to wake up.” Sam runs his hand up and down your side, bringing his lips to kiss the shell of your ear. His fingers slid under your shirt on his second pass up your side, the gentle pads sinking into the soft skin of your belly.

“Mm, can’t we just stay here?” You whisper and nudge your hips back hoping you could sway his decision.

“Y/n, baby… I mean, we could but I already paid for the pass.”

“Ten more minutes.” You’re not asking, more so telling. Did you really have to leave now, anyways? He had you pack your bags two days ago… and he had put them in the car as soon as they were zipped. All there was left was the drive.

“Ten more.” He repeats in solidarity, his hand laying flat on your tummy. You can feel the beginning outline of morning wood against your ass, if there was one thing to keep you in bed, it was this. You nudge your ass back against his groin, placing your hand over his and pressing his palm harder against your skin.

“Maybe twenty?” You ask this time, trying to sweeten the deal.

“Uh-uh, I know what you’re trying to do. We’re going.” Sam backs his hips away from you, turning to lay on his back.

“What am I trying to do?” You turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow as you watch him think of his next words.

“Trying to seduce me, woman!” He moves his hand down to adjust himself in his boxers, bringing his arm back up to rest behind his head. You sit up and straddle his legs, placing your hands on his chest and dragging them across his bare skin. You give him the sweetest eyes you can as you slowly lower your chest to be resting against his. You pepper kisses across his chest before resting your cheek over his heart, listening to the beat it drums. His hands come over your body to wrap around your back, pulling you closer to his chest than you thought was possible. He was getting harder beneath your weight from no efforts of your own, his fingers tracing along your spine.

“Mm, Sammy,” You whined as the sensation from his fingers urged your body to shiver in response. In turn, that meant grinding deeper onto his clothed cock. “Fifteen minutes left should be enough, right?”

“Nowhere near enough time for what I wanna do to you.” He admitted shamelessly, a side of him you wished he'd show more. You lift your head up again to continue kissing his chest, going until your lips reach his nipple. You look up at him through hooded eyes before drawing your tongue towards his nipple and flicking it, the combination of spit and air causing it to pebble. Sam moans followed by an audible swallow.

“How about now?” You teased before continuing to kiss his chest, trailing up to his neck.

“I can do it better, y’know.”

“What?”

“I can flick my tongue better.” He finally moves his hands from your back to resting at the waistband of your panties. “Want me to remind you?”

All you offer is a nod and a short mhm and before you know it he’s inching you up his body until your center is lined up with his mouth. He brushes his fingers over your clothed clit before tucking them into part of fabric that meets the junction of your thigh and center. Pulling them to the side, he blows a stream of cool air against your exposed skin.

“So wet, sweet girl.” He didn’t even give you a second to register or respond to his words before his hands were planted on your hips, pushing you down onto his tongue as he lapped at your clit. His fingers dug deep into the supple skin of your ass as you rode out your orgasm, coating his face in your slick. Even after finishing, he licked between your folds until there was nothing left before ushering your legs from around his head.

“My turn now?” You asked, running your hands down his chest, stopping at the band of his boxers.

“Uh-uh, gotta go.” He sits up and kisses you softly before getting out of bed, tossing you a pair of shorts and one of his shirts from high school.

~🍉~

“I think there’s an extra piece…” You say as you struggle to push the pieces together to the tent. Years of Girl Scouts have evidently failed you as your tent looked more like a pile of polyester and metal poles than, well, a tent. You wonder how he always manages to talk you into outdoor activities. The heat was nauseating to say the least, and you were never successful in your attempts to set up the tent or start fires. But it always makes you feel bad when sets everything up by himself.

“Babe, there probably shouldn’t be extra pieces.” Sam drops your shared duffle bag against the hefty trunk of a nearby tree before making his way towards you.

“Okay, well I’m telling you- there is.” Unlike the pieces you were attempting to put together, you snapped. You watch between your legs and see Sam’s feet approaching you from behind. It’s only a matter of seconds before his large palms find purchase on your hips, his thumbs rubbing soft circles across your lower back.

“Woah, woah, woah. Deep breath, it’s okay. Do you want me to get it?” He almost doesn’t give you a choice as he uses his hands to help you stand up. Your backside rubs against his groin as he slowly brings you upright.

“I just wanna help! You always do everything a-and I just wanna… Ugh.” You frown as you turn around to face him. Sam wraps his arms around your shoulders and you press your forehead to his bare chest.

“Breathe, honey girl, you can still help. Do you wanna set up the hammock? You always pick the best spot,” He pulls away to look you in the eyes, bringing one hand to rest against your cheek.

“Okay, I can do that.” You nod your head yes and place your flat palm against the heated skin of his chest. Sam cups your chin and brings you in for a kiss, pulling away for a second before pecking your lips again.

“Hammock’s over there.” He points next to the duffel bag to a smaller striped bag. You turn to walk away, leaving Sam with whatever you had going on regarding the tent, if you could call it that. As soon as you pass him, he reaches back to smack your ass.

“Go team!”

“Saaaam!” You whine, rubbing your hand over your skin to soothe the sensation.

~🍉~

Finding the perfect spot for the hammock was no issue for you, in fact it was the one thing you felt confident in during these ventures. Sam hums a tune you don’t recognize, probably something off their newest project. You smile and slide the rope through the hoop at the end of the hammock, wrapping the rope around the trunk of the tree, and delicately twisting and tying each knot, repeating the process on both sides until the hammock is safely secured between your trees of choice. Embarrassingly enough, Sam still managed to fix the entire tent before you finished hanging the hammock. In your defense, most of the hard work had been done.

“That part was in fact not extra, by the way.” Sam states while walking towards you. “How’s hammocking going?”

“Good, I think it’s ready.” You rub your hands down your shirt and turn on your heels to face Sam.

“Wanna try it out?” He motions his hand towards the hanging fabric. You stand in front of it and gently position yourself in the middle, sitting on the hammock before throwing your legs up into the nest of cloth.

“It’s perfect!” You ring out into the woods.

“Room for one more, you think?” Sam asks as he makes his way over, following suit. To your surprise he successfully found his way nestled in next to you without any casualties. In a matter of moments, your legs find themselves thrown over his, your arms wrapped around his torso and face buried into his chest. He hums at the contact, bringing his hand to rest on your side, the other under your head allowing you to rest on his forearm.

“You did a good job, I’m proud of you.” He mumbles into your hair as he kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you, Sammy. And thanks for fixing the tent.”

“Anything for you.”

You nuzzle deeper into his side, bringing your leg up further, in turn drawing his hand lower on your waist until his palm rests against your ass. You’re reminded again how his playful tap felt in the presence of his gentle touch. You subconsciously arch your back, pushing your ass into his hand more firmly than he was allowing himself.

“I’m sorry, is there something I can do for you?” He asks as he squeezes your supple skin with his calloused fingertips before gently kneading the flesh.

“Just thinking about that smack from earlier,”

“Yeah? Did it encourage you to be a team player?” Sam drags his fingers under the hemline of your shorts until they meet the lacey edge of your panties. “Hm, think you’re ready for your prize then?” Sam’s fingers inch under your panties, grazing against your clothed bud.

“Please?” You nudge your hips forward, trying to guide his fingers where you wanted them most. Like a magnet, his fingers are drawn to your center.

“Careful, don’t wanna fall out.” Sam guides two fingers through your folds, gathering your slick on them. You lift your leg to grant him access to wherever he pleases. He slowly works his fingers up until his fingertips dance along your sensitive bud, causing more arousal to drip from your core.

“Sam…”

His free hand finds shelter upon your neck, urging your lips to meet his. He shifts his body gently enough so the hammock doesn’t tip, allowing you easier access to his chest. His lips never leave yours, instead working to become one as he licks into your mouth. His hand goes lower, lower, lower down your pants until his fingers are tapping against your entrance. You moan into his mouth at the sensation and with that Sam pushes his two digits into your aching core. You bring your hands up to undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing the rest of his torso to you. His fingers slowly fuck into you as he pulls his face away from yours, maneuvering his hand to tuck stray strands of hair behind your ears.

“There’s my girl.” He whispers into the space between your faces. Your brows furrow in pleasure, compliments to the pads of his fingers against your g-spot and the name he paid you.

“Sammy, please?” You whine, throwing your head back from the stimulation, the slight breeze cooling the sweat coating your exposed throat. Sam drops his head just enough to allow himself access to your neck, dragging his tongue from the hollow of your throat up to your jawline.

“Please what, pretty baby?”

“Need you… in… me…” Your words come out between hitched breaths, nearly unable to be mumbled at all through waves of your pleasure. Sam slowly pulls his fingers out of you and starts to push your shorts down. You help slip them off while you make work of palming his length through his shorts. The more your palm strokes his clothed length, the harder he becomes, the tip of his dick threatening to grow past the inseams of his tiny blue shorts.

Your fingers brush over the zipper, your nimble fingers quick to undo it, hand slipping past his waistband. He whines at the skin to skin contact as you run your thumb over the head of his aching cock. You let go long enough to tug at the waistband of his boxers until his cock springs loose from the restraints of the fabric. Sam hitches your leg over his thigh once again before bringing his hand down to stroke his length. His other hand is still perched against your neck, the sweat pooling in his palm. His fingers grab at tufts of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back to look at him as he drags the head of cock over your soaked panties.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” He huffs as he uses the tip of his dick to push your panties aside, running himself through your velvety folds. Sam rests himself at your entrance, tugging your head back further to watch your eyes screw shut as he slowly pushes into you, drawing a hiss from your lips.

“F-faster…”

“Can’t, we’ll fall. Gotta go slow.” He whispers as he slowly moves his hips back and forth, each time feeling slower than the last. Your head falls forward and you press a series of open mouth kisses across Sam’s chest. In some spots your mouth lingers, sucking and nipping at his heated skin until red marks eventually fade to purple. Sam brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing soft circles over your sensitive bud. Your orgasm starts to build, rolling through your body like distant thunder. The feeling starts in your throat, working down until every inch of you is rumbling with anticipation. He slowly moves his hips, pumping his length as deep into your pussy that your body allows. The dusting of hair around his base can still be felt past the barrier of his thumb and it drives you insane. Sam attaches his lips back to your throat and sucks bright pink marks into your skin. You bring your arms between your bodies, digging your nails into Sam’s chest over the series of love marks you left trailed across his chest. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, quickening his circular motions.

“Just like that… Is my pretty girl gonna cum?” His hips find a faster pace, surprisingly one that doesn’t tip the hammock over and end you both up naked on the forest floor. His words push you over the edge, your nails dig deeper into the skin of his chest as your thunderous orgasm finally takes storm. Your once relatively stable breathing turns into uncontrollably whining and whimpering against his neck. “Yeah… you look so pretty when you cum on my cock. Fuck..” Sam follows swiftly behind, his hips stuttering as ropes of his warm release coat your insides. The dominant brunette is quick to succumb to his own desires. His movements come to a halt as he brings his lips to yours again. He kisses you and holds you like an anchor in the storm, as if you’re the only thing tying him down to this earth. After you both come down from your orgasms, Sam finally pulls out, running his fingers between your folds once again. He collects your combined arousal on his fingers, bringing them between your lips and his. You watch as he laps at his digits, tasting your combination.

“Tastes sweet, like strawberries, wanna try?” He hums around his digits waiting for a response. You nod and he brings his hand down again to collect more, patiently waiting as he brings his fingers to your lips and pushes them past the plump, pink skin. You drag your tongue between his fingers, cleaning every drop of your mixed release from between his fingers.

“Perfect spot for the hammock.”

[builtbykittie]

Dirty secrets

S.f.k x f!reader

summary: a movie night with your best friend takes a drastic turn after walking in on his insufferable roommate.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, enemies to lovers-ish, SMUT, mentions of masturbation, fingering, slapping, overstimulation, oral(m & f rec), unprotected sex (you know better), sam is kind of an asshole, multiple orgasms, choking if you squint

A/N: once again not edited because I'm lazy... Sorry for any mistakes!! Enjoy!

.

"Heyy beautiful!" Danny smiles, holding the front door open with a wide grin.

"Hi Daniel," you grin, holding out your arms for a hug. You have to admit, you're excited to finally get to spend time with him at his place. You've purposefully avoided going to Danny's house ever since he and Sam moved in together, so most of the time you'd be at bars or parties.

Sam had gone through a breakup not very long ago, he didn't want to stay at his house and moved out. At first, it was just until he got over her and found a new place, but he gets over girls questionably quick and it doesn't seem that he's moving out any time soon. At least not until he moves on to the next girl.

The second you saw that Sam's car was missing from the driveway, you sat up in your seat. You hoped that Sam might've taken off once Danny told him you'd be over. The thought of him being so petty that he leaves makes you giggle, until you remember you'd do the exact same. Is it childish? Absolutely. But maybe you're allowed to be not so mature for once.

But your hopes are crushed as Danny leads you into the house.

"I know you and Sam... aren't the greatest friends," he pauses "but he's at the store getting food. He'll be back sometime soon."

You stop in your tracks, all color draining from your face. "What?" is all you can get out.

After a moment, you finally collect your words. "Danny I thought it was gonna be just us?" You try your best to seem calm and act mature, but the red tint covering your entire body tells otherwise.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. If I had told you any sooner you wouldn't have come," Danny says, further fueling the fire that is your temper.

He can tell you're about to say something and stops you. "Sam was supposed to be out but after I told him what was going on he got defensive and insisted on staying here," Danny shrugs, looking defeated. You can tell they got in a little argument over this and you decide not to go too hard on him, even though he failed to tell you you'd be hanging out with your sworn enemy. The man at the core of all your arguments.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought it was gonna be just us. I wish it was," he offers you a smile, but it doesn't help. It makes no sense. Why would Sam of all people want to stick around? To torment you? To show you that this is also his house and he's allowed to be around? He does help Danny pay, after all.

It takes about half an hour of scrolling through streaming sites and saying no to every suggestion to finally decide on a movie. Sam still hasn't returned.

The two of you sit around for another thirty minutes waiting for his return, but it doesn't come. Maybe he really did take off. "Let's just start the movie," Danny finally suggests, you didn't want to say it in case he'd take it as you being upset over Sam, which you are.

You grab a blanket, bringing your feet to your side and cuddling up to his arm. The movie starts, and about ten minutes pass until Sam is finally walking through the door. The second you see him you roll your eyes, already blocking out whatever dumb excuse he has for his tardiness.

But he doesn't say anything, just walking over to the opposite side of the room from you and dropping the bag of food on the coffee table. "Jesus, took you long enough," Danny pauses the movie. "We started the movie, hope you don't mind.

"I do, actually," Sam says as a matter of fact. You try your best not to just get up and walk out. Or scoff at him. Or let your emotions get the best of you.

Danny just looks at you, silently asking if it's okay to rewind. "I don't care. It's only ten minutes," you say rather bitterly, deciding to avoid as much conflict as possible.

Oh, but that stupid face of Sam's drives you crazy. He's got a smug smile playing on his lips, looking right at you. Heaven only knows how badly you want to get up and slap him right in his dumb, pretty little face.

Something about Sam is he thinks that because he's attractive that he can be an asshole. Because he's attractive, life is 10x easier. Getting a girlfriend is incredibly easy, everyone is nice to him, and he always gets his way.

He never really did anything to you, besides being an asshole. You just hated his pretty privilege, attitude, and presence. Something about him just being around puts you in a bad mood. Drove you crazy. The sight of him. The smell of his cologne. The sound of his voice.

And maybe you were attracted to him. Maybe that's what made you hate him the most.

You tried to ignore him. To enjoy the movie, but you just couldn't. Sam's presence is all too distracting. Danny attempts to break the tension by commenting on the movie but that fails miserably, perhaps even making it worse at points.

Finally, Sam gets up and storms off to his room, his cheeks bright pink. "Jesus Christ," Danny sighs, stretching his arms out. You'd be a lot happier if he hadn't left at the last couple of minutes.

"Hey, Danny can I stay here tonight? It's pretty late and I don't wanna drive home half asleep," you yawn, sitting up and stretching.

"Yeah, I just gotta be somewhere in the morning so," he sits up slightly "you done with the movie?"

You feel bad because the entire movie you sat there annoyed and in a bad mood, but it was long and you're tired "Yeah." You stand up, folding the blanket you used "Should I just stay here on the couch or...?"

"Oh, no. There's that guest room by Sam's. If you go down that hall it's the one right across from his. Got its own bathroom, remember?" he yawns, turning the television off, followed by the lamps surrounding you. "Okay I'm going to bed," he mumbles, placing a hand on your head and ruffling up your hair.

"Goodnight, Danny," you place a quick friendly peck on his cheek and pad to the kitchen. You're practically dying of thirst, grabbing a glass from his cupboard and filling it with cold water.

You sit there silently on his counter and sip your water, listening to the faint rustle coming from Danny's room as he gets ready to go to sleep. Slipping off the counter, you gently discard the glass and find the hall that hosts the guest room. You were positive you knew which room it was, but now that you're standing at the entrance of the dark hallway, you have no idea which one it is.

There are three rooms. One on the right side, one on the left, and one at the end of the hall. It occurs to you that you have no idea which room is Sam's. You listen for any sign of life in the rooms, listening to which side it may be coming from. Very faintly, you hear a soft groan, but you can't decide which room it may have come from.

You hear it again, this time you're sure it was from the right, so you head for the left. Just to be sure, you stop and listen again, but you hear nothing, so you turn the knob and open the door.

Instead of finding an empty room with a cold bed, you find shirtless Sam sitting lazily in a sofa chair. His head is thrown back, hair clung to his neck, lips parted, and cheeks bright pink. It takes you a moment to process what you're seeing, even then you can't seem to look away. His hand swirls around his impossibly hard, angry cock as he mouths something you can't quite understand.

His head snaps over to you, movements slowing down but not stopping. It feels as if you're in a daze, your eyes fixated on his sweaty body and your mouth slightly open. "Get the fuck out," he blurts, his voice rough as if he'd been choking it back.

You practically run out, pulling the door but not fully closing it. You stop in the kitchen, trying to process what just happened. Trying to calm yourself down, you grab the same glass from earlier and pour yourself more water, cupping some in your hands and splashing your face with it.

You throw back the drink, chugging the cold liquid and giving yourself a brain freeze. For a while, you stand there fidgeting with the cold glass and staring at nothing. All you can think about is the way he looked, all red and sweaty. Your mind wanders to his cock, the way his hand glided along the incredible length.

You're startled out of your daze once you hear the sound of footsteps in the kitchen. You spin around to find Sam, still shirtless but with boxers on that fail to hide his bulge.

He angrily stares at you for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sam I- I'm sorry I didn't kn-" you start to stammer, but he cuts you off.

"Don't fucking tell anyone, Y/N," he takes a step closer to you. You frantically nod your head, finding yourself motionless against the island as Sam slowly moves closer and closer to you. "Say it. Tell me you won't tell anyone," Sam's voice slightly raises, but still quiet enough to not wake Daniel.

"I- I won't tell anyone, I promise," you practically whine, cowering away from him.

"How do I know you won't use that big fucking mouth of yours, hm?" Now his face is only inches from yours and although you're trying your best to avoid his face, he forces you to look at him.

For a moment, you both stand there, silently staring at each other. Your entire body is flushed, the tension is palpable, and the silence is loud.

One of his large hands finds the waistband of your shorts and dips past it, your breaths growing heavier as the rough tips of his fingers begin to trace your hip bone. "Sam.." you mutter, grabbing his wrist, but he slaps you away.

A throbbing sensation pounds at your core, a feeling you know all too well. You hate it. You hate it so much you just wanna slap him. You've fallen into his trap.

But at the same time, you need him. You need him so bad it's embarrassing.

His hand reaches your panties, and you can't help but grab onto the counter behind you, looking down at where his hand is in your shorts. "Look at me," he says roughly, the hand not teasing at your panties coming up to grab your chin, forcing you to make eye contact.

A soft, whiney breath escapes your open mouth once his two middle fingers press against your needy clit. "Yeah, bitchy girl likes that, doesn't she?" Slowly, his fingers begin to massage your clit through your panties, looking into your eyes.

You can't nod, you can't let him know he's right. But even without flat-out telling him yes, he still knows. He can tell by the way your hips buck against his hand, the way you softly moan, and the way your mouth falls open at the smallest movement.

"Doesn't she?" His voice comes out rough, startling you. His finger hooks under the side of your panties. "If you say no, I'll let you go to bed," he slowly moves the fabric to the side. He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear "if you say yes, I'll give you what you want. Spoil you. Give you something you don't deserve."

His voice sends a shiver up your spine, freezing you in place. He slots his fingers between your folds, just barely brushing against your clit, eliciting an embarrassing whine. He has his answer. He knows. He just wants to hear it.

"Sam," you start with the intention to protest, but quickly realize it's no good once he circles your entrance with his middle finger. "Oh fuck," you struggle to keep your voice a whisper.

It takes you a moment to collect your words and put them into a proper sentence. "Yes," you start, but the tip of his finger just slightly slipping into your entrance interrupts you. It doesn't take long for you to realize that you're not gonna be able to get that sentence out, watching as a smirk grows on his stupid face and his eyes become unbelievably dark.

"Good girl," Sam purrs into your ear, leaning even closer and taking the shell of it between his teeth. That alone could make you whine, so when he shoves his two middle fingers into you, a cry flies past your lips.

His brows furrow and the hand not toying with you clamps over your mouth. His fingers curl harshly up into you before he slides the digits out of you and brings them up to his lips. That pounding at your core grows even worse as you watch him take the fingers into his mouth, licking up your juices and releasing them from his mouth with a pop.

The hand over your mouth moves to be prying your jaw open, shoving his fingers into your mouth. He closes your mouth around the digits, forcing you to taste the mix of your juices and his saliva and you start to gag on his fingers as he shoves them further and further into your mouth.

By the time he finally takes them out of your mouth, you're practically gasping for air, the tips of his fingers keep your tongue sticking out of your mouth. To your surprise, he leans in, his mouth incredibly close to yours for a moment before he sticks his tongue out and licks yours.

You suck in a loud gasp at the action, and you hate yourself for how much you enjoyed it. He hums, dropping his hands to the small of your back, licking along your jawline and sucking a the soft flesh into his mouth. "S- Sam," you whine, trying to push him away but to no avail.

"Don't do that," you push again, your brows knitting together. The last thing you want is to wake up with ugly purple splotches covering your neck. He simply huffs a laugh and you feel him smile against your skin before he takes the flesh between his teeth.

He lifts that same hand up back to your mouth and once again practically shoves his fingers down your throat. You let out a cry of surprise, your eyes growing comically large as you realize how loud it was.

Before you can even blink, Sam takes his fingers out of your mouth, raising his hand up and letting it come down against your cheek. You try to stifle the yelp that threatens to spill past your lips, but you're not very successful. The stinging sensation that follows hurts so good.

His wet fingers squeeze your cheeks and he leans in, his face mere centimeters from yours. "Y/N, you make one more noise, and I'm taping your mouth shut. Got it?" His dark, lust blown eyes stare so intensely into yours that you just want to curl up into a ball and shrink in size.

He lets go of your cheeks and you frantically nod your head. A smirk grows on his lips at your response, his hand slowly making it's way down your torso till it reaches the waistband of your shorts. He uses his thumb to pull the band, creating an opening for his fingers to meet your core.

His other hand comes back up to your mouth, and you whine against his palm at the pressure. Thank God for his hand, because the whimper that slips past your lips once his fingers reach your core could've easily woken anybody near. He's staring into your eyes, but his gaze narrows and his brows furrow in annoyance at every single squeak you fail to hide.

He spreads your arousal around your folds, bringing it up to your clit and drawing small circles over the needy bud. Your hand flies to his wrist, digging your nails into the soft flesh as his fingers speed up against your clit. Every time your eyes wander off or your eyelids start to flutter shut, he forces you to keep your eyes on him.

So many emotions rush through you. Anger. Annoyance. Lust. Frustration. Desire. He's driving you crazy, and he loves it. Every single whine you let out, every time you squeeze him, every time your knees threaten to buckle, puts a smile on his stupid smug face.

He hates you. You hate him. For some sick reason it intensifies your desire for him more than words could ever explain. And he'd be a complete and utter liar if he said he didn't feel the same.

You hate it so much you could cry, but at the same time you can't get enough. You couldn't be able to walk away if you wanted to. He's too alluring. His body is like a magnet.

Your eyes roll back into your head, involuntarily bucking your hips against his hand. Sam lets out a low chuckle at your reaction and presses against your clit. "Yeah, that's right. Feel my fingers. They feel good, huh little slut?" He comes down to your neck, biting the flesh as his fingers speed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You frantically nod your head, grinding against his fingers. Those skilled hands of his work deliciously over your poor sensitive clit and your whines against his hand grow louder. You don't know how much longer you can go before you're sent hurdling over the edge.

A pressure builds right below your belly button and its getting harder and harder to keep your voice down. Even muffled by his hand you're still embarrassingly loud. Your knees buckle and your thighs tremble, his fingers show no mercy for your bundle of nerves as he hums against your neck.

It's just his fingers, but they're so skilled. So incredibly experienced. You throw your head back, mumbling profanities against his hand, ultimately coming out inaudible. As your pleasure intensifies, so does his pace. So does his pressure against the sweet sensitive bud.

"Yeah that's it, cum for me doll," his fingers move from your clit and effortlessly slide into your entrance, flicking against a soft spot. His hand around your mouth forces your head up to look at him. Your eyes widen and you let out an incredibly loud whimper against his hand as that band of pleasure snaps.

"Such a good little whore," he comes down to whisper against your neck, and you feel his shoulders bounce. He's giggling. His fingers don't slow down, and his thumb starts to play with your clit.

You violently shake your head against his hand, your eyes wide as you fight against him. Despite your efforts, he doesn't stop. In fact, he speeds up. Your eyes prick with tears and you watch as he sinks to his knees in front of you.

The hand that was covering your mouth slowly slides down your body, stopping at your navel "take your shirt off." Your brows knit together and your eyes flick to the direction of Daniel's room, but you do as he says. Slowly, you lift the hem of your shirt, hooking your fingers under your bra as you go. Sam's eyes study every second. Every inch of your torso. He watches carefully as you lift the thin fabric over your head and it drops to the floor.

His hand is still toying with your cunt, the other starting to slowly pull down your shorts and panties. As your clothes go lower down your body, so do his kisses. His lips start at your belly button, then slowly move down till they're right at your slit.

Now you're completely exposed. Daniel could walk in at any second and see you and Sam like this. For some reason, the thought goes straight to your cunt, turning you on even more.

His breath is warm against your heat, fueling the fire inside of you. Suddenly, a yelp slips out of your mouth once his tongue finds your clit. His dark eyes angrily flick up to yours and you clamp your own hand over your mouth.

His tongue dances so delicately around your folds, tasting you as if you're the sweetest honey he's ever had. Your entire body shudders, the feeling of his sweet tongue over your overstimulated clit sends shocks of electricity through your body.

His fingers move in sync with his tongue, his other hand squeezing your thigh. Your thighs are trembling and shaking at an immense speed, your knees threatening to completely give out. You're already there. His fingers curl up into a sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. You've gotten over the overstimulation, now you're falling over the edge.

You let out a cry against your hand as your orgasm clouds your head for the second time in a row. Sam withdrawals his fingers from you just in time, because suddenly your legs give out from underneath you and you're collapsing in his lap.

He lets you sit there for just long enough to find your composure before he's forcing you both up. Once he's on his feet, he grabs your hair in a bundle and pulls you up to meet him.

A surprised whimper falls past your lips once he spins you around so that your back is flush to his chest. One arm wraps around your body at your bust, the other holds your ass firm against his body. "Feel that?" His low voice sends a shiver up your spine as he whispers into your ear. "Feel my cock against your pretty little ass?" He presses harder against you.

"This little problem," he growls "do you have any idea how annoying it is?" He wiggles his hips against you, and you feel that pounding return to your core. "Now you're gonna help me fix it. You're gonna take every inch of my cock like the little slut you are."

You don't try to hide the soft, breathy moan that falls past your lips at his words. Your entire body becomes flushed a deep red color, so intense to the point that it starts to give you a headache. Without warning, he's sweeping you off your feet and carrying you off to his room, your clothes still on the kitchen floor.

Everything happens in mere seconds. He's practically running to his room, sending the door flying open and throwing you on the bed. He eagerly climbs on top of you, marveling at your naked body. He leaves a trace of kisses down torso, sucking the skin of your hip into his mouth.

He gets up, frantically closing and locking the door. He turns back to you, sliding his boxers down his legs, his cock springing free. He tossed the fabric off from around his feet and takes himself in his hand. The sight drives you mad. His long, hard cock in his large hand. Just so eager to feel you. Begging for pleasure. You can see every vein, even from where you are. He's so turned on it's unbelievable.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the flesh at the sight of him. His brows are furrowed as he stares at you, his large hand starting to slowly pump his length. It takes everything in you to not give in and touch yourself, the pounding at your core has become so incredibly unbearable just the slightest touch would break you.

Silently, he walks to you, his angry pink tip dripping with precum. "Sit up," he demands, still stroking himself at such a slow pace that it makes you wince. You do just as he says, not even bothering to think about how desperate you probably look.

Sam slowly crawls onto the bed, moving up so that his knees are on each side of your thighs and you're face to face with his cock. He doesn't even give a warning or anything before he grabs your hair in a bundle and forces your mouth onto him. You're just lucky he didn't force his entire length down your throat.

You quickly adjust to his thickness and start to glide your tongue along his cock, his hand guiding you. Sam lets out a breathy noise and his grip on your hair tightens once you start to speed up. "Fuck- that's it, Y/N," he mutters, feeling your mouth as you suck harder around his cock.

His hips start to buck forward, making his cock tickle the very back of your throat. You take him as far into your mouth as you possibly can, your eyes filling with tears at every thrust of his hips. You pull back, wrapping your hand around his cock, squeezing him tight as you start to lap at his slit. His head falls back and strings of profanities escape his plump pink lips, you know he won't last much longer like this.

The hand around his cock starts to stroke along his length, not once loosening your grip as you tease his angry tip. "Oh fuck-" he blurts, his voice rough and his hips jutting forward at the sensation. His hands tug harshly at your hair, and you use it as encouragement, every pull of your hair you reward, sucking harder or stroking faster.

It's almost humorous how fast you drive him to the edge, every profanity in the dictionary is flying past his lips and he's bringing you to tears with how hard he's pulling your hair. Suddenly, he forces your hand off of him and grasps the back of your head, practically shoving his cock down your throat. He thrusts once, and that's all it takes for his hot release to spurt into the back of your throat.

For a few moments, he keeps you there, forcing you to swallow every last drop of him. "Shit-" he speaks, out of breath. "Where'd you learn that?" He removes himself from you, but he doesn't give you enough time to answer before he's forcing you around onto your stomach. His calloused fingertips grab at the supple flesh at the back of your thighs, forcing your legs open.

A loud, surprised moan escapes your lips as his fingers just barely touch your cunt. He collects your arousal on his fingertips, spreading it around your core. "Jesus Christ," he groans "you're so fucking wet." The pillows stifle the moans and whimpers that you make at the slight touch.

"So fucking horny," His fingers start to massage your clit, but before you can even begin to enjoy it, he moves his hand to slap your ass, eliciting a loud yelp. "So needy. Wouldn't wanna have to make you beg for it, would I?" he comes down, and you gasp as he starts to place open mouth kisses to your ass, his tongue lapping at the red skin.

"Please, Sam," you practically cry into the sheets, clawing the fabric. He simply just snickers at your plead, continuing to kiss everywhere but the area you need him to touch the most.

"Sam," you whine, but he's just ignoring you. "Sam Kiszka I swear to fucking god," you say harshly, moving your head so that he can hear you clearly. You feel him huff a laugh against your inner thigh, "fine. If you want it so bad." You let out a sigh, a little squeak following it once his tongue reaches your core.

He circles your entrance with his tongue, the very tip of it prodding you. He repeats this until you're a sweaty mess, your hair clung to your neck, your thighs shaking from trying to create any sort of friction, and your hands grasping onto the sheets for dear life. You can't form a sentence, every word you try to speak just comes out as a squeaky whimper and you can tell he's enjoying this 10x more than you.

You let out a squeaky sigh once he pulls back, and he brings his cock to your entrance. He slides his tip through your core, groaning as he feels the wetness of your folds around him. Pathetic moans roll off your tongue and you try to clamp your thighs around his lower body, but he slaps the back of your thigh and pries your legs apart.

A loud, whiney cry rips through your chest as he sinks into you, and the sting of his cock stretching you out without warning robs you of any self respect you had left. "Oh- fuck," Sam groans, bottoming out inside you and staying there for a moment. You claw at the sheets, a yelp escaping your mouth once he starts to mercilessly thrust into you.

One deep and intoxicating thrust, then another, then another until he's worked up the perfect pace that drives you mad. "Oh Sam- fuck," you cry, arching your back into the bed. "Shit, Y/N," Sam mutters, having to practically rip your hands off the sheets to hold them behind your back.

You cry his name at a particularly sharp thrust, and curse yourself for how much you're enjoying it. He feels too good, you hate it. You hate the fact that you're just like every other girl he's hooked up with. But most of all, you hate the fact that you denied him for so long. Forced down those dirty thoughts that would surface in your mind about him. "Yeah, feels good doesn't it, little slut?" He punctuates his words with sharp movements.

You fail at trying to form a sentence. Every time you open your mouth, a pathetic moan falls past your swollen red lips. You hear him snicker behind you, and the hand not firmly holding your hands behind your back moves to your ass. He grabs at the supple flesh, kneading it in his hands as he fucks his anger out on you.

"yes," you cry out "so fucking good, Sam." You know Daniel can absolutely hear, but you're past the point of caring. "I've seen the way you look at me. You try to act like you don't touch yourself thinking of me but really, you're just as bad as the rest of them. Just dying to let me use you like the little whore you know you are." Sam starts to go even deeper, as if that was even possible, his tip is all but brushing against your cervix. And oh how he's so right.

"holy fucking-" you're on the verge of screaming, tears pricking your waterline once again. "God, who would've known you're so filthy?" You hear the grin in his voice, and his hand grasps your ass so hard you're sure you'll wake up to bruises. "I mean, really. Letting me use you like this. Cumming all over my hands in the kitchen," He breathes, and you can tell he's struggling to keep a steady voice and form coherent sentences of his own.

"You know, Daniel could've walked in at any time. Saw you acting like the little fucking whore you are for me," he sends a sharp thrust into you, hitting a part of you that you didn't even know someone could reach. "But I bet that just turned you on even more, huh? The thought of being so exposed in there just made you cum so hard, didn't it?" With every single word comes a rough movement of his hips, and you can't see him, but you know theres a stupid smirk playing on his face.

"Sam I- I'm gonna," you whine, clawing at his wrist. "Yeah? Little slut gonna cum?" He snickers, his pace slowing down, his thrusts becoming slower as he sinks completely into to, hitting every sweet spot known to woman kind. "Yes. Yes yes," you bite the sheets, your nails still digging into his wrists.

Your cries and moans grow unbelievably loud, intensifying with each movement. "That's it, baby, cum for me," Sam grabs your hips, lifting them up off the bed so that your ass is in the air. With one final thrust, you're coming undone. Completely unraveling beneath him. "Fuck fuck fuck," you moan, burning white flames of pleasure dancing viciously around your tummy.

Sam almost immediately pulls out, your juices dripping down your sweaty thigh. He drops your hips and you fall back down on the bed, softly moaning and whimpering as you come down from the high.

A surprised whimper slips past your lips once he grabs you by your waist and flips you around "don't think for a second that I'm done with you." He grabs you by your waist, picking you up and throwing you against the arm rest of the sofa chair you walked in on him in.

It's as if you regained consciousness because right before you hit the furniture, you brace your arms against the other side of the sofa, catching yourself. "Sam what are you-" you start, but he cuts you off. "I'm gonna make you cum as many times as I want, sweetheart," he grabs his cock, pumping slowly a few times.

"Sam I don't know if I can.." you whine, but this just makes him snicker. He ignores you, and you yelp once he thrusts into you. He doesn't wait. Doesn't give you a moment, he just starts fucking into you. He sets an intoxicating pace almost immediately, you're completely drunk off of his cock.

You repeat his name over and over like a mantra, your moans growing louder and louder with each thrust. His cock rams into you, and Sam's making sure he's going as deep into you as he possibly can. "Shit. You're so fucking-" Sam groans, but he doesn't finish his sentence. He bends over, his chin resting against your bare back and he takes the sweaty flesh between his teeth.

You claw the fabric of the sofa, the lewd sounds of your skin snapping together and your sexes mixing fill the humid air, not to mention the volume of which you're screaming his name. "So fucking dirty," he speaks breathlessly between thrusts "taking my cock like such a good girl."

He stands up again, and your forehead practically slams against the furniture. "Oh fuck me-" you cry, pushing yourself back onto his cock with shaky legs. "But you're so fucking far from that. You're the filthiest little bitch I've ever been with," he roughly thrusts into you after every single word, it's unbelievable how much stamina this man has.

"At least I know how to shut you up now," His hand wraps around your body till it finds your dripping cunt, and elicits a loud yelp once his fingers start to dance over your swollen, oversensitive cit.

"Y'know, I oughta spank you," he groans "dirty little slut." Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the feeling of his skilled fingers working your clit mixed with his cock burying itself deep into your cunt over and over drives you right to the edge. If its even possible, the roaring fire in your tummy intensifies even more.

That same fire burns at the coil of pleasure pulled tightly until it snaps in two, white electricity flowing through your limbs. Despite the fact that every inch of you is trembling and you're overstimulated to the point of tears, you still clamp around his cock, determined to beat him.

"The fuck are you doing?" He slaps your ass and pulls out in one quick motion. Your body goes limp and suddenly, you lose your train of thought. Your words fail you "I- I..." Sam stops you, grabbing you by your torso and flipping you around. "I'll cum when i decide it's time," he speaks lowly, taking your lips in a sloppy, humid kiss before dropping you into the seat.

He hasn't given you any time to cool off, he's already staring down at you with those eyes and stroking his length. "Sam I-" you stutter "Sam I don't know if I can. do another one." You knew you weren't getting out of this one, but the amused look on his face pisses you off.

"It's not that I don't want it I just-" you say rather bitterly, cutting yourself off once you become conscious of the fact that you're almost completely out of breath. "Don't worry, darling. I'll be more gentle this time," he smirks.

You take a deep breath and nod, bringing your legs up to rest on each side of the sofa. His eyes widen at your glistening core, but soon relax as a grin starts to grow on his face. He leans down, breathing heavily on your neck and taking your earlobe in between his teeth. "I still hate your fucking guts," he growls, sending a shiver up your spine.

You let out a breath at the words and reach down to grab his cock, and you start to swirl your hand around his hard length. He nips at your ear again before slapping your hand away, grabbing his cock and dragging it through your soaked folds.

Your head falls back and you grab his arm as his tip starts to tease your clit. "Sam.. please," you whine, arching your back off the arch. He moves himself to like up with your entrance, his tip just barely sinking in. Just that alone elicits whiney moans from you, so when he sinks fully into you a loud cry flies past your lips.

He almost pulls completely out before thrusting back into you, the sensation making your eyes roll back into your head. "This slutty little pussy feels so.." Sam breathes, setting the perfect rhythm. Your hands slowly snake up his body, the tips of your fingers reaching his collarbones, then moving up to the base of his neck.

His deep, slow thrusts are addictive and perfect, but you quickly realize they aren't gonna cut it. You crave more. You need more. Gentle Sam can wait for another time. "Sam... Harder."

Your hands gently wrap around his neck, squeezing slightly as his pace starts to pick up. So much for being gentle. Sam's fingers find your clit, ever so slightly putting pressure on the sensitive bud. "Look at you. Asking for more after complaining about having to fuck me again," Sam purrs, rolling his hips up into you.

"Oh fuck- right there Sam," you mewl. Every inch of your body is trembling and within minutes you're riding the edge of euphoria. "How does it feel, baby?" Sam finds a particularly sensitive spot that elicits the loudest moans and babies it, and his hand that's toying with your clit speeds up. "So fucking good," you whine, your back fully arched off the sofa.

Your moans and cries and mewls grow louder, you're not gonna last much longer. Sam's free hand presses down on your lower tummy, intensifying your pleasure. "Is my little slut close? You gonna cum, baby?" His narrow eyes staring deeply into yours.

"Fuck Sam im-" a guttural moan ripping through your chest cuts you off, and suddenly your vision blurs, your mind fogs, and burning hot white flames of pleasure flow through your limbs. "Oh shit- fuck," Sam grunts, and within seconds his hot release is spurting inside you. Warm ropes of ivory release paint your insides, the feeling making you roll your eyes back into your skull.

His thrusts and fingers slow down but don't stop, helping both you and him ride out the high. Your hands release his neck and drop to your side, the two of you stay just how you are for a while, the sounds of your heavy breathing and occasional whimpers filling the humid air.

"You know. I'm not the little slut you think I am," you roll your eyes. "Well, you certainly fuck like one. I mean, look at you," he looks down at you, and you hate to admit it but you do look filthy. Your legs are as far open as they can go and his cock is covered in your release as he slowly pulls out, juices dripping down your ass.

Your cheeks go a bright shade of red and you look down at the area "Whatever." His fingers collect the release, bringing it up to your mouth and once again forcing you to taste both yourself and him. You moan against his fingers at the taste, a smirk growing on his lips.

His fingers leave your mouth with a pop before he licks up your saliva and the rest of the juices. Sam walks off and you hear his feet pad across the kitchen, coming back with your clothes. He drops them on the floor, walking right past you to the bathroom.

He stops, realizing you're not following him "You wanna clean up or what? C'mon."

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader, Sam Kiszka x f!Reader (STAY WITH ME)

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 24.6k+ (i am so sorry)

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering: MDNI 18+ ONLY struggles with body dysmorphia/eating, heavy emotions/ talks of an absent parent, *extremely* sick & terminally-ill parent, mentions of sexually explicit scene on film being shot, anxiety/stress, stressing about college grades, worries/anxiety about failing, test anxiety, over-indulgence of alcohol (drunkenness lol), spook/haunted houses, people in scary clown makeup, mentions of jumps scares, *consensual* relations where people put their mouths in *certain places*(not full smut. yet.), ambulances, someone being wheeled out on a gurney (with a lifeless-looking body), JEALOUSLY. lots of jealousy.

a/n: i apologize for this chapter taking me literal years, lol. this one is a bit heavy & was a little hard to write at certain points. but, it's been my brainchild for over a month now & i had to be sure it was perfect before i posted it. i hope you enjoy & as always, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d'Arthur Masterlist

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The midterm pressure is now properly underway. With tests nearly everyday this week, a rigid filming schedule, work, and taking care of your mom, you’re on the edge of being worn completely thin. 

Not to mention, you’re awfully distracted these days. 

Filming has continued as normal. And you finally tackled that scene with Sam just weeks ago, and it went perfectly. Josh had a vision— to show the first fully intimate moment between the secret lovers. The first time their bodies become entangled in their heated passion. The ‘most significant image of the film in its entirety,’ as Josh had put it. 

You’d been scared. 

But after the kiss you shared with Sam, the one that moved far beyond the legendary characters you were portraying, the scene was performed to utter perfection. It was seamless; it felt completely natural. 

Something ignited within once you put the costume on; something you’ve never felt before. A new kind of assured confidence in your body that has never once exuded from you. Your body that you’ve hated since your first cognitive memory, the body that you’ve opted to shield with oversized clothes to hide yourself beneath their stitched fabrics. 

But, something happened.

After draping the thin lace over your frame, you were no longer you. You became a queen with a body worthy of being desired. 

Josh and Malachi knew just what they were doing when they chose that (extremely erotic) dress. 

For once, instead of being ashamed of your skin, you were fucking proud of it. You looked goddamn good.

And by the way Jake had been frozen solid in the door frame with his eyes locked on your exposed figure, you’d say he thought so, too. 

You’d half expected him to drop to his knees right then and there, to fully submit and hand himself over to your will. And he probably would have, had it not been for Nat physically throwing him out of the way. (Had you not been so utterly turned on in the moment, you probably would have busted out laughing at the sight.)

The scene was filmed the very next day (with tattoo makeup, of course) and you used that exact heated tension within you to perform your very best. 

When Sam saw you in the gown, his reaction was much the same as Jake’s. He was entirely transfixed by you; his eyes never diverting from your body. Not even once. 

You had belatedly decided to forgo nipple pasties, much to Natalia's surprise. There was something about the way you felt, with your breasts still hidden, but your buds peaking through the thin fabric. In a weird sense, it made you feel even more in control of your body. 

And the way Jake looked at them…

You couldn’t get his lust blown eyes out of your mind. He was, inadvertently, the reason why you felt so self assured during that scene, why you were able to give Sam such a heated performance… even if only a little. You had to credit his reaction for the help it had given you. It had been what your brain kept going back to time and again, anytime you swept the lace over your body. It was him who had helped you to have this overwhelming, new confidence when wearing the revealing piece.

(And you’d never admit it to anyone, but every time you put the costume on, you only ever thought of Jake. Not even his initial reaction—just him. When you felt sexy, he came to mind. And the thought of him alone helped your nipples to be prettily peaked for every intimate scene Josh would shoot.)

But Sam. Sam is the one who actually uses his words to reassure any unsureness you may have every single day. 

Sam is the good one. The sweet one. The brother who never fails to put a smile on your face.

“Y/n…holy fuck.” He had said as you met him on set the first day you’d worn it.

And fuck, he’d looked damn good himself. No shirt, tight satin pants of the purest white. His hair was fixed to look disheveled and tangled, framing his features and giving him a look of pure sex ridden lust. 

As heavy as the kissing scene had been, this one was levels heavier. 

According to the script, you were meant to be laid out on a bed of red satin. You, sprawled out before him, and he on his feet at the foot of the bed, admiring the vision that is the ever lasciviousness Queen Guiniverre. (The vision of you.) 

And admire you he absolutely did. 

With the same look his brother gave you the night before, sending flutters to your heart and a pulse to your core. You envisioned Jake, but you saw Sam. 

These two have entirely consumed your every thought. Sam has been in communication with you nearly every day, even outside of filming.

He conned you into giving him your number (not that it took much convincing) and he texts you, even calls you, multiple times a day. 

Just innocent small talk, usually. Something little will make him think of you and he’ll send a quick message to tell you what it was. Sometimes he’ll send a joke or two that will force a laugh out of you, along with an eye roll. However there have been a few times that he’s taken it upon himself to make sure you know just how much fun he’s having with you on this film, that he knows his body sometimes speaks his infatuation with you louder than his words ever could. 

And complain you will not. He’s a fucking dream, the sweestest man you’ve ever encountered. And so outlandishly beautiful. 

It would be strange for you to not develop feelings for him, especially given just how close and personal the two of you have become during filming. 

But,

Jake. 

He wrapped you into all of this. He showed you a side of him that you’ve yet to see since. You couldn’t deny him, although you had every reason to. 

It’s like he only wanted you to keep his promise to his twin of helping him find someone to play opposite of him (Sam, mostly, of which he clearly didn’t realize) and he only did so because you’re partners in this blessed project. Not because of who you are. 

He buttered you up, to convince you to say yes, and that was the end of it. 

Then, he went right back to his asshole ways. 

That’s why for the life of you, you can’t fathom the idea that you’ve developed much stronger feelings for him than for Sam. (Who is, obviously, the far better candidate.)

And Sam is the one who gives you the attention you deserve.

But fuck. 

The way Jake stared at you in that costume. And the way he didn’t take his fierce eyes off of you during the filming of your scene in that gown.

His jaw clenching with every kiss shared between you and Sam, his fists bunching up with each touch that connected your bodies. You heard deep, drawn signs coming from him when Sam caressed you. Furious sighs from flared nostrils. 

He ended up storming out mid scene, slamming the door so loud you all nearly jumped out of your skin. Thanks to that, you had to redo certain parts of the scene. Sam had made a joke about how he “wasn’t upset” to have to do it more than once. (And you weren’t, either.)

But not having Jake in the room made it slightly more difficult to put yourself back in the mood. His presence alone, the deep breaths filling his lungs, his stare casted on you each time you glanced his way— that was plenty of inspiration to perform your sexiest. 

But without him there, all you could do was picture him in your mind. Which you did with no problem. But it just wasn’t the same without his body in the same room as yours.

Before you left that night, you heard yet another fight commence between the twins.

“You should’ve told me it would be like this,” Jake fumed.

“I abso-fucking-lutely did, Jake. You just don’t listen worth a single shit.” 

Jake slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, “I helped you write the goddamn script and those scenes were not in there. You know that for a fucking fact.”

“Okay— so I took a little creative liberty and added a few things. I am, after all, the director for god's sake. I think I’ve earned the right. But you knew the plot, Jake. Don’t act like you didn’t,” Josh spouted. 

You’d gone to walk out the door before more was said. You felt guilty for listening, them both under the impression that you’d left. 

But you’d heard something more that kept you from fully shutting the front door on your way out. 

Sam was apparently in on this argument, too. And you’d overheard some rather interesting things regarding you— some things you haven’t been able to let go of since. 

“Just admit it, Jakey boy. You thought you would be the one enjoying all these scenes with y/n. That’s why you asked her to join the cast, isn’t it? You’re just pissed that I get to share these moments with her and not you.” 

Hearing those words come out of Sam's mouth was something you were not prepared for in the slightest.

You needed to just close the door and leave, to stop listening in on this conversation that you were most definitely not meant to hear.

But after hearing that, you just couldn’t bring yourself to take a single step. You had to hear Jake’s response. 

“That’s true isn’t it, Jake.” Josh agreed. “That’s why you’re all out of sorts with this whole thing.”

“First of all,” Jake raised his voice with yet another loud crack against the granite countertop, (His fist must’ve fucking hurt like hell that night) “I only asked her because I had to. We were assigned this ridiculous project together and I was not about to work on something alone with her.”

…that was a fucking blow to the heart.

“Secondly, Sam, I don’t give a fuck one about your special little scenes with her. What I’m pissed about is that you’ve made this entire plot about fucking, Josh. That is not the only goddamn thing that happens in the original texts.”

He did make a solid point there. But from everything he’d told you about the plot before you agreed, (which wasn’t much, if you’re being honest) that was the whole point of the film. At least to show their adulterous human desire, that their love for one another wasn’t a strong enough force that others couldn’t break their way through.

“Jesus, Josh.” You heard footsteps coming closer to where you were hidden, so you quickly made your way out the door to conceal yourself. Before fully closing it, you heard Jake say, “I don’t want to be part of a fucking x-rated film. That isn’t what I signed up for. And you’ve basically taken everything I’ve helped you with and thrown it in the trash. Why did you even ask me to help if you didn’t want to use me for anything other than your precious fucking Arthur that you’re ruining with these worthless rags you call costumes?” 

You quietly padded your way to the car as you heard Jake coming closer to the door. You felt you had heard enough, and you weren’t sure if you could mentally handle hearing much more. 

As you drove home that night, your car squeaking and rattling its way through the middle of Detroit, the sound of Jake’s words in your mind were far louder than that of your beat down Firebird. 

“I only asked her because I had to…I was not about to work on something alone with her.”

You couldn’t control the stray tears that fell down your cheeks. You’d always known that was the only reason he asked you, but hearing him say it…was something else entirely. 

At that point, you’d decided that you’re not doing this for Jake anymore. Not even for the sake of your class. 

You know it’ll get a good grade. That’s no longer a worry of yours. 

No; You’re doing it for the friends you’ve made in the process of this goddamn thing that you would regret doing if it weren’t for them. 

They way Jake’s family has treated you, especially in comparison to how he has treated you…you’re only sticking it out for them. Fuck Jake and his shit attitude that he’s given you since the first moment he met you. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You dramatically set your cold brew on the plastic table, throw your bag on the sticky floor and plant your ass so hard in the metal chair you’re sure it’ll be purple in a few hours. 

Elbows resting on the table, you let your head fall in your hands as you let out a long sigh.

“That good, huh?” Nat questions.

You peak at her through your fingers, taking in her almost apologetic smile. “I’ve not scored anything above seventy percent on a single midterm. And I still have one more to go.” 

True to her character, she pulls your hand away from your face. She’s told you before that she likes to see your full face when she talks to you— just another reason, that even in the short time you’ve known her, she’s been the best friend you’ve ever had. 

“And what is wrong with that, might I ask? Seventy percent is a C. And last I checked, that’s a passing grade,” she says with her slim fingers still held tight to your wrist.

You move your other hand away from your face as it falls limp into your lap. “I didn’t move over fourteen hours away to go to the school I’ve dreamt about since I was a child to make C’s, Nat. I want to excel. I want to make the dean's list. I want to leave my mark. I won’t be doing any of that with anything less than all A’s on my transcripts.”

She just smiles at you and softly shakes her head, a few perfect ringlets falling from her silken scarf.

“You will make your mark with or without a perfect 4.0, y/n. Your life is more valuable than a silly cumulative number that isn’t reflective of the person that you are.” She lays your hand down on the table with a soft pat against the back of it, her long acrylics leaving the gentlest, comforting scratches. “You have to stop being so hard on yourself, babe.” 

She’s absolutely right, and you know it. In the grand scheme, grades don’t matter as long as you’ve passed. But dammit– that’s just not enough for you. You can’t, you won’t accept anything lower than an A. 

You have to prove it to everyone who said you’d never make it. Everyone from your tiny hometown, everyone in this city who expects you to fail.

Everyone. Even your father who left you and your mom when things were at their outright worst. The man who cared more about his own well-being than that of you and your disabled, ill mom. You have to defy the standard, beat the odds. You refuse to become merely a product of your shitty situation. 

You have to show him. Show him that you’re worth more than he thought you were. That you can do just fine taking care of your mom and yourself. Without him. 

“It does matter, Nat. If I don’t do well now, I’ll never get accepted into a grad school and if that doesn’t happen, all of my hard work has been for nothing. I’ve proved fucking nothing.”

The sternness in your voice causes her to withdraw her hand from yours and sit herself all the way back in her chair, arms crossed in a state of defiance. “Who the hell do you need to prove yourself to? Why do you care so much about what other people think when I’m sitting right here trying to convince you that you don’t need to do that?” Her voice matches your tone perfectly, with seriousness and irritation present in her inflection. (Perhaps a bit more than you had anticipated. She’s passionate, you can’t deny that for a second.)

You pause for a moment, taking in the vast realization that you’ve never gotten that personal with Natalia on your behalf. She knows of your struggles with your body, and she’s done everything in her power to make you see yourself the way she sees you ever since you opened up to her.

She knows where you live as she’s had to pick you up and drop you off a few times for filming, so you’re sure she realizes that you live in a complex for low income, disabled tenants. She knows you leave and come back periodically if filming runs a little late, unbeknownst to her that it’s to take care of your ailing mom. But not once has she ever pried with a wandering mind. She’s been waiting for you to tell her. 

Talking about these things is just something you’re not keen on doing. It presents an awful lot about you that you wish you could’ve left in Oklahoma. 

It’s just hard. 

And it’s hard to know who you can and can’t trust, who will take advantage of you and who won’t.

But as far as Natalia goes, you’re certain you could tell her just about anything and she’d be the last person to use it against you. But that doesn’t make it any easier to say everything out loud. 

Suddenly, she stands up from her chair, the sound of the metal legs against the tile floor sending a shiver throughout your body. “W-where are you going?”

“Come on,” she responds, swigging down what’s left of her coffee. “We’re going to my car.” 

Instead of arguing, you stand up with her and gather up your things, following her as she takes quick strides towards the glass doors. 

“Why are we going to your car, again?” you ask.

“So you can tell me what you’re not telling me.” 

At first, you’re a bit confused as to why she’d prefer to go to her car to talk. But as you open her passenger door, you remember that car talks are always the best place for deep, emotional conversations to happen. That’s exactly what she wants from you, and as soon as you take residence on the black leather of her Escalade, you feel the unrelenting urge to spill it all. 

She slams the car door before adjusting body so she’s facing you. She rests her elbow on the center console, placing her face in the palm of her hand as she scans you with her chocolate eyes, waiting for you to speak. 

“It’s just…” you sigh deeply from your chest before you begin telling her everything. “I’m the sole provider now. My mom isn’t much longer for this earth,” The sting in your heart upon hearing yourself say those words feels like an electric shock to your system. Speaking them feels like pure bile leaving your mouth. But it’s true. And not saying it doesn’t make it not true. “So it’s up to me to take care of her. She doesn’t have anyone else.” 

Nat’s eyes soften at your vulnerability. Where they were once inquisitive, they’re now full of warmth and realization.

“I can’t fail her by failing myself. My education is just as important to her as it is to me. She didn’t even question it when I told her I wanted to come here for school. She showed me nothing but support, even coming with me when it was most definitely too dangerous for her to make the move. She did it anyway— she wanted to do it. She wants to see my education through as much as I do, and I’ll be goddamned if she doesn’t.”

“Is that why you go home so often? Why you can’t always stay very late for things?” she asks with a timid, sweet voice that calms your spirit a bit.

“I have to take care of her. Make her dinner, sort out her medications, make sure her oxygen tank is well tended. I’m terrified to be away from her, Nat. But she insists that I still live my life. I feel like I’d be doing her a disservice if I wasn’t, you know? But my biggest fear is that I’ll come home and she’ll be gone…and I wasn’t there to save her.” 

“Shit, y/n,” she says, hardly above a whisper. “I hate that there’s so much pressure on you, girl. What about a live-in nurse? Or home health? Is that something you could do?”

“Her insurance won’t cover a live-in, unfortunately. And there’s no way in hell we could ever afford one on my paychecks alone. Her disability plan claims she doesn’t need home health, and that is something I just don’t understand,” you respond. 

“Do you have any other family that could step in and help? What about your dad, where is he?”

You haven’t spoken of your dad since he left. You’ve hardly given him a single thought, even. The move was another way of purging him from your life completely— leaving the home you had once shared with him, getting rid of all of the stained memories once and for all. 

You know that deep down there are plenty of happy memories of him somewhere, buried, in your psyche. But after the way he just up and left you and your mom as soon as her diagnosis was confirmed, the way he left in the middle of the night with no warning and leaving you to manage it all yourself, it’s hard to muster up a single pleasant feeling towards him. 

“I wouldn’t care to know, if  I’m honest.” You chuckle rather cynically,  “The very moment he found out my mom could no longer serve his needs, that he would have to actually take care of someone for once in his goddamn life, he fucking ditched. Left over a year ago, haven’t seen nor heard from him since.”

Your life changed forever when you woke up that morning to his stuff cleaned out of the house, his oil stained spot in the driveway missing his pickup truck, and nothing but a handwritten note on the fridge that said ‘I’m so sorry, baby girl -Daddy.’

From that very moment, you became your moms entire world. Her one and only ‘person.’ It was no longer your life you were living for. She needed someone to take care of her, and the person that vowed to do that in ‘sickness and in health’ left. Just fucking left.

“He is who I have to prove myself to. That fucking asshole needs to know just how well I’ve done— how well we’ve both done without him. I don’t need him to take care of her, to get myself through school and graduate with fucking honors, and then go on to get my masters. I can do it all without him.”

Heavy tears begin to well in your tear ducts, tears that have been begging to be shed since the day he left. But you haven’t allowed yourself to cry over it. You swore to yourself that you’d be strong for your mom. 

“Y/n I–I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have asked.” She most definitely picked up on the sudden onset of your emotions. As much as you try to hold it back, you just can’t any longer. Your flushed cheeks become soaked with your tears. You're sad, but more than anything, you’re angry. Angry for you, angry for you mom. You haven’t allowed yourself to properly feel any of it. From finding out your moms terminal diagnosis, to your dad abandoning you the very next day. You haven’t done a bit of healing since. 

But something about her presence makes you feel like it’s okay to show your emotions, to at last let them come to the surface for the first time since everything has happened. 

You try to tell her it’s okay, that you actually really needed this. But the words are incoherent behind your sobs. 

She takes note and doesn’t say anything more. She reaches her arms out towards you and you lean forward, falling into her embrace. 

She rests her head on yours, her own tears falling onto your hair. Her empathy is something you treasure most in your friendship. 

She always knows the right thing to say, and she always knows when words aren’t necessary. Right now is most definitely one of those times. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“I can help whoever’s next!” You shout to the small line of students filling the lobby, each one hugging a pile of books flush to their chests as they patiently await you and Natalia, stationed at the other computer behind the desk, to lend them their study tools.

Work has been especially hectic this week as everyone is cramming in their last minute studies. Each computer designated for student use has been occupied nearly everyday this week, but even with the prominence and accessibility of the internet these days, there have been plenty of students checking out real hard backed, leather bound books as well.

As an avid reader yourself, it brings a spark of joy to your heart to see so many people still reading physical forms of literature.

You’ve loved seeing the mass array of books that have come through the counter this evening, ranging from the iconic literary classics all the way to the Fundamentals of Trigonometry.

Next in line is one you recognize from your beloved (sometimes) class on the mysterious King Arthur. 

Toney Carmichael. The six foot something, brawny, platinum blonde wide receiver for the Michigan Wolverines. And one of the most academically scattered people you’ve ever encountered. 

You’ve made up your mind that the only reason he’s taking classes is to play football. He couldn’t care less about the school aspect of it all. 

He makes the most outlandish, blatantly incorrect comments during class each week. You question how he managed to weave himself into such a high level English course. 

Your first thought: rigged. Absolutely rigged. Someone pulled some tight strings for him to be able to continue his education so he can keep his precious football schedule. 

From what you’ve heard, he’s quite good. One of the best on the team.

Not that you would know (or give the slightest shit) about a single thing to do with that area of the university. 

You’re far too ‘liberal arts’ brained to understand the intense lore behind competitive sporting. 

You fight off the urge to roll your eyes as he quickly pads his way to the edge of the counter, plopping a mass amount of books before you, one even falling behind the counter and onto your keyboard. 

“Hey, Toney,” you say, with little to no enthusiasm.

You begin scanning the ISBN tags on his books, noting that they are a cumulative of the required semester readings for your shared course, all of them pertinent to the first half of the class.

You snicker to yourself, realizing that he’s waited until the very last opportunity to read these novels before the midterm test, which is tomorrow.

This class is very reading intensive; you can’t fathom waiting until the last moment to tackle all of these incredibly difficult reads.

Nine books in, you’re finally down to the last two to scan into his account. With a limit of twelve books that can be checked out at once, he’s cutting it awfully close.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight are next, scanned in and bagged with the rest.

At last, the final novel.

It's so torn up and ragged that you can’t even make out the title on the tattered cover. 

You scan the faded tag placed on the spine; Le Morte d’Arthur. 

Not just that, but the exact one Jake had returned months ago.  The one you wouldn’t loan back to him because you had a far better version that you let him borrow in lieu. (That he also hasn’t given back yet, you suddenly remember.) You recognize it as such now, though you didn’t realize it at first. But the computer also conveniently notifies you of the last six students who had possession of the book. 

You twinge a little upon seeing the name Jacob T. Kiszka in bolded arial font on the desktop screen.

But, no matter. It isn’t Jake in front of you right now, it’s Toney Carmichael. Star football player. (Sadly.)

You finish the last few steps, placing Mr. Carmichael’s receipt with the date of return stamped on the top in his bag. 

“Here you are, Toney. Good luck on the midterm tomorrow!” you say, bidding him adieu while handing him his stuff. 

“Shit, that’s tomorrow? I thought it was Friday!”

Idiot.

“Nope, it’s tomorrow. Better get to reading,” you tell him. He flings his plastic bag of books over his shoulder and nearly sprints out of the building. Again, you ask yourself, how the hell did he manage to get enrolled in his course?

You turn your attention back to the led screen, fully intending to clear the display in preparation for the next student. You’re met with the harsh realization that a certain name is still grievously present. 

It serves as a reminder of the very night he asked you to do this confounded film for his brother. Where the very seed of his kindness was planted, only to never be watered and die in the soil with his shit personality. (That somehow still hasn’t turned you off entirely. What the fuck, y/n.)

You see a student walking up out of your peripheral, and before you can tell them you’ll help them in just a moment so you can finish ridding your computer of Jake’s name, they slyly place a venti cold brew next to your hand situated on the mouse. 

You pause your task to snap your head up to see who in the hell brought you your go-to drink.

What’s the perfect distraction from Jake? His charming and equally stunning younger brother.

And god, stunning doesn’t even begin to describe the vision before you.

This is the first time you’ve ever seen his hair pulled back, tied in a loose messy bun sitting at the nape of his neck with a few strayed pieces framing his cheekbones. 

He’s wearing the most lovely blue button up embellished with cream colored flowers, left partially unbuttoned on the top to frame a dainty silver charm hanging from a matching chain, complete with a black and white canvas belt bag draped across his midsection. 

Fuck, the way that these colors accentuate his flawless complextion is rather elating. Your heart jumps a few extra beats when he makes eye contact with you.

“Sammy! What are you doing?” you inquire with an embarrassingly huge smile plastered to your face.

He flashes a smile that matches yours, the corners of his mustache curling with his sweet grin, his round eyes crinkling above his cheekbones.

“Figured you could use this,” he says while nudging the cold brew a bit closer to you. “Oat milk and extra vanilla, right?”

You pick up the drink and take a long swig of the cold coffee, sighing in relief at the feeling of the caffeine entering your worn down system. 

“I most definitely needed this. How did you know this is my favorite?” you ask him, taking another sip.

He looks to Natalia who’s standing near you behind the counter and throws her a sly wink. “A little bird told me.”

You turn your head to look her in the eye, while she quickly looks away and pretends to busy herself with something useless.

“Natalia Dolores! Are you the little bird?” you say with a shocked tone, a massive smile threatening to make an appearance as she attempts to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Woah, she middle named you, Nat. This is serious,” Sammy jokes, his lips tucked in a patronizing grin and his eyebrows hiked.

“Don’t look at me, girl! He’s the one that asked!” She wags her finger towards Sam, her other hand planted firm on her popped out hip. 

It’s staggering how the smallest act of genuine kindness, something as simple as surprising someone with their favorite coffee, carries a meaning far beyond the gesture itself.

Also, it just so happens that coffee is one of the direct lines to your heart. 

You snicker at her response as you shift your attention back to Sammy, catching the twinkle in his drowsy, honey eyes as they set their gentle gaze on you.

You can see so much behind them, so much that he isn’t afraid to hide from you. His unfeigned honesty is captured perfectly beyond his feather lashes.

But the only thought pounding from the screaming voice in your head…why couldn’t it have been Jake instead?

You quickly force yourself to shove that thought down immediately. It’s quite simple; Sammy gives a shit, Jake doesn’t. It’s time to put an end to your sad, unreciprocated little crush on Jake. His disinterest is unequivocally clear, he’s even said so himself. (Even though he had no idea you were listening in.) So why bother with your silly infatuation any longer when there’s someone far better giving you the attention you deserve?

“Thank you, Sammy,” you tell him, the feelings for his insolent brother waning as you catch the genuinity behind Sam’s smile. “You’re truly my knight in shining armor.”

“You’re quite welcome, your majesty,” he counters with a regal bow of his head. 

You smile at him as you take another sip of your gifted liquid gold, humming at the bitter sweetness as it falls down your throat. Perfection in a cup.

“You know,” Sam resumes, shifting his body to get a good look of the old building in which he resides. “I’ve never actually stepped foot in this library. Not even once. It’s quite beautiful.”

Nat, still standing behind you, huffs a rather obnoxious laugh that makes you jump a bit. “That’s because you’re never on campus, Sam. It’s a wonder to me that you manage to pass all of your classes.”

“Geniuses rarely have to try,” he retaliates, placing his elbow on the counter in front of him, resting his head condescendingly in his opened palm. “Which one of you ladies wants to give me the grand tour?”

“That’s a big fat hell no for me. Y/n, show the man around. I’ll take care of the front desk,” Nat says, logging herself back into her computer on the opposite end of yours. “But make it snappy. And don’t forget we’re closing early tonight! I want him out of here by 5:15 and not a second later.” she says with a cunning grin. 

You grab your coffee and walk around the other side of the counter, giggling as you get a look at Sam’s full outfit. He paired his rose patterned shirt with gray drawstring pants, covered in contrasting white stripes. 

 Sam matches your giggle, asking “What’s so funny?”

“Sammy,” you say through your almost uncontrollable chuckles, “you look like the fabric section of a craft store.”

Another boisterous laugh echoes from behind you, as Natalia chimes in with her agreement. 

Sam looks down at this outfit with knitted brows, smirking to himself while drawing a deep breath to say, “Well, jokes on you both. I happen to love the fabric section at craft stores.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“And this is my absolute favorite spot; the British Literature section.” You tug on Sammys arm to pull him closer as he smiles at your unbridled passion. “You’ll find all your British classics here. The Once and Future King, The Mists of Avalon, The Canterburry Tales,” You list them off as you read the titles off the exposed spines, stopping once you get to one you’re sure he’ll be intrigued by. “And, of course, The Adventures of Sir Lancelot The Great.” You pull the book from the shelf and flip through the first few pages, quickly noting the intense worn smell emitting from the bound paper. It’s clear that this book has been sitting here for quite some time. “God, I just love this smell. I could make a candle out of it.”

Sam gently takes it from your hands and takes a whiff himself, making a face that tells you he’s not as entranced by it as you are. “That’s an… interesting scent. Kind of smells like Jake’s musty room when we were growing up. Makes sense, with all of his old books he used to keep in there.”

No. Please don’t say that. 

“I know absolutely nothing about our beloved Sir Lancelot,” he continues, glancing at the words printed on the first page. “Well, other than what we see in the Monty Python masterpiece.” 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, The Holy Grail is, in fact, a masterpiece. You’re pretty sure you could quote the whole thing word for word.

“And,” he proceeds, “that he likes to bone the king's beautiful wife.” 

His eyes flick up from the book to meet yours. You can’t help the flush of pink that encompasses your cheeks upon his brash statement. (Or the heartbeat that is pounding at your very core.)

“I guess you could say that’s a pretty significant trait of his character,” you say, your soft tone cracking a little. 

He smiles at you as you smile back, quickly casting your eyes downward to avoid the prolonged contact that’s only intensifying the blood rushing to your face. 

You hear his feet shuffle a little closer to yours. That heartbeat you were feeling a second ago has now tripled. He gently takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, lifting it ever so softly so you have no choice but to look in his eyes. “Guiniverre could only wish to be as beautiful as you.” 

You move your glare to his lips, so soft and pink. You’ve lost count over how many times you’ve kissed them the past few months. How many times you’ve wished the camera wasn’t there during those moments. 

His gravity is pulling you closer to him, urging you to crash your lips with his in a kiss that would put everything you’ve ever done on camera to shame. 

But just as you’re about to…

“Sam? Y/n? Where the hell did you go?”

Natalia. Like clockwork. Here to ruin a special moment just as she did with Jake all those weeks ago when he saw you in the black lace gown for the first time. When she removed him from your sight. 

You curse under your breath, reluctantly stepping away from Sam as she stomps up the old wooden stairs and finds you both.

“You guys! I told you 5:15 and it’s…” she pauses to pull her phone from the back pocket of light wash mom jeans. “5:21! Sam, you need to leave. We have to close.” 

Sam hands you the book and you place it back in its designated spot.

“I can’t wait to hear more about his story,” he says as he walks away. 

“What? Whose story?” you ask absentmindedly. Your mind has become so jumbled with everything that transpired in the last few minutes, you’ve completely forgotten what you two had been talking about beforehand.

“Our good old Sir Lancelot. It’ll help me perfect his character on the screen, you know, like you said.” He throws you a little quick wink as he makes his way down the stairs, leaving you alone with Natalia. 

“Do I want to know what you two were doing up here?” she asks, her eyes opened wide and her hands settled on both of her hips.

You look back to the book you’d just put away, running your finger along the spine, stopping on the engraved Lancelot in gold lettering. “Just as he said,” you tell her. “We were talking about his character for the film.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

An air of confidence fills your lungs as you walk into Movack’s class. Finally your last midterm of the semester, and while the others haven’t gone as well as you’d hoped, you feel good about this one. 

This is the class you’ve felt the most prepared for. And admittedly, this is the one you’ve studied for the least. But, you feel you can get away with that. 

If there’s anything you’re sure of yourself in, it’s your knowledge of this lore. You’ve studied it on an academic and scholarly level for more than half of your life. Needless to say, you’re pretty well versed in it all. 

The only issue with this class: Jake.

He’s proven to be a bit distracting during quizzes, resulting in you receiving less than satisfactory grades. But you’ll be damned if you allow that any further. 

He’s disrupted things long enough since you’ve started classes, it’s time to forget about him once and for all and focus on what truly matters. 

He’s already seated in his spot, books opened flat on his desk as he does a little last minute reading before the exam begins. 

You don’t even look his way as you sit in your chair. You simply pretend he isn’t there, a method you’re planning to use for the entirety of his test. (And the rest of this semester, if you’re lucky.)

You sure as hell don’t smell his cologne, vanilla mixed with a musky sandalwood, that has bewitched you since the very day you met him. Nope.

And you certainly don’t care that he’s wearing a white button up that gorgeously flatters the leftover tan he still has from the summer. Or that he’s not wearing his John Lennon sunglasses that you’ve hated (sort of) for months now, allowing for you to see his sparkling, whiskey colored eyes underneath the shadow of his brown leather wide brimmed hat. 

No, you don’t care at all about these things. Your heart isn’t racing erratically at feeling his body heat radiate on you in the cold classroom from just how close your seats are.

Fuck. You can only tell yourself that for so goddamn long. And no matter how much you try to fill your head with other thoughts, when he’s sitting right next to you, drawing deep breaths as he’s focused on his reading, he’s the only one you can conjure up. 

Of course he would choose today to look the best he’s ever fucking looked. 

You hold your breath as you hear the clinking of his necklaces each time he moves to open and close his books, the ridiculous amount of silver charms he wears being one of your favorite things about him. 

He seems a bit flustered, sighing and anxiously rubbing his chin (a nervous habit, according to Josh) with each page he turns. 

Surely he’s not nervous for the exam…right? 

“The exam will begin in one minute. Please place any books you have under your chairs and silence all cell phones. The link to the exam has been sent to your school email through LockDown Browser. Please be sure all other tabs are closed as the system will not allow you to open the test otherwise,” Dr. Movack announces.

You tuck your bag beneath your chair and open your laptop, scrolling through your emails until you find the one from Dr. Movack for the test.

“Good luck,” Jake says in a monotone voice, still so alluring and sexy despite lack of tone.

He’s shocked you almost completely still as you sit there staring at the homescreen for the test. You don’t say anything just yet, giving yourself a moment to register that he actually spoke real words to you. Words that didn’t sound angry or annoyed for once. Something kind of sincere, even.

“Uh- yeah, you too,” you stumble in response. 

“The test will begin now,” says your professor. 

You try to read the first question, however your mind is turning it into a jumbled mess of incoherent words. You read it over a second time, slower to really focus on what it’s asking. 

But it’s no fucking use. 

Jake is clicking away at his keyboard, typing his answer with hardly a second thought it seems. You hear his silver bracelet (that you find rather appealing) hitting the side of his laptop and causing a hitch in your breath. 

The sound of his heavy breathing as he types should annoy you, but of course, it’s only affecting you further in your distraction. 

No. You need to focus.

You shake your head a little to snap yourself out of it, realizing it’s taken you more than two minutes to just read and comprehend the first question of the test. 

You're wasting time. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let this happen. 

In yet another attempt to reread the question, it finally proves worthy as your brain can make sense of it this time. 

Rank and briefly describe the Three Estates of medieval society. Then, describe their individual significance and contribution.

You rub your temple and your eyelids to relieve the tension before you begin writing out your answer, going as fast as you can as you’ve already wasted more than an appropriate amount of time on the very first question. 

As you type out your response, you can’t help but notice that Jake hasn’t stopped typing since this whole thing began. Curiosity has you wondering what question he’s on, since he’s clearly flying through this thing with absolutely no problem. 

You glance up at Dr. Movack to see him seated at his desk, eyes cast downward at his own computer. You then look around the room a bit, each student fully attentive to their own test. 

Turning your head to Jake, you sneak a look at his computer to see what question he’s on. 

Number five. Already. And you’re still stuck on the first one. Pathetic. 

As you turn your attention back to your screen, you hear someone clearing their throat rather loudly. But it’s not coming from just anyone, it’s coming from Dr. Movack. 

“Ms. Y/n.” His deep voice startles you, your body jolting a bit at the aggressive tone bouncing off the walls. He’s now standing at his podium, looking directly at you while every student follows in his suit with nosey eyes cast on you. “This is your first and final warning. Keep your eyes on your screen and off Mr. Kiszka’s, or you will leave my classroom and take a zero for the exam.” 

Great. He thinks you’re trying to fucking cheat. And so does everyone else in this goddamn class. 

You’re not cheating. Didn’t even think about cheating. But how the fuck do you even begin to defend yourself?

“Sir, I-I wasn’t-“ You trip and stutter your words, trying desperately to make yourself look any better than you do right now. But you quickly realize just how terrible it truly looks as you scan the room to see forty nine sets of eyes glaring at you, judging you. And yes, even Jake’s.

He abruptly cuts you off before you can somehow explain yourself. Although there’s really no good way to explain it. “I didn’t ask for a response. Cheating is strictly not tolerated here and you should find yourself awfully lucky that I’m letting you off with a warning.”

Lucky. That word isn’t even a part of your vocabulary these days.

You nod your head in understanding, shamefully setting your attention back to your laptop. But the words are even harder to read now, as you’re trying to comprehend them between welling tears sitting in your ducts. 

The humiliation is settling in as you’re trying to finish your exam, but it all feels in vain now. 

Everyone in here, including Jake, thinks you were cheating. On Jake’s test, no less. 

So much for your fucking method of pretending he isn’t there. In no way did you manage to be even remotely successful in that pursuit. 

And not only did you fail yourself in that aspect, but now the whole class, including Jake, knows it was his screen you were peering at.

Humiliated doesn’t even crack the surface. 

You can’t win in this class, nor can you win with fucking Jake. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Walking out of class feels like the ultimate walk of shame. Worse than a walk of shame. Like utter defeat— an ignominy.

The most painful part is this is now the third time you’ve been the center of attention in the class— for the worst reasons. 

And to add even more salt to the wound, you only received a sixty eight percent on the test. A fucking D. In the subject you’ve considered to be your best since you can remember. 

And it’s not for a lack of knowledge. It’s because of the string of shit luck and continuous distractions that seem to follow you as of late. 

The uncontrolled tears are soaking your cheeks as you speed walk down the halls of Angell Hall, considering never coming back as you run down the concrete steps outside. 

You heard footsteps following closely behind you, but you couldn’t be bothered to turn around to see who it was. In fact, you were hoping that whoever it was would just fucking give up and stop following you. You thought that if you ignored them long enough, they’d just give up. 

But, no. They followed you all the way out the door, and now you hear them continue down the fucking steps after you. Relentless. 

You stop on the last step, having every intention of turning around and giving whoever the fuck is behind you what for.

But just as you’re about to, you hear, “Y/n. Will you please talk to me?”

Of fucking course.

With the sleeves of your U of M hoodie, you wipe away the streaks of tears sitting on your face, looking at the black marks staining the cuffs from your running mascara. You don’t want him to know you’ve been crying, but the state of your makeup is most likely a dead giveaway and there’s not much you can do about it right now. 

You snap around to see him standing at the front door of the building, hands tucked loosely in the pockets of his blue patchwork pants.

“What, Jake? What is there to talk about?” you say, your voice quivering from the tightness in your throat.

He walks down to the step you’re standing on, and you catch his eyes widen at your confrontational tone before he takes his sunglasses from his breast pocket and places them on his face, tucking a few hairs behind his ear.

“Well, first,” he says, using his index finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose the rest of the way. “Movack can be rather gruff at times, so just turn a blind eye to him. But second, I just want to know why you were looking at my test. You’re smart as fuck with this stuff, I can’t fathom why you would need to read my answers.”

You’re struggling to think of an answer. You want to explain yourself, to defend yourself. But where do you even begin?

Do you tell him that you were so fucking distracted by him that you couldn’t focus, inevitably causing you to take far too long to answer even the simplest questions, and that you just wanted to see how far along on the test he was to compare to your sudden ineptitude?

No. Not a goddamn chance. While the whole thing looks terrible, you find the true reason behind it all to be much worse than the cheating allegations. 

“I wasn’t reading your answers, Jake.” Your voice is still restricted from the lump in your throat that just won’t go away. But you shove it down as much as you can. The only thing that would make this entire thing worse is to cry about it in front of him. “It wasn’t anything more than my eyes needing a break from my own screen for a tenth of a  second. Movack already has it out for me, so I’m sure he was eyeing me the whole time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.”

He chuckles softly to himself, and you can’t help but watch the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down. And his pretty smile that illuminates his entire face, his cheekbones sitting high atop his glowing features… it sends an electric shock to your heart. You don’t get to see him smile nearly enough, and you wish so much that you did.

“You’re probably right about that one,” he agrees. “I swear Movack picks and chooses students each semester to single out. And you made it easy on him with those first few days in class.” 

There’s his sweet smile again, prompting goosebumps to rise on your skin and forcing out a smile of your own. 

You can’t tell if he’s being genuine or not; being the utter enigma that he is makes him incredibly difficult to read. 

And after hearing him angrily spit out his true feelings for you a few weeks ago, your brain won’t let you forget his harsh words. Of course, he doesn’t know that you heard. And you’ll continue to act as if you don’t know.

But, knowing what he said makes you wonder if anytime he’s being “sincere,” it’s just a facade. 

Still yet, you’re appreciative of the fact that he’s not outright accusing you. Almost coming to your defense, even. Not only that, but he sort of complimented your knowledge and academic abilities. 

At this point, you’ll take whatever you can get from him. 

“If you have any tips on how to survive his class the last half of the semester, I’m all ears,” you tell him, nervously twirling a strand of your hair  between your fingers. This is the closest you feel you’ve ever gotten to a ‘normal’ conversation with him. 

“At this point,” He places his hand on your shoulder, gripping it tight. You don’t even notice the breath you sucked in at his touch, feeling like you’ve suddenly forgotten how to blow it back out. “you’ll have to go above and  beyond to put yourself in his good graces.” 

He wraps up his advice with a soft squeeze of your shoulder before he steps down onto the sidewalk.  

“Above and beyond?” you repeat, matching his tone with an added sarcasm. “Got it. No problem.”

Although it would be a lot easier if you weren’t there to distract me. 

“You can do it,” he says as he’s beginning to walk away, adjusting his leather satchel over his shoulder. “Remember how you put me in my place on the first day?” he recalls through a laugh. “Yeah, just keep doing that.”

You dramatically cringe at the memory of your first day of classes, not really in the mood to ponder that mess just yet.

But he is right. That’s the only memory you have of Movack actually being somewhat kind to you.

“Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t have any problem doing that,” you say with a devious smile.

“That’s only if I let you do it,” he remarks with a smirk as he’s already halfway down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow.” 

Your tummy immediately fills with butterflies as you watch him saunter away. You weren’t sure how to feel about him being a decent human being… you just know you wanted more of it. More of the Jake you’d come to fantasize about from time to time in your cluttered mind. 

Like the one who throws one more small (devastatingly handsome) smile over his shoulder at you, still standing in the same place where he’d left you, before he turns the next corner.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Filming has just ended for the night. Jake filmed one scene and left just as you arrived for your shots, so it’s just been you, Josh, Sam and Malachi for the better half of the evening.. Things tend to go much more smoothly with this crew; you quite enjoy nights like these. 

You’re seated on their fluffy beige couch in the living room next to Sam, Josh and Malachi perched on the opposite end. With filming ending a bit earlier than usual, (given that Jake wasn’t here to cause any delay with his constant arguing) you’ve got a little time to sit around and enjoy a movie with everyone. 

Josh did ask everyone what they wanted to watch, however it’s clear he never intended to let anyone's preference determine what would actually be viewed. 

Once he turned on the television, he’d already had A Clockwork Orange queued up on the roku— it appears it was predestined for that to be tonight's film of choice. Not that you’re complaining, though. You do rather enjoy the madness that is this classic Kubrick film.

You’re no more than thirty seconds in the beginning of the movie when Josh says, “You know, Kubrick never really wanted to make this film. He thought the book was a yawn fest when it was presented to him. Just didn’t find much interest in it.” 

Sam and Malachi basically ignore him, merely nodding their heads while their eyes stay fixed on the blue lit screen. 

Still yet, he continues. “It was only when he imagined Alex being played by Malcom McDowell that he decided it’d be worth a shot. Can you believe McDowell didn’t even know who Kubrick was? He’d seen 2001: A Space Odyssey, obviously, but didn’t know Kubrick by name. It’s mind blowing, truly.”

Now that is a fact you most certainly did not know. And being the massive Kubrick fan you are, you’re surprised you didn’t know that. 

“Wait, really?” you ask with genuine curiosity to discover more that he might know. 

Sam places a hand on your knee and squeezes ever so gently. “Don’t encourage him, y/n. Or he’ll never stop,” he says with a half grin. 

From where you’re seated, you can see Josh’s face perfectly. And even with nothing but the bright screen illuminating him, you see him roll his eyes and toss his hand in Sam’s direction. 

“Yes, really! Isn’t that wild?” Josh proceeds despite Sam’s interjection. “I bet you also didn’t know that his nod to Gene Kelly was improvised.”

“It was?” you respond with a bit more shock in your tone than you had wanted. You can’t help it; this stuff fascinates you. 

“Indeed my dear, it was. Kubrick directed him to do anything that would serve as a major contrast to the violent and sinister nature of the scene, told him to dance around or something. So, that’s exactly what he did. Took one of the most convivial moments in cinematic history and turned it into an example of Hollywood’s gift of euphoria, using it  against the very corporation it came from.” 

“How on earth do you know all of this, Josh?” you question.

“Because he spends all of his time studying this useless stuff,” Malachi jokes. He pulls Josh in by the shoulders and hugs him tight to his chest while they both bust up in a fit of laughter.

“Watch the hair, please!” Josh says, his voice muffled by Malachi's shirt.

You’ve truly come to admire their relationship over the short time you’ve known them. The love they have for one another and the love they each give to everyone around them, so selflessly and without condition— they are just wonderful, beautiful people.

You still can’t help but question how Jake carries the same DNA in his body as Josh, because they are so vastly different from each other. 

The movie continues while Josh throws in a few more tidbits, piquing your interest and subsequently annoying Sam. (That’s almost more entertaining than the movie.)

Sam seems to be a little antsy. Antsy over something else other than his older brother talking away about mindless things. 

You’ve noticed him glancing your way periodically out of your peripheral, and he keeps taking a breath as if he wants to say something but stops before he gets a word out. 

You can’t take it any longer. “You okay, Sammy?” you ask in a hushed voice, trying not to disturb Josh and Malachi. 

“Y- yeah, I’m okay,” he whispers. But you know better. Something is plaguing him, and you will get to the bottom of it. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, a little bit of inflection on the last word.

He nods his head and hums in confirmation, setting his eyes back on the sci-fi film while you shrug him off and do the same.

As many times as you’ve seen this movie, you still can’t help but cringe during the infamous torture scene. 

You verbally express your disgust over the torture being inflicted on Alex, holding your hands over your face and barely peeking through the space between your fingers. 

The guys all snicker at your squeamish recoil, opting to watch you versus the movie as your reaction is probably more riveting than the horrid images on the screen. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The early evening has now cast a full, lunar glow as time has drawn on with the movie now running its ending credits. 

Josh and Malachi have long since fallen asleep, cuddled up in an impressive knot together. 

You peel yourself up off the soft cushion and stretch your stiffened limbs as Sam remains tucked deep between the pillows, still awake as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone as you suddenly remember you haven’t checked yours since filming came to an end hours ago.

You reach in your bag to fish it out, only to find that the battery is now completely dead. 

“Shit,” you mumble more to yourself than anything else. 

Your mind is instantly filled with the worst case scenario. Is your mother okay? What might have happened in the time between your phone dying and now? If she was in trouble, there is no way you would’ve known. 

“You okay?” Sam hushes from his cocoon in the couch, lifting up a bit as you give him a sideways glance. 

You had just tried to turn your phone on, to no avail. Only being met with the red battery telling you that you’re shit out of luck. Deciding to play it off, you do your best to not overthink it as you toss your phone back in your bag. 

You feel your heart plummet with the phone the slightest bit. “Y-yeah,” you stutter, keeping your tone quiet for the sleeping lovers. You throw a thumb towards the door, connecting your eyes with his again. His expression is so concerned, his eyes mimic that of a baby calf. “I’ve just gotta go. Just a grade I’ve been dying to check and my phone is dead,” you lie through your teeth, starting to head to the door.

But just as you get to the door, his hand is over yours on the handle. Your heart rate admittedly speeds up at the proximity. Cute, sweet guy who you’ve been sitting closely with all night? Touching your hand? 

You turn your head back and upwards to get a look at where he is standing behind you. 

“Let me walk you out,” he offers, his tone kind but leaving no room for argument. “I don’t like the idea of you being out there at night by yourself.”

Little does he know where I fucking live. This place is nothing. 

But, again, you play it off. Company on the way to the car wouldn’t be bad.

“Okay,” you grin. And he’s so close, you can’t help but blush as you open the door under his hand, still covering yours. 

Once you get out to your car, you’ve built up a little bit of nervous energy from Sammy following you out. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a bit of a crush, and having him so near was doing funny things to your heart. 

You turn to the driver’s side door and go to put your key in the lock. 

“Thanks for walking me out, Sam,” you look over your shoulder, trying your best to look as cute as possible in front of your beat up, jank-ass car. “I really loved hanging out with you tonight,” then you turn back to open the door. “Have a good night, Sa—.”

“Wait—,” you hear him say, his voice anxious. You follow the tone of his voice, and turn to face him front on. You can’t help the grin that flutters to your features as you wait for him to finish. “I’ve—I’ve actually been wanting to ask you something. I just wasn’t sure how to do it, but— fuck it. Do you want to go out this weekend? With all of us, I mean. Well, with me, but everyone else will be there too.” he utters, stumbling all over himself as he does so. “Josh wants to have a party here with all of the cast and crew to celebrate being halfway done with the film, and then we’ll all go out afterwards. Well, just my brothers and I. Of course Malachi will come. And you, I hope.” He’s spitting this all out so quickly, it’s like whiplash trying to keep up with everything he’s saying. 

He seems…nervous? That is quite shocking to you given how close you two have been for filming. He seems to never have an issue in those circumstances. He’s incredibly confident and sure of himself while he kisses you like no one has ever kissed you before. All for the sake of a silly college project. 

You smile at him and grab his hand before you respond, attempting to reassure him and make him feel more comfortable. “I’d love to, Sammy.” 

You can visibly see the anxiety wash away from his body as he relaxes a bit, loosening  his stiffened posture. “Great! How do you feel about haunted houses?”

“Haunted houses?” you question. “Like, spook houses?”

Your Oklahoma is showing, y/n.

Sam chuckles, “I forget you’re from down yonder,” he jokes with the worst fake southern accent you’re sure ever heard. “Yeah, like those. We go every year to them, kind of an annual ritual for my brothers and I. I’d really, really love it if you joined us this year. It’s a blast. That's what we’re planning on doing after the party. There’s a new one we’re wanting to try out for size.”

You’ve been so caught up in the chaos of everything consuming your life at the moment that you’d completely forgotten that Halloween is this weekend. Time has utterly flown by since your move. It still feels as though you’ve just begun classes at the U of M only days ago, when in fact, it’s been months since the semester started. 

“God, I haven’t gone to a spook hou– sorry, haunted house, in years.” you tell him. 

His face scrunches up in a tenderhearted grin at your correction. 

“It’s a date, then!” he exclaims with an enthusiasm that swarms your belly with tiny butterflies. 

He opens your car door a little wider as you climb yourself in the driver's seat. “It’s a date,” you repeat through a full toothed smile. He matches your grin as he gently shuts your door, bidding you a farewell with a sweet salute. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Each outfit you put on just doesn’t flatter you in the slightest. Every shirt is either too tight or too low cut, each pair of jeans has a weird gap in the crotch, your leggings only look good with a baggy sweater. And even though that’s your go-to comfort outfit, that is not the vibe you're going for tonight. 

No; you have to look damn good tonight. You want to look good for Sam, for him to see you in something cute that’s not just a film costume. (But there’s also the incessant part of you that desperately wants to impress Jake, too. And your usual attire just won’t do the trick.)

You dig through to the deepest crevices of your closet in hopes to find something that looks good, but also makes you feel confident in your body. 

The only thing you do feel confident in these days is your seductive wardrobe for the film. But, for obvious reasons, you can’t wear those to the party or the spook house. That is not the kind of attention you’re attempting to draw this evening. 

You stumble upon a black velvet skirt, short with a small slit on the left thigh. You’ve never worn it. You bought it years ago for a reason that you can’t seem to remember at the moment. But it’s managed to withstand the multiple closet purges you’ve done over the years, so part of you has clearly always thought it would come in handy at some point. 

Holding it up to your hips, you figure it’ll probably still fit. (Fingers and toes crossed that it does.)

It’s supposed to be a bit chilly out tonight, so you rummage through the second drawer in your dresser for the pair of  black tights you have tucked away at the very bottom under all of your other undergarments. 

You sit on your bed as you pull the tights over your calf, up to your thigh before repeating the same thing on the other leg, standing up to awkwardly pull them the rest of the way up over your hips and ass, covering the cute black boy shorts you chose to wear underneath that match your black t-shirt material bra. These particular tights have some serious tummy control— something you’re quite grateful for. 

Now, for the brutal moment of truth. Will the skirt fit?

You certainly hope so. Trying on anything can be incredibly difficult for you. You live in fear that nothing will fit you. Too big or too small, it doesn’t matter. Dealing with the size of your body in any aspect is paralyzing and far too triggering. So, doing this right now is a massive step for you. But, if it fits, it’ll be worth it. 

You undo the zipper on the back and step into the skirt on one foot at a time, sucking your stomach in fiercely as you zip it back up at your waist and clasp the small hook and eye at the top. 

As you let out the breath you’d been holding, you’re delightfully shocked to find that the skirt fits. Not too tight, not too loose— it’s perfect. A wonderful surprise that you truthfully weren’t expecting.

You walk over to your small vanity to take a look in the mirror sitting on top of the white wooden table. You bend down a bit to get a better look at the skirt, and holy hell. 

Your ass looks fantastic. And the little slit sitting on your left thigh is tastefully sexy as hell. The tights were a great choice as they make your legs look smooth and complement the black velvet beautifully. 

Now, to find the right top. 

Giant sweaters are your comfort, but you’re feeling like trying something a little different tonight. 

You have a dark gray, long sleeved mock neck that’s been hidden away almost as long as your skirt has. The fit of it has always given you wild amounts of anxiety. It’s tight. Like, skin tight. Yet, it’s remained part of your wardrobe for a long ass time. So, why not give it a try? You’re feeling a little more brave at the moment, and it might surprise you just as the skirt did. 

Shifting through the hangers holding your shirts, you finally find it. Still brand new with the tags. You can’t remember why you bought this, either. Perhaps past you was looking out for future you to have something hot to wear on this very night? Who the hell knows. 

You rip the tags off of it, figuring it’s probably much too late to return it now. You stretch out the mock neck a bit before pulling it on over your head, smoothing it over your breasts and down your stomach, tucking the length into your skirt and tights. 

You adjust the arms a bit, feeling a tinge of apprehension at just how snugly the material is clinging to your biceps. A body part of yours that you’re not so keen on accentuating. 

But as you take a look in the mirror, you’re shocked yet again— over just how good this looks on you, too. The tight-fitting fabric is actually doing you a lot of favors, particularly in the region of your breasts. 

The shirt isn’t cut in a way that would show any cleavage, but the way it fits around them emphasizes their shape, making them look rather perky as they sit perfectly upon your chest. 

The whole outfit is flattering you in ways you’ve never explored. The anxiety about trying something so far outside of your comfort is still ever present, but as of late, you’ve convinced yourself that it’s okay to do that every once in a while. 

You’re tired of being trapped in the prison cell that is your self conscious brain. It’s time to break free, and the confidence that filming has brought to you feels like the very key to unlocking the bars that keep your thoughts in confinement. And so does this moment as you’re seeing yourself in yet another new light. It makes you feel utterly silly for feeling as shitty as you always have. 

You glance at your phone to check the time, and you still have over an hour until you have to be at their apartment. You’re thankfully making good time, so you have plenty to dedicate to your hair and makeup to perfect it. 

You decide to throw a few loose curls in your hair, letting the waves fall around your face to frame it. Keeping your makeup a bit on the light side, you choose to go with a small, subtle black wing and black mascara to accent your eyes. You decide on a daring red lip, but not just any red lip– the same shade of red you’ve been wearing while you’re portraying the highly coveted Guiniverre. You grin as you swipe the scarlet color across your lips, thinking back to all the times it’s become smeared on yours and Sammy’s. The giggles that you two have broken out in over the mess you’ve created on his face. 

Digging through your jewelry box, you find some silver and gold chains you like to pair together. You place them meticulously around your neck, making sure they’re stacked to perfection. Then a pair of big hoop earrings that show beautifully through the loose curls around your face.

But just as you’re closing the lid to the floral painted ceramic box, something catches your eye. 

A little golden charm in the shape of a heart with your initial engraved on it. Your fifteenth birthday gift from your dad. You used to wear it every single day, up until the very day he walked out of your life for good. 

You threw it away that day. Tossed in the garbage the second you realized what he had done. 

While you’re not entirely sure how it made its way to Michigan with you, you’re willing to bet your mom dug through the trashcan to salvage it for you, hiding it in your box for you to discover later on. 

As much as you’ve struggled to contrive a single memory of your dad that doesn’t involve him leaving, looking at the necklace has your mind venturing back to the moment he gave it to you. Wrapped up so elegantly in a red velvet bag, with a letter from him that told you the story behind your name, how he chose it special after his grandmother that helped raise him when his parents gave him up. (Seems a little ironic.) 

You suddenly begin to panic. Where did that letter end up? Did you throw it away, too? God, you really hope you didn’t. But it seems like something you definitely may have done in the midst of your unforgiving anger with him.

But you loved that story. You used to make him tell you about your name all the time, and having it written down in his handwriting was something you held rather close to your heart until he up and left.

You start scrambling, pulling your tangled jewelry out in handfuls to see if it’s buried in there, but it’s no use. It’s not here, and you truly feel in your heart that it’s somewhere in the landfills of Cherry Tree, Oklahoma. Disintegrated to near nothing. 

It breaks your heart to think of it in that state. But maybe it’s for the better. Maybe that’s the universe trying to tell you that it was meant to stay back in Oklahoma with the life you no longer have with him. 

One thing is for sure, there’s no use in shedding tears over it. It’s in the past, and that’s probably the best place for it. 

You check your phone once more, realizing that you have to leave in no less than twenty minutes if you want to be there on time. 

You begin rushing around, looking for your black thigh length leather jacket (faux, of course) that you know will match your outfit perfectly. 

You find it buried under a few other coats on the shelf of your closet. You swiftly grab it and start heading out of the door of your bedroom, realizing that you’re still clutching the heart necklace in your right hand’s grip.

Mindlessly, you slowly place it around your neck, lining it up with your others so it sits in just the right place. You hold tight to the engraved charm, swiping your thumb over the initial a few times, just as you always did for comfort  in the years that it was worn.

The comforting feeling is still there, strangely. Everything has changed since you last wore this, yet somehow it all feels the same. 

The memories start to flood back like a tsunami, but you don’t have time for them right now. You don’t want to overwhelm yourself with it all. Wearing the necklace is just one step towards forgiveness, and that’s all you have the mental capacity for at the moment.

Throwing your jacket on your shoulders, you walk down the hallway to the living room to search for your purse and keys. 

Your mom is seated on the couch, watching her favorite television show and cleaning up the plate of food you made her. She starts to get up to take her dishes to the kitchen, but you stop her before she can stand all the way.

“Let me get that, mom.” You take them from her,  rinsing them off in the kitchen sink before placing them in the dishwasher. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with me gone for so long?” 

Tonight will be the longest you’ll be gone from her since you made the move, and the worry sitting on your heart is almost too heavy for you to truly feel okay with leaving her tonight. 

Your biggest fear is playing over and over in your head like a damaged record. But when you told her about tonight, she wouldn’t accept anything less than you going and having a great time. 

“You look beautiful, sweetie. Does my poor heart some good to see you like this,” she says as you saunter your way back into the living room to meet her warm, smiling face. “And I told you, honey. I will be fine. Don’t you dare fret about me tonight.”

Triple checking that all of her nighttime medications are out and within her reach, you also take a moment to check that her oxygen tank is full and that her mask is nearby should she need it.

“Y/n.” She takes your hand away from the tank and pulls it close to her. “I am just fine. Now get on out of here and enjoy yourself, sweet pea.”

She pats the back of your hand with her other, something she’s done since you were a child. 

“Okay, mom,” you utter through a deep sigh. “But please promise you’ll call me if you need me for anything, okay?”

She nods her head in agreement, sending you a warm smile yet again as she lets go of you and softly nudges you in the direction of the front door.

“Love you, mom,” you tell her as you step through the threshold. 

“Love you more, y/n.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You nervously pull your car in the lot of their complex. It’s been clanking around more than usual tonight and there’s an odd smell emitting from the engine. You’re counting your lucky stars that you’ve made it here in one piece. You’re hoping that having it sit and rest for a while is just what it needs. 

Your dad was always your right hand in fixing any issue that arose with your old piece of junk. Without him, you don’t even know where to begin. What shops to take it to, who will overcharge you and who won’t. Car mechanics are a foreign concept to you.

He even promised you a new one by the end of your junior year. It’s a pretty safe bet that that won’t be happening. 

Josh answers the door before your fist even collides with it. “Y/n, my sweet dove! I’m so happy to see you!” he exclaims, clearly more than a few drinks in as he holds one tightly in his hand.

He practically pulls you into their home, wrapping you in a Josh-famous hug while nearly spilling his glass filled to the brim with some stout, honey colored liquid. The same one that you smelled on his breath as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Joshua!” you huff, laughing at his loose state. “The night has barely begun and you’re already drunk?”

“Ah, yes! The night is still young, and there’s plenty more trouble to get into!” 

Your hand covers the sound of the giggle that erupts from you. “It sounds like you’ve gotten into enough already, Josh,” you say through your fingers.

His drink meets your empty hand in a clumsy ‘cheers,’ a few drops of his drink landing on your skin before he lifts his glass to take a big swig.

“The queen is here, everyone!” he shouts while stumbling through the crowded living room. You cringe at the sudden influx of eyes staring at you from Josh (loudly) announcing your arrival. 

You flash an uncomfortable smile, waving stiffly at everyone while you take your jacket off and hang it on the coat-stand in the corner of the foyer. 

“The queen, the queen!” Sammy roars from the kitchen, setting his glass down on the granite before swiftly padding  his way across the living space to meet you. He instantly envelopes you in a warm, soft hug, digging his chin in your shoulder. His coarse facial hair tickles your neck as you playfully squirm away from his embrace.

He takes a step back, amorous eyes flicking up and down your form. “You look intoxicatingly lovely tonight,” he whispers, taking your hand as he gives the tops of your knuckles a quick peck. 

Although he’s not quite as inebriated as his older brother, you can tell he’s had at least a few. Enough to sustain a pretty decent buzz. So, you don’t think his actions are completely due to the alcohol. Perhaps a bit, though. 

“Come with me,” Sam says while he drags you by the same hand his lips just met. “Your lack of beverage is deeply concerning.”

As he leads you to the kitchen, your eye is caught by Jake standing by the array of finger foods intricately splayed out on huge charcuterie boards. 

And fuck, does he look sexy as hell. 

His dark beige collared jacket over his loose, worn white t-shirt is something brand new to you, and his denim button up tied around his waist above his black skinny jeans shouldn’t be nearly as inviting as it is. 

You instantly notice the slightly cropped nature of his top, revealing just enough skin. Even the slightest vision of his lower stomach has your head spinning. 

But then you realize… he’s not alone.

And she’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. 

Her sun bleached hair falls just below her impossibly tiny waist. Her green eyes are complemented beautifully by her mulberry sweater, the deep neckline emphasizing her perfect breasts.  

He’s smiling, laughing, and she’s laughing right along with him, making doe eyes as he talks to her. She’s holding some bright pink concoction, of which she’s taking the daintiest sips, never breaking contact with his eyes.

You’ve never seen him so outgoing, so talkative. And it’s all thanks to her.

Sam notices your stare in their direction, and switches directions so you’re now heading towards them. 

“I don’t think you two have properly met!” Sam interjects. “Y/n, this is Stacy. She’s playing the woman that steals your man.” 

He laughs ridiculously loud at his own joke, obviously not understanding where your mind is at all. (How could he possibly know? But, still. Poor taste, Sam.)

She is Stacy. Of course she is. 

You’d heard about Stacy, but you hadn’t met her yet. All you knew was that she was the one cast as Camille, Arthur’s very own secret lover who will later turn out to be as evil as Morgan le Fey herself.

Nat has mentioned her briefly, telling you that she’s “kind of a moron, but a fantastic actress,” whatever the hell that means.

Her availability has been much different than yours for filming, so your paths have yet to cross. And since Josh has a strict ‘no pre-edit viewing’ rule, you haven’t seen any of her scenes with Jake.

And part of you isn’t entirely sure you want to. With how titillating your scenes with Sam have been, and the rather exposed nature of your own costuming, your wandering mind can only imagine how similar Jake's scenes are with Stacy and the costumes they’ve chosen for her. 

The script you possess only includes scenes with you, so you haven’t even been able to read any of Jake’s that don’t include you, which also means you haven’t even read any of hers.

You’d already made it up in your mind that she was probably quite beautiful. That Jake probably believes she’s quite beautiful, too. 

And you were unfortunately right. She’s a fucking goddess. You can’t hold a candle to her. And given the way Jake is looking at her, it’s safe to assume that he would agree.

Does he feel the same things for her that you feel for Sam? Why does it seem he gives her the attention you so desperately crave from him? Is she the reason why he has next to nothing to do with you?

It shouldn’t matter to the extent that it unfortunately does, but the thoughts are deafening nonetheless. 

You’re jealous. And there’s no reason to be jealous, but you can’t begin to help it.

Out of instinct, you bring your arms up to fold them over your chest. You suddenly feel like hiding once again. 

The thrumming bass from the loud music is keeping perfect time with the amplified beating of your heart.

Why do you have to care so much?

You swallow it all down, breaking free from your thoughts to be cordial with her. Because she has yet to give you a reason not to be, and you don’t want to be that jealous bitch.

“Hi, Stacy!” you exclaim with a forced smile and a reach of your hand to shake with hers. “It’s so great to finally meet you.”

She disregards your outstretched hand, opting to pull you in for an unexpected hug in lieu and nearly causing you both to topple over.

She smells fucking incredible. Like fresh cherries and oranges. 

She breaks from the hug, still grasping hold of each of your shoulders as you’re standing completely stiff in shock over the way she’s greeting you, as if she’s known you all her life.

With a giant smile, (displaying her perfectly white, straight teeth) she says, “I am so happy to see you! The boys have told me so much about you— well, mostly Sammy. He told me you’re a super awesome actress and has gone on and on about how pretty you are.”

Sam wraps his arm around your waist, giggling and blushing at her statement. You find his sudden onset of embarrassment to be absolutely adorable. You catch yourself smiling at the thought of him speaking of you in such a way. His sweetness more than makes up for the lack thereof from his older brother, who is standing stiff as a board behind Stacy. 

His eyes flick to yours, and they burn a hole through your own gaze before they land on Sam’s arm that’s hugged tightly to your body. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches before he gives Sam a look that you’re pretty sure could actually murder him if it were possible.

You can’t discern how he’s feeling, but whatever is on his mind, he certainly does not appear to be happy about it. 

You look up to Sam to see that he’s staring right back at Jake, even throwing him a sly wink before Jake abruptly walks away from the three of you without a single word.

What the fuck is his problem now?

You all stand there in silence for a moment, Stacy’s head quickly whipping around in the direction he left in.

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat to draw the attention elsewhere. “I’ve heard plenty of wonderful things about you also, Stacy. I am so excited to see you in the film. I bet you’re absolutely great!” You’re more so telling her this in an effort to relieve the tension that Jake so lovingly left behind.

She smiles before taking a few sips of her drink, licking the rememints off her full, rose colored lips. “Jake is just a dream to work with. He’s so patient and kind with me. And he’s just the sweetest guy! When he asked me to come to the party tonight, there was no way I could say no.” 

No. There’s no way she’s using ‘patient’ and ‘kind’ to describe the same Jake that’s been a rude, arrogant pain in your side for the past few months. He is most definitely not the ‘sweetest guy.’

You’re practically biting your tongue in half to stop yourself from saying anything. 

Why the hell has he been treating her so much better than you? What is so special about her that you’re lacking?

Well, aside from her Barbie-like beauty. That is something you can’t compare to, sadly. You’ll never equate to girls that carry her kind of flawless, graceful allure. 

And that is probably why you don’t receive the same respect as her. It makes perfect sense.

What a vain, fucking asshole.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You’ve been subtly eyeing them all night, watching as they’ve kept themselves tucked away together in a desolate corner of the living room, completely separated from the rest of the party.

He’s been ogling the hell out of her while she rambles on and on, talking his ear off for what feels like hours. (About something mindless and irrelevant, you’re sure.)

But whatever it is has acquired his full attention as they’ve basically not lost sight of one another since the night began. (Aside from the numerous times you’ve caught him glancing your way tonight. Maybe this outfit was a good idea.)

Sammy thankfully hasn’t taken notice of your wandering eyes. In fact, he’s been just as glued to you as the two of them seem to be. 

And if you’re honest, he’s been a welcome diversion. 

The drinks have made him a little extra clingy to you, and even more complimentary, as if that were even possible.

You’re asking yourself yet again why you care so fucking much about what Jake is doing, when you have Sam practically falling all over himself for you. (Almost literally, thanks to the alcohol flowing freely through his system.)

You’re still working on your first drink that Josh mixed for you, and you now know what Malachi meant when he told you to beware of an infamous Josh cocktail. There’s just a hint of lime juice swimming in an endless sea of Camarena tequila. (A Kiszka staple, you��ve come to find.) 

You can only sip on it gingerly as a full gulp would probably cause your blood alcohol levels to rise rather quickly, so taking it slow is necessary. 

“I think I’ll go pour myself another refreshment. Anything I can get you?” Sammy asks, effectively pulling your attention away from them again for the umpteenth time tonight. (Thank god he hasn’t noticed.)

“I think I’m good. Thank you, though.”

He gives you an inquisitive look as he downs the last few drops of what's left of his drink. “And you’re sure you don’t want something to eat? There’s plenty up there.”

You’ve turned down his offer at least three times now. He’s been questioning you all night about eating, but you just can’t right now. 

The fear of becoming bloated while in an outfit as tight as this, clinging to every square inch of your body, is far too great to allow yourself to indulge. 

If you want to look good, especially around the likes of Stacy, food is out of the question for tonight.

“I ate with my mom before I came over, so I’m really not very hungry.” That’s a lie. And you hate to lie to him, to anyone. But you don’t want to be tempted by him bringing you a plate of food. You’ve hardly stepped foot in the kitchen for that very reason. 

He just smiles and says “okay” as he stands up from the couch to grab his refill, leaving you sitting there by yourself. 

Normally you’d be grateful for the moment of solitude amongst the wild party goers as they dance and galavant around. 

But all it’s doing is setting your attention right back on Jake, who’s still conversing with Stacy. 

Only now, it’s much worse. 

Your stomach tightens and drops when you see him mindlessly run the backs of his fingers up and down her forearm, landing loosely on her waist as their proximity has become even closer somehow. 

You shouldn’t care. You really shouldn’t fucking care. But goddamnit— how you wish it were you. 

You’ve told yourself over and over again to let go of this idea that he could ever possibly like you. It’s pointless, useless. He’s made it plenty well known that he isn’t and never will be interested. 

But suddenly, he makes eye contact with you again as he’s wrapped up with her, and she doesn’t notice. She just keeps talking to him as if he were still listening.

But you can tell he’s not. His eyes are tightly fixed with yours, and this time, neither one of you are quick to break the contact. 

There’s close to twenty people between the two of you, yet they all suddenly disappear. The music has turned into a muffled, incoherent beat. It’s as though you’re both standing on either end of a tunnel, the rest of the world stuck on the outside, unbeknownst to what’s occurring beyond the cylinder walls that encompass only you and Jake.

Your trance is broken by Stacy taking hold of his face and turning it back towards her. You can’t hear what she says, but based on the movement of her lips, you’ve gathered it was something along the lines of, ‘who were you looking at?’ 

She turns her head in your direction, looking around intently to answer her own question.

But she doesn’t look at you. Because in her mind, why would Jake ever look at you when she, perfect and beautiful as can be, is standing right in front of him?

No. She’d never suspect it.

And maybe she’s right, anyway. You turn to look behind you to see a slew of beautiful girls standing close by. Friends of some of the crew for the film, you assume. 

He was probably just looking at them. Not you.

Never you.

You feel the couch cushion sink in next to you with Sammy sitting back down, clutching his newly fresh drink, completely oblivious to everything happening within your mind.

You suddenly feel your phone vibrate from your purse, and you unlock the screen to see a text message from Natalia.

It’s suddenly registered with you that she isn’t here yet, which isn’t like her to be late to anything.

Nat: “So, about tonight…”

You: “Are you okay?? Where are you, dude?”

Nat: “I *may* have a date planned, & I *may* not be making it to the party because of said date. ;)”

You: “A date?? With?? SPILL IT!”

Nat: “A certain curly headed boy who was also supposed to be there tonight. :p Any guesses?”

You glance around the room to determine who should be here but isn’t.

You still don’t know very many people in this town just yet, so the possibilities of who it could be are rather limited. 

It clearly isn’t Sammy. And it most definitely isn’t Jake or Josh.

Then, it hits you.

Daniel. Sammy’s best friend who has been nowhere to be found all night, who was most definitely supposed to be here.

You’ve loved getting to know him over the last few months. Everything runs extra smoothly when he’s around to help with the camera work, and he serves as the best mediator for the twins. (And Sam when he’s feeling extra ruthless.) Fights are almost non-existent when his presence is looming.

And he is absolutely sexy as fuck. The tallest of all the boys, and the most muscular. 

With Nat’s unmatched beauty along with her kind heart, the two of them would make the most ideal, movie worthy couple.

You’re sad she won’t be here tonight, but the thought of her going out with Danny has you far too excited to care. She deserves this.

You: “Danny?? SHUT THE HELL UP? I’m so happy for you!”

Nat: “Maaaaybe. ;) I’ll keep you updated! Sorry for ditching you tonight, love you & have fun!”

You: “You’re such a shit. Love you!”

“What are you so smiley about?” Sam asks, nudging your shoulder playfully with his as you grin at your phone. 

You lift up your screen to show him, his smile matching yours once he discovers what has you so giddy,

“No fucking way!” he shouts, taking your phone from your hand to get a better look at the messages. “He’s been wanting to ask her out for ages. Way to finally grow some balls, Daniel!”

Sinking into the cushions a little further, you accept your fate of not having Nat with you for the night. You’re going to miss her. You are not sure how you’re going to make it without her perfectly timed buffering. And tonight of all nights is the one where you need her as a distraction. A distraction from the continuously ridiculous display that Jake and Stacy are giving with their secret giggles in the corner. 

Next to you, Sammy’s small, drawn out cackle pulls you back. It brings a small smile to your face as it’s an honestly endearing sound–reminiscent of a laugh influenced by weed. You’ve gotten used to hearing it often, as Sam is always laughing if there’s a laugh to be had. 

He’s a good distraction. A good buffer. You’ll have him to lean on all night. You’re assured of this as he looks down at you with his big, beautiful, deep brown eyes. He’s pulling you in, making you feel safe in this overly crowded room. 

But another drink would be nice. Just to alleviate any tension that could unintentionally make its way into your muscles. It’s a humongous risk as Jake and Stacy leave their cocoon in the corner to make their way back to the kitchen. 

Yeah, you don’t want to go back there. You need a drink, but you don’t want to accidentally see them canoodling when that’s the last thing you want to be privy to. The drink’s a necessity, though, you realize as you already feel irritation flare in your veins at the thought. 

“You need something, hun?” Sam asks. 

You bring your eyes, zoning out on nothing, back to him. God, he’s so sweet. Why can’t he be the Kiszka you want most?

Not knowing what else to say or do, you figure asking him to run to the kitchen for you might be a good idea. You need the alcohol, and he would surely love to help. Perfect combo.

“I need a drink,” you say, a shy smile taking over your features. “And I’m too comfy to get up.”

You really feel bad making him be your errand boy. Especially when his face lights up at the prospect of possibly helping you. 

“Yeah!” He eagerly responds, getting up in no time. “Whaddya want? Mixed? Beer? Wine?”

“Glass of wine, maybe?”

“Dry? Sweet? Sour?”

“Sweet,” you respond, without thought. Sweet wine is always the only route. “Thank you,” you offer, blushing with the quiet thanks. 

“Sure thing,” he winks. Then, he’s crouching in front of you, his hand landing on your thigh. Your skin heats under his touch. He’s so fucking gorgeous. And he’s so close. And he’s leaning in. 

You lean forward, too, and capture his lips in an effortless kiss. So soft, his mustache tickles your upper lip just right. 

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and your tummy does a funny twirl before he’s standing back up with one more wink and a little grin that makes your cheeks flare red. “Be right back, sweet thing.”

As long as you can without having to move from your spot, you watch him lazily (and sexily) walk to the kitchen for your beverage. You’re biting your lip, still, when you turn back to face the rest of the party in front of you. 

Then you see Jake leaving the kitchen right as Sammy enters it. And with Stacy momentarily distracted, he lets his eyes wander. But, you realize, they don’t really wander– no, they go immediately to you. 

You’re still biting your lip, but you let your teeth slip just the slightest bit with the look he’s giving you. It’s haunting–almost as though it’s a best-kept secret. He looks…pensive. But his eyes are open, wondering and curious with his lips parted just slightly– so prettily. 

You let your gaze stay on his face–continue looking in his mysterious eyes–until Sam is the one exiting the kitchen. So, you turn your attention back to his face. He’s smiling at you, holding up a clear plastic cup, holding what looks like Pink Moscato. Your lips turn up at the sight, but let your eyes float back to Jake’s of their own accord… but he’s no longer looking at you. 

No, he’s looking at Malachi, who is still engaging in conversation with Stacy. 

But he’s not smiling along with their conversation. He’s scowling, his jaw clenching enough to make your skin feel hot. Why’s he so mad?

You choose not to think about it, instead averting your eyes to Sam, now back in front of you with your wine, setting his new drink on the table. You let your eyes settle on his ass in his gray jeans and you can’t help but appreciate the view. 

Then he’s turning around and his phone is getting clicked open from his pocket. 

Peering at the screen, you wrinkle a brow. 

“What’s–?”

“Twenty Questions!” He excitedly says as he hands you your wine and settles in next to you again. “Thought it could keep us busy for the next bit of time.”

Your eyes twinkle. He’s adorable. 

“Okay,” you smirk, taking a drink of your wine, which settles immediately into your cheeks. Warms you right up. And, yes, it’s Pink Moscato. “How did you know I love this type of wine?”

“Lucky guess,” he chimes, the apples of his cheeks pink after a swig from his brand new mixed drink. “You wanna play?” He flashes his screen at you again, lit up way too bright with the questions he’d found online. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a sure nod. “Give me your worst.”

And, without being able to help it, you’re peeking over your shoulder once more. 

You find Jake’s eyes, dark and waiting for you, before you’re both turning back to your tasks at hand. 

Your tummy is positively fluttering as Sammy asks his first question.

“What’s one of the craziest things you’ve ever done?”

Not helping the giggle that bubbles out of your chest, you know exactly what your answer is.  

Ironic. 

“Craziest things I’ve ever done…” you hum, already knowing what you’re going to say when you give him a tiny smile. “Well, one of the craziest things I’ve ever done is definitely agreeing to star in a project film with a bunch of people I really didn’t know worth shit.”

His signature cackle comes to join your giggle, and you feel totally at ease in the moment. 

God, he’s easy to talk to. 

“That’s fucking hilarious,” he responds. Then, there’s a wholesome smile under his mustache, his eyes encompassing a brand new emotion. “But I’m really glad you did it.”

And, with Sam’s precious face making you feel a little giddy, and the feeling of eyes burning into the back of your neck making your stomach feel heavy with want, you say the only thing you can think of. 

It’s simple.

“Me too.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The chill of the night is nearly unbearable as you’re waiting in the line for the hayride that takes you to the haunted house, and you’ve found yourself regretting your choice of attire.

Your pleather jacket isn’t doing a damn thing to block the crisp breeze, and the small amount of alcohol you had ingested earlier has completely worn off, so you can’t rely on that to warm your system. 

Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest in a desperate attempt to use your own body heat to warm up, but  there isn’t any heat left to be used. You’re sure everyone can hear the incessant chattering of your teeth and the jingling of your jewelry from your uncontrollable shivers.

Michigan cold feels different than Oklahoma cold. Your body clearly hasn’t adjusted to the northern weather as of yet. (It also doesn’t help that you haven’t eaten a single thing since you woke up early this morning, but you turn that thought away fast. You’re not ready to confront that just yet.)

You half expected Sam to offer you his coat by now, but he’s too busy cutting up with Josh and Malachi at the moment to pay you any mind. You feel too awkward to ask, so you’ll just stand here and wait for your body to completely ice over while you wait for this fucking hayride that won’t allow you to be any warmer than you are right now. 

Hell, even Jake gave Stacy his coat, and she didn’t even have to ask for it. He just did it. 

And it doesn’t help that she can’t stop making her ‘pick me’ comments about how his coat is so big on her that she looks so tiny in it.

You’re annoyed as fuck that she’s here. The way she chimed in before you all left, nosing her way in to figure out where you all were going, just to get Jake to ask her to come. And of course he did. Of fucking course. 

So, she’s here. Bumbling about and talking about whatever comes to her dull mind. But, her looks give her a pass. You’ve found yourself wondering more than once tonight why they didn’t cast her as Guiniverre. Her beauty alone makes her more than qualified for the role. And if her acting is as good as everyone says, it just doesn’t make sense why she wasn’t chosen.

You’re really wishing Nat was here. She would just get it and share along with your annoyance. But she would definitely say something along the lines of what you’re thinking. She’s not one to hold back like you are.

(And you’re starting to understand why she referred to Stacy as a ‘moron.’)

The line has been still for well over forty five minutes at this point, and you’ve not even moved a quarter of an inch since you’ve been here.

This better be worth it.

Stacy decides to join in on the guys’ fun, making an obnoxious show of herself as she does so. You know she’s only doing it for the sake of Jake’s attention. 

And apparently Sam’s, too. 

She’s got her arm interlocked with his as they stand in front of you, making ‘jokes’ with one another that might actually make you hurl. 

Sam is too naive (and still a bit too inebriated) to understand her little game, but you’re not. 

And it should be pissing you off that she’s suddenly all over your date, but at least it’s keeping her from clinging to Jake.

The vexed look on Jake’s face says everything you’re thinking— his annoyance isn’t quite as subtle as yours. 

You’re a little relieved to find that he is also not thrilled about the situation. Everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves, and it’s not that you’re not, you just wish you weren’t so damn cold. 

A sudden gust of wind hits you like a frozen freight train. It’s nearly painful, piercing through your skin to your chilled bones. 

“Jesus!” You exclaim from the sharp gale, causing everyone to startle and snap their heads in your direction. 

“You alright?” Jake asks.

You notice the bright pink hue on his cheeks and the very tip of his nose, and you’ve heard him sniffle every few minutes since you’ve been here. You kind of feel bad for him. Having given up his coat to the little blondie keeping Sam’s attention far away from you, he must be as cold as you are. 

“I’m fine,” you fib through your jittering teeth. “I’m just so fucking cold.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad out tonight. Actually this whole month has been much colder than normal, I believe.” He cups his hands, bringing them up to his lips to blow warm air on them before sticking them back in the pockets of his skinny jeans.

You’re definitely not used to this kind of simple, small talk with Jake. And his annoyed demeanor has suddenly vanished. He no longer looks completely miserable, probably because he’s now ignoring Stacy’s obnoxious, forced laugh as she’s still messing around with Sam, Josh and Malachi just a few feet in front of you.

You’re absolutely over her at this point. The way she will snort out a fake laugh and casually peek over at Jake to see if he’s looking at her— it’s nauseating to watch, really.

“I think there’s a hot chocolate stand over there if you wan-” Jake starts, but he’s interrupted by Sam.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t realize you were so cold.” Sam says, wrapping his arms around your frigid body and rubbing his hands up and down your back to warm you up.

You’re grateful for his body heat, the way it instantly puts your endless shivers to rest.

But you wish he would’ve waited until Jake finished his thought. (And you wish Jake were the one warming you up instead.) 

But while in Sam’s embrace, you catch Jake watching, glaring. 

His jaw becomes tightly clenched, his chest rising up and down rapidly with his deep breaths, his eyes narrowed in on you wrapped tightly in his brother's arms.

And even as Stacy waltzes her way to him, tucking herself into his body, seeking his warmth, (quite literally just mimicking you and Sam) Jake's burning gaze doesn’t cease.

You’ve stood like this for so long that you don’t even realize you’re all next in line for the hayride. 

Sam helps guide you in the back of the wagon, being sure you don’t slip on the unstable wooden step. Josh and Malachi pile in shortly after you, then Jake and Stacy. 

You wince as you take a seat on the sharp hay, wishing even more that you would’ve chosen something thicker than your skirt. The hay is stabbing you through your clothes, and no efforts in situating yourself to find a comfortable spot are proving to be successful. 

“Here, “ Sam says, patting his thigh. “Sit on my lap, you’ll be a lot more comfortable.” 

The dry hay may as well be needles poking your ass, so you don’t turn down his offer. Plus, his body heat will also come in handy as you’ve got a pretty substantial way to go before you reach the haunted house. 

He holds you close to him by your waist as you situate yourself on his warm thighs, but you hear a rather unpleasant scoff coming directly from Jake’s mouth as you do so. And so does everyone else, apparently, as everyone looks his way at the sound.

Sammy snickers, asking “You good over there, Jacob?” 

His condescending tone catches you completely off guard. And clearly has pissed off Jake. 

“Sam, it’s in your best interest to shut the fuck up.” Jake angrily retorts. 

Stacy is seated next to him, a ridiculous smile splayed on her unaware, perfect face. Giggling and laughing when she has absolutely no clue what’s going on between the brothers.

(If you’re completely honest, you’re not entirely sure you do, either.)

But the tension is evident, nonetheless. And she is obviously incapable of picking up on it. 

But what she does pick up on, is how you're seated comfortably on top of Sammy's lap, giving her the idea to also do that. Because for some fucking reason, she feels the need to always do the exact same thing you and Sammy do. 

You have to hold back your laugh as she moves to sit on Jake, and he tells her it’s not a good idea and makes her sit back down on a dirty piece of hay. 

Serves her fucking right.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

A slew of bloody, killer clowns lead you all out of the hay covered wagon. Their makeup is…mediocre at best. Not the most realistic you’ve ever seen but you can tell there was at least a little more than minimal effort put into their costuming.

Stacy, of course, is screaming at the top of her lungs with each move they make, attaching herself to Jake in an obnoxious manner that almost prohibits him from being able to walk. The look on his features tells you he’s less than pleased with her actions, but he doesn’t stop her. 

They then lead you all to the beginning of their ‘Three Ring Maze of Horrors,’ guiding you through the dark black lit entrance. The sounds of exaggerated screams and wails can be heard through their less than adequate sound system, playing on an endless loop along with circus music in an eerie minor key. 

A typical cliche; nothing you haven’t seen adapted a hundred times before. The concept is a bit overdone in your eyes. Being the horror fan that you are, you’re pretty desensitized to things like this. It takes a lot to scare you anymore. But, you still enjoy the atmosphere nonetheless.

Not only was Jake chosen to be the designated driver tonight, it was a collective decision to have Jake lead the whole group through the haunted house. Of course, Stacy is close behind, clutching his back and burying her face into his jacket, seeking her pick-me attention yet again from him.

You and Sam are close behind, with you in front of him. He’s not quite as brave as you are, closely mimicking the reactions of  Stacy, much to your annoyance. 

Josh and Malachi are the tail end, clinging to one another as they both share in their fear together.

You and Jake seem to be the only ones who aren’t phased in the least. He’s hardly even winced at a single bloody clown threatening to have him for dinner. 

But with every jump and yell of a clown, comes a blood curdling scream from Stacy that is far more dramatic than necessary. 

Again, you have to fight back your laughter at the fact that Jake quite literally shrugs her off and ignores her every time. It appears he’s not buying any of her shit anymore tonight.

Sam, on the other hand, is much more fearful than you would have initially thought. (Especially considering they do these every year. Surely he doesn’t think this one is bad, right?) 

He’s basically using you as a human shield everytime a clown reaches for him, squealing and bending down to your height to hide himself behind you while you simply look at the clowns and wave, being the pretentious asshole you are. 

You��re thankful that both him and Stacy can’t see the ceaseless rolling of your eyes each time they make a fuss over something that is not as scary as they’re making it out to be. Yeah, you’ve jolted backwards from a jumpscare or two, but the whole thing is planned out in a way that you can almost guess exactly when and where an actor will strike. It’s textbook for spook houses. Some of them (including this one) are incredibly predictable. 

As you’re finally nearing the end of this poor excuse of a fear seeking thrill, you catch the smallest glimpse of a grotesque clown's meticulous hiding spot. But he’s not hidden as well as he thinks, since you can still spot him even with the neon lights flashing about in an attempt to disorient your vision.

Jake is walking closer and closer to his spot, and you have a pretty good feeling that he’ll strike once Jake is within the appropriate distance. 

You see the clown prepare himself and just as Jake is in the perfect spot, he jumps out in front of him, letting out a rather deafening wail. 

Jake clearly did not see him, having the ever loving shit scared out of him and raising his fist to throw a punch at the actor. 

Thankfully, the clown tucked himself back away in his little hiding spot before Jake could throw his self-defense punch. 

Why was that so fucking hot?

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

After a rather interesting time out, you’ve all finally made it back to their apartment.

The night ran a little later than you intended, so you’re making haste in preparing to leave so you can get home. Sammy isn’t too keen on you leaving just yet, offering hug after hug in an  attempt to keep you here a little longer with him.

I don’t deserve him.

“Do you really need to leave?” Sam asks, his tone of voice telling you he’s got something special in mind. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t intriguing to you. “It’s pretty late, you know. I’d hate for you to drive all the way home at this hour. You’re more than welcome to stay here.” His wink sends a swarm of butterflies to your undeniably  eager tummy.

You hear Josh agree that it’s a good idea as he and Malachi are making their way up the stairs to their room. You instinctively look to Jake to try and gauge his thoughts, but, as usual, you can’t read his stone cold face.

If circumstances with your mom were different, you might agree. But you’ve been gone from her for far too long. And being away from her overnight just simply isn’t an option.

“I wish I could, but I’ve got piles of homework sitting on my bed waiting for me.” Again, that’s a lie. But telling everyone the true reason is a task for another night. 

“Will you at least text me that you’ve made it home safe?” Sam asks. His request sends a wave of warmth to your heart. The fact that he just fucking cares about you, and makes it evident.

“I will, Sam. I promise.” 

You start gathering your things that you left on the couch earlier, and as you’re about to open the front door, you hear something that sends a boiling heat to your blood.

“Sam's right, Stacy. It isn’t safe to be out driving at this hour. I’m going to insist that you stay here tonight.” Jake tells her. 

Don’t stay, don’t stay, d-

“I’d love to, Jakey!” her squealing voice answers.

Jakey?

“You can just sleep in my room, if you want,” he continues. 

As if your blood wasn’t heated enough, now it’s blistering. 

You cock your head in Jake’s direction, and his eyes are frozen solid on you.

He’s doing this on purpose. He’s getting even with you for all of your antics with Sam tonight.

Fuck you, Jake. 

She follows him down the hall to his room, and when you hear his bedroom door shut after they walk in together, you decide that enough is enough.

You throw your stuff back down on the couch and stomp your way towards Sammy who’s staring at you with wide eyes.

Non verbally agreeing to his inquisition, you wrap your arms around his neck and attach your lips to his with everything you’ve pent up from the entire night, letting it all out on Sammy who’s willing to take it with no question.

He doesn’t break away to ask what changed your mind, he just reciprocates the same passion you’ve bestowed upon him. He’s practically clawing at your body to bring you closer, shoving his tongue past your lips and moaning straight into your open, hungry mouth.

With no more thoughts running through your mind, you leap into his ready arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands reach to cup your ass. 

He starts carrying you up the stairs, holding your body as if you weigh nothing. His lips only detach from yours long enough to open his bedroom door and carry you in, carefully letting you to fall on his mattress. 

He wastes no time crawling on top of you, sucking the skin of your neck before finding your lips once again.

You grab hold of his white button up and tug on it until it reaches his shoulders, digging your nails into the now exposed skin of his back.

He lifts up to take it all the way off his body, tossing it across the room somewhere before gracefully flipping you both so you’re now on top, straddling him, your skirt now fully bunched up around your hips as his hands begin kneading the flesh of your thighs over your black tights. 

You grind yourself on his body in desperate search for a release to ease the built up tension tonight has caused you.

“Shit, y/n,” he hisses, moving his hands to your hip bones to help guide you even further into him.

The moan you let out is one you’re sure everyone else in the apartment heard, but you couldn’t begin to care even if you wanted to.

I hope he fucking heard that. 

You lean yourself down, your lips flush against his once again, making a show of sticking your ass out as much as you can.

“Y/n,” Sam pulls away from you. You chase after him, but he stops you again. “Hey, are you sure you want this?” he whispers.

You find his question to be utterly ridiculous. Of course you want it. 

Even though it may not be for the right reasons…

You lift yourself up to look him in the eyes, “Do you not want this?” you ask, a bit of defensiveness in your tone.

His hand reaches out to pull you back down to him, enveloping your lips with a long, drawn out kiss that steals every breath of air from your lungs.

“I have wanted this since I fucking laid eyes on you,” he utters against your parted lips. “I just want to make sure that you are ready.”

You don’t want to think anymore, you don’t want him to think anymore. 

Instead of using words to tell him just how badly you want this, you lift back up to tear your shirt off your body, leaving just your black bra on your top half. There’s no use in overthinking that, considering he’s already seen your breasts due to the sheer nature of your black lace piece for the film.

“Fuck,” he whispers, running his hands up your bare stomach, reaching to gently cup your still clothed chest. His thumbs trace delicately over your hardened nipples through the fabric, a rise in goosebumps enveloping your body. “You are so goddamn sexy, y/n.”

Just as you’re about to lean back into him, you notice something catching his eye. You instantly realize what it is. 

Fuck. You weren’t ready for that yet.

“What’s this?” He traces the outline of your tattoo etched under your right breast, no longer disguised under the heavy stage makeup you’ve used during filming. Your body stiffens at the realization. 

Now that he’s officially witnessed the most personal part of you, it suddenly registers what you’re doing. 

And the anxiety becomes all consuming. All you want to do is cover up, to hide.

At this point, you’re only doing this to get to Jake. It’s absolutely not fair to Sam, using him and his affection for you like this. It’s not fair to yourself, either.

This isn’t what you want. But you’ve convinced yourself that it is, letting it go so far that your best kept, most intimate secret has officially been revealed. 

You begin feeling a loss of your sacred identity, a piece of yourself that you weren’t ready to share just yet. 

It’s much deeper than the tattoo at this point. 

What the fuck am I doing?

You swing your leg over Sam, removing yourself from his body and searching frantically for your shirt.

You have to get out of here. You should’ve just fucking gone home.

“Y/n?” His voice sounds shaky and unsure. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it so far.” He stands from the bed to meet you, the concern painted on his features shattering your heart. 

As bad as you feel right now, you would’ve felt a thousand times worse had you continued this whole thing for all the wrong reasons.

“You didn’t do anything, Sam. I need you to know that. I just—“ Fuck. You don’t want to hurt him. And you don’t want him thinking any of this is his fault because it absolutely isn’t. “I thought I was ready, I don’t think I am. I’m so sorry, Sammy.”

You swallow down the massive wave of tears threatening to fall, but you can’t help the wetness forming in your ducts.

You’re angry with yourself for letting it get this far. You’re angry that you almost used someone who’s been nothing but kind to you to get to someone else, for your own selfish purposes. And you’re angry that you almost gave yourself fully to him without being ready to do so. 

And for allowing him to see a part of you that practically no one knows about. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, cupping your cheek. You know he can see the tears welling in your eyes, as much as you wish he didn’t. “Please don't be sorry. I’m only into this if you are. You call the shots, okay? I don’t want you to ever feel rushed.”

“I think I’ll just go home, if that’s okay.” You pull your shirt back on over your head, wanting nothing more than to be in one of your giant sweaters for just a semblance of comfort right now. 

“Of course that’s okay. Do you want me to walk you out?” He asks. His sweet, quiet voice is comforting you a little, but you can’t shake the guilt you’re carrying heavily on your shoulders right now enough to find enough solace.

You tell him no, that you’re okay to walk out on your own. You can’t bear letting him do anything else for you. You just need to go.

He hugs you goodbye, telling you to be safe and reminding you once more to text him when you get home.

You tell him you will, and walk out of his room, shutting the door behind.

As you run down the stairs, you’re immensely hoping that no one is down there to see you leaving but as you reach the last step, that hope you were clinging to is no more.

It’s Jake. Rummaging through the fridge in the dark kitchen, and to make matters worse, (and slightly more awkward) the only thing on his body is a pair of black sweatpants. 

And when he turns to face you, you realize how low they’re sitting on his waist. Low enough that you can see his hip bones and a small trail of hair sticking up from the waistband. Fuck. His hair is an absolute mess, tangled and sticking to his sweaty, flushed face.

You would enjoy the view, but you know good and well why he looks like this. And you know Stacy is still in his room, probably in a very similar state. 

He watches you while your hurriedly head to the door, not stopping to say a single fucking word to him. He mutters something to you as you shut the door, but you don’t bother turning around to catch what he said. You just ignore him, practically racing to your car to get the hell out of here. 

You throw the driver's side door open, slamming it shut once you’re seated. You sit in silence, laying your head on  the steering wheel while the levees in your eyes finally break. The tears are uncontrollable, and leaving right now would prove useless as your vision is completely blurred.

The disappointment in yourself is ripping your soul in two. 

And you feel so fucking bad for Sam. You made him feel as though he was to blame. But the real reason for everything that transpired is so terrible. This isn’t like you, to take advantage of someone for the sole purpose of making someone else jealous. 

Someone as lovely as Sam who absolutely doesn’t deserve something so cruel. 

You’ve successfully lead him on in ways you never intended, all for the sake of someone who can hardly hold  a normal conversation with you. 

You feel like you’re beneath the lowest levels of the earth right now. 

You’re just ready to be home. All you want right now is to be tucked away in the comfort of your bed, to finally go to sleep and forget about everything for a while.

And the reality of how long you’ve been away from your mom is setting in, yet another thing to feel guilty about. 

You choke back your sobs, fanning your eyes with your hands to dry them enough to see. 

You take your key and turn it in the ignition, waiting for the car to start.

Nothing. 

You pull it out and try once more. It almost starts to turn over, but the laggy engine isn’t doing anything other than sputtering and heaving. 

You wait a minute before you try again, giving it a second to breathe and praying to every god in the universe that it’ll start.

In one last ditch effort, you hold the key as long as you possibly can this time until you hear a loud pop from under the hood. Then, total silence. 

This isn’t happening…

You try the ignition once more just to see if by some miracle it’ll start, but it won’t even try to turn over now. There’s no more power.

Your car is fucking toast. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. 

The last thing you want to do is go back inside to ask for a ride. But at this point, your options are rather limited.

Your first thought is to try and call Natalia. But both times you try, it goes straight to voicemail.

Great.

You have to get  home, even if that means swallowing your shame and going back for Sam’s help.

With a reluctant and heavy sigh, you leave your car and drag your feet back to their apartment.

You turn the knob of the front door to find that it’s still unlocked. (Thank god you don’t have to knock.)

But when you quietly step in, you’re mortified to see Jake and Josh now awake and in the kitchen, snapping their heads sharply upon you entering.

“Jesus Christ!” Josh shouts, his whole bodying jolting forward into Jake’s in a dramatic display. 

You feel bad for scaring him so bad, but his comical reaction does bring a hint of a smile to your face. Although you’re far too upset to laugh right now. 

“You okay, love?” Josh asks with a gentle voice while he quickly walks over to you, looking at you with sweet concern.

You know for a fact that your mascara has left streaks of black down your face, so you’re sure you look absolutely insane right now but you couldn’t be bothered to fix it before you came back inside. 

“Um, my car-“ you start, clearing your throat to strengthen your weak voice. “My car broke down and I need a ride. I really have to get home.”

Without as much as a single question, Josh takes his coat off the rack and grabs his keys off the hook beside the door, but he’s promptly cut off by Jake swiping them away from his hand.

“You’ve been drinking, Josh,” he says while hanging the keys back in their spot. “Driving isn’t a good idea.”

“She needs to get home,” Josh argues, ripping his keys off the hook yet again. “I’m completely fine. I’ll take her.”

Jake takes the damn keys back again, this time shoving them in the pocket of his sweatpants to ensure Josh can’t get ahold of them. “No. There’s goddamn liquor running through your blood. I’m not letting you drive. Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

“Do you want to take her, then?” Josh asserts, rubbing a frustrated hand across his forehead. 

God, please no. 

The thought of being in a car alone with Jake is enough to make you put your foot down on that idea. But you’re also not too keen on him seeing that you live in one of the most rundown, shitty complexes in the entire city. 

But Jake is right, as much as you’d hate to admit. With as intoxicated as Josh had been earlier, it’s not smart that he drives you. You can still smell the alcohol on his breath and he’s not even standing that close to you.

“Just go get Sam,” Jake responds, stomping off to his room. 

Josh grunts and matches his heavy footing up the stairs to Sam’s room, leaving you standing there alone and wondering what the fuck this whole night has become. 

A few minutes pass, and as Josh is heading back down the stairs, you notice he’s alone and appearing even more irate than he was previously. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n. He’s completely passed out and won’t move. I’ll just have to get Jake to take you since he’s so insistent that I can’t drive.”

Fuck. 

Before you can oppose, he’s already knocking on his door.

“Jake, put a goddamn shirt on and take her home.” He yells, not caring enough to quiet his voice for the sake of the others who are fast asleep. 

You take a peek down the hallway to catch Jake tossing open the door, damn near slamming Josh with it while aggressively putting on a Jimi Hendrix hoodie.

Stepping into a pair of black vans, he takes what you assume are his keys from the hook, already halfway out the door before he asks, “Are you coming, y/n?”

His tone pisses you the hell off— he’s not hiding the fact that he’s not thrilled about this. Both with his tone of voice and his assertive body language.

Sorry to inconvenience you so goddamn much. 

You’re not in any mental state to argue; getting home is your only goal right now. 

“Yep.” You sneer, grudgingly following him out the door to his car.

You had seen the practically brand new, matte black Range Rover sitting in the parking lot plenty of times, but you never gathered that it was his. 

Although you should have guessed, given the way it so perfectly matches his aesthetic. You recently discovered his affinity for all things piratical, learning from Josh that the medallions he wears around his neck are ancient coins found amongst the ruins of old shipwrecks. He also told you about Jake’s childhood obsession with Johnny Depp's famous portrayal of the beloved Jack Sparrow character, so you’re not the least bit surprised when you see ‘BLK PRL’ engraved in the metal license plate. Clearly a nod to that part of himself. (That you can’t help but find awfully endearing.)

It’s nice. Really fucking nice. And clearly very well taken care of as there’s not a single flaw to be found.

The question remains– how the hell does a college student afford one of the nicest apartments you’ve ever seen and a new Range Rover? 

You still don’t know what he does for work, but you don’t care enough at the moment to find out.

To your shock, he pulls a pure gentleman move by opening the passengers door for you and helping you in his car. Something you certainly hadn’t planned on but found rather charming. 

Once he verifies that you’re in and secure, he shuts the door and heads to the drivers side, letting himself in and starting the engine. 

He begins backing out of the driveway, one hand on the steering wheel and one on the headrest of your seat, his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth in concentration. You find it all to be inexplicably attractive and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

But when his eyes catch your stare, you look away, hoping he doesn't realize just how long you’d been watching. 

“Where do you live?” he asks while putting the car in drive. 

You don’t want to tell him. You don’t want him knowing that you live in one of the worst areas in the entire Detroit, Ann Arbor area. 

But you no longer have a choice. 

“Redwood Apartments,” you say quietly, wishing that this whole thing wasn’t happening. “Down on north Highland, just a block away from Meijer down the road.” 

“Yeah, I think I know where that’s at.” He nods his head as he begins to take off in the direction of your home.

The car is completely silent, the rumbling tires against the pavement being the only thing you can hear. Neither of you says a word for what feels like hours, but when you look at the clock, you realize your trek began only ten minutes ago. It’s a solid twenty minutes between your place and theirs, so you still have another agonizing ten minutes left to go. 

Once you hit a red light, Jake reaches to the center console for his phone and unlocks it, handing it to you with his screen open on his Spotify page. 

“Pick something to listen to,” he says as the light turns green once again. 

It feels utterly illegal to be in charge of his phone right now. But you’re also a fan of having something to listen to that isn’t your combined breaths and the sound of his heavy tires rolling against the road. 

You take the opportunity to scroll through his playlists, seeing literally hundreds of them categorized quite specifically. 

Picking the one titled ‘Fave Psychedelic,’ you scroll through until you find Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix. An old favorite of yours and the song you instantly thought of when you saw him put on his hoodie. 

You set his phone back down as the song begins, feeling your spirits beginning to lift upon hearing the transcendent tonality that can only be described as the Hendrix experience.

Even Jake can’t sit still, nodding his head to the beat and tapping his fingers to the rhythm of Jimi’s strumming. 

“Good choice,” he mutters, humming along to the classic tune.

“I must say, though,” he continues. “I actually prefer Stevie Ray Vaughan’s take on this one, especially when he played it live. He just exuded the very essence of Jimi, took everything he did and amplified the hell out of it while showing nothing but respect to the original masterpiece.”

Stevie is another favorite of yours. God, the hours you spent during your childhood watching him play, appreciating the passion and time he put into his art. 

You went through years being bullied relentlessly for your taste in ‘old people’ music, having never found anyone else who shares the same musical palate with you.

Until now.

Having this conversation with Jake is something you so desperately needed right now. 

“I completely agree,” you say, searching for his cover on Spotify and adding it to the queue. “The way he could make his guitar sing, like you can hear his emotion through his strings. One of the only guitarists worthy of being compared to Hendrix.”

You’re thinking about Jake’s style, his hats and choice of mostly black attire, his mass amounts of jewelry… it suddenly dawns on you that he must really love Stevie because his style is so closely linked to his. A style you’ve been attracted to since you can remember. 

You’re shocked that you’ve not picked up on that until now, but it perfectly explains your instant infatuation for him.

“Absolutely,” he responds. “They’re both my biggest inspirations with my own music. I have so much admiration for them, and Clapton, Petty, Harrison, all the rock and roll greats who incorporated the deep roots of the blues in their playing.”

Imagining him playing like some of your favorites… it’s nothing but elating. Your imagination is running rampant with picturing him playing the kind of music you’ve spent so much of your life deeply appreciating. The music that connected your soul to things far beyond the physical realm. 

“I’d love to hear you play sometime,” you say, turning a bit shy at your sudden valiant request. 

Stopped at another red light, he looks to you with the most genuine smile you’ve yet to see from him. “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You suck in a deep breath as Jake makes it closer to your apartment complex. 

Lights. Flashing of blinding red and blue. 

In the parking lot of your complex.

Fire trucks, police cars, an ambulance. All situated in front of the run down building. 

“What the hell is going on? I can’t even make it in the parking lot, jesus.” Jake is driving around in slow circles trying to find a place to enter that isn’t blocked by cops.

It’s all beginning to set in. You feel your heart plummeting to the depths of your stomach, your breaths barely filling the capacity of your lungs.

Your worst fear. 

You shouldn’t have fucking left her.

“Jake. Pull over. Now.” 

You pull your seatbelt off, grabbing the handle of his passenger's door but it won’t open. You try tugging on it further, realizing it’s locked.

Jake picks up on the urgency in your voice and abruptly slams on the brakes, throwing the gear shift into park to unlock the doors. 

“Y/n, what are you–” he tries to ask, but you’re already out of the car and sprinting towards the maelstrom of lit up vehicles. 

But as you’re stepping over the curb into the lot, an officer stops you. 

“Ma’am, you need to stay back. They’re about to carry someone out and we can’t let you over there just yet,” he says, holding your forearm to stop you. 

Using every bit of strength you can muster in the moment, you pull away from him and continue running. You hear him yelling for you to stop, but his shouting is muffled by the voice in your head telling you to get to your mom now.

As you make it closer, you see them pulling a gurney down from the second floor. 

The floor your apartment rests on.

They pull it down the stairs slowly, and they’re angled in a way that you can’t see who they’re carrying. 

All you can do is stand there and wait amongst the paramedics and EMTs who are trying to tell you that you’re not supposed to be here. 

But they’re blurred images to you. The only thing you can see clearly is the gurney being wheeled in your direction, squeaking metal being the only sound that fills your ears.

And as it finally reaches you, your fear is imagined. 

Her swollen face is distorted by an oxygen mask, her weak body bound to the flat table by straps holding her tight to its cold metal. 

Her right hand dangles off the side, swaying back and forth lifelessly with every push and pull of the wheels. 

You lunge yourself forward towards her, being stopped forcefully by two officers who’ve been telling you this whole time to step back. The weight of their bodies against yours knocks the wind from your lungs, hardly allowing your choked cry for her to be heard. 

“I have to go with her!” You scream as they situate the gurney in the back of the ambulance. 

One of the paramedics steps between you and the cops, taking your hand and looking you in the eye. The kindest  gesture you’ve encountered in the midst of this whole thing.“Honey, you can’t be in there when they take her. You can drive yourself and meet them at the emergency room, okay?” she tells you.

But your car. You don’t have your fucking car. It’s sitting completely useless at the Kiszka’s complex. Without it, you have no way of getting there.

You suddenly feel another hand on your body, your left shoulder. It’s warm. Firm. Yet soft and assuring all at once. 

It pulls you from your disorientation, grounding you. You peek over your shoulder to see Jake standing there, his presence crashing in like a wave of peace over the chaotic storm that has become your reality.

Your eyes become wet at the mere sight of him. 

He’s still here. 

“Come on,” he utters calmly, moving his grip down to your hand, interlocking his fingers tight with yours. “I’ll take you.”

a/n: i'd love to hear your thoughts about everything! as i said, this one was tough for me to write, but it was something i desperately needed to do.

i hope you all love it as much as i do. 🤍

(i would also like to apologize again for taking so long with this one. i promise the next chapter won’t take nearly as long.)

if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. ☺️

sending all my love!

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @klarxtr @watchingover-hypegirl @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface  @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflame4goinghome @heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @nina-23-45 @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon @gretasfallingsky @i-love-gvf @styles-canvas @mackalah @gvfmarge @sarafrusciante2 @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @highway-tuna @vikingsisthenewsexy @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @citylight-delight @blacksoul-27 @hippievanfleet @jazzyfigz @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @smoking-jakelane @hernameis-heaven

i'm fairly certain i've included everyone but if i've forgotten you, please let me know! (& i sincerely apologize)

[samkiszkasfacialhair]

Lay Me Down

Lay Me Down

Pairing: Sam Kiszka and Reader

Summary: You give a hurting Sam some love and attention.

Warnings: Mention of pain medicine

Word Count: 1.5k

Sam was hunched over his piano in the dining room, deeply concentrating on what he was doing. From the kitchen you could see him as you loaded the dishwasher. He’d play a few notes, write something down in a notebook, add to it, and then record it on his phone. After a few hours, it seemed like he had a whole song completed.

“Done!” he said as he stretched his hands up with his phone in his hand, and groaned. 

As he stretched, he arched his back slightly and you watched his purple t-shirt lift up, giving you a view of his lower back and the band of his underwear sticking out from the waistband of his gray and white striped pants. 

He met you in the kitchen and instantly pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. 

“The album… is officially… done,” he said, sighing as he took a swig and rested his forearms on the counter, letting his head fall down between them with his hair fanning out onto his arms and the granite countertop. 

“Well, the keyboard parts are done,” he corrected himself with a chuckle, his voice muffled. 

He pressed his arms down on the countertop and contracted and arched his shoulder blades slowly, stretching out his back from the fixed position he had been in for the past few hours. 

Groans and sighs escaped his mouth as he relieved some of the tension and stiffness.

With his head still down, he reached up with one hand and began massaging the spot between his shoulder and his neck. He dug his fingers into his skin in an attempt to loosen up his stiff muscles. 

This happened often to Sam. He would hunch himself over his instruments time after time, only realizing the side effects of his poor posture once it was too late. Thus resulting in many unsuccessful self massages, heating pads, and shoulder and back stretching that didn’t really do anything, causing him to be sore the next day regardless. 

You walked over to the other side of the island, placed your hand on his back, and rubbed up and down on him gently, leaning down with your forearms on the counter just as he was. 

“Take a hot shower,” you whispered, giving his hair covered temple a little kiss, “and come to bed, hm?”

He nodded, inhaled deeply, and lifted his head up to look at you with a soft smile and tired eyes. 

That soft smile turned into a bigger one once he felt you hand smack his butt gently, urging him to get moving. 

The once calm house bubbled with joy and laughter as two of you giggled down the hallway with Sam chasing after you as you headed toward the bathroom. Before you knew it, you were pinned between the vanity sink and Sam’s body with his mouth on yours and your hands in his hair. 

“Okay,” you laughed in between kisses as the countertop of the vanity poked into your spine, causing you pain, “Okay, you won!”

Sam pulled away, breaking the kiss with a very satisfied smile on his face, and turned around to start up the shower. 

Once Sam had stepped into the shower, you grabbed a few things from the vanity cabinets and headed to the bedroom.

On his nightstand you set down a hand towel, body oil, and a bottle of painkillers. 

A freshly showered Sam entered the bedroom in nothing but a pair of boxers, reaching behind his head, still rubbing his shoulder, causing the skin there to become a shade of pink. 

As he approached the bed, his eyes narrowed at the sight of the products on the top of his nightstand before turning to you in the doorway to the closet. 

“What’s this for, huh?” he asked you with his fingertips just grazing the top of the bottle of oil.

“Lay down, Sammy,” you said sweetly as you approached the bed in just a tiny matching pajama set, one which even though it was casual, it was still sexy and Sam loved it.

Sam did as you said, laying down on his back like he did every night he was home, assuming you’d cuddle up next to him until you both fell asleep.

But tonight was different. You had bigger plans for Sam tonight. 

“Lay on your stomach, Love,” you said as you grabbed the bottle of oil and lifted your legs to get onto the bed. 

Sam rolled over, pushing the sheets and blankets away from him to give you space as you joined him.

You crawled on top of him, straddled him, and sat down on his butt, to which he let out a soft laugh in response. 

His eyes were closed but one opened to peek at what you were doing behind him. His eyebrow raised with curiosity as he watched you open the oil and pour a decent amount into your hands, letting the excess drip onto his bare back. 

The second your hands made contact with his skin, his eyes closed once more. 

At first, you were gentle, getting him to relax and just rubbing the oil around from the waistband of his boxer briefs all the way up to his neck and shoulders, feeling every breath he took as you lightly smoothed your hands all over his back.

After a bit of warming him up, you began the job you intended to do. 

Pressing both of your thumbs into the dimples on either side of his base of his spine, you began. With pressure, you slide your thumbs up his back until you reached his shoulder blades. 

“That feels nice,” he said in a tired voice, almost slurring his words. 

“Shh, just relax, Baby,” you whispered as you repeated the action a few times before continuing with his lower back for a bit.

You kneaded the palms of your hands into the meat of his back near his hips, pushing and pulling at his skin and muscles, releasing some of the built up tension and earning a few more soft moans from him. Once you got a good motion, you worked your way up his back again until you reached the place he needed you the most. 

Grabbing the chunk of skin between his shoulders and his neck- you felt it. 

Every long rehearsal.

Every late writing session.

Every show from this past tour and probably the tour before that. 

You gave him a good squeeze, kneading his tight muscles with all the strength you had and instantly his once relaxed face tensed up and he hissed through his teeth.

“Hurts?” you asked, loosening the grip you had on him and gently rubbing your hands on his skin to soothe him.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “but it’s a good hurt,” he assured you. 

A small “Kay,” was all you replied with before continuing again.

You pushed your thumb deep into him while digging the rest of your fingers into the other muscles as more audible moans escaped Sam’s lips. 

As you applied more pressure, Sam’s eyes shut tight and his mouth opened.

A loud “Ah,” left him when you pressed your thumb into a previously untouched spot, which seemed to be the spot to hit. 

“Mhm, right there, get in there,” he groaned, almost pleading with you to keep going.

You giggled just a bit from his desperation and continued, leaning down to give his shoulders just a couple light kisses. 

As you continued, you could literally feel the tension in his muscles being massaged away, so you could only imagine the relief Sam was feeling. 

After some time, Sam’s groans turned back into hums, assuring you that most of the built up tension that was causing pain had left his body.

But what really proved it was the tiny closed mouth smile that appeared on Sam’s face as your hand movements became gentler and softer until they came to a complete stop.

Once all the oil was wiped up and a couple pain pills were working their way through Sam’s system, you crawled back into bed with him again, only this time, you cuddled yourself up next to him and he instantly pulled you close with his chin resting on the top of your head.

His skin was soft from the oil as you rubbed his back gently with your fingertips.

“Thank you,” Sam whispered lazily, “I’ll repay the favor for you.”

“Will you play me that song tomorrow?” you asked quietly.

“‘Course. And anything else you want,” Sam replied, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

As you rubbed his back, he rubbed yours, lulling you to sleep until his breathing became deeper and his hand stilled.

“This is all I want,” you whispered as you cuddled yourself closer to an already peacefully sleeping Sam.

[shimmerwindow]

i never really

They call it cuffing season, but you don’t have time for a relationship – finals are coming up, and it’s your junior year at your dream school. But there’s something about this guy, Sam, that makes you forget all about your degree. And his brothers seem to like it when he brings you around.

Pairing: Sam x female!Reader, Jake x female!Reader

Word Count: 70k (wip)

Cover by the lovely @bimbokiszka

This is a WIP that will be updated weekly-ish :)

General Tags: College AU, sexual content, friends to lovers, marijuana use, cigarette use, alcohol use, angst, debilitating levels of mutual pining, this is technically a forbidden twin fic

✧ indicates smut

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight ✧

Part Nine

Part Ten ✧

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen ✧

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen ✧

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen ✧

Part Nineteen

[emsfallingsky]

Indignation

Sam X Reader

Word Count: 10.1K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Angst, jealous, alcohol, mentions of cheating. Graphic sexual content, language, unprotected sex, choking? fingering, kissing, edging, name calling.

Four months ago

“Sammy, where were you last night?” you asked him, remembering the phone call from the night before. Sammy looked at you and shrugged, brushing you off a bit as he took a sip from his drink.

“No where?” he replied sitting back on the couch. You frowned at him walking around the side of it and sitting down next to him. 

“You sure? You made it seem like it was something serious- important…” you said, looking back at him with a look of concern written on your face. Sam shifted around in his seat a bit awkwardly, not breaking his attention away from the show you had put on earlier. 

Sam clicked his tongue to his teeth and cocked his head to the side looking at you. His expression almost looked like he was a bit pissed off and his eyes were set harshly on you. “No offense but it’s not really any of your business,” he spat, pushing his tongue to the inside of his cheek and taking another sip of his drink, his cold stare pouring into you over the rim of it. 

You blinked a couple times and frowned at his response, feeling a bit taken back by the sudden harshness of his voice. “Well, no offense, but I think it is a bit of my business since you made it seem like it was such a big deal and the fact that you suddenly had to do this ‘thing’ at one in the morning,” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest as you shifted your weight on the couch. 

Sam let out a scoff and twisted himself on the couch, so he now faced you. He let out a deep sigh, his eyes locking onto you, his brown eyes that normally were so bright and warm now looking dark and cold. ‘God, you really just have to fucking push at poke your way into everything hm?’

Your eyes grew wide and you shook your head, your mind feeling scrambled as a bunch of different emotions and thoughts swirled around in your head. ‘My fucking bad for wanting to know where and what my boyfriend is doing at one in the morning!’ you spat back, raising your voice a bit. 

Sam shifted in his seat and threw his hands up in the air. ‘See! That’s always the fucking problem isn’t it! Gotta be all up in my fucking business 24/7. God! Can’t even fucking breathe when I’m around you sometimes,” Sam spat back, scoffing while he waved his hands around wildly. 

“Jesus christ! You know that’s not true Sam! Just wanted to make sure you were okay since you wouldn't tell me. My fucking bad for being your caring girlfriend and wanting to check in on you,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Don’t get a fucking attitude with me! Fucking bullshit. You know what…I don’t want to deal with this tonight, I think I’m gonna leave,’ Sam spat back, quickly rising to his feet. 

“Sam c’mon! Don’t fucking do this right now. You don’t have to leave,” you said, finding your own self quickly rising to your feet. 

“Nah, I’m over this shit. Always some bullshit with you,” Sam replied, throwing on his jacket. 

“You’re seriously getting mad at me because I was worried about where you were and what you were doing at one in the fucking morning Sam!?’ you yelled at him, hoping your words would render in his head and make him understand.

Sam scoffed and was about to reach for your front door when he turned around, letting out a small laugh that you knew was anything but kind. He rolled his eyes, looking at the ceiling, pushing his tongue against his cheek before setting his eyes squarely on yours. He smirked at you and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "You really wanna know what I was doing?” Sam asked smugly. 

“Yes Sam, that’s all I’m asking,” you said, letting out a breath of relief hopefully about to get the answer you had been waiting to hear. 

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. ‘Went to go pay an old girlfriend of mine a visit.”

You felt your whole body suddenly freeze at his words. All the anger that had been pent up inside of you quickly washed away and a sudden wave of nausea came over you, settling into the pit of your stomach. “Y-you what?” you asked, blinking a couple times, trying to make sure you had heard everything correctly. 

‘You heard me,” Sam replied, clenching his jaw tightly together while he stared at you blankly. 

“W-what the fuck Sam. W-why- fuck! Did you…Sam did you fucking sleep with her?” you asked, feeling your mind start to spiral as all the emotions that were wracking inside your brain pushed forward all at once. 

“Cause, you’re fucking exhausting sometimes! Just needed a fucking break,” Sam said, running his hands through his hair. 

Hot tears welled in your eyes and your vision became blurry as you stared back at him. You felt the familiar ache of your throat constricting as you tried to blink back tears. You swallowed thickly and looked back at him, preparing yourself for the blow you were about to get. “Did you fuck her?” you whispered.

Sam looked at you, his face showing no emotion and his eyes looking so soulless that it made a chill run up your spine. “If that’s what you want to call it…then yes. I fucked her.”

Now four months later, you found yourself sitting at your vanity lazily swiping on dark eyeshadow as you tried to get ready for a night out. You weren’t too quick to hop on the idea of going out but after the endless nagging from your friends and comments that they had barely seen you since you and Sam split, suddenly the idea didn’t seem too far-fetched. 

You wouldn’t say you made much of an effort on deciding what to wear outfit and makeup wise, but you did decide on something a little flashier than your everyday wear. You decided on a black smokey eyes and to keep the pattern going, settled on a simple black dress that hung to your curves and your old, but trustworthy pair of docs. 

One of your friends texted you the name of the bar along with the address and what time to meet. You laced up your boots and grabbed a leather jacket and took a quick glance at your phone to double check the time. You grabbed your keys and were soon on your way to the bar.

As you pulled up to the bar, you took a look around noticing the fluorescent lights of the sign that bounced off the old brick of the building and a good amount of cars parked on the outside. The street had a few people walking by the outside of it and some stopped to check out the bar or make their way inside. You never usually come to this part of town so you weren’t familiar with this bar but based on the looks of it, it seemed like quite a popular spot. 

You parked your car and climbed out, walking quickly to the entrance since your gps had taken you through an alternative route, putting you a few minutes behind. You opened the front doors and quickly scanned the area before landing on your friends, seated at the corner and giving you a wave. You flashed them a smile and made your way over to them where they greeted you with big smiles and warm hugs. 

An hour or so went by and you were feeling good. The drinks were flowing and the alcohol had made you a bit more loose and you could feel the warmth radiating off of your face. You hadn’t realized but you had missed going out and having a good time with your friends. For the first time in a while, your mind wasn’t wandering back and lingering on the empty hole in your heart left by Sam. Instead, it was filled with smiles and loud laughter that you didn't know you had desperately needed. 

Your friend was in the middle of telling a story when you saw her eyes flash up above your head and then grow wide. You frowned and she ducked back down and met your eyes. “Fuck, I think I just saw Sam.”

You stared back at her, a look of shock on your face not knowing what to say. You opened your mouth to say something but she stopped you and took your hand. “Let's not let his presence ruin the evening. He hasn’t noticed you so let's just ignore him but it might be best if you don’t turn around,” she said, giving you a reassuring smile and small squeeze to your hand. You smiled back and nodded. Ignore him…right. No big deal. 

Your friends went back to chatting and you desperately tried to make yourself present in their conversation but you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that had crept up on you. Your foot had started to bounce and you found yourself taking frequent sips of your drinks trying to will yourself to not turn yourself around. You knew deep down you shouldn't but you desperately just wanted to catch a glimpse of Sam, just wanting to see him before your own eyes. 

You tried your best to shake off the feeling, trying your best to immerse yourself back in the conversation but you were suddenly drawn away by hearing laughter coming from behind you. A laugh that you could easily recognize and pick out anywhere. 

The tops of your knuckles grew white as you gripped your now empty glass that sat before you. You heard the sound of his voice in the background and you felt your jaw start to clench. You went to take another sip of your drink and when you looked down you noticed it was now empty. You excused yourself, walking over to the bar, making sure your back was kept turned away to avoid Sam. 

You made your way over to the bar, leaning against it while the bartender greeted you and took your order. As you waited, you plucked a straw from the dispenser next to you and began to fiddle with the end of the paper. You could hear Sam’s voice in the background and while it was faint, it was the only thing you were able to hear. 

The bartender slid your drink back to you and you gave a small smile as you thanked them. You took a sip of your drink and then you hear it again. The sound of his voice. You let out a sigh and clamped your eyes shut but then found yourself turning around to look over to where he was. 

Sam was standing next to his friends, leaning on a table with a drink in his hand. He was dressed in a denim button up that was held together by a single button, exposing his chest and a necklace that hung in the middle. His long hair draped over his shoulders and you watched as he lifted one of his hands, running it through his long locks. 

You felt your stare grow cold on him and you let out a small tsk, feeling anger start to boil within your veins. You found yourself disgusted at the idea that you had once cared for him after he showed you his true colors. Now the sight of him left you feeling sick. 

The word hate was one you didn’t often use but it was now the only word you could think of when you thought of him. You didn’t know how someone could be so selfish and ruin your whole relationship after you two had put in so much time and effort to build it.  

You let out a sigh and brought your drink up to your lips to take a sip. As you did, Sam’s eyes met yours over the rim of your glass. Your eyes immediately grew wide, and you watched as he frowned and blinked a couple of times before you watched his mouth form your name. You let out an internal groan and watched his face drop. 

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and sat down his drink on the table in front of him and you watched helplessly as he started to make his way towards you. You quickly threw back the rest of your drink and looked around the bar seeing a restroom sign and walked swiftly towards it. Sam was following close behind, calling your name and you fought with every fiber in your body to not turn around and face him. 

You rounded a corner and were about to push open the door of the restroom when you felt a gentle hand wrap around your shoulder, slowly turning you to him. You felt your body immediately freeze as you turned around. “Y/N, can we talk for a second,” Sam said

You didn’t meet his eye and looked down at the floor but his presence was something you couldn’t ignore. It felt like time was now at a standstill as the two of you stood in the small hallway. You took in a shaky deep breath only to be met with the smell of his cologne. You felt your teeth grit together and felt tears start to prick at the corner of your eyes. 

In the span of time that you two had broken up, you hadn’t really gone through what had happened much and let yourself fully comprehend the situation. You hadn’t spoken in full depth about what had happened, let alone come to terms yourself with it. All you felt was a deep pain and the only thing that seemed to linger was pent up anger and frustration. Now with him standing before you, you could feel that anger pulling at your edges, threatening to unleash your wrath upon him. 

The tears that now had formed in your eyes started to sting and you swallowed trying to push them aside. You blinked them back and shook your head, your attention still pointed down towards the floor. 

You couldn’t see it, but Sam’s eyes danced across your face as he tried to wrap his own head around everything. He opens his mouth to say something again but shuts it, not knowing how to get to you. He finds himself feeling a little lost and confused. There were times when talking to each other about the issues at hand had come so easy and natural and now as the two of you stood in front of each other, everything felt disconnected. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his hand start to come up but then you see him drop it. You hear Sam clear his throat and you can see his weight shift as he drops his head, leaning himself a bit into you as he speaks. “C’mon Y/N, just wanna talk…please talk to me.”

You feel the tears that were threatening your eyes spill over. You push your tongue to your cheek while you quickly shake your head. Sam reached out and took your hand in his. “Please…,” he sighs. “Look, I know I fucked up but…I-I still love you. Always have.”

Sam’s words hit you hard and you feel a rush of emotion spring forward. You hated the way he’s speaking to you and how he’s trying to sound sweet and empathetic knowing damn well he is at fault and the one to blame for all of this. 

The anger that you started to feel boil in your veins now felt like a blazing fire and every part of you wanted to scream. You slowly lifted your eyes off the floor and when you met his eyes, you felt yourself crumble to pieces.

His face was still handsome as ever and he had that look on his face you had seen many times before, that showcased just how guilty he truly felt. Sam’s eyes danced all over your face as he tried to read you and you felt yourself wanting to reach out and touch him but you pushed the thought aside. 

Sam’s hand was still gently wrapped around yours and you felt his thumb come to swipe over the top of it while he locked eyes with you. He swallows and you watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat. “I’m so sorry,” was all he whispered.

You feel your lip start to tremble and you watched as his eyes quickly glanced down, taking note of it. You quickly rip your hand away from his and shake your head once more before pushing open the bathroom door and locking yourself inside it. 

Sam takes a step back, taken by surprise by your sudden action while his eyes follow you as you close the door in front of him. His mouth is parted a bit, and his brows are knitted closely together out of confusion. He takes in a deep breath, clenching his jaw while feeling his own frustration settle upon him. 

As you now stand in the bathroom, you feel like your body is on fire. Your hands seem to have a mind of their own, mindlessly fidgeting with one another and your body can’t stand the thought of trying to remain still. You pace around the small room, taking in deep breaths while you try to calm yourself but find it nearly impossible. Your mind wrapped around itself while all of those ‘what if?’ questions shot its arrows at the walls you tried to pull up to protect yourself from falling down the dark hole you knew would send you spiraling.

With one final shaky breath, you found it within yourself to still your body for a second to try and get a better grip on the situation before you. The familiar ache that was left in your chest four months ago, was now once again making its presence known. You closed your eyes, placing one hand on your heart and inhaled through your nose, holding it for a second before releasing it fully. 

A long tear made itself known as it ran down the length of your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand. You open your eyes, turning over to the sink and seeing your reflection in the mirror that is set above it. You took a few short steps towards it, running your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth down the edges as you tried to pull yourself together. 

You took a quick glance at the door since you’ve been met with nothing but silence from the other end for the past few minutes. Maybe he left…

Just as you were about to reach for the door, you heard a few soft knocks wrap against the door and the sound of Sam’s voice followed right behind. “Please…please just give me a chance and let me explain everything. Look, i-if you don’t want to now…then maybe another time but, I would like to talk to you about everything. Just open the door, please…open the door.”

The breath you took caught in your chest and you stared at the door, your eyes darting back and forth while your mind began to race far too quickly for you to collect any rational thought from it. You hated that he sounded so desperate and that he stood there behind the door pleading- begging for just one chance to let him in. You opened your mouth and went to find the right words to say to him but shut your mouth, failing to do so. 

You crossed your arms in front of you, bringing one of your hands to your bottom lip, rolling it between your thumb and pointed finger. You truly were at a loss of words. Somewhere deep down inside of you, you did want to talk it through, and you knew you desperately needed that closure, but it would come with consequences.

That part of you that had been left feeling fragile and wilted was because of Sam. You may not be healing or coming to terms the correct way but you were desperately trying to move on and you knew that opening up that old wound would only cause more harm than good.

“Please Peach.”

Damn it. Why? Why did he have to say the nickname he had given you, knowing exactly what it does to you. You felt that little impending flicker in your heart and you took in a deep breath. It couldn’t hurt…could it. 

With that final breath, you took a step forward, extending your hand out and unlocked the door. You slowly opened it and saw Sam leaning against the door frame. His eyes were cast down to the floor, but he quickly flicked them upward upon hearing the door open. 

Now with his face so close, you could see every detail. You observed him and watched while he let out a breath he had been holding and his shoulders dropped down. His eyes met yours, a genuine and heartfelt expression written upon it. The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly, almost undetected but you were able to catch it. 

“T-thank you,” Sam cleared his throat, “for opening the door.” He let out a little breathy laugh and brought his hand up to his face, his fingers brushing over the patch of hair on his upper lip. “I was kind of going crazy out here,” Sam mumbled, reaching out a hand and touching your shoulder. 

No. You shifted your body away, moving his hand off of you. You knew your boundaries and you weren’t going to let him step on them in any way. You cleared your throat and looked at him, putting on a brave face. “Please don’t touch me,” you said, your voice strong and unwavering as you spoke. 

“Sorry,” Sam said, quickly ripping his hand away. “Habit,” he mumbled. 

You rolled your eyes a bit and let out a huff. “Yeah, well you should maybe drop it then,” you spat, crossing your arms in front of you, suddenly feeling your blood start to boil. The anger pent up quickly was making itself known and while you tried to tell yourself that you would be able to talk to him calmly, you knew it was a lie. 

“W-why?” Sam asked frowning, tilting his head to the side while trying to read you. 

“Because I’m not yours anymore Sam,” you said with a scoff, leaning yourself against the opposite side of the doorframe, staring him down. Sam’s expression dropped and you watched him frown again, his face contorting into what you could only read as confusion. 

Sam then looked up and met your eyes again. “Oh…so-so you’re seeing someone then?”

You stood there, astounded by his words. You clenched your jaw, raising your eyebrows, trying to wrap your head around his question. You looked away, a small laugh of annoyance coming from you. “Okay first of all, you have no place to ask me that question or just assume that and second, even if I was…it’s none of your business,” you spat back. 

Sam looked at you, crossing his own arms over his chest and smirked. “Oh, so you’re not then?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows. 

A frustrated groan left you and you pushed off the door, taking a step forward towards him, feeling the anger starting to unravel. “Talking to you is fucking pointless and like I said it’s none of your business.”

Sam’s whole demeanor changed, and you watched his eyes bore into you. The soft-spoken side of him was now completely gone and instead his presence felt dark and heavy. Sam pushed his tongue to the side of his cheek, looked down and took a step forward, almost like a silent challenge. The image of him four months ago flashed into your mind. The same cold stare. 

His body now stood closely to yours and you sucked in a breath to only find it catch in your chest. “You know, I really don’t know why you’re so fucking cold to me. Don’t know why you suddenly act like this after and act like my love never meant anything to you.”

That piece of string that was holding you together at the edges suddenly snapped, making you fully unleash your wrath upon him. “Are you actually fucking kidding! You’re seriously standing here wondering why I act so fucking cold to you after you left to go fuck your ex?” You spat at him, moving your face dangerously close to him. 

Sam scoffs and rolled his eyes. “I was only over there for a bit,” he says in a tone that is too nonchalant and makes you clench your fists at your side. “And for the record, it was because I was fucking desperate ok. I do feel like shit about it,” Sam mumbled. 

You sneer back at him. “Excuses don’t fucking matter Sam. You cheated. Point blank.”

“I know!” Sam says in a raised voice, lifting his hands up and then running them through his hair whilst tugging on the roots. “Look I know I fucked up okay! It’s just- fuck, it was when we were going through a rough patch and I…I don’t know. I just needed something.”

“So you decided that something was going to your ex’s while your girlfriend sat at home and you could’ve easily talked and communicated what was going on?” You asked in utter disbelief. 

“God, Y/N! I know okay! I know! I regret it every fucking day. God…I- you know I still fucking love you,” Sam says, lifting his eyes to meet yours. The same look of desperation written on his face while his eyes danced around your face, trying to gather a response from you. 

A frown instantly formed on your face. “Fuck you Sam,” you said, moving to walk past him but he steps to the side blocking your path. You scoff and look down at the floor. 

“Please, just please…I wanna work through this.”

Now you’re the one to push your tongue to your cheek while slowly raising your eyes back up to meet his. Your stare became ice cold, and you hold his steady. “Well for the record, I hope it was good and everything you dreamed of,” you say coldly. 

Sam steps away, his face dropping. “No actually it wasn’t. Nothing…nothing is as good as it was with you. She- she was nothing…meant nothing.”

Your face drops a bit, but you quickly pull yourself back together and look straight at him. “If that’s the case and I’m really that ‘good’..., why did you never call or text? You do remember that I told you I wouldn’t mind continuing to hook up…” 

Sam pulls his mouth to the side and brings a hand up to scratch the back of his head. “If I’m being honest…I don’t know. I guess it just didn’t feel right. Felt guilt…still do. But I mean there were times I was tempted especially when I saw you at parties. I saw you that one night when we were all at Danny’s that one night and I swear I almost asked you but then decided not to. Found another girl to distract myself instead. I mean shit, that’s kind of the situation for every time I happened to see you out and about, whether it be at a party or not. Had to go and fill the void somehow but it just left me feeling guilty.”

You stood there in utter disbelief while Sam confessed and laid everything out for you. You didn’t know that’s how he had been feeling and a little part of you felt bad even though you knew you shouldn’t because it was his own reckless actions that led you both to where you are right now. 

Instead, you pulled yourself back together and glanced at him. “So…you’ve been hooking up with other people then?” you ask, crossing your arms over yourself. You don’t really know what willed you to ask the question, but you would be lying if you weren’t a bit curious. But something else lingered…jealousy maybe?

Of course you knew there was that chance that he would go and now be able to see other people all he wanted but part of you felt a bit upset about the fact. You thought back to those nights when the two of you first started seeing each other and the way you both were frantic while you ripped the clothes off each other before you could even make it into the house. 

Those weren’t the only memories. You missed the softness and sweetness of him too where soft touches lingered and just the smallest brush of his finger would leave you melting into him. It was the way the two of you were able to communicate how much you meant to each other without having to pull and find the words. The passion that was once shared between the two of you now was torn down rubble left behind.

Sam stands before you letting out a sigh as he slowly nods. “Yeah…I have been sleeping around a bit,” he confesses, letting out a nervous chuckle. You stand before him nodding, not knowing how to answer. 

“Not going to lie, it doesn’t help…feels like fucking shit and it’s meaningless. I think that’s why I don’t get much out of it. There’s nothing there. I don’t think I want to continue having sex with no connection. If I’m being totally honest…I just want you,” Sam confesses, locking eyes with you. 

You could feel the cracks slipping beneath you, but you desperately tried to keep them hidden. You cleared your throat and looked back at him with an unwavering stare. “No thanks, don’t think I want a man who’s been sticking their dick in other women.”

Sam’s eyes grow wide as he stares back at you. He quickly shakes his head and frowns. “I don’t Peach…don’t want to continue doing that. I don’t want to be with other women. I just want to be with y-”

“But you enjoy it right? Like fucking them?” you ask, quickly cutting him off. 

Sam shifts a bit and shrugs. “I mean…sometimes. Look I don’t really wanna-”

“How many? How many girls have you been with since we’ve broken up?” you asked, clenching your jaw. You seriously don’t know what’s leading you to ask so many bold questions, but you find yourself unable to hold back. In truth, you aren’t really sure you want to know but find the question slipping for your lips anyways. 

Sam goes silent, his face falling while contemplating on if he should really tell you. You see him hesitate but finally he speaks up in a voice that is barely audible. “Ten or so…maybe more,” he mumbles, staring down at the floor. 

A shocked look comes across your face and your eyes frantically dance around his face, while trying to rearrange the frantic thoughts that swirl in your head. “S-Sam…what the fuck.”

Sam’s expression drops and you see him look away, running his hand over the back of his neck. “Like I said, I know it’s not good. It all was meaningless…just needed something to drown in while I worked through shit I guess- look. I don’t want to be that fucking guy, just pl-”

“Did you use protection?”

Sam’s eyes meet yours again, his own look of shock on his face as a deep crease forming before his tightly knitted brows. His mouth hangs open and he shakes his head from side to side in utter disbelief. His hands hang at his side and you watch as he bunches them into tight fists before bringing them up. “Yes! Of course, I did…w-why would you ask me something like that?”

You stare back at him, holding his stare. You didn’t bother to hide the relief that not only showed on your face but also on your body. Your shoulders dropped a bit and the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding was slowly let out of your body. Then before you let your whole body relax, your stare turned cold and you spat the word, “Was it worth it?”

Sam’s eyes meet yours and you see that same flash of guilt come over his face, but it is quickly whisked away seeing his jaw clench and hands ball into fists at his side. “No,” he said, in a tone that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “It wasn’t.”

There’s a dull ache in your own jaw as you clamp down on your teeth, nearly crumbling under the weight. You narrow your eyes at him. “You sure?” you say and then for whatever reason, find your feet having a mind of their own as they take a tiny step forward. 

“You sure you don’t like it? Taking home any girl, you want?” you ask, tilting your head to the side and letting your eyes briefly drift to his lips. Sam sucks in a visible breath, following your own eyes. Sam closes his eyes for a split second and then looks away. 

“Don’t.” The tone in which he spoke should’ve made you freeze but instead, you took the words on as a challenge. 

A smirk comes onto your face, and you take another step forward, your body only inches away from his. With his face turned to the side, you found your eyes looking at the exposed part of his neck, his pulse beating wildly under his skin while he tried to put on a stern front. 

“Oh, come on Sammy,” you whisper, leaning yourself into him and letting your breath hit his neck, hoping your own little nickname would do the trick. Your eyes look down, seeing his chest still while he holds his breath. “Don’t lie…I know it was fun.” 

You lean yourself further forward, letting the tip of your nose come into contact with the skin on his neck. You hear the audible shutter of his breath and feel one of his hands, grab onto your hip. “Peach,” he grows, the grip on your hip tightening. 

A smile comes across your face, and you let your lips brush against his neck. “Anything to get your dick wet right?” And then you place a gentle kiss on his neck. A small moan escapes Sam and that was the sign you needed to continue your taunting and teasing. 

“Did you fuck them hard?” you asked, sucking at the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. Sam let out a small groan, his hand staying on your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh with such force that you were sure there would be marks later. 

“Some…” he whispered, letting his head fall back onto the door frame. You raised one of your hands, letting it rest against his chest and then gripped the fabric of his shirt and tugged him into the bathroom, quickly locking it behind you as you pressed him against the door. 

His eyes poured into your, half lidded with that sultry look you had come to know so well. You smirked up at him as he looked down at you over the bridge of his nose. You moved his hair to the side, continued to pepper his neck with kisses but this time, pressed your body against his. 

Sam groaned at the feeling and returned the action by gripping your hip and pulling you close against him. Now with the two of you pressed up against each other, there was no hiding the affect you were having on him as you felt his hardness press against your lower stomach. 

You halted your kisses and raised your head just slightly as you swiped the tip of your nose against his jaw. You placed a soft kiss against it and then moved your mouth to hover over his ear. “Did you imagine they were me?”

Sam’s body stiffened beneath you and he turned his head to look at you. You saw a dangerous flare in his eyes and you knew you had crossed a line. Before you could say anything to dull the tension, Sam lifted up a hand and held it against your throat. You let out a small gasp and with his thumb, he tilted your face so it was staring directly at him. 

“I only imagined they were you when I fucked them so hard that they couldn’t even walk, let alone talk after it was over.” Sam hissed through his teeth, his cold eyes staring back at you so intently that you shivered. Your thighs clamped together, feeling your arousal take over you. You thought maybe he didn’t see but you saw his eyes flick down to your legs for a brief second.

You went to look away from him but his hand that was wrapped around your throat, made you unable to and you were forced to stare back. You swallowed thickly and went to open your mouth to say something, but you were cut off as Sam smirked and leaned forward, hovering his mouth over your ear. “Is that what you want Peach? Want me to fuck you so hard that you can’t even speak?”

The only response you gave him was a small whimper as you nodded your head. Sam pulled away and smirked at you, releasing his grip around your neck and swiping his thumb over your cheek. “Yeah? Is that what you want?” Sam asked, lowering his head to catch your eyes that you had ripped away from him, the tops of your cheeks flared with heat, feeling a little embarrassed at how you were able to give in so easily to him. 

“Good.” Was all Sam said before his mouth found yours. The intensity of the kiss was something you couldn’t even begin to describe. Your mouths danced over each other while the two of you pawed and grabbed at each other, trying to find ways to get your bodies even closer to one another. 

Once Sam’s tongue entered your mouth, you couldn’t help but let your body collapse into him. The taste of him again on your lips was enough to drive you mad and you found that even though your distaste for him was rooted deeply, you couldn’t deny wanting him just one more time. 

The faint taste of the alcohol still lingered on his tongue. The musky scent of him combined with the way he tasted was enough to drive you completely mad. You pressed your body up against him, rutting your hips into him which made the two of you moan into each other's mouths in response. 

Sam gripped your hip tightly and then he quickly spun you, pressing your back now to the door. He removed both of his hands from your body and pressed the flats of his palms against the door, trapping your head between him. His chest rose and fell quickly, and his lips were a bright shade of red, raw from your kissing. 

The same cold eyes poured into you and you watched the muscles in his jaws strain. “You wanna fuck? …Lets fuck,” Sam said and then pressed his mouth against yours, this time with far more force. The only thing you could do was grab the fabric of his shirt and hang onto him while he devoured you. 

While the two of you let your mouths and hands roam over each other's bodies, you realized this wasn’t just any normal hook up. This was a dance. A dance of dominance but also an understanding. The two of you had found a way to communicate all the thoughts and feelings that swirled between you without actually finding a way to voice it. You knew it might not be the right way, but it was the only way you found it fit between the both of you. 

The hand that was left clinging to Sam's shirt then moved, starting on the single button that held his shirt together. Your fingers quickly worked on it, popping it open and revealing the smooth skin of his abdomen. You let your fingers rake down his skin, your nails just barely scratching against him making Sam let out a hiss through his teeth. 

Sam removed one of his hands away from the door and moved it back to your hip but this time, he balled up the end of your dress and let his hand rest against your bare skin. He continued to kiss you deeply, swiping his thumb over the band of your thong. You said a silent thank you to yourself for deciding to opt on a black thong tonight. 

Sam slowly removed his mouth away from yours and let his lips brush against the side of your cheek as he attached his mouth to your neck. You sucked in a gasp, bringing your hand up to his head and tangling your fingers through his longer locks. You let out a small his when you felt his teeth graze over the sensitive skin in your neck which made him rumble out a small chuckle against it. “Always so sensitive for me, Peach.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed back, sucking in a gasp as you felt his lip suck the skin of your neck into his mouth, making you arch your back into him. 

“Oh trust me, you’re going to,” Sam growled before he took your leg in his hand and lifted it to wrap around his middle. Sam pressed his hip into you, his erection brushing up against the bundle of nerves that were now aching to be touched. A small moan escaped you and you wiggled beneath him, trying to chase the feeling of him against you. 

Sam sucked in a hiss and brought his other hand to your hip and pushed them back against the door. “Quit doing that,” Sam spat, resting his forehead against your shoulder while he struggled to maintain his composure. 

You smirked and despite the force his hand had against your hips, you managed to wriggle yourself just enough to brush your core over him again. Sam lifted his head and glared at you bringing one of his hands to wrap against your neck again and press your head back against the door. “Is that a challenge?”

You bit your lip, trying to hide the smirk that was spreading across your face and nodded. “Fine,” Sam said, removing his other hand from your hip and letting his hand snake down between the two of you and ran a finger against your clothed clit. You cried out, clamping your eyes shut while biting your bottom lip so hard you almost punctured the skin. 

Sam started to slowly draw circles against it, making your body flare with heat that stretched from the top of your head and out through the tips of your limbs. “Yeah? You like my fingers on you?” 

All you could do was nod, your jaw now hanging freely as you stirred and moaned beneath him. Sam smirked and brought his face against your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. He pulled his hand away and you were about to let out a groan of complaint when you felt his hand dip under the elastic band of your thong and start to work over you now with nothing in between you. 

The slow circles he drew against you were daunting. He knew every inch of your body and even if you tried your best to hide you were reaching your climax, he would know. That’s how you knew he was just trying to tease you and rile you up. His fingers would press against the spot that could easily make you melt into his hand and would circle it, feeling your breath catch and just as you felt your approach start to creep up on you, he would pull his fingers back, just letting them barely dance across you. It was all part of the game…trying to see who would be the first to melt into each other first.

“Always so fucking wet for me,” Sam mumbled against you. His fingers started to pick up against you and you sucked in a sharp breath, feeling that wave start to crash over but he pulled his hand away. You clenched your jaw and let out a whine, gripping his hair by the root and tugging. 

“Knock it off,” Sam scolded and then knocked your breath away, delivering a small smack to your clit. Sam smirked at your response and then practically drained all the life out of you when he dipped one of his fingers into you but before it was pushed fully inside of you, he pulled it back. 

Sam pulled himself away from you just a bit and you watched his hand come to face and then suck the digit coated in your arousal into his mouth. His eyes fluttered and he let out a deep groan. “Always taste so sweet for me, Peach.”

Your whole body practically melted and your hand reached out for him, snaking down to rest against his erection that strained against his jeans. Sam sucked in a sharp hiss looking down and brought his hand down to rest on top of yours, pressing your hand harder against him as he rutted his hips into your palm. 

His eyes flicked back to yours and in a cold but stern voice commanded you. “Turn around.” You stood before him, feeling yourself starting to unravel at the seams. Sam had always been dominant and demanding with you, but this felt new. The deep gravel of his voice and his unwavering stare made your arousal pool and left your body shaking with anticipation. 

You did as he said, turning yourself around so you now faced the door. You felt Sam step behind you, his musky cologne wrapping around you and made your head swim. Sam grabbed both of your hands that were now dropped at your sides and lifted then, pressing them flat against the door. “Keep your hands right fucking there. Don’t you dare move them.”

You swallowed thickly and sucked in a breath. “Yes sir.”

Sam let out a growl and grabbed your hips and pushed himself against you. He pressed the tip of his nose into your hair and mumbled against this. “You want this Y/N?” he asked in a soft voice that almost made you crumble. 

“Please,” you whimpered. 

That was all Sam needed before you heard the sound of him undoing his belt, followed by the sound of his zipper sliding down. Sam reached down, lifting the bottom of your dress up and letting it bunch up just above your hips. He reached a finger into the elastic band of your thong and yanked it down and then swiped a finger through your wet core. 

A cry of pleasure left your lips but only lasted for a second as he withdrew his finger away. You felt one of his hands grab the back of your neck, pushing you forward. You turned your head to the side, letting your cheek come flush with the door and your eyes then grew wide at the sight before you. 

The mirror to the side was just in line of your view and you watched Sam pull down his pants, letting his cock spring free. Sam must’ve somehow sensed you watching him in the mirror because his eyes came up to stare back at you in it. A small smirk appeared on his lips, and you watched him look down and grip himself in his hand, slowly stroking over himself. In the reflection of the mirror, you were able to see the muscles in his stomach twitch as he let his hand lazily stroke over him. His brows bunched together, and his mouth fell open letting out a soft groan. 

Sam’s eyes then met yours again and you watched as he brought his hand to his mouth and spit it in. He rubbed his hand over the head of his cock, the muscles in his jaw clenching at the feeling. He then gripped his cock in his hand and swiped his tip through your dripping core. 

Your back arched at the feeling and you felt Sam’s hand tighten on your hip. Sam gave a couple more teasing swipes against you before lining himself up. The wind was instantly knocked from your chest as Sam pushed himself in with one hard thrust, filling you up to the hilt and delivering the familiar sting as you stretched around him. 

A low groan escaped you and you clamped your eyes closed while one of your hands that was pressed against the door bawled into a tight fist. You hear Sam let out a groan, stilling inside of you while you both got used to the feeling of being with each other again. 

The feeling of him was truly like no other. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the way he fucked you, knowing your body like the back his hand. You gladly accepted the familiar sting that he made you feel as your walls stretched and wrapped around him. “Fuck Sam,” you moaned. 

Sam withdrew himself almost all the way before he plunged back into you, delivering another hard thrust into you. The tip of him brushed against the hidden spot within you that could make you become undone before him. Sam’s hand gripped into your hair, holding you flush against the door as he started to build a slow but powerful rhythm, thrusting into you deeply and letting the tip of his cock brush against your cervix. 

The sound of Sam groaning behind you as he drove into you made your walls start to flutter around him. Sam let out a hiss at the feeling and you watched in the mirror as he fucked into you. His attention was cast downward, watching his cock coated in his arousal as he fucked into you. 

Sam’s rhythm started to pick up and all you could do was lean against the door for support, feeling your body start to grow limp from the amount of pleasure that swirled inside of you. Sam delivered a powerful thrust that made you claw your nails against the door. Sam picked his head up, removed his hand from the back of your neck and then wrapped his hand against yours, holding it to the door. 

“You like that, Peach? Like when I fuck you hard like that?” Sam asked, pulling himself almost all the way out and plunging back inside of you, gripping tightly against your hip. With all the strength you could muster, you lazily nodded your head. 

“Already got you speechless Peach. I just started baby,” Sam mumbled into your hair. Sam then started to fuck into you so hard that you were left seeing stars. This tip of his cock was brushing against your cervix so hard that you could feel the muscles inside of you start to ache. 

With the force Sam was driving into you, you now were quickly approaching your release. You felt yourself start to squeeze around him and your legs started to buckle but you willed yourself to stand up straight. A high-pitched moan escaped you and you felt Sam nudge the side of your neck with the tip of his nose. “I know baby, I know you’re close. Can feel that pretty pussy squeezing me.”

Sam removed his hand from your hip and snaked it around you, letting his fingers dip between your legs. The tip of his finger started to circle around your clit, this time with purpose as he drove you over the edge. 

Your whole body shook and a low deep groan escaped you as your release overtook you. Stars danced behind your lids as you felt your body drift to that far off place of nothing but pure bliss. From behind you, you heard Sam let out a deep shaky groan and felt himself spill into you, folding himself over and pressing his head to the top of your shoulder. 

The two of you were left a panting mess as you tried to collect yourself. You then mustered up the lingering strength you had and slid your hand from beneath his and went to push yourself off the wall but were stopped as Sam grabbed you by the back of head and pressed you back against the door. “Uh-uh, I’m not done with you just yet. Turn around. Face me.”

Sam slid out of you, making you let out a whimper at the sudden emptiness. You could feel the dull ache between your legs that you knew would leave you sore in the morning. 

You turned around to face him, seeing the end of his long hair plastered against the damn skin of his neck and face. His chest was still heaving as he fought to regain his composure. 

His deep amber eyes looked back into yours and you felt yourself suck in a breath. He then moved himself towards you, his eyes looking down to your lips before he placed a gentle kiss on them. All the words he had wanted to say were now left on your lips. 

Sam’s hand then moved to your hips and in one swift motion he picked you up, pinning you against the door. You instantly wrapped your legs around him, your hands coming to the back of his neck as you wove your fingers through his hair, tugging him closer. 

“Wanna fuck my cum into you,” Sam mumbled against your lips, sliding one of his hands behind your back while his other hand snuck between the two of you, gripping his cock in his hand. This time as he pressed himself into you, your walls gladly invited him back, slick with both of your arousals that dripped out of you. 

Sam slowly pressed into you, making him moan against your lips which you swallowed. With this different angle, you were able to feel him even deeper than before. You gripped your hands into him, expecting him to deliver the same harsh thrust but were relieved when he started to slowly thrust into you. 

Sam knew you were sore and already at your limit and this time he wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to silently remind of the times before he fucked everything up. Wanted to remind you of all the passion that he would give you- the passion he still had and felt for you. Wanted to remind you just how sorry he truly was and remind you all the love he still had for you. This time there was no dance, no game, no fight for dominance. Just the silent understanding that this was the closure the two of you needed. 

He continued to softly fuck into you, rolling his hips upwards and brushing against your g-spot. His free hand came to hold the side of your face as he gently slid his tongue into your mouth. You gladly accepted it letting out a small moan as the two of you ran your tongues over each other. The two of you were panting and sweat coated both of you. You were sure your hair was a wild mess but you didn’t care. This was all you wanted. 

Sam pulled away and looked at you, this time his expression soft and knowing. His eyes cast down as he watched himself slide into you, his cum dripping out of you and onto his cock. He returned his stare up to you and you watched a wave of uncertainty paint across his face. You removed one of your hands from the back of his neck and brought it up to his face, swiping your thumb over his cheek. He turned his head to the side and placed a gentle kiss into your palm. He looked back at you and held your eyes. “Baby, I- I’m sor-”

“I know,” you said, swiping that same finger across his cheek again. You then leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Sam groaned against you and you felt his breath start to shudder, signaling you that he was close to his second release. Your walls squeezed around him and he stilled his movements all together. “Don’t…I want you to come. Wouldn’t be fair,” Sam spoke softly, shaking his head and unable to now place his eyes on yours. 

You were now the one to grip his face and tilt it up to you. You could have sworn his eyes looked glossy as his eyes met yours but as you went to inspect further, it was gone. “Just want to make you feel good,” he said, removing his hand from your face and letting it come between the two of you. He started to slowly circle your clit with his finger and then started to slowly thrust into you again. You bit your lip letting out a cry of pleasure.

You went to look down to watch his hand and cock work on you but were stopped feeling Sam’s nose brush against your jaw. “Look at me,” he whispered in a voice that was so soft, it made you crumble. You shifted your eyes back to his and all the memories you had of him swirled in your mind. All the good times the two of you had shared, all the passion that once was shared, all the love that had once lingered- still there but this time was a flickering flame compared to the roaring fire that it once was. 

The two of you held each other’s gaze, this time biting your lip for a completely other reason as you felt it start to tremble. Sam frowned and he shook his head. “Don’t cry baby, it’s ok. Just focus on the way my hand feels, okay?”

You nodded your head and sucked in a deep breath trying to clear your thoughts and focus on the feeling he sparked between your legs. He was taking his time with you, trying to coax a second climax from you slowly knowing there was no need to rush this time. 

Sam’s fingers picked up just a bit while still continuing his steady slow pace and it was just enough as you felt your legs start to shake around him. Your brows knitted together, and your jaw hung loosely as you sucked in a sharp breath. 

“There you go baby, give it to me,” Sam said, moving his head to yours and pressing his mouth against yours. You moaned into your mouth and felt your whole body shake as you let yourself go against him. This time, it wasn’t just stars that danced behind your lids but instead, a whole galaxy that swirled before you. Everything moved slowly together, the colors being clearer as they swirled and weaved within one another.

Sam’s second release followed you as he let out a groan and pressed his forehead against yours. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close for what the two of you knew and recognized as the last time. You let a small tear slip out of your eye as you held him, letting all the emotions, good and bad spill out of you. You let yourself acknowledge them and then let them go. They were no longer yours to hold onto you. 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed wrapped in each other's arms but it was the place the two of you found comfort. Sam then pulled his head away and looked at you, lifting his hand and wiping away the lone tear that ran down your cheek. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and withdrew himself from you, slowly setting you back down. 

Your legs were a bit wobbly, but you were able to stand. You reached down and pulled your panties back up and smoothed down your dress while Sam started to re-buckle his pants. Sam cleared his throat and ran his hand through his long locks. You moved away from the door and did the same, smoothing your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable. 

Sam then walked to the door, unlocked it and turned around to face you. “Bye Peach,” was all he said as he pressed a kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“Bye Sammy,” you said. You watched him open the door and walk down the glowing hallway back to the bar and that was the last sight you had of him…

Tag list:

@iliana-gvf @thunderstomp-and-tequila @bathingin-thelight @darianh07 @gretas-sweat @withlovegvf @dannyshair-blog-blog @gretasfallingsky @ohfodthefeeling-gvf @stardustcatcher @mysticalstarcatcher

[losfacedevil]

Darkness of The Night // SFK

a/n~ This one is something that has been eating my brain for the last few weeks. I know very little about Vampires so please, be gentle. I’ve pulled a lot of inspiration from I See Hell In Your Eyes by @joshsindigostreak (run and read it if you haven’t!) Also the biggest shout outs to @vanfleeter @readyforthegarden & @joshsindigostreak for fully supporting and encouraging this idea, I may not have written it had they not! (WC 3.3k)

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, biting and such.

Without further ado…

There was a certain comfort that was found in the freedom and solitude of hitting the road with no real destination in mind. A night away from home after a stressful, and trying week calling your name as you packed an overnight bag and slipped into your car. Jamming the key into the ignition, you started the car and backed out if your driveway, a soft sigh escaping you as you began the short journey to the highway. 

With the windows down as far as they could go you zoomed down the highway, just barely abiding by the speed limit. Feel good music of your teenage years blasted through the car radio speakers, just loud enough to be audible through the wind whipping around the car but not loud enough to earn you a citation from an angry state trooper. The farther you traveled the lower the music was set as the wind slowly dissipated around you and the calm of the night time sky shrouded the road in darkness. 

You glanced at the clock on the dashboard, noting that it was close to dinner time, and as if on cue, your stomach rumbled loudly. A soft chuckle slipped past your lips and you reached down, rubbing your hand gently against your stomach as your eyes scanned the road signs, looking for one that advertised any sort of food that was nearby. It didn’t take long for you to find an exit that lead you directly to a small little mom and pop shop just down the road from where you exited the highway and you pulled in to the parking lot, cutting the engine off as you stared into the dimly lit building.  

Wired - a little hole in the wall mom and pop shop you had never heard of and the perfect indication that you had traveled a lot farther than you had meant to travel. Pulling a deep breath in through your nose, you secured your bag on your shoulder and slid out of the car, eyeing the building with just a little more suspicion. A flashing neon ‘Open’ sign being the only indication that the diner was open. 

A little set of jingle bells placed above the door began to sound as you pushed the door open, alerting the waitress to your presence. She popped her head around the door frame from kitchen and a soft smile spread across her lips as she wiped her hands on the dish towel slung over her shoulder. She sauntered her way out from the back and rested her arm against the countertop, leaning forward slightly as you stood just inside the door looking around at the quaint little dining area. 

“Hey, Sugar. What’s got you down around these parts?” She asked, slapping her order pad and pen down against the counter top. A sheepish smile spread across your face as you made your way to the counter and perched yourself against the edge of the chair. 

“I just needed to get away for the night so I packed a bag and hit the open road. Any hotels around here you could recommend?” You asked and pulled the laminated menu across the counter so you could get a better look at it. The waitress never took her eyes off of you as she watched you scan the menu curiously before deciding on the easiest thing they could make. 

“There’s one just a few blocks up a friend of mine owns, he’ll help you out, no problem. Now, what can I get you to eat?” She cooed and quickly jotted down your order for a burger and fries with a coffee to wash it all down with. A soft smile spread across her face and she produced a water bottle from what you could only imagine was a mini fridge under the counter. 

“You hang tight, I’ll have that food ready for you in a jiffy!” The soft tone of her voice reminded you that you were safe in the diner - even if you felt like the area was a little bit off for your liking. 

You let your mind and eyes wander, taking in every ‘first dollar’ from their original opening and subsequent re-openings over the years. A peculiar painting of what looked like a family from a fantasy world occupied the spot right next to the door to the back. A tall man with long, dark hair, a long dark goatee, and oddly pointed looking ears sat next to a blonde haired blue eyed woman who was holding a baby that looked to be her carbon copy. 

That was when you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. Taking a deep breath, you shifted your gaze to the opening in the wall and that was when you spotted him. A boy who looked no more than twenty one peered at you around the far back corner, in constant motion as he washed dish after dish, leaning over only slightly to place them in what you assumed to be a drying rack. His gaze was piercing, the dark color of his irises only amplified by the dim lighting in his work space. He worked blindly, his gaze not leaving yours until you broke the awkward eye contact and averted your gaze to the very outdated menu board to your left. 

You were shaken out of your thoughts as the bubbly waitress made her way out of the back and placed a plate with a burger the size of your face and a heaping helping of fries to match down on the counter in front of you. Your mouth watered as the smell of the food hit your nostrils and you shot the waitress a beaming smile as you began to pluck fries off of your place and popped them eagerly into your mouth. 

“If you need anything else you let me know okay, Sugar? I’m gonna go help Sammy back there wash the rest of the dishes from the dinner rush. Just give me a holler.” She smiled brightly and placed a hand against yours, squeezing it gently before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the back. 

There was something calming in the quiet of the diner, the only sounds drifting through the air being that of the clinking dinnerware being washed somewhere behind the wall. You pulled out your phone and headphones, needing just a little enrichment in the quiet space of the diner. Placing an ear bud gently in your ear you scrolled to your favorite chill playlist and let the soft music engulf your mind and senses as you enjoyed the food set in front of you. 

It didn’t take long for you to finish your dinner, having not eaten anything in the last couple of hours, and you sighed contentedly as you sipped on your remaining coffee. You let your eyes begin to wander again, this time landing on a portion of the wall that was covered with newspaper clippings and articles all about Wired and its rich family history. ‘Family owned for 90 years!’ Read one of the article titles. Squinting your eyes you tried to make out some of the print below the title, quite curious about the diner you sat in. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention and you turned your head back to the proper position. There in front of you stood a tall, lanky male; one you recognized as the boy that was holding a starting contest with you earlier in the evening. There was something about the dark amber color of his eyes that had you entranced and a soft smile spread across your face by way of a greeting. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as you took in his appearance. The youthful glow of his skin was something you could only wish to be in possession of. The warm color of his cheeks having your stomach feeling weird and it was then that you noticed his hair. Worn in a loose bun at the nape of his neck, you couldn’t help but wonder just how long his hair truly was. 

“Mind if I?” He mumbled and motioned to the now empty plate that sat in front of you. You shook your head gently and nodded at the plate, signaling you were fully finished using it. 

“Absolutely, have at it.” You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips. There was just something enchanting about the man that stood in front of you. His gaze never left yours as he scooped up the plate and grimaced slightly, his thumb having slipped into the now warm ketchup that was smeared across the lip of the plate. 

“Ketchup is far too reminiscent of blood for my liking.” He mumbled and swiftly turned on his heel, making his way back into the kitchen where the clattering of the plate in the sink could be heard. A breath you weren’t aware you had been holding whooshed out of your chest and you slumped forward slightly, suddenly light headed. The waitress - whose name you hadn’t caught - made her way back into the dining area and a worried look kissed her features. 

“Hey honey, are you feeling alright?” She asked, placing a cool hand against your now flushed forehead. You nodded your head and tried to straighten the way you were sitting. Reaching forward you grabbed for the now room temperature water bottle that sat next to your cup of coffee and downed half of it in one gulp. 

“Yeah I… I think maybe I just need rest. Where did you say the nearest hotel was?” You asked, trying to will away the woozy feeling you weren’t sure the cause of.  You could see the man you now knew as Sammy out of your peripheral vision, standing just slightly out of view in the doorway to the back of the building. 

He had scented you before he even saw you, noting the way something subtly sweet and floral clung to your skin. His mouth had began to water and gums itched as his fangs tried to break free of their confines and slip down into place. He knew better than to act on the instincts he was still trying to learn to rein in, having only been working in the same building as humans for a very short period of time. 

Sam’s mind reeled with the possibilities of getting you alone and convincing you that just a little taste would be okay. But he knew better, human blood was not there for the taking. He couldn’t stand the phantom hammering of his heart in his chest and spun on a heel, trying to distance himself even further from you when his coworker called his name. 

“Sammy, won’t you be a dear and walk our friend to her car? We wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, now would we?” She drawled and placed a reassuring hand on your arm, instilling in your head that you would be safe and unharmed in Sam’s care. His eyes fluttered shut and he swallowed hard, willing the flaring of his nostrils to cease as he turned back around and slowly made his way to the counter. 

“Yes, we wouldn’t want any… demons of the night to come out and snatch her, now would we, Marjorie?” The way he spoke was smooth, his voice keeping a steady tone even when he turned to you. You felt your eyes widen slightly and you swallowed hard as you willed yourself to believe the way his eyes shown red was a play of the dim lighting you were sitting in. 

Sam made his way around the small counter and cupped his hand gently around your elbow, helping you to stand and slowly began to lead you out of the diner. You weren’t sure why you felt the way you did or why you were fully on board with this man having a steadying hand against your elbow, but you allowed him to lead you out of the diner and into the darkness beyond. 

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing around these parts alone?” The last word slipped past his lips in a tone you weren’t quite sure how to decipher. You swallowed hard and shook your head gently, trying to rid it of the brain fog that was slowly creeping in. 

“I uh… needed a night away from my life so I…um. I packed a bag and just took off but I’m not entirely sure… where exactly I am.” Your ability to form sentences became sluggish and you squeezed your eyes shut as you wracked your brain for the words you were looking for. 

The hammering of your heart in your chest was starting to drive him crazy. His eyes fluttered shut and his grip on your elbow faltered, allowing you to free yourself from his grasp and you leaned up against the side of your car. Sam regretted the deep, calming breath he pulled in through his nose as your subtly sweet scent enveloped his senses and his gums began to ache. 

“And how did you find us? We’re not exactly your average fast food chain.” He mumbled and let his eyes meet yours willingly for the first time that night. You swallowed hard, hoping the darkness and the fluorescents of the street lights were the reason the amber coloring of his eyes seemed off. Pulling a deep breath in through your nose you couldn’t help but take notice of the way he smelled. The richness of what you could only guess what leather and a hint of bitter sweetness danced in your nostrils. 

“There was a sign advertising food at this exit. This place was the first place I found.” You gulped as his hand came to rest on the car next to your head and he leaned in slightly, closing some of the distance between the two of you. A soft smile spread across his lips as he reached up with his other hand and curled his index finger under your chin, tilting it ever so slightly. 

“And we were… enticing enough for you to stop, were we?” He questioned and swallowed hard, dipping his head lower and pulled a deep breath in through his nose. Your eyes fluttered shut as the sudden contact, focusing on how the cool skin of the tip of his nose felt against the warmth of your neck. 

Iris - your scent was sweet and subtly tainted of the scent of irises. Sam’s mouth began to water and his fangs slowly descended as your scent wrapped him in feelings he was unsure of how to handle. 

“This was the closest place… I didn’t want to fall asleep at the wheel… needed food.” Your thoughts were jumbled as Sam’s large hand engulfed the side of your neck, his fingers spread wide and he slowly danced them over your warmed skin. 

“Your skin is so soft…you wouldn’t mind if I stole a little taste of it… would you? The perfect payment for your meal.” He mumbled, nuzzling his face gently into the crook of your neck. You felt the scrape of something against your neck and your mind went blank, unsure of what exactly was happening. 

Sam knew he had you right where he wanted you and he slowly pierced your skin with his fangs. A groan slipped past his lips as your blood slowly trickled into his mouth, so warm and sweet, a taste he knew was forbidden but too good to pass up. His pulls were gentle at first, his intentions only meaning to pull a taste from you. But the more he savored the taste, trying to put his finger on what exactly you tasted of, the harder the pulls he began to take from you. It was then that a memory of yours bloomed in his mind - something he wasn’t familiar with.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat in the break room of your store, trying to process what had just happened. Being called out by a customer wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in your line of work but the hand she had raised and struck you with had taken you fully off guard. You had spun on your heal and ran to the back, wanting nothing more than to shrivel up and hide. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Your coworkers placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and help up an ice pack for you to take. You nodded gently and accepted her offering, holding it gently against your cheek. 

“What happened?” She asked, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she listened to you recount exactly what had happened. A deep sigh slipped past your lips and you shrugged your shoulders, pulling the ice pack away from your face briefly so your skin could warm. 

“I just want to go home. Maybe take off for the weekend, I don’t know.”

The memory faded away and Sam’s mind became painfully aware of just how slow your heart beat had gotten. He willed himself to pull back and ran his tongue along the puncture wound by way of healing it, as panic slowly began to set low in the pit of his stomach. Your body has since gone limp, legs no longer holding your own weight  as Sam pressed his chest firmly against yours. He knew he screwed up and only had a matter of minutes to make a decision to let you go or heal your now lifeless body. 

“Shit, shit, SHIT!” His words came out on a whispered scream, not wanting Marjorie to become aware of his antics. 

Sam sank to the ground and leaned his back against your car, slowly laying your lifeless body across his lap. He drew in a deep breath between his gritted teeth and lifted his bare wrist to his lips, piercing his fangs through the thin skin of his wrist. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the blood he had drawn from his own body pool against his skin. Panic began to cause a phantom hammering of his no longer beating heart in his chest and he brought his wrist to your slightly parted lips. He couldn’t help the way his eyes widened as you still lay unresponsive, the inner turmoil of you being his first kill something he couldn’t fully come to terms with. 

“C’mon, please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” His voice broke as his whispers fell on deaf ears. There was a feeling of finality washing over him as he made the decision that you were too far gone. A soft sigh escaped him as he flexed his wrist once more and a fresh stream of his blood trickled into your mouth. Sam let his head fall back against the car door, fighting the phantom feeling of tears prickling the backs of his eyes. 

It was then that he felt your muscles tense slightly, a positive reaction to the blood he had been feeding you. Your head fell to the side and your lips wrapped around his wrist, the tell tale feel of and instinctual pull causing all of the air to whoosh out of Sam’s chest as he realized you were going to pull through. 

Your body felt more alive in his lap, your muscles no longer laying lifeless against his thighs. Sam breathed a sigh of relief as your lips released his wrist and you head rolled in the opposite direction. Sam’s eyes snapped in the direction of the diner, knowing he had been outside for far too long and he focused his mind on Marjorie’s and slowly back tracked the timing in her head, accounting for more than half of the time he had been out of the diner. 

Pulling a deep breath in through his nose he shuffled the way he was sitting and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. Tilting his head to the sky he screwed his eyes shut and blindly maneuvered through his contact list. He pressed the phone to his ear and counted the rings on the other end, knowing Josh wouldn’t answer on the first. His chest ached as the line came alive and his eldest brother greeted him down the line. 

“Josh… I screwed up big time.”

Until next time….

TAGLIST: @vanfleeter @readyforthegarden @joshsindigostreak @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @dannythedog @stardustvanfleet @devilat-thedoor @the-wicked-gnome @runwayblues @gracev0609 @lipstickitty @sunfl0wer-power @allieisacrybaby

[abeautylives]

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 1

author’s note: I’m really excited to have something to share with you guys. It’s written from a diff POV than I usually do, but my main character girly pop has a lot of personality 😘 Big big big thank you to bff @samkiszkasfacialhair for all the help, the ideas, and the motivation 🤍

pairing: female!OCxkiszkas (just read it, you’ll figure it out)

time frame: 2010-2014

word count: 5.7k this part

warnings: language, illicit substance use, rampant teenage emotions and delulu, kissing, josh 🥺

I don’t actually remember the day I met Sam Kiszka.

Not the date, or even the day of the week. I do know what year it was, because it was the year my mom moved us to this quaint (read: weird) little town. Charming, but weird. And boring.

Boring, until I met Sam.

Eleven-year-old Sam was a menace, but twelve-year-old me was bored. So obviously, we became the best of friends. He taught me how to light a firecracker, I had an endless supply of Barbies to blow up. He showed me how to slip out of my bedroom window without making a sound, I told him how to impress girls without grossing them out. In our early teenage years, he introduced me to drugs and I taught him how to unclasp a bra. Chill out, it was weed, and I wasn’t even wearing the bra.

My mom just loved that I’d made such a great friend.

The first time I was allowed to play at his house I met his sister, who was closer to my age, but it was too late. Sam and I were already attached at the hip, though mine sat an inch or two higher than his for a couple of years, until a growth spurt and puberty eventually left him with the height advantage.

That was when he stopped calling me by my name, and started calling me Tiny. Like I said, a menace.

“You’re the coolest girl I know, even if you’re vertically challenged.”

Please note: the first time he said this to me, he had finally just surpassed me in height by half an inch.

Then of course, there were the twins. You’d think the eldest siblings would not have become a big part of my life, but they were just always around, and actually liked hanging out with their baby brother. Close knit family and all that. It’s weird, right? At the wise and worldly age of twelve, the two fourteen-year-olds terrified me. Josh and Jake were both scary in their own way to a pubescent girl on the cusp of teenager-dom. Jake was pretty quiet, but his ego was not. He was hot, okay? In like, a Justin Bieber-y way but also kind of a jock-y way, but a jock with a guitar. Whatever, I’m only human.

Josh was… well, Josh was Josh. Unlike anyone else I’d ever met, and not necessarily in a good way. He was loud, like, all the time. He never seemed to stop talking and ended most of his sentences at an eardrum-piercing decibel level. Fortunately, or not, he didn’t get hot until I was old enough to obsess over it.

I’m sure I didn’t speak a coherent word to either of them the entire first year of my friendship with Sam.

I have a million memories of the time I spent with Sam and his family, but I have no recollection of the day I fell in love with Josh Kiszka.

But once I did, it was a deep, obsessive kind of love that only a teenager can achieve. One day he was my best friend’s eccentric older brother and the next…

Well, the next he was a rockstar.

I mentioned the whole jock with a guitar thing that Jake had going on, and that really hadn’t changed, but somewhere along the way Josh had transformed from a loud, annoying theater kid to a genuine, full blown vocalist. I mean, for a while he was both.

When they first started playing together, I only gave a shit because they’d roped Sam into it too and it took up way too much of his time. I’d watch them play, and they weren’t… bad? They weren’t good either. My time could have been better spent watching R rated movies (scandalous) or, I don’t know, doing my homework. But nope! We were in a band now.

They practiced, a lot. It felt like all they did was practice, for at least a couple years. And I just watched dutifully, every weekend of every month of every year. They did get better.

But here’s the thing. I was there for all of it. I was there the day Jake ran into the living room and snatched Sam up by the back of his shirt. Come on Sammy boy, we need you on bass. I was there the day their buddy Kyle sat down at the drum kit and completed the ensemble. (I was also there the day he got replaced.) And of course, I was there the day Josh pushed his voice past the instruments and the amps, and went from a weak imitation of a rock singer to something else all together. Something totally and completely him.

That’s not the day I fell in love with him (I would’ve remembered), but it was the first time he had ever… impressed me. And not that I cared, but Jake was impressed too. I saw it on his face.

It was cute. In like, a sweet, brotherly way.

Okay, anyway! The combination of Jake’s skill and Josh’s raw talent got them noticed. (Sammy’s talent would develop over time, I didn’t forget about him. Sam, you’re the most talented one in the band.) And then they were playing actual gigs. I wasn’t allowed to go to most of those early ones, because for some reason these dive bars were permitting these pint sized, teenage Zeppelin wannabes to perform at them. Old people like our parents loved that shit. The locals went crazy for it.

They played Fischer Hall a couple times, right there in town, but around their third or fourth gig there, Josh had unbuttoned the flowy, floral, women’s blouse he was wearing and took to the stage with it hanging open, beaded necklaces draped down his bare chest and curly hair wild.

Why was he sort of… ripped? How had I never noticed? Were his pants always so tight? And low cut? I was sweating. I didn’t even know he was literally cosplaying Robert Plant.

Did I fall in love with him that night? Of course not, I already told you I don’t remember the day that happened.

The Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I left my house around 8:30 to head to Sam’s. To my mom, this was an average Saturday night - I spent nearly all of them at Sam’s house, where his parents were always home. Ya know, or so mine thought. Whether the Kiszkas were actually home or not, we hung out in the garage.

That’s not as weird as it sounds, it was a really cool garage. With furniture and everything. And their instruments, a lot of them. I don’t know how every one of these guys knew how to play every instrument packed into that room, but they did. And by the time I was sixteen, they were really almost good at it.

(Jake was good. Very good… I told you he was hot.)

This particular Saturday though, this was going to be the Saturday that changed my life. And I wanted to dress the part.

In hindsight, I wore something I’d probably worn a hundred times. Then why had it taken me so long to get ready? I changed my jeans twice, my shirt at least ten times, added a sweater, threw it back on my bed, added a flannel, tossed that to the floor. Picked it back up and shoved my arms in, made sure it hung off my shoulder just so. Shoulders are sexy, right? Do guys like shoulders? Oh shit, what do guys even like?

Anyway, I left the house looking exactly as I always did.

I rode my bike slowly that night, already hyper aware of the sweat under my arms.

So I slowed my pedaling even further. When the house came into view, I hopped off the bike and walked it up the drive before tossing it to the grass outside the garage.

Okay, knock twice and just go in.

That’s what everyone always did, what I always did. Just knock twice then lift the door. Everyone was always welcome, come on in!

So go in, idiot.

Look, I did it eventually. Just like always, knock knock, lift the door enough to slip underneath, let it close behind me. Except when it rolled back to the ground, I lost my nerve and stood frozen there for a few seconds too long.

Sam called me out, because he’s a menace.

“The hell are you doing, Tiny? We started without you.”

I moved farther into the space, eyes bouncing between my options through the soft haze of pungent smoke that already hung over the room. There was my usual spot - on the floor, next to the spot where Sam sat cross-legged, his long frame folded and bent, his sharp elbows resting on his knees as he waited for the joint to make its way back to him.

Not tonight, I’m on a mission.

Jake sat to his left, in a well-worn, floral print wingback chair. It was comfortable enough for one person, decades of weight softening the strength of the cushion’s springs before it ever came to live in this particular garage. Jake’s body was slung over it, legs thrown haphazardly over an arm while his own were wrapped around an acoustic guitar. Typical. He tipped his chin at me from under the brim of a bucket hat, then nodded towards the floor beside him. Holy shit, does he want me to sit by him?! I think my fingers lifted in a barely-there wave but I’m not really sure they were functioning correctly.

Okay focus, he did not. Does not. Not in this lifetime.

Still without his next hit, Sam glanced up at me over his shoulder and patted the threadbare throw rug next to him. “Sit down weirdo, you’re making me paranoid.”

Nerves that I’d never, never, felt before in this room fluttered through my stomach, I let my gaze meet Sam’s before continuing the search for a place to plant myself.

There was really only one option left - the couch - and both ends were already occupied. Our friend Danny (Kyle’s replacement, sorry Kyle) was in the process of melting into the corner closest to Jake, his eyes glassy and already tinged pink when he looked up at me. Only his eyebrows lifted in greeting before he mirrored Sam’s offer to sit next to him, tapping the cushion beside him.

This is fine, totally normal! Danny was Sam’s other half. Well, his other male half. I guess we were in thirds. A trio.

I accepted the offering, stepping around the coffee table, scarred with years worth of “art” - drawings and carvings, a few discreet dirty words etched into the surface in between - to drop to the middle of the couch. One of Sam’s brows tipped up when I met his eyes again, his expression asking, “Dude, what gives?”

“Hey, you’re here!” He noticed me, finally. Silvery smoke crept from between his lips as he grinned, and I watched transfixed when they pursed together and he blew a cloud toward the ceiling. My stare was broken when he leaned across the table and passed the joint to an impatient Sam, but to the delight of the butterflies going nuts in the pit of my stomach, he leaned back into the cushions and threw an arm over the back of the couch behind me. EEEEP!

“Hey-“ It was a humiliating and unsexy croak, and I quickly cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, Josh. Hi.”

His long hair was pulled back, his entire face available for my viewing pleasure. Things were going perfectly.

I joined the rotation, the weed easing the flutters caused by sitting so close to Josh, but amplifying the feeling that the other three were watching and wondering why I was acting so strange.

They were not. They were high.

Aside from the stray curious eyebrow from my BFF across the table, they actually acted like nothing was abnormal about my seating choice, even when I started to scooch imperceptibly to my left every time I adjusted the way I was sitting.

Pulled my legs up under me? Scooch.

Dropped them down so my sneakers met the cement? Scooch.

Crossed my left ankle over my right knee? Scooch.

It was totally subtle.

“I’m gonna grab a pop, you guys want anything?” Sam startled me out of a pleasant reverie as he jumped up from the floor, but my freaking knee was touching Josh’s knee! No I don’t want anything, I have everything I need right here!

It turned out Sam was a huge knee blocker. He gripped me by an elbow and peeled me from the couch as the others murmured at our retreating backs about needing Doritos. He pushed me out the side door and towards the house and had me in the kitchen before I could even tell him he was ruining everything!

Even through bleary, hooded eyes, his death glare was brutal.

“Saaammmmm, what are you doing?!” “What the hell do you think you’re doing, T?”

More glaring. He broke the glare-off first, jerking his head to the side to flick his hair out of his eyes and turning to open the refrigerator, but once his face was inside it, he called me out again.

“Why are you being so weird with Josh?”

I love him, I need him!

“Whaaa.. I don’t know what you mean. You’re just super high.” Yeah, I really thought that would work. Sue me!

Straightening to his full height (seriously, like two inches taller than me… maybe three), he spun to face me again. He actually looked down his nose at me.

“Do you like, like him? What the fuck, Tiny?” He whispered that last part, as if his parents were lurking around the corner waiting to bust him for cussing.

“Look, you wouldn’t understand Sam. I’m much older than y-“

“You’re not even an entire year older than me.”

“Eleven months is basically an entire ye-“

“That’s not the point!” That part was like whisper yelling. I swear it looked like he was yelling, but it sounded like he was whispering.

“Okay!” Yeah, I whisper yelled back. “Sammy, I like him… I’m sorry! I don’t even know when it happened but I woke up one day and I realized that he’s perfect! He’s funny and nice and he’s so… so… cute! Okay? He’s so cute I wanna die and I love him!”

Sam’s eyes were wide, as wide as they could be under the circumstances, and he stared at me like I’d grown another head. With a horn coming out of it.

“You love him. You realize how dumb you sound right now?”

Dumb? No no, this was serious. I pleaded with my best friend for forgiveness. And his help. “Sam… please. Don’t be mad at me, I- I don’t know, I can’t help it! That’s just how I feel, and I want him to like me back!” That’s when it hit me, I needed a wingman for this plan.

“Can you help me get him to like me back?” I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip stuck out and everything. As if that had ever worked in the four years we’d known each other so far.

“Fuck no.” His eyes moved side to side, looking for sneaky parents again I guessed. “Definitely not. Why do you have to like my brother, dude? That’s sick, it’s like incest or something!” He stomped his feet a little, and I couldn't help but think it made him look like a child. He was a child! This was serious, grown-up shit and I didn’t have time to play games.

“Ugh, if you’re not gonna help me then at least get out of my way.” I pushed past him and headed back out of the house and into the garage. Not much had changed when I got there, but Danny must have left while Sam and I were gone. The entire couch was empty aside from Josh, still sitting cross-legged in one corner. Damn it!

I flopped into the spot that Danny had vacated, just as Sam hustled back in through the side door, arms full of sodas and bags of chips. My cheeks were warm when I looked up at him, and then they burst into flames.

“Scoot over T, I like the corner spot.”

He’s helping me! Oh shit, he’s helping me. Move your ass!!

Fumbling for a grip on reality, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Sam’s. He lifted his brows and tilted his head in Josh’s direction. I suddenly remembered why I wasted all my days with this kid - he’s my ride or die. And now I owed him, big.

As soon as I stood to shift to the center of the couch, Sam’s elbow snuck out and made contact with my shoulder. My feet tangled with each other and, balance lost, I tumbled. Right into the arms of my beloved.

Okay okay, that’s a reach. But I did land on him. Sam had nudged me just hard enough to send me toward the opposite end of the couch and I landed ass-first on Josh’s leg, still folded and crossed under the other.

Through the mortification, I heard Sam’s distinct snickering as he placed himself gently on the other cushion. Then, through the popping of soda tabs and crinkling of chip bags, I heard the sweetest, most beautiful sound ever.

“If you wanted to sit next to me so bad, you could’ve just done it, T.”

I quite literally had to extract myself from his lap, but Josh just giggled as I clumsily moved off of him. To my extreme delight and disbelief, I didn’t make it too far. He slung an arm over my shoulders and kept me at his side. We are sharing a cushion. ALERT ALERT - OUR THIGHS ARE TOUCHING.

His hand wrapped around the ball of my shoulder and squeezed. Not once, but twice. I felt like I was gonna puke, but I risked turning my head and meeting his eyes. And he. Fucking. Smiled.

“You good, Tiny?” I should’ve laughed. We were the same exact height, I could be calling him tiny. But this wasn’t funny, because he was still smiling at me and he’d lowered his voice to speak directly to me and I felt it all the way to my toes. Somehow I managed to smile back.

“I’m good.” I was soooooo good. Even when Sam shoved a bag of Doritos at me, I was good. Because Josh reached into it and pulled a few out for himself. He reached into my lap! For chips!

Risking a sideways glance at Sam, I found him eyeballing Josh’s hand that was still resting lightly over my shoulder. I gave him my best “holy shit holy shit holy shit” expression, to which he rolled his eyes and shrugged. Before turning my attention back to the love of my life, my gaze drifted past Sam and landed on Jake. Oh, he was still here? Hadn’t noticed.

Except I was noticing. And he didn’t look pleased. He locked in and held eye contact, absolutely scowling. He was pissed. At me?! I must not have hidden my surprise well, because after a few more tense seconds of the longest eye contact we’d ever held, he blinked away and flung the guitar he’d been cradling all night over the arm of the chair.

Look, he didn’t throw it or anything. The stand was right there and the guitar landed safely, if not a little roughly, in its place. But then he tossed the open bag of Lay’s to the table, swung his legs around and stood. He caught my eye again, his hair doing that flippy thing over his eyebrows as he shook his head.

“Whatever. Night, guys.”

Just like that, he was gone. Two down, one to go. GTFO Sam!!

The next hour or so passed in a blur. Sam kept hitting the joint long after Josh and I had turned it down, and by the time he’d deposited the roach in the ashtray he could barely keep his eyes open. I watched his head fall back into the cushion and pounced on my opportunity.

Leaning away from Josh’s loving embrace (shut up, I was in heaven okay?), I slapped Sam’s chest with the back of my hand.

“Sammy… Sam!” He snorted as his head whipped up, swiped a hand over his mouth and looked at me. I was still leaning toward him, my back to Josh, and I spoke to him telepathically. Or with my eyebrows.

Get out of here right now or so help me God.

He answered verbally, like he couldn't even read my mind. “Huh?”

I withheld growling at him like an animal. “Why don’t you go to bed, man? You’re toast.” Go. NOW.

His eyes tried to focus on me, they really did, before he shook his head and tried again. “Shit. Yeah, okay. Are you… do you wanna stay on the couch tonight?”

Yes. This couch. Allll night long.

“Yeah yeah, I will, but I’m not tired yet. I’m just gonna, um, chill here for a little bit longer?” At that, I turned my head and risked a glance at Josh. Thank God I did, because he was already looking at me, and he grinned. EEEEEEEP!

“I’m not tired yet either, we can listen to some music.” I doubted I could hear music at that point, not over the blood rushing in my ears. But then, oh then, he looked up at Sam and said, “I’ll make sure she makes it to bed, I mean, the couch. Downstairs, I’ll make sure she makes it downstairs.”

“Fine, whatever.” See? He’s my ride or die. “See you in the morning, T.” And then he was gone.

We were alone.

HELLO? WE. WERE. ALONE.

Sure, I’d been alone with Josh before. I’d been hanging around his house nearly every day for four years, we’d definitely been left in a room together at some point. But not while his arm was draped loosely over my shoulders, not while our legs were touching, not while my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

But now that we were alone, I had no effing clue what to do. Then Josh stood up. My heart dropped into my stomach, but he walked over to the stacked milk crates that housed a small part of their family’s record collection and crouched to skim through them. He found something he liked and set it on the turntable, the needle bringing the crackling beginnings of a song to life.

When he turned back to face me, I thought for sure he’d sit in that ugly wingback chair. Or at the other end of the couch. Instead, he circled the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of me than he had been all night. And now his other thigh was touching mine!

I’m pretty sure my throat closed up because I had to clear it rather unattractively to speak. “What, uhh, ha, um, who is this?”

Sexy, right?

Didn’t matter, his smile took shape right in front of my eyes and all I could see was the little barely-there gap between his front teeth. I wanted to know what it felt like on my tongue. Would I be able to tell? If I kissed him right now, would I be able to feel that little discrepancy in the perfection of his teeth? I lifted my eyes to meet his and realized he’d spoken, and I’d missed it.

“Sorry, uhh… what?”

His head tilted and his eyes searched my face for… something. “Wilson Pickett. Sammy hasn’t played this for you?”

Sammy? Who is Sammy? Ohhh right, best friend.

“Um, no, I don’t think so. But maybe? There’s always music on, he’s probably played this.”

He just nodded, at first in response to my rambling and then in time with the song. When it ended, he just… looked at me, for what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds. I was once again hyper aware of my underarms. Sweating. So I slipped the flannel off of my shoulders, keeping my forearms in the sleeves but giving me some airflow to the pits. Josh’s eyes dropped from mine and landed on the now exposed skin. Yes! Guys like shoulders!

The realization slapped me in the face, so I grabbed it and ran. I slid my arms out of the sleeves and tossed the flannel past Josh and onto the chair, thanking God that I’d worn a tank top. He gulped. Like a full-blown gulp.

Omg I’m making him nervous!!

Confidence boosted, I shifted even closer to him, until our bodies were tucked tight against each other. I’d never been this close to him, aside from that one time we’d been crammed in the back seat of his mom’s car with Sam and Jake, their sister sitting pretty in the front seat. But then I had been a scrawny kid, only thirteen (and a half) and he had been a really weird fifteen year old, not yet having grown into his features. I hadn’t wanted any part of his stinky, sweaty, farty body near me and I’d squeezed myself so close to Sam I was practically in his lap.

But on this night? This Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I was no longer a kid. And he was no longer weird. He was beautiful, and my face was really close to his face. I could feel it when he whispered, his breath actually touched my lips.

“Wha- what are you doing, T?”

He was looking at my lips, waiting for my answer. I licked them because I was freaking parched, but he watched. And I watched him gulp, again! My tongue slipped out and wet my bottom lip a second time.

“Josh?” Whispering is sexy, it’s seductive. I was sure of it. He did it back, just my name - my actual name - lilting at the end in question.

“Do you.. wanna… kiss me?” I leaned over him, placed my left hand on his chest and felt his collar bone under my fingertips through his t-shirt. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I saw the panic widen his eyes, then they darted around me, looking at anything but me. It was really so cute how nervous he was. He was eighteen, for Christ sake! And I was making him nervous!

“Kiss me, Josh.” His eyes snapped back to mine, slipped down to my mouth again and then back.

And then. He. Freaking. KISSED. ME.

In a split second that felt like hours, I watched his eyes close and perfect lips pucker. My eyes stayed open at first, I didn’t want to miss this.

Leaning further into him, I settled my lips against his and slid the hand on his chest up the side of his neck (his pulse was out of control, by the way), and then cradled his jaw. My fingertips were in his hair right behind his ear. I pulled his face closer and ramped up the pressure of our lips pushed together.

He put his hands on me. I swear to God, he really did! One reached for my hip and the other came up to rest against my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed and my body took over. Not a coherent thought left in my pretty little head. Especially when our mouths separated, and then he pushed them back together.

With a mind of its own, my other hand came up and gripped his shoulder. Then my leg swung over his lap and I. Was. Straddling. Him.

It wasn’t my fault. My brain had gone haywire, my body moving on instinct. I’d quite literally never done this before. I’d kissed plenty, I even kissed Sam once (barf), but this felt different. This felt mature. Probably a little more mature than I was ready for but like I said, it was not my fault.

A lot of blame fell on Josh, a whole mountain of it, when the hand on my cheek dropped to my other hip and gripped hard, pulled me flush against him. And his lips coerced my mouth open. And the tip of his tongue swept out and touched mine.

Oh, I was in way over my head. But this was Josh, the boy I loved, and he was loving me back!

A sound I’d never made before crept up my throat. Instant embarrassment heated my already toasty cheeks and climbed up my neck, but then. Ohh then. The same freaking sound came from somewhere below me. Josh groaned. Because of me.

My animal brain completely took over. My tongue was already sliding against his, and my hips decided to follow suit. With zero finesse, they rocked into his. Just once.

He broke the kiss and dropped his head back to the cushion.

No no noooooo, you like this! You love it!

I could feel the proof that he loved it. I was sitting on it. I could see it, his chest heaving.

So I leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his throat.

“Stop, T.” His hands fell limp and landed on my thighs. My brain scrambled to catch up. Stop? Go! His fingers spread across the denim on my legs. Go go go!

But then he pushed. I leaned back to see his face, find an explanation, but his eyes were still closed as he pushed me off of his lap. Helped me swing my leg back over. Kept his hands on my thighs until they were planted back on the couch and closed. Firmly. Then they left me, and I felt their absence like a knife to the heart.

“I… wow, okay.” It’s the best I could manage to formulate, but my brain was running in overdrive.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let that happen.” He rubbed his palms, the ones that were just holding me, over his knees then leaned forward and dropped his forehead into them.

Okay, maybe he just thinks we were moving too fast!

“Josh, it’s okay. I want this! We can just kiss, I’ll stay over here and you stay there and-“

It was so quiet, but it stopped my words on my tongue and slammed my lips shut.

“I can’t.”

Okay. Okay. Okay.

It’s because Sam’s my best friend.

It’s because I’m too young.

He thinks I’m still a kid.

Like his kid sister.

Fuck!

Anger rolled through me. “Why? Is it Sam?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned to me. Looked at me, finally.

“No, I-“

“Am I too young for you? You’re not that much older, Josh and we’ve known eachother forever, it’s not that big of a de-“

“It’s not that, Tiny.” His eyes closed again.

“Don’t call me that!” He’d offended me, I was o-ffen-ded. “I’m not a little fucking kid!” Okay, I was pissed! I was a grown ass woman!

(I wasn’t.)

Both of his hands reached forward and he pulled mine towards him. Held them there. Opened his eyes. Was he gonna cry? Why are his eyes wet?! Shit, am I crying?

“It’s not you, T. It’s me.” Oh please. “I- well, I um, I like someone else.”

Back to angry! “What?! Then why the hell were you kissing me?!” What a scoundrel, what a snake, what an asshole!

“It’s not like that-“

“What the fuck is it like?!” I didn’t normally curse much at that age, but when I tell you I was mad? Hurt? Embarrassed? I couldn’t stop it from happening.

Shit, his eyes were definitely wet.

“It’s a guy.”

He whispered it, and it wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t seductive. It was sad. Scared. Defeated. I snatched my hands out of his.

There was a long silence. Uncomfortable. He stared at his empty hands and we processed.

“What did you say?” His posture shrank, like he was trying to disappear. “Josh, it’s okay. Talk to me.” It was my turn to take his hands. I held them in mine and squeezed once.

“I’m so sorry, I- I just don’t like you. Like that.” His eyes found their way back to my face, “I really like him.” They went wide and I’m pretty sure mine did too. He seemed shocked that he’d said it out loud, right before panic spread across his features again.

“Please don’t say anything, T. I haven’t- no one knows that. No one. Please.”

“No, I would never Josh, I swear. I just… why were you, ya know, kissing me?” Touching me, pulling me in. He pulled his hands away from me this time.

“I just wanted to feel normal. I wanted them to think I was normal.”

I couldn’t help it. I threw my arms around him and held on tight.

“You are.” Normal and beautiful and perfect. And not mine. A heavy sigh slipped from between my lips. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He stayed silent, so I did too. I kept my arms around him for a few minutes before finally letting them slip free, rubbing a palm between his shoulder blades.

“I guess I should go… Are you okay?” Look, I was not okay, but it didn’t seem like that was important anymore.

“Aren’t you gonna stay downstairs tonight?”

Definitely not. “No, I think I should go home…” Probably won’t show my face over here for a goooood long time.

“Let me walk with you.”

I did. He walked on the other side of my bike while I walked it by the handlebars. When we reached my driveway, I left the bike propped against the side of the garage and turned to him. And just like in my dreams, he moved close and pecked a kiss into my cheek. Then he pulled me into his arms.

“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, ya know?” His voice was soft and low, his breath tickling my ear. It should’ve been a literal dream come true.

A half step back and I rubbed my hands up and down his arms. “It’s really fine. I’m sorry for…” Humiliating us both? “Everything.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I mean it,” he emphasized when I shook my head. “Just… please don’t say anything. Even to Sam. Especially to Sam. I’m gonna tell them all when I’m ready, I think.”

Huge, massive sigh. “I won’t. I promise.”

And I never did. Not really.

[pattypanini]

Sam Kiszka x Reader Uncharted Territory

Summary: A weekend trip with your high school best friend Sam leads to new experiences you've never had before.

Word Count: 3.7k

Taglist for Oneshots

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is @mar-rein12 and I's second oneshot. We've been in a Sam mood lately so this was so fun to write. Thank you for all the support on the last oneshot! Please enjoy our first Sam oneshot, Uncharted Territory.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, penetrative sex, oral (f + m receiving), praise, VIRGIN SEX, fluff, dirty talk, submissive/dom, alcohol, flirting.

Y/n’s POV

“Sam, what should I wear?” You shout at him from your room. You both had rented an airbnb for the weekend, to see some of Sam’s friends play in a concert a couple town’s over. You stare at all of the outfits sprawled across your bed, as Sam makes his way in and plops himself right onto all of the options.  

“Sam. I can’t really decide what to wear if you’re laying on top of my clothes.” You giggle at him, and shove his shoulder playfully. He looks up at you from the bed with a big smile plastered across his face. “Get up, come on.” You reach your hand out, for him to grab and pull him up off the bed. He takes it and stands up beside you. 

“Okay so I have this purple corset with blue jeans. A black leather tube top, with a black leather mini skirt. And a…”

“Okay before you continue on, I’m gonna need to see these on before I can make a decision, sweets.”

Sweets. Something that Sam had called you since your freshman year of high school. You met Sam when he was a Sophomore in band. Both of you played piano and often played together in shows so you learned to become friends pretty fast. After he graduated, he started to play in a real band with his brothers and friend and they were slowly gaining traction. As a little graduation treat from Sam he wanted to take you on a little road trip to Ann Arbor. He lied to Airbnb saying that he was 21 so you guys could have a house in the area for the weekend. 

“I’m waiting, y/n.” You roll your eyes at him, picking up the purple corset and jeans. You work to remove the leggings you are wearing, when you realize Sam is still looking right at you. 

“Excuse me sir, I’m gonna need you to look away.” You give him a little smirk.

Sam rolls his eyes, laying back onto your bed. “If you insist.” After covering his eyes you wait there for a moment to see if he’d keep his promise. Like clockwork, he peeks through his fingers and sees that you are still staring at him.

 “SAM!” You playfully scream at him. “Keep them shut, or else I won’t try them on for you.” 

“Whatever you say, sweets.” He closes his eyes again and you quickly change into the first outfit. 

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.” You take a step back and let him take it all in. 

“Okay I like it, I don’t know if that’s the vibe for the night though.” He begins to grab the next outfit to throw it to you before inspecting the skirt. He holds it up in the air while making a face. “Y/n, what the fuck is this gonna cover?”

“It’ll be covering just enough.” You walk over and grab it from him along with the tube top. You shove a blanket over his face and change into the second outfit. You push your feet into the black leather boots and tell him to remove the blanket. After his eyes adjust to the light he takes a long look up and down your body, not saying a word. “Sam, say something. Is the skirt that short?”

“Sweets, I’m not going to lie. You look really fucking sexy.” You feel your cheeks blush at his words. “I have such a stunning best friend. I think that’s what you should wear.” He takes one final look at you before he gets up and walks out of the room. 

He turns around quickly when he reaches for the door, “I’ll be waiting in the living room for whenever you're done.” You can’t help but be taken aback from the fact that Sam called you sexy. You kind of liked it? Was it wrong to like being called sexy by your best friend? Maybe. You choose to push the thought to the back of your brain and continue to get ready. 

Once done with your makeup and hair you walk out to the living room and Sam grabs the keys to drive you both to the concert. After a 30 minute drive you arrive and Sam walks around to help you out of the car. He told you that you “weren’t allowed to get out yourself”, and that he would be covering you when you got out of the car “in case something popped out.” You don’t get why he cares so much, but you figure he is just trying to be nice. 

As you make your way inside the loud building, you find an empty spot in the crowded music venue. As they begin to play you sing along with some of the songs you recognize and dance along with Sam as much as you can. Sam was being recognized by a few girls in the audience. They wanted to talk and take pictures with him, and you didn’t mind. You liked that he was getting the recognition he deserved. After finally returning back to you he apologies for having to talk to so many people. 

“It’s okay, I know that they are just excited to see the cute bassist of Greta Van Fleet in public.” Sam smirks at you, refocusing himself on the band on the stage.

“How are you liking the music? I know it’s kinda different. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it in the first pl-.”

“Sam, I’m having fun. I’m enjoying the music too. But, It would be way more fun if someone would dance with me.” Sam grabs your hands and begins spinning you around before grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. He was very handsy, much more than he had been in the past, at prom and other events.You sway along with him for the next couple songs, your ass presses harder against him as you feel him growing beneath you. You knew this had an effect on him whether he wanted it to or not, you began to feel like he was enjoying it more than he led on. His hands trail up your stomach, resting right below your tits. Your legs feel like jello beneath you, and a wetness is forming between your legs. 

“Sammy, I don’t know if this is alright to say to your friend but this is really turning me on, like more than it should.” He smiles down at you, beginning to rub his hands over your hips. He leans his head down, bringing his mouth close to your ear. 

“If you think it's wrong then the stuff I think about is criminal.” He presses a light kiss to the side of your face, refocusing on the band. The rest of the time spent in the crowd was a blur. All you remembered was Sam’s arms wrapped around you the entire time, and feeling like you were gonna pass out in them. After the set finishes up, Sam says a quick hello to his friends. You both begin to make your way to the car and drive back to the Airbnb. 

Once your boots are off, you make your way to the kitchen and sit down on one of the bar stools. 

“Woah what is this?” Sam says from inside the fridge. He comes out and shows a bottle of wine. “I guess the last group to rent the house left some wine in the fridge. You want a glass?” You nod your head and he searches for glasses for the two of you. After filling two glasses, he places them on the living room table, coming back to you to carry you to the couch.

“If we're gonna watch something Sam can I at least change into something more comfortable?” You say as you feel your skirt begin to ride up on you. He looks down to see your skirt becoming smaller and looks back up to you. 

“You can just take everything off, and leave it off.” He says, placing a hand on your exposed thigh. 

“You're being very different tonight Sam, what's come over you?”

“I don’t know sweets, I mean you’ve always been hot but something about tonight is just making me realize it even more. You in that tiny little skirt and having you dance all over me, is making me lose it. Like I need you, badly y/n.”

You didn’t know what to say, or what he was alluding to. “What do you mean Sam?”

“I'm saying I’m really turned on y/n, and that I want to please you. You can say no, but I want to so badly, and I’m thinking you might feel this way too.” 

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about him like this before. Thinking about your best friend late at night when you couldn’t sleep, slowly inching your hand into your underwear. 

“Sam I would I just- I never really did anything with anyone before.” You say shyly, even though you know he would never judge you. 

“And? I’ll take good care of you baby, and make you feel so good. We can take it very slow, how does that sound?”

“I… don’t know what I’m doing, but if I am going to lose my virginity to someone my first pick would be you.” 

“You're not losing anything, sweets, you're gaining an experience with someone. And I’m going to make sure it is perfect for you. So how about we take this skirt off.” You stand up and turn around, allowing him to unzip and pull it down to the floor. His hands trail over your hips, giving a light squeeze to your ass.

“So beautiful…can’t wait to have my face between these gorgeous thighs.” He says, while gently squeezing your thighs. He sits you back onto the couch, “can I take this off for you too sweets?” He grabs the hem of your top, giving it a light tug. 

You nod and he takes his hand around your back, unzipping your top. You were left in nothing but your thong, since you had not worn a bra tonight. 

Sam’s eyes take in your whole body, his eyes lingering at your bare chest. You can’t help but feel exposed, maybe that's because you were fully naked in front of your friend. You begin to close your legs, but Sam interferes immediately. His hands grab your knees and peel them apart. 

“What do you think you're doing y/n, I can’t eat that pretty pussy with your legs closed.” 

You have a sudden rush of confidence. You sit up just enough, slipping your thong off and tossing it onto the ground, and spreading your legs for him. “Go ahead then, Sammy.”

“You’re so sexy y/n. I’m gonna make you feel so good. Don’t you do a single thing, just sit back and enjoy the feeling darling.” His hands travel up and down your thighs, rubbing them soothingly to calm your nerves. You tense up a little at his touch being so close to the heat between your legs. “Just relax, and let me know if at any point you want me to stop.” 

You give him a nod and watch his head disappear between your legs. You feel his lips kissing up the inside of your thigh, as a shiver travels up your spine. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are. His lips are inches away from your pussy now and you are getting impatient. 

“Sam…please.” You practically whine out, definitely sounding ridiculously desperate. 

He lifts his head up to look at you.  “Aw, does someone want something? You're gonna have to beg for it.” His finger goes through your slit, collecting your wetness. “I wanna hear you whine for me, and beg for me to eat your pussy. You think you can do that for me, be a good girl?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I’m doing a good job, you’ll have no control over it. So don’t be holding any of those pretty noises of yours in. Got it.” You nod your head and Sam goes back down between your thighs, leaving light kisses all the way down to your heat. When he finally reaches your core he lightly flicks his tongue over your clit, something you had thought about many times but could never prepare for this feeling.

Your hands immediately connect to his hair, wanting to push him further. 

“Sammy… Oh my god.” You push his face impossibly closer, his nose resting on your clit as his tongue fucks into you. You let out a loud moan, only spurring him on. 

“There it is baby. Let it all go for me.” He continues lapping you up and you’re practically squirming beneath him. “Don’t hold back for me, yeah?” 

His voice. His filthy words. It was pushing you towards climax.

“Sam, I think I'm gonna…”

“Go ahead baby, let it go. Cum all over my face.” He attacks your pussy with his tongue, giving it his undivided attention. You were feeling the knot forming in your stomach, you knew you were close. 

“OH FUCK SAM!” He continues to lick you through your release, your whole body feels like it's floating. You’re sure you’ve never felt this good ever in your life. When you come down from high, you regain your senses. You look down at Sam, as he peels his mouth off of you. 

You pull his hair slightly, for him to look up at you. “Now, let me return the favor.” You stand up from the couch and grab his hand to pull him up with you. You position yourself in front of him, sinking down to your knees. He smirks down at you, as you begin to unbutton and unzip his pants. You slowly pull them down his legs, when you hear his raspy voice. 

“Sweets, I can’t believe this is happening right now.” You look up at him, as his pants reach the floor, with concern in your eyes. 

“Do you… want me to st-” You question, not what to push his boundaries. You are already pushing the “friend” boundary. 

“Fuck, no. Keep going.” He gives you the sweetest smile and that is all the reassurance you need. Your fingers find their way to the waistband of his boxers and give them a gentle tug, releasing his cock. He kicks the boxers off with his feet and you can’t help your stare. 

His dick was right in front of your face, you felt all the confidence you had dwindling. You gulp harshly. You weren’t sure what to do, you’ve never sucked a cock before.You didn’t want to accidentally hurt him. Sam can sense your dilemma and moves to take your hand in his. “It’s okay, sweets, don’t be scared to touch it.” 

He moves your hand to his shaft and you gently wrap your fingers around it. The skin is so velvety soft, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. His hand wraps around yours and begins to help you stroke him. “That’s perfect y/n. Stroke it just like that.” His hand releases itself from yours, moving it to rest in your silky hair. 

You stroke him a little faster and in a rash decision, you let go of him to spit into your palm. When your wet hand lands on him again his head flies back. “Fuck, y/n. Feels so fucking good. Put your mouth on me, wanna feel your wet tongue swirl around my cock.” You never knew Sammy was capable of speaking with such vulgar tongue.You are fucking loving it though. You follow his instructions, leaning your mouth down to be level with his cock. 

“Yeah, Sammy?” You lick a stripe up his shaft to tease him. “You’re supposed to be my best friend. I don’t think best friends suck off their best friends, Sammy.” Your mouth encloses around his swollen, leaking tip. He lets out a needy whine. You pull off of him. “I think that’s what you like about it though, right? You like that it's wrong?”

“Y/n… please. Just fucking suck me. I’m so hard, I need to cum so bad.” You glare up at him, as he looks down at you with pleading eyes. 

You can’t let him have what he wants that easily. “Answer the question.” You grip his dick in your hand again, giving him a hard stroke, hoping to coax the answer out of him.

“Sweets, I fucking love that it’s wrong. I’ve wanted you for so long though. Just never thought you felt the same way.” He admits, you never thought you would love having power over him this much. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long too. Now, since you were a good boy and answered my question…” You take his cock in your mouth. Engulfing and welcoming him into your wetness and warmth. You moan around his cock, when you feel him twitch inside your mouth. 

“Yep… better than I could have ever imagined.” His hands are gripping at your hair, curses and moans flying off his plump lips. “I’ve pictured this so many times.” You too have pictured this too many times to count. You pick up your speed, humming lightly around him. 

“Y/n, I’m not going to last. Feels too good.” You smile around him, continuing on with your steady pace. “Y/n…” He pulls you off of him, taking a step back to look at you. He reaches up to unbutton his shirt, now standing completely bare.

“D-did I do something wrong?” You stumble out. Great, you successfully fucked everything up.

“No, sweets. Quite the opposite, but I need to feel what it’s like in that beautiful pussy of yours. Couldn’t take not knowing anymore.” He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want that darling?”

You soften your gaze, and quickly nod your head. You were thinking the same thing, just too nervous to initiate it. 

“Words.” He has a certain tone of authority in his voice, that you can’t help but rub your thighs together after hearing. 

“Yes, I want it so bad.” You stand up from your knees right in front of him.

“Go lay down on the couch, I’ll be right back.” He says, disappearing up the stairs. You walk back over to the couch and lay down on your back, your head resting on one of the decorative pillows. 

Moments later he is making his way back down the stairs. You look over the back of the couch, to see a shiny foil packet gripped in his right hand. He walks around the couch to stand above you. 

“Whatcha got there Sammy?” You smirk at him, he just rolls his eyes at you.

“Can’t be getting you pregnant, although I wouldn’t be opposed. It would be a beautiful baby, looking just like you.” He says pushing his fingers through his hair. After unwrapping and sliding on the condom he meets you on the couch, hovering above you. 

“Were gonna take this slow y/n, I need you to talk to me here okay? Tell me if you need me to stop or slow down.” 

“Okay Sam, I trust you.” He smiles at your comment before leaning down and spitting on your pussy to wetten it even more than it already is.

He lines himself up and pushes into you slowly, filling you up with his thick cock. A slight sting hits you but after a few seconds you get adjusted and give him the okay to continue. Sam slowly pumps in and out of you, trying to read your body language. After seeing that you were used to it he began to speed up.

“You feel so good y/n, so wet for me.” He pants as his thrusts get sloppier.

“Sam, please I need more, harder.” Your hands reach around him, leaving scratches on his back.

“Such a slut, begging for more. You think you’ve been a good enough girl? You think you deserve more?”

“Yes please Sam, I’ve been a good girl. I wanna feel you hit the back of my pussy.”

The need for him was strong, and he could tell. His thrusts pick up, becoming more direct and forceful. 

“Right there, Sammy. Fuck.” You clench around his cock, nails digging deep into his back. 

“Oh god baby, I’m gonna cum if you keep squeezing around me like that. So tight.”

That was enough to send you over the edge. As your moans fill the air the familiar knot begins to form in your stomach once again.

“Oh fuck Sam I’m cumming don’t stop.” Your body squirms around underneath him. 

“That’s it baby, all over my cock. God, you feel so good, oh fuck-.” With that, he releases inside of you. 

You feel the wave of pleasure wash over you and soon after Sam pushes his final few thrusts into you, before pulling out. Sam’s body collapses onto you as you try to catch your breath.

“God I wish we could have done that sooner.” Sam says as he begins to pick his warm body off of you. He removes the condom and puts on his boxers. You hear him run to the room and grab some of your pajamas from the room for you. As he slides them onto you, you wonder how you hadn’t acted on this before. Not just in a sexual manner, but something more than just a friend. He had always been like this and maybe you were just blind to never see before. 

“Sammy, that was amazing. Thank you for making my first time so special, I wouldn’t have wanted it with anyone else.” Sam grabs a blanket and wraps the two of you up while turning on the TV.

“There's no one else in the world I would have wanted to experience that with more.” He pulls you into a tender kiss, and in that moment it feels like there are no worries in the world, just you and him, and that’s all that mattered. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anyone else feeling fertile after reading this? Just me...

Taglist: @peaceloveunitygvf @mar-rein12 @terry-66 @jennabobenasblog

[hearts-hunger]

i'll be your medicine || sam kiszka x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: They say laughter is the best medicine, but you're pretty sure that's only because they haven't met Sam. | Standalone in the Sunshine Daydream universe

Pairings: Sam x Reader | Genre: fluff, sickfic (migraine), hurt/comfort | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: none! | Title song: “Deep End” by Holly Humberstone

A/N: My very first standalone fic for Sam and Birdie! This fic is a special gift to all the Sunshine Daydream besties. I hope you like it! ♡

“Yeah, man, I don’t know. I think if we add any more freakin’ reverb we might as well trash it.”

You winced a little as you listened to Sam talking on the phone, feeling from the tone of his voice that he must not be in a great mood. You couldn’t exactly tell — he’d been talking to Jake as he came in the door, and they had been talking steadily as Sam started up the handful of household chores he liked to knock out before he settled in for the evening. He was unloading the dishwasher right now, and he seemed to be very impassioned about whatever song they were talking about.

“That’s not going to fix the problem, though,” he said firmly. “The whole tone of the song is riding on that.”

You still couldn’t tell if he was arguing with Jake or just having an overzealous discussion. You didn’t like not knowing; it had always made you uneasy to not be able to read someone’s mood, and that was especially true with Sam. He knew that about you and was usually very good about being straightforward if he was upset, but he’d barely said a word to you since coming home half an hour ago.

As worrying as that was, though, you had more pressing things to worry about. The familiar ache of a budding migraine was becoming less and less easy to ignore, and you felt yourself flinch when the plates Sam put away clattered against each other.

You curled in on yourself on the couch, praying the medicine would kick in before it got too bad. The last thing you wanted was a full-blown migraine with a grouchy boyfriend, if that’s indeed what he was, and you’d rather just take care of it by yourself if you could. Unfortunately, you were beginning to think you’d taken the medicine too late to head it off at the pass. Rosie was curled up next to you, and you tried to relax against her solid warmth and manifest a beautiful migraine-free evening with the power of positive thinking.

It took about five minutes before you gave up that dream. You could feel the pain starting to spread, settling in deep where it usually hit behind your eyes and over the crown of your head. You wanted to ask Sam to get you an ice pack, but you didn’t want make him more annoyed than he already was, and you didn’t feel like you could raise your voice enough to interrupt his phone call anyway.

“Rosie, come get your dinner.”

His voice carried from the kitchen, and you guessed you’d missed him getting off the phone with Jake. You weren’t surprised; it was getting to the point where a bomb could go off and you’d be too distracted with pain to worry about it.

Still, you tried to stay tuned in to Sam; you’d missed him, and you were looking forward to spending time with him now that he was home and off the phone. He called for Rose again, but she didn’t move from her spot beside you. With effort, you sat up and tried to nudge her to go into the kitchen. 

She looked up at you and cocked her head, and you knew she wouldn’t get up unless you did. She always knew when you weren’t feeling well, and she liked to stay close and keep an eye on you when you were sick or unhappy.

You sighed. You didn’t want her to feel torn between you and Sam, but you also didn’t have the energy to try and redirect your sweet, protective, somewhat stubborn dog. 

“Come on, Rosie,” you said quietly. “Daddy’s calling you.”

You only managed to get her to hop off the couch, and she looked up at you as she sat at your feet. You thought you heard Sam again, but all of a sudden, you couldn’t think about anything but the pain you were in; you sat on the edge of the couch and rested your head against Rose, burying your face in her soft fur, trying to ride the wave of dizziness and pain without bursting into tears.

You felt Rosie’s tail thump against your foot, and you guessed that was in response to Sam coming in from the kitchen.

“Rose,” he said, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Come on, now. I know you want to be with mama, but it’s time to eat.”

She still didn’t move. You felt the tension in her even as she kept perfectly still for you, and Sam came over to see what the holdup was.

“What’s going on with my girls?” he said, hunkering down be the couch so he was at Rosie’s level. “You two just can’t be separated for even a minute, huh?”

Sam put his hand on your knee, and Rose gave a tentative kiss to the back of his hand.

“Come on, birdie,” he said to you. “You know she won’t go anywhere if she thinks you want her to stay.”

You nodded. You did want her to stay, but you didn’t want to annoy Sam.

“Sorry,” you said, lifting your head. You stroked Rose’s ear. “Go on with daddy.”

She gave the quietest bark you’d ever heard in protest.

“Rosebud, you are being downright contrary,” Sam said, giving her a playfully vigorous few pets. “You just don’t listen to anybody now, is that it?”

He looked up at you with a smile that was reassuring to see. “Has she been like this all day?”

Before you could answer, his expression clouded with alarm. 

“Are you crying?” he asked.

You touched a hand to your cheek and felt a few tears. You hadn’t even noticed them.

“Oh, uh... I guess,” you said weakly. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean, sorry?” he said, his voice tight with dismay. “Birdie, honey, what’s wong?”

“Um...” The brave face you’d tried to put on had started to crumble, and even if he was in a bad mood, you needed his help. 

“Migraine,” you said in a small voice. “It’s really bad.”

He took a sharp breath. “Okay, baby.” He kept his voice calm for you. “Have you taken any medicine?”

You nodded. “It’s not — ” Your voice caught. “Not really helping.”

“It will in a little bit,” he assured you. “We just have to give it some time to work. Let me go get you an ice pack, okay?”

He left Rosie with you and went back to the kitchen, and you heard him rummaging around for a few moments before he returned.

“Drink some water,” he said, handing you his water bottle. He turned the lights off in the living room, leaving only the light from the kitchen, and knelt in front of you again to hold the ice pack to your temple. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” you said miserably. Your head was wreathed in pain, but the ice was helping a little.

He studied your face with worry and gentleness. “I’m sorry, birdie. Did it come on all of a sudden?”

Your throat felt tight as you looked at him. “No,” you said quietly.

“No?” he repeated. His brow knit. “You didn’t say anything, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know if you were angry.” Your voice was wobbly. “I thought if I took some medicine, I wouldn’t have to bother you.”

Even in the dim light, you could plainly read the surprise on his face. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Why would I be angry?”

“I thought you were arguing with Jake,” you admitted. “That maybe you had a bad day at work, and you were still in the middle of it when you got home. And since you didn’t say anything to me when you got here, I thought...” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Oh, honey.” He touched your cheek. “I wasn’t angry. I just got caught up talking to him, but I shouldn’t have been on the phone when I came home. I’m sorry. Thank you for being so patient with me when I’m being stupid.”

That coaxed out a watery laugh, and he gave you a gentle smile.

“I’m really sorry, birdie,” he said sincerely. “You know you can interrupt anything if you need to ask me for help, right? Especially if you’re hurting.”

Your eyes welled with tears, but you didn’t know if it was from the pain or the relief of having Sam with you after missing him all day.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“No need to thank me, birdie,” he said gently. “I love you, and I want to take care of you.” He switched the ice pack to rest against the opposite temple and brushed the tears from your face. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft and worried. “Does it hurt that bad?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

He hummed. “Yeah. Just everything all together, huh?”

You nodded. “I missed you.”

“Aw, birdie.” He kissed your face when you hugged him, holding you close for a moment. “I missed you too. I’m sorry you don’t feel good.”

He ran a hand over Rosie’s head, and she wagged her tail at finally being included after sitting patiently at your side. 

“And you were just looking after mama, weren’t you, sweet girl?” he said. He gently scuffed his hand up and down her side. “You’re a good girl, Rosie.”

She rested her chin on your knee again, and Sam smiled.

“Yeah, you love your mama. I know.” He patted the couch cushion. “Come up here and lay with her.”

She did obey him that time, and you curled up with her as Sam spread a soft blanket over you.

“What can I do, birdie?” he asked, brushing your hair back from your face. 

You tried to think of what had helped last time you got a migraine this bad. You knew there wasn’t much for it but to wait until the medicine kicked in, but surely there was something you could do.

“I don’t know,” you said pitifully, knowing it wasn’t helpful.

“What about some coke?” he offered. “I think the caffeine helps, right?”

You nodded. “I don’t think we have any here, though.”

Sam had already pulled out his phone. “Good thing we live in the modern age. Do you want anything to eat?”

“I don’t think so. Well, maybe. I don’t know.” You groaned. “I hate this. I can’t even think straight.”

“So you’re thinking about Anne Hathaway? Sounds like a pretty good migraine to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

He smiled. “Yeah, but I made you laugh, and you know what they say about laughter being the best medicine.”

You tipped your face up towards him, and he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss. You felt an incredible relief to be with Sam, to have him making dumb jokes for you, to know that you could depend on him and rest completely in his care for you. The tension you’d carried since he’d come home gave way to the familiar comfort of simply being with him, and it made all the difference.

“So, a large coke... extra ice, yeah?” he asked.

“Yes please.” You hid your face behind the blanket and pressing the ice pack to your forehead. “I wish this medicine would be the best medicine. That would be great.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, a little distracted as he placed your order. “Listen, I’m just going to get you something to eat, and you can decide later if you want it. Okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

He gave a sympathetic chuckle. “My poor birdie.” He pocketed his phone. “Do you want to watch a movie to take your mind off it? Or will the sound and the light make it worse?”

“I think I just want to lay here in the dark for a while, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine, sweetheart.”

“Can you sit with me?”

“Of course.”

With a little maneuvering, all three of you found room on the couch; you lay with your head in Sam’s lap, and Rosie was curled up at your feet.

“Can I put the ice pack on the other side?” you asked, feeling a little sheepish.

“Oh, sure,” he said easily, doing it for you and putting the ice pack between your head and his lap. “You know, I was just thinking I wanted a nice ice pack to the crotch. It’s refreshing, really.”

You laughed. “Thanks. Let me know if you get a little too frosty.”

He leaned his head back and absently played with your hair, breathing a tired sigh. “This is nice, actually. We should lay in the dark more often.”

“Yeah, it is nice.” You wished you weren’t in pain, but other than that, it was nice. “So what were you not-arguing with Jake about?”

He hummed. “Well, that’s kind of a long, involved story.”

You closed your eyes and relaxed against him. “I like long, involved stories. Tell me.”

He did, and it was soothing to listen to him as he wove you a tale of brotherly bickering and artistic decision-making. By the time your food arrived, you’d managed to follow only half of the narrative twists and turns, but the sound of his voice had worked its magic.

“There’s your coke, birdie,” he said quietly, easing you up so he could get off the couch. “Be right back.”

He came back in with bags of takeout, and you found you were feeling well enough to sit up and take your drink when he offered it to you.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked.

“A little,” you said. You took a long drink. “Thanks for getting this.”

“Sure. I hope it helps.” He set the bags on the coffee table. “Are you hungry?”

You thought about it. You still felt achy and woozy, but your appetite had returned somewhat.

“Did you get any fries?” you asked.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Yep.”

The three of you got settled again, and Rosie took a few minutes from her vigil to have her dinner; you and Sam started a documentary about the making of Friday the 13th.

“I still don’t know why you like to watch this documentary when you won’t watch the movie,” Sam said. “Makes no sense, birdie.”

You laughed. “The movie’s scary!” you said. “And lakehouses are supposed to be about romance, not murder.”

He gave you a cocky smirk. “You’d know all about lakehouse romance, wouldn’t you?”

You blushed. The two of you had just celebrated your anniversary a few weeks ago; you’d gone up to stay at the same cabin where you’d fallen in love, and Sam had certainly pulled out all the stops to make it romantic in every sense of the word.

He picked up your ice pack and touched it to your cheek. “Here, birdie. Your cheeks are all red.”

You laughed and pushed it back towards him. “You’re awful.”

He kissed your cheek to soothe the icy sting. “You’re beautiful.”

You finally felt the medicine start to work as you had dinner, and Rosie came back with her chewy bone to keep her occupied as she sat next to you. Sam cleaned up when you were done, and when he came back to the couch, he asked if you wanted him to braid your hair.

“I just thought it might help,” he said. “But you look like you’re feeling better, actually.”

“I am,” you said. Between the medicine and Sam’s ministrations, you had started to feel much better. “But I would love it if you braided my hair.”

He smiled. “Say no more, my love.”

You sat on the floor between his legs, and from the first moment his fingers started to gently untangle your hair, you were in heaven. He took his time, lightly scratching your scalp, rubbing circles along your temples and behind your ears, gathering your hair just to brush his fingers through it in a soothing, repetitive motion.

“This is some braid,” you mumbled, content and starting to feel sleepy now that the pain had subsided.

He chuckled. “Does it feel good, birdie?”

You hummed in agreement. “Thank you.”

He kissed the crown of your head. “You’re welcome.”

He finally did put your hair in a simple braid, and you rested your head against his knee when he was done.

“I decided something,” you said.

“Oh yeah?” He traced his fingers over your jaw. “What’s that?”

You wrapped your arms around his leg. “I think you’re the best medicine.”

“Sweet birdie,” he said gently, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m glad I could help, honey. And I’m really glad you’re feeling better.”

He tugged lightly on your braid. “But I can tell you’re sleepy, and I don’t think you want to sleep on the floor.”

Reluctantly, you got up from your spot and joined him again on the couch. You snuggled up to him as he leaned against the arm of the couch, and he tried to pull the blanket over the two of you.

“Rosie,” he said. “You’re on mama’s blanket.”

He pulled it again, gently, just enough to tell her to move. She hopped down from the couch and then hopped right back up, tucking herself by your feet once you and Sam were settled.

“There we go,” Sam said, putting his arm around you. “Sammy and birdie and Rosie, all snuggled up.”

You toyed with his necklace as he put on another movie, knowing you’d be asleep before it was five minutes in.

“Just push me off when you want to get up,” you said. You knew he wasn’t ready for bed yet and didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay for your sake after you’d fallen asleep.

He laughed, and you loved the sound of it all rumbly and warm in his chest.

“I don’t think I’ll just push you off, birdie,” he said. “But thanks. I’ll keep that option in mind.”

You cuddled close. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said gently. He ran his hand up and down your back, easing the last of your pain until it faded completely. “I love you, birdie.”

You gave a sleepy, contented sigh as you fell asleep. “I love you too.”

sam taglist: @lil-twilight-glow @ageoffleeet

gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x@tearsofdanny @iluvjoshkiszka @jordie-gvf-admin@demolitionndann @hi-hi-hello11 @wildbluesorbit @nessie-glorpa @laneygvf

@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit@gretasmokerising@hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold @lostoverseer @catharu77 @mackalah@jaketlove @haileygvf @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog

sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here! ♡

[concreteburialplot]

Wallflower 🌸 // 03

03 - Deflowering

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x F!Reader [Wallflower]

Masterlist: here | Crossposted: ao3 | Playlist: here | Word Count: 9.3k

Summary; After your hangout with Sam at The Arcade turns into something more, you find yourself vulnerable with him in a way you’ve never been fully comfortable with before. When you explain your lack of experience, he takes it upon himself to teach you with patience and care.

Warnings; tooth-rotting sweetness, petnames, alcohol, demisexuality !!!!, loss of virginity (kinda), oral (f & m receiving), unprotected, grinding? riding?, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, gentlemanly sammy, shower, aftercare !!, unrealistic college experiences lol, 18+ MDNI

A/N; thank you so much to anyone who read parts 1 & 2, it makes me so happy to know it was enjoyed so much 🩷

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and does not reflect any members of the band or their real lives/actions/etc. - i hope you like it 💞🌸

vibes this chapter; wish on an eyelash - mallrat the alchemy - taylor swift touch tank - quinnie can’t help falling in love - kacey musgraves

The next day snailed by incredibly slow. Something about it felt different but you couldn’t place why. You had raided your entire half of the closet trying to find an outfit worth wearing to an arcade. As much as you wanted to wear a short little sundress, you figured it was best to opt for high-waisted shorts and a light blue baby tee. 

Sitting on your folded legs in front of the mirror, you analyzed your reflection. The weight of insecurity yanked you back down to earth from the fluffy cloud you’d been sitting on since yesterday. The dullness of your skin and your tired eyes seemed to scream at you, chants of inadequacy. Of course Sam wouldn’t be interested in you like that, if he was why wouldn’t he have invited you to the event himself instead of Jake, or better yet, asked you on a solo date. He was easily the most beautiful boy on campus and looking at yourself then, you couldn’t imagine him looking twice at you.

This is it, you told yourself. 

No matter how much your brain wanted to hold you back, something in you pushed you forward. 

One full go, you thought, go all out to impress him and if that’s not enough then you knew it’d be time to squash the infatuation for good. 

You pulled out your larger makeup bag that held the rest of your cosmetics outside of your essentials, the one you only took out for special occasions. Along with your makeup you pulled out your favorite hair tool.

You took your time, making every mark on your face with meticulous precision to accentuate your features perfectly - not too much and not too little. That attention to detail carried on to your hair as well, crafting it to the hair that made you feel the most put together, most beautiful. Finishing off the entire look with some lip oil, you looked stunning and definitely the best he’d ever seen you. Before leaving the dorm, you made sure to spray yourself down with your favorite perfume, making sure to hit all the pulse points. 

When you arrived at The Arcade, the flashing lights and bustling crowd made it impossible to spot Sam or the rest of the boys right away. You scanned the sea of avid players, feeling slightly out of place as you stood there, searching through the chaos. After a few moments of awkwardly lingering, you heard your name being called from somewhere in the distance. You followed the sound, weaving through the crowd, until you spotted Sam waving you over with a wide grin.

As you approached, his expression shifted. His eyes widened, blinking as he took you in, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that was anything but subtle.

“You look so... nice,” he said, practically breathless, the words coming out on an exhale, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. What you didn’t realize was how his nerves had begun to settle in, creeping through him with every step you took. There wasn’t much that rattled Sam, but somehow, in the time you’d known each other, you had become one of the few things that did.

Peach rose to your cheeks at the compliment. You took in his own appearance, his outfit was simple with plain jeans and the same rusty shirt you’d returned to him. As always, he made you nervous as well with his face perfectly sculpted and tan, and his hair voluminous and wavy. You were jealous at how effortlessly beautiful he was. “So do you.” You replied politely.

He smiled a toothy grin at the compliment, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flush on his cheeks as well. 

“So…where is everyone?” You asked, noticing that he was alone, and this was supposed to be a group event. 

“Oh,” He looked all around behind him at the bustling arcade. “The rest of them brought dates so, they’re kinda scattered.”

You had to keep your eyes from widening. 

Did that mean you were his date all along and you had no idea?

“Let’s get drinks first!” He suggested cheerily. Sam had already had a beer to calm his nerves before you arrived, but he’d never tell you that. He guided you over to the neon bar with a gentle hand on your lower back. The warmth of his palm was enough to make you dizzy, feeling the heat radiate into your hips. Once at the counter, you recognized the bartender, it was Sam’s food delivery friend from the other morning. It seemed that Sam had friends and connections everywhere.

“What’ll be Samuel, another beer?” The tan boy asked as he was shaking a metal container full of a beverage for another patron. 

Sam quickly diverted the conversation before you could focus on the implication of his pregame beer, “I’ll take an Ale and,” He pivoted to you with a hand waiting for your answer. 

“I’ll have a White Claw.” You replied, not wanting to carry around an open glass or be too complicated. 

He shifted back towards the bartender with a cheeky smile, “And a White Claw for the lady.” 

You leaned against the counter, letting your eyes scan your lively surroundings. The arcade buzzed with chaotic energy, lights flashing in every direction and the air thick with a mix of laughter, competitive shouts, and the relentless dinging of machines. The place was packed — drunk college students crowded around the neon-lit games, hollering at their wins and groaning at their losses, creating a cacophony that was almost as overwhelming as it was fun. It was so packed that you still hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the other three boys. 

Thankfully though, since it was an adult arcade there were no children running about. But a room full of drunk college kids wasn’t much quieter or less chaotic. Their energy was contagious, but also a little suffocating. You scratched your arm, feeling the overstimulation prickle at your skin, trying to ground yourself in something other than the barrage of noise. The clatter of skee-ball, the rapid-fire clicks of buttons, and the constant beeping and flashing lights seemed to swirl around you. Just as you took a deep breath, Sam’s hand tenderly found your arm, giving it a little squeeze causing the tense energy in your chest to calm just a bit. It was a tiny gesture, but it was soothing, like ice on a swelling injury.

“You okay?” His brows furrowed up in concern and you were a bit self-conscious that he could notice your discomfort so easily. 

You plastered a smile across your lips and nodded, “Yeah, yeah. It’s just a little loud.” You didn’t want to worry him, you knew that once you both were playing something and the alcohol entered your system that you’d relax.

He grinned softly, “Let me know if it gets too much, okay?” 

“Will do.” You nodded but wanted to move off the subject as soon as possible, not wanting to make it into a bigger deal than it was. 

He handed you your beverage and brought his own bottle to clink against your can.  “C’mon I already loaded the token card.” He gestured towards the games and walked towards the entrance, looking over the room as if it was full of opportunities. “What’re ya feelin’?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” You shrugged, suddenly overwhelmed at all the options. So, you defaulted to a classic. “Air hockey?” 

A mischievous grin curled at the edges of his lips, “Oh you are so on.”

You giggled as you trailed behind him towards the blue and white table, “You’re right because I’m a fucking pro at air hockey.” 

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He took his spot with the red paddle, leaving you with the blue one on the opposite side. “Ready?” 

“Fuck yeah.” You spread your legs into a competitive stance. 

Sam slid the card through the slot with a smirk, eyes glinting with playful competitiveness, then the machine lit up with a cheerful jingle as the air hockey table whirred to life. Pucks rattled onto the surface, and you were quick to grab your flat, blue paddle, feeling the cool rush of air from the table against your hands as you slid into position.

With an almost effortless swipe, you sent a puck spiraling into Sam’s goal. Another shot followed right after, zipping across the table like lightning. A playful grin crept onto your face as you dodged another puck and sent it straight into the slot.

Sam, meanwhile, was determined. His brown hair fell into his eyes, but with a swift motion, he tucked it behind his ear, never breaking focus. His tongue peeked between his lips as he squinted with laser-sharp concentration, brows furrowed and eyes flicking back and forth as he tracked every puck that dared to cross into his zone. It was hard not to laugh at how intensely he was taking the game—and yet, it made him look even more attractive, a balance of beautiful and utterly adorable. You could tell there was nothing more in his head right then than winning, even though he wasn’t. You contemplated letting him win to boost his ego but your competitive streak wouldn’t relent. 

With one last clank into the goal, your scores blinked on the archway above the table: 280 | 420

“What the hell, you must’ve cheated or something.” He huffed.

“I think this might be a long night for you, Kiszka.” You teased.

“We’ll see about that.” He retorted confidently, squaring his shoulders.

From Mario Cart to coin pushers to Wheel of Fortune and claw machines, your winning streak would not quit. The only game he had had any luck in was a rhythm based game where you had to hit specific panels in time with the beat. He soon caught onto the fact that he easily won those so he had dragged you to every single music-centered game. 

“7 Tokens left.” He informed.

“Hmmm.” You scanned over the floor, before you could suggest anything he let out a small, excited, “Oh!”

You look up at him with a tilted head.

He pointed to the back left corner. “Photobooth, let’s go!”

You grinned wide at his suggestion and the pure excitement in his voice, but it quickly fell as he ran towards the booth. You stood there frozen, unexpectedly flooded with the nervousness of being so close to him in such a cramped space. 

However, a wave of pride washed over you when you remembered how perfect you made yourself look that night. If Sam was gonna have a picture of you forever, you’d make sure it was a good one. 

With newly reinvigorated confidence you made your way over to Sam with your head held high. “Well, get in, let's go.” 

“Okay, okay, miss bossy.” He raised his hands up in defense before swiping the token card. He used his hand to pull the curtain door aside and slid into the bench. 

When you joined him inside the pod-shaped booth you realized it was most definitely meant to be for children from how small the bench was, with Sam taking up most of the real estate. 

“Oh.” You said softly, feeling out of place and a tad sad that it wasn’t something you both could do together anymore. 

“It’s okay.” He gestured towards himself with a swift hand. “Just sit on my lap.” 

Your eyes rounded slightly in surprise, but you nodded, a bit unsure. As you took a tentative step toward him, your foot caught the step up, and before you knew it, you stumbled, falling right into his lap. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you landed, your heart racing from the sudden movement.

Before you could even process what had happened, his arms were around you, steadying you in place. His hold was firm yet comforting, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Warmth spread across your skin beginning from your cheeks, it was a simple phrase but one that made you weak in the knees. “Thanks.” You breathed out with a humiliated smile. 

He kept one hand securely clasped around your hip while the other fumbled with the photobooth controls. “Alright, we got 20 seconds.” He said, his voice tinged with playful urgency. 

“Okay!” You giggled, sitting up as much as you could and ready to strike the silly pose the screen was prompting. 

“Oh, wait!” He interrupted and goosebumps spread across your body when you felt his hand cradle your cheek, pressing his thumb into your cheekbone. “You’ve got an eyelash.” Seamlessly, he slid his hand down your face so that his fingertips held your chin while his thumb presented itself in front of your lips. “Make a wish.” And when you didn’t immediately follow his direction, he clarified your confusion, “It’s good luck!” 

You glanced down at the eyelash, then met his eyes—deep brown and earnest. The air between you was thick with anticipation, your breath mingling in the small, dimly lit space. You blew a gentle puff of air, sending the eyelash tumbling away, but Sam’s gaze remained locked on yours. The moment felt like it stretched on for far longer than it did.

Suddenly, you were extremely aware of his closeness and the hand that never left your cheek. His eyes darted to your lips, and you felt a palpable shift in the air. The playful tension melted into something more profound, more urgent. Your heart was frantic in your chest and your breath was held in the back of your throat. With every passing second, the space between you seemed to shrink until it felt almost unbearable. You could feel his breath warm against your skin, his touch tender yet electric.

Sam’s gaze returned to yours, searching, and you could no longer ignore the pull between you. Without another word, Sam leaned in, and your heart raced as he closed the distance. His lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss, your eyes fluttering closed at the soft pillow-y feeling of his lips. The photobooth camera flashed, capturing the perfect moment in a burst of color and light. The world outside ceased to exist as you melted into the kiss, feeling the soft press of his lips and the thrill of something new and undeniable.

You both melted into the kiss, your lips moving together with a tender intensity that felt exhilarating. You shifted in his lap for easier access to his lips without parting from him. Your hands found the sides of his face, holding him there so gentle yet firm. He kept one hand on your cheek and the other on your hip anchoring you in place. The photobooth captured each frame, preserving the sweet, stolen moments for eternity. When the flashing finished, you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed. 

His pupil-blown eyes bounced between yours, seemingly searching for something - perhaps some sign that you enjoyed it, even though it was quite obvious you did. When neither of you said anything, he spoke up first. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He breathed out. 

“You have?” You whispered back, still in disbelief. 

He chuckled, “Yeah, silly. Was it not obvious?” 

A blush grew on your cheeks. “Maybe. Maybe I’m just oblivious.” 

“I think so, Wallflower.” He smiled and used his hand still on your cheek to smoothly pull you into another kiss. It was soft yet sparking, full of tension suppressed from the past couple weeks. It was nice to finally have him in the way you’d been daydreaming about for so long. When he pulled away, his eyes were filled with both adoration and need. His skin was tingling with excitement every place your bodies touched, and he desired more of you. “You wanna get out of here?” 

You nodded quickly, full of the exact same need and tension. “Take me home, Sam.” You expelled on a breath.

After collecting the photo strips that preserved the sweetness of your first kiss together, you both snuck out of The Arcade without a single goodbye to anyone. 

The trek home was drunk, giddy and affectionate, new love now sparked fully and openly between you both. It was still so new that all the touches were charged but reserved. It was like driving a new car, so excited to take it for all it's got but wanting to preserve the shiny newness. Your hands entwined together, giggling, leaning back and forth on each other just to feel the others’ warmth. 

Once inside the elevator heading to your floor, the playfulness didn’t end. His arms wrapped around you from behind, getting you used to the feeling of his lips on your cheek. It was around floor 2 that a mischievous grin spread across Sam’s lips, his hands slowly headed for your midsection and quickly attacked. You let out a squeal at  the sudden tickling, not expecting at all. “Ah!” You got out between giggles, “Sammy!” 

He just laughed victoriously as you squirmed in his grasp, counting down the seconds til the elevator doors opened for the 3rd floor. 

The second those metal doors slid open you took off like a gazelle trying to escape a predator. “Stay away from me!” You called down the hall without care for the sleeping students residing behind the walls.

“I’m faster than you!” He said, quickly catching up to you. 

You ran to the end of the hallway and realized you had nowhere else to go. His door was closest to you and so you scrambled trying to open it in hopes that he’d forgotten to lock it. Unfortunately for you, he hadn’t.

“Ha, I gotcha!” He announced, his fingers finding their way to your middle again causing you to nearly double over in uncontrollable laughter. When he realized you were wriggling around enough to escape, he grasped your waist and lifted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs and arms around him for stability. 

As you slid down into where his hands supported you at his hips, the giggles that filled the air dissipated. You both took one look at each other before your lips met feverishly. It was the first heated kiss you shared together, and it had lightning striking all over your body.

His soft lips that you only just learned the feeling of, pressed hard against your own. You mutually opened your mouths and allowed each other in. He tasted like beer and cigarettes in the best possible way. You wished you could bottle up the scent, taste and feeling of him.

He pressed you against the door as he hurriedly searched his pockets for his dormkey. As he worked, your hands buried themselves into his hair trying to see how much you could distract him. By some miracle he got the door open, took one single loop around just to press you against the other side of the door. 

Your tongues danced together, neither one fighting for dominance but desperately needing the other. He pulled away just to drop his head into your neck and had your eyes widening when you felt his lips meet your pulse point. 

“Sam.” You breathed out, your legs still wrapped around him tugging his hips tighter against your core. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of him sucking at your skin. The tingling feeling beneath his lips felt like it dropped directly to your center, blooming a buzzing need there. Your fingers gripped into the roots of his hair as you let out a moan you disguised as a sigh when his teeth lightly dug into your flesh. 

His hands slid up your thighs, giving them a strong squeeze as he pressed himself further against you, letting you feel how mutual the energy was. He let out a little frustrated groan against your neck before pulling you off the door and carrying you to his bed. He didn’t let you fall but carefully set you down, his mouth never leaving your neck. If there was one thing for certain, it was that there would be evidence of this night tomorrow. 

He began moving his kisses down, “I need to taste you.” He mumbled and you froze at the implication. He seemed to pick up on it and stopped, looking up at you curiously through thick brown lashes. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked lifting his head up to eye level with you. 

“I um,” You began but fell short. 

“We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.” He reassured quickly, feeling a bit guilty for jumping the gun.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…” You trailed off hoping he’d put it together, but he anxiously awaited your words. “I’ve never… done… that.” You finally explained with an embarrassed grimace and when the look of realization hit his features you covered your face with your hands. You wanted to roll over and die in humiliation. 

“Oh.” He replied simply, obviously not thinking this was going to be part of the journey. But just because he wasn’t expecting it to be part of the experience, didn’t make him any less excited, just more concerned about your comfort. 

“I know, it’s so embarrassing!” You squeaked beneath your hands. This was the last thing you expected happening tonight and you were nowhere near ready to explain that you’d only done some of the basics and none of them were ever pleasant for you. You’d get to a certain point with a couple boys but couldn’t do anything more than fingers and handjobs. You always fell short for one reason or another, for a while you thought you might’ve even been asexual, but you were definitely not questioning that label now. You never had real feelings for the other boys, but you did for Sam, and maybe that was the difference. 

“Hey,” He said, cupping your hands with his own, pulling them apart gently. “It’s okay. It’s not embarrassing.” He reassured and you wouldn’t have believed him if it hadn’t been for that loving smile of his. “If you want, we can stop now. If you wanna continue, then I can show you how good things can feel. Okay?” 

You nodded, “I wanna continue.” You replied quicker than you intended and blushed at the smirk it brought him. 

“Okay then,” He smiled and leaned down to kiss you again. “How about we do like…” He thought for a second, “Colors? Like red, yellow, green? So that you can tell me if you need me to slow down or stop?” 

You didn’t expect a boy to be so accommodating or understanding, you were flooded with the comforting feeling of being cared for. “Okay.” You nodded down at him as he continued his original path. 

His hands snaked down your sides lingering at the hem of your tee. “Shirt?” 

You mulled it over in your head, the bra you chose was nice and had some lace, so you nodded. “Green.” 

He smiled and helped you slip out of it. He took a moment to admire you, “God you’re beautiful.” His head dipped back into the crook of your neck, placing a kiss below your ear. “I can’t wait to make you feel as good as you look.” 

Blood rushed to your cheeks at his comment and sent a flurry of butterflies between your legs. He placed slow open-mouth kisses down your neck, across your collar bones and then where the bra left your breasts exposed. You’d never been kissed there, and it felt foreign but nice. His sizable hands slithered underneath you, running his fingers across the band of your bra. “Color?” 

You hummed, not fully confident yet to commit. “Um, yellow? You can undo it but not take it off…just yet.” 

He smirked against your skin, “You got it, Baby.” 

Your heart swelled at the nickname, it was the first one he’d given you romantically. You loved the sound of it coming out of his mouth. 

He continued leaving kisses down your bare stomach until he finally reached your shorts. “Col-”

“Green!” You nearly spat out and covered your mouth with bright red cheeks. The wetness pooling between your legs was becoming all you could think about. Any time he’d suck and swirl his tongue on your skin all you could imagine was what it would feel like on the most intimate part of you. 

He chuckled at the urgency in your response. “Okay then.” 

In one swift pull of your shorts, you were left with just a thin piece of cotton protecting you from complete vulnerability. 

He kneeled down between your legs. “Oh wow.” He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his eyes locked on your covered center like he was hypnotized. What you didn’t realize was that your white panties would show just how excited you were. Two of his fingers trailed up your inner thigh until just before your core. “Color?” He asked, his voice sounding almost drunk at the sight of you. 

“Yellow.” You wanted to say green, but your nerves stopped you. “Like, green, but slow.” 

He nodded, completely entranced with you as he slowly pulled your panties down, baring you completely. You felt so vulnerable and exposed that you snatched a pillow from beside you to cover your face.

You stiffened the second you felt his touch on the lip of your pussy - it was an odd feeling, being so excited yet so incredibly nervous. 

He took his time exploring you gently, just to get you accustomed with his touch before actually doing anything. He was doing such a good job at making you feel comfortable that it was taking a little too long for you. You moved the pillow enough to peek down at him, “Green, green.” You informed, urgently.

He grinned, finding it endearing. And with that he let himself give into you completely. He pressed a kiss just above where you began before pressing his tongue gently into your clit. You were so worked up that that alone made your mouth make an “O” shape. “Oh my god.” You breathed out slowly. The feeling only worsened when you felt him smirk against where he just licked. 

“Oh, baby that’s nothing.” He said quietly before licking at your nub again. “Fuck you’re so wet and I’ve barely touched you.” 

He decided it was enough teasing and finally dove into you fully. His tongue worked diligently in slow but tight circles with an occasional vertical motion. You had long foregone the pillow by then, choosing to watch him devour you instead. 

He pulled away for just one second to say, “God, you taste like fucking heaven.” before diving right back in. 

You were convinced his tongue contained some sort of magic from how good it was making you feel. With each turn of his tongue, it sent waves of buzzing euphoria along with it. You never knew you could feel those sensations, nothing you’d done with anyone else ever felt that good. But Sam was attentive and really fucking talented at what he was doing.

Abruptly, you felt a tight knot forming in your stomach. “Oh, oh, I, I think, I-” You began but felt short of words, trying to hold on for dear life.

“Just let it happen, Baby, it’ll feel so good I promise.” He said quickly before returning to work you towards your peak. 

Not long afterwards you followed his instructions, or rather, he forced you to when his tongue began making 8’s on your swollen bud, you were done for. 

As cliche as it was, you felt like an exploding firework. Electricity sparked across your body, washing every bit of you in blinding pleasure. It stole all the air from your lungs and words from your mouth. In that moment you were useless to the world, lost in the utter bliss he’d given you. 

His tapering pace brought you slowly back down to earth. You hadn’t realized that your fingers were clamped in his hair until he stopped. 

He licked one last fat stripe up your entrance trying to get every last bit of you on his tongue. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling, too nervous and too shy to look down at him. Though, it seemed he wasn’t allowing that to happen. He lovingly stamped open mouth kisses up your body from your center to meet your face. As if he could sense the anxiety swirling in your body, he took your cheek in one palm while the other kept him propped up. “You were perfect.” He whispered.

You blinked up at him, wondering if that was even possible. You’d argue if your head wasn’t still fuzzy and floating in the clouds. 

He chuckled fondly at your blank response, “Did that feel good, Flower?”

You just hummed and nodded against his hand. “Good…so good.��� You mumbled into his palm before giving it an exhausted kiss. 

He smiled that radiant smile of his and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You tasted amazing.” He whispered against your skin. “I could eat you all day.”

You scrunched your nose up at the thought, not believing anyone would find it enjoyable to eat someone out for that long. But the thought soon shifted into experimental curiosity, surely, he couldn’t do that… could he? Could you? How would you endure that for so long… how many orgasms could you possibly have?

Even the mere idea of another orgasm like the one you just had, had your head spinning. In that moment you realized it could be dangerous, sleeping with Sam, because you’d never had a high like that – and just like a brand-new addict, you wanted more.

He moved to lay down next to you, he laid flat on his back but with his head turned to you, which you mirrored. “Was that okay? Are you okay?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, “Yes. Yes.” 

The edges of his mouth curled up, “Good.”

All of a sudden, you furrowed your brows at him while he tilted his head, silently questioning your confusion. 

“Well, what are you doing? It’s your turn.” You stated as if was obvious. 

He laughed fondly at your innocence, “It’s okay babe. I told you we could take it slow.” 

“No, no.” You shook your head vehemently as you peeled yourself from the mattress to straddle him before he could stop you. 

His head tilted off the bed to look at you with wide eyes. He had taken you in while you were laying down, but now you were almost fully nude sitting on him. 

“I wanna learn.” You answered his wordless question simply. Your hands raked down his clothed body until they reached the button of his jeans. 

He cleared his throat, shifting below you, already feeling him hardening beneath your bare cunt. “What?” 

“I want to learn.” You repeated, slowly sliding the metal button through the slot before tugging down the zipper. 

Your nervousness had taken a backseat, the absolute euphoria he gave you had empowered you. You wanted to return the favor, you wanted to be the one to make him feel like that too. And the pulse that returned to your pussy begged you to go all the way. You trusted him, you might even love him, what a better choice was there? 

You mimicked the actions he’d done to you, leaning down and pressing light kisses to the side of his neck. Your hands took a break from his jeans to slide beneath his rusty shirt wanting to feel him as fully as he had you. “Off.” You begged below his ear. 

When he nodded you sat back up to give him the space to tug the shirt off by the neck and toss it to the edge of the bed. You marveled down at his toned chest, running your fingers over the tan ridges. “You’re so handsome.” You said softly, almost ashamed at the rather proper compliment in such an improper setting. 

He let out an adorable chuckle at the compliment and placed his hands on your bare hips. “And you’re so beautiful. Angelic even.” He trailed up your sides to your barely-on bra. “May I?” 

You blushed and nodded, finally ready to bare yourself completely to him. You helped him peel the garment off and discarded it to the floor where the rest laid. 

“God,” He breathed out as his hands tentatively found your exposed breasts. “Could you get any more perfect?” His thumbs flicked at your nipples while he began working the flesh in his palms. 

The feeling of someone’s hands on you in general was foreign but you were quickly warming up to his touch. As he played with your breasts you worked diligently on tugging his jeans down enough to where you could grind against his covered cock. 

He was so preoccupied with you that he didn’t realize what you were doing until you were pressing your bare pussy against his straining cock in his briefs. His jaw fell slack at the shock of it. “Oh my god.” 

That’s where you learned that you loved getting that reaction from him. It only fueled you, rutting yourself back and forth on him slowly. Rather quickly you realized that you desperately needed him out of his boxers. 

You dropped to hover over his face, keeping yourself up with one arm while the other lazily played with the band of his underwear. “I want to suck your dick.” You didn’t wait for a response. “Will you teach me?” 

You didn’t know if his eyes could widen any further then felt his cock twitch against your pussy and it filled you with the most pride you’d ever felt in your life. 

“Oh- I,” He stuttered over his words and blinked blankly up at you. “Yes. Yeah. Yes.” He nodded quickly. 

“Okay.” You giggled, finding it adorable how flustered and excited he got. You were finding that sex came with a feeling of power that you quite enjoyed. 

You slinked off of him and sunk down to your knees between his legs, giving you the opportunity to pull his jeans down fully before slipping two fingers on each side of his short briefs. “Color?” You asked as a cheeky joke. 

“Green, definitely green.” His eyes watching your fingers intently.

And with that, you tugged the geometric patterned underwear down, finally letting his cock spring free. Your eyes took it in fully, following the length of his underside. It was larger than any other dick you’d partially hooked up with, the size both excited and scared you. With any other boy you had never felt comfortable enough to use your mouth, the thought of it with them always disgusted you - but Sam was making your mouth water. 

“Teach.” You asked in an impatient but naive way. 

“Lick.” He blurted out, probably wishing something more eloquent came out. “Taste.”

You followed his instruction, reaching your tongue out to meet the head of his cock. Sam pulled his lip between his teeth watching you, needing more but knowing you required time. Instinctively, you snaked your hand up to hold him at the base so you could take his tip in your mouth fully. The skin there was soft and delicate, and tasted salty of skin mixed with precum. You hummed at the flavor which sent his eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck.”

After you got a sense of him in your mouth, you took the initiative to take more of him - that got you a little groan in the back of his throat. “Fuck baby.” He adjusted beneath you slightly. “Lower.” He instructed, watching you again then went to say something but hesitated. “Use your tongue.” 

You wiggled your brows as you cautiously set your tongue out against the underside of his shaft as you went lower, taking even more of him. “Oh, yeah. Just like that.” His voice dripped in needy lust, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

When he hit the back of your throat, you didn’t expect the involuntary gag that it caused. Despite what you thought was a disgusting noise, he let out a full groan at it. “We can work on your gag reflex a different time.” He breathed out. “For now, just don’t try to push it.” 

You hummed an ‘okay’ with him entirely in your mouth then dipping your tongue out to lap at his base before moving back up and pulling off with a pop. You continued the motions you’d learned on him, looking up at him occasionally to watch his face contort in pleasure.

“Fuck.” He groaned with his brows furrowed up and his jaw slack at your bobbing movements. “I think I-“

You popped off of him to interrupt, “Sammy. I want you inside me.”

He shook his head, “No, baby, you don’t want that I promise, not like this.” He heaved out, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and his eyes half lidded down at you. “If I fuck you right now, I think I’d destroy you.” His fingers raked through your hair in admiration. “When we do, I want to take my time. And there’s no way I’d be able to hold myself back from you right now.”

Disappointment in your features was present, but you knew he was right. You didn’t want your first time to be rushed or hasty either. As you held his pulsing cock by the base an idea bloomed in your head like a lightbulb flickering on. “Okay…” You said slowly, “How about this.” 

Sam furrowed his brows at you as you brought yourself back up on your feet. “What’re you doin?” His chest rose and fell quickly as he asked. 

Your knees found each side of his hips and you carefully sunk down on his thighs behind his length. His eyes were bright and desperate like he was a kid in a candy shop wanting to taste every morsel of sugar. His focus was locked in on the proximity of your pussy to his cock and how it was taking every bit of self control to not just give in to you. Your hand gently found his cock and tenderly held it vertically against your lower tummy. The visual made you almost nervous for when you eventually do take him inside you, he was so long there was no way he’d be able to fit completely. Your thumb swiped at the precum that pooled at the tip and brought it up to your mouth. 

His eyes widened as he watched you suck his residue off of your finger. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, letting out a small moan. You had no idea what had come over you, just that you were being commanded by throbbing that had made home in your cunt. It was like you were possessed with the utter need for him.

“You are so fucking… fuck, I don’t even know, I don’t have a strong enough word to describe how incredibly stunning you are.” He said quietly, in complete awe of you. He felt as though he truly had an angel in his lap. His cock twitched in your stationary hand as he spoke, proof that he was so turned on by your beauty alone. 

Rose red tinted your cheeks at his words, making you feel bashful again momentarily. The flattery though, quickly turned into fuel. You carefully pressed his cock down flat on his own stomach. Your eyes met his as he watched you slide forward to have his cock slot between the wet lips of your cunt. He sucked in a harsh breath at the feeling of you enveloping him. “Fuck.” He breathed out. 

He looked so gorgeous this way, so on edge and needy and completely infatuated with you. You couldn’t take a single second of it more. You bent down, nudging his nose before rejoining his lips. It was difficult to keep your desperation together as you kissed him, but you wanted it to start off sweet before descending into depravity. He lifted his head to be closer to you and his hands reached up and held your cheeks as he swiped at your bottom lip. He used his hold on your face to bring you down closer to him. Your tongue met his again hesitantly at first, refamiliarizing yourself with his kiss. When you began rutting your hips on him, all control left both of you. Your tongues entwined themselves feverishly while moans escaped your mouths. Grinding your cunt against him proved to be rather pleasurable for you as well as for him. Every time your sensitive clit passed the ridge of his swollen head it made you clench around nothing - all you wanted was for him to be inside you, it was all you could think about. While the action wasn’t everything you wanted, it was fulfilling your needs. 

The same knot as before began to form in your tummy but it was building faster than you could keep up with. The ache in your clit chased release faster and faster with your movements against him. You grew wetter by the second which greatly aided your speed. You pulled away just a centimeter, “Sammy,” You breathed out pathetically against his lips. “I’m close, really close.” 

He nodded quickly. “Me too.” Truth was that he’d been close for a while but had been holding on by a thread, wanting you to climax first. 

His mutual confirmation alongside with your accelerated momentum tipped you over the edge violently. Your head fell into his neck as you fucked yourself on him, letting moans pour from your mouth and into his ear. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groaned out as he finally let go, painting his chest with his own milky release. 

The twitching and bouncing of his cock against your overly-sensitive clit threw you into an unexpected new sensation. Your stomach burned with an overpowering feeling, something between discomfort, pain and pleasure. You whimpered sharply, gripping hard at his arms, “Oh, oh!” Your nails dug into his skin as another unexpected orgasm approached, this one stronger than you’d ever experienced before. Your entire body seemed to lock up at the overpowering pleasure and then something happened that you had never encountered before - nonetheless knew you could do. You felt a bit of liquid release from you and onto him. It was a foreign but extremely pleasurable feeling combined with the extended orgasm your body was experiencing. Once you rode out your high and realized what you’d done, you stilled completely. 

“Did you just-” He began but you cut him off. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You nearly shrieked in embarrassment and sat up in his lap. “Oh my god, that’s never happened before, I-I didn’t know that was gonna happen. Oh my god your bed, oh I’m so sorry I-”

“Baby, baby, baby.” He placed his hands on your hips to ground you. “It’s okay.” He paused. “That’s never happened before?” 

You brought your thumb up to your mouth to anxiously chew on your thumbnail and shook your head. “No, never.”

He grinned proudly, which confused you because you expected him to be upset. “Did it feel good?” 

A shy smile tugged at your lips and gave him a small nod. “Very.” 

“God that’s so fucking hot.” 

Warmth littered your cheeks, “What? Really?” You asked naively. 

“Fuck yeah. I wanna make you do that again. And again.” He squeezed your hips. “Fuck, even on my face.” 

You smacked his arm gently, “Don’t be nasty!” 

“Speak for yourself angel, you’re the one that just fucked yourself on my cock.” 

“Ah!” Your post-orgasm clarity suddenly making you feel incredibly bashful over all of the atrocities you just committed. You covered your face, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

He chuckled, taking your hand from your face and bringing it up to his lips to place a chaste kiss there. “Whatever you say, Flower.”

You looked at him a little confused, remembering that he’d shortened your nickname earlier too. “Flower?”

“Well, yeah, you’re not that shy around me anymore.” He teased, but you pouted. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

“No, I do. I like it.” You tugged at your lip with your teeth, feeling vulnerable. “Just don’t stop using the first one too.”

His heart couldn’t have swelled any more than it did at your request. He loved that you liked your original nickname enough to not want to let it go. “You got it, Wallflower.” He placed a couple more kisses on your hand before giving your hip a pat with his other hand. “C’mon, let’s clean up.”

Sam carefully sat up and snatched the shirt he had tossed off earlier and swiped his chest clean. He set the crumbled shirt off to the side and let his fingertips trail down your arm to tenderly reach your hand. “Shower?” He suggested softly, bringing your hand to his lips again, looking up at you with large brown lovestruck eyes through thick lashes. 

You offered a tired smile and nodded, “Sounds perfect.” 

He grinned, gently easing you off of his lap and leading you over to his bathroom. You were infinitely grateful for his in-dorm shower.

He did everything for you, turned the shower on, tested the water with his palm, helped you step over the ledge, he treated you so delicately, like a princess. 

You reached up to the shower caddy for some body wash only for him to grasp your wrist. “Can I?”

You chuckled, turning around to face him, “Can you what? Wash me?” 

His smile was hesitant and almost shy, but he nodded, “Yeah. I wanna take care of you.” He stretched his arm past you to grab his own body wash and a loofah. You raised a brow at the suspicious puff, not necessarily wanting to use his personal loofah. 

“Don’t worry.” His voice was soft and low. “I got a spare, in case you wanted to shower one of the nights you escaped from your roommate.” His hand squeezed the woodsy-scented gel onto the cream-colored puff. 

“Really? You did that for me?” You asked quietly while you watched him work the blue gel into the mesh. He brought the loofah to your side first, swiping it across your middle. 

“Yeah, of course.” He whispered, moving the puff across your torso and intently watching the suds pour down your skin. 

You nudged him, “Oh that’s why you wanna do this.” You teased, rolling your eyes.

“It’s certainly a plus.” A cocky smile tugged at the edge of his lips. “But no, we did a lot, I wanna do this, I wanna make sure you feel okay.”

You wrapped your hand around his boney wrist, “I do feel okay, Sammy.” You blinked up at him before letting your gaze fall down to the tile. “It wasn’t that much anyway. We didn’t even…” 

“Hey.” He used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark brown eyes bounced between yours trying to read them. “We can take as much time as you need. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do that. Okay?”

Your heart filled with gratitude, thankful that the boy you happened to fall for was one who was so kind and patient - in your previous experiences, boys were anything but patient and kind. Your eyes couldn’t help but water at his compassion. 

“Oh,” He pulled his hands from you as if he was somehow hurting you. “Oh, did I do something wrong? We could get out, or-”

“No, no.” You sniffled, bringing a finger to wipe the tears pooling in your eyes even though you were beneath running water. “No, you’re just so…sweet to me.” You shrugged.

“You’re crying because I’m…sweet?” He asked, confused. He passed the loofah back and forth between his own hands anxiously. 

You chuckled, “Yeah, just,” You sighed, letting your arms fall to your sides. “My past romantic experiences haven’t ever gone well.” You admitted with a hint of sadness in your tone. “They were always pushy and always tried to force me to do things I didn’t want to do. And you just… are so sweet, and kind, and caring, and patient with me.” 

The edges of his lips downturned at your words. “I’m sorry you’ve had those experiences but,” He brought a hand to tilt your chin up to meet your eyes directly. “Me being kind to you is just the bare minimum, Y/N. It’s not worth crying over.” 

You went to argue but he stopped you. “I don’t want you crying over mediocrity, you deserve the world, Wallflower. If you let me, I’ll show you more than just kindness.” 

While his words meant to stop your crying, it only worsened it, so much so that you couldn’t help but throw your arms around his torso and bury your face in his chest. You weren’t sure what you wanted to say so all you could muster was, “Thank you.” 

“Oh, angel.” He said softly, smoothing out the back of your wet hair. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.” His heart ached at the thought of anyone being rough with you, especially rough enough to elicit this sort of reaction over sheer kindness. He couldn’t imagine having anything other than love behind any motives when it came to you. The idea of someone trying to force you to do anything or being mean to you was so unfathomable to him. It only made him want to treat you better, to prove that you were worthy of so much more. 

Your arms tightened around his middle before pulling back, feeling vulnerable. You wiped a tear away, “Maybe I’m just extra sleepy.” 

“Okay baby.” He tucked a chunk of your damp hair behind your ear and placed a kiss to your head. “Let me take care of you here so we can go to bed, does that sound good?” 

You nodded, surrendering to the tenderness in his touch as he took over washing you. His hands moved with such deliberate care; every gesture filled with quiet compassion. If you weren't so naive, you might’ve even recognized it as love, though the warmth spreading through you was undeniable.

He started with your arms, his fingers moving gently as he lathered the soap, the sensation of the suds against your skin both soothing and intimate. He worked slowly, his hands grazing over every inch with such gentleness that it made you feel cherished in a way you’d never known before. When he moved to your legs, his touch remained soft but steady, as though he were taking the time to make sure every part of you was tended to, like you were something precious.

Then came your hair. He carefully massaged the shampoo into your scalp, and the sensation was so blissfully relaxing you could feel any tension draining from your body with every stroke of his fingers. The rhythmic pressure of his fingertips kneading your scalp was enough to lull you into a state of near-sleep, your eyelids fluttering as you gave in to the calm. 

You leaned into his touch, the sound of the water running over your skin mixing with the gentle hum of his breathing. It was as if nothing else existed in that moment—just the steady, soothing motions of his hands, the warmth of his presence, and the quiet intimacy that filled the space between you.

When he was done with you he washed himself and after a while, the warm water began to cool. The faucet squeaked as he turned the knob and when the water stopped he gently guided you out of the shower. 

With a soft, sleepy sigh, you stepped out of the shower and he promptly wrapped you in a soft towel, drying you off with the same gentle care he’d shown before - slow and unhurried. You barely noticed, your limbs heavy with drowsiness, the warmth of the bath still clinging to your body. The air felt cool against your damp skin, but the comforting weight of his presence kept you from shivering. 

Too drowsy to even think about getting dressed, you barely registered as he guided you toward the bed, your legs heavy with exhaustion. You let the towel fall to the floor mindlessly b-lining to the mattress. 

You slipped beneath the soft covers, sinking into the comfort of the sheets against your bare skin as sleep tugged at your eyelids. The day’s fatigue along with everything that happened at the arcade and all that occurred in his room just moments ago was slowly pulling you into the quiet embrace of sleep. 

You curled up, naked and content, sinking deeper into the mattress as sleep tugged at the edges of your consciousness. The bed dipped gently when he slid in beside you, and without a word, he pulled the blanket over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders. You felt his warmth immediately, his body like a shield from the cool night air, and you instinctively melted into him, seeking out his newly familiar heat.

In that sleepy haze, with the soft weight of the blankets and his arms around you, a new feeling bloomed in your chest, one you couldn’t quite name. It was a feeling you hadn’t fully recognized before, a warmth so profound it went beyond mere safety. “Safe” didn’t seem to capture it, though it came close. It felt more like being cradled in a world of your own, shielded from everything outside, like sitting in your car during a storm, listening to the rain lash against the windows while you remained dry and untouched, wrapped in your own private bubble.

The sensation was so pure and overwhelming, you silently prayed you’d never have to live without it. It was a quiet plea, the kind you whisper to yourself when you realize you’ve stumbled onto something too precious to lose.

Sure, it felt like a lot to entrust to a boy you’d only known for a month, a college kid whose life was as unsteady as yours. But you found yourself trusting him in ways you hadn’t trusted anyone before. You’d already given him pieces of yourself without hesitation—your laughter, your secrets, your body— why not your heart? 

You knew it was a risk, but lying there in the quiet, with his steady breathing lulling you closer to sleep, you felt certain there was no one else you'd rather trust with it.

Sam’s arm tightened around your midsection from behind, pulling you flush against his bare body and something about it was so intimate, but not necessarily sexual. It was comfortable, vulnerable, and special. 

“Goodnight, Wallflower.” He whispered thinking you were already asleep. His lips placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, and it sealed your deal with slumber. 

“Goodnight, Sammy.” You smiled softly, letting sleep pull you under.

As you hovered on the edge of dreaming, a quiet certainty settled in your mind—if you were ever going to give yourself wholly to anyone, it would definitely be Sam. He made you feel things you’d never known before—things that filled you with warmth, comfort, and a sense of safety you'd never experienced with anyone else. Your heart swelled with a feeling too early to name, too early to speak, too early to be completely sure of. But it didn’t stop you from feeling it fully. Just because it was early didn’t mean it was any less real to you. And maybe, just maybe, one day you’d be brave enough to tell him. Until then, you held that feeling close, savoring the hope that this was only the beginning and that perhaps he felt the same way.

A/N; i am contemplating this being the ending of Wallflower? but i am conflicted, so please let me know if you’d like another part or two? 💓

Either way, i hope you enjoyed the journey so far, please let me know your thoughts/feelings/etc! 🩷🩷

Jake fic coming soon

Taglist; @measuredingold @sacredthefran @shutupdevvie @i-choose-the-road @musicislove3389 @persuasivus @broken0mens @peaceloveunitygvf @deathblacksmoke

[tearsofcaravel]

Chemistry: Part 4

Chemistry: Part 4

Jake x Danny x (F) Reader

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+, graphic sexual content, this is a slash fic!!!, teasing, unprotected penetrative sex, dom & sub situations, coming out, BDSM, M & F penetration, language, dirty talk, M & F oral, let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: You and Jake decide it’s time to make some confessions. Smut. Smut. Smut.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Y/N POV

The voice came echoing through your home. You knew that voice, well voices. Josh came in faster than your bodies could move and Sam directly behind him.

You must have forgotten to lock the door last night after letting Danny in. You met Danny’s stare. Both of your eyes bulging from your skulls. You were ripped from your trance. This isn't exactly how you wanted to come out to everyone. You had less than a minute to make yourselves some kind of decent.

Danny scrambled to grab your clothes that were strewn across the living room. You knew how you both looked, red faced, tangled hair, sweat covered. There was no hiding it.

“Is Danny here? He’s usually late to our cookouts,” you heard Sam quiz.

You were begging for Jake to wake up any second now. You and Danny slid on what little clothing you had started out with. Josh and Sam finally made it to the living room.

“Hello, anyone home, I-..” Josh started then quickly cut off catching you and Danny’s eyes on the couch. His eyes turned the size of saucers, Sam’s as well.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Josh boomed at you both, pointing his finger to you both. He knew almost instantly.

You tried to act normal as Danny stayed silent beside you. You had narrated this conversation in your own head a few times now. Every scenario had included Jake beside you and certainly not this awkward situation you were in now. You thought you had longer before anyone found out. You knew they would, or that you would eventually tell them, but not this soon.

“Jake is still sleeping, why don’t I-” you started, but were cut off.

“Jake is here? You mean you guys did this not only in his house that you share, but with him still asleep in your room!” Josh was yelling, red faced. You had never seen him so angry. He never gave you a moment to explain.

He made a quick move to your bedroom, where Jake was sleeping soundly through this entire conversation. “JAKE! Jake get up!” Josh yelled, slamming your bedroom door open.

Of course Jake shot up at that. Josh waited for him to throw some pants on and hobble out. “What is all of this yelling about, geez?” Jake groaned out, still trying to wake up.

He made eye contact with you and Danny, realizing quickly what Josh and Sam had walked in on. “Well good morning everyone,” Jake peeped out.

“Jake, it's the afternoon. We made plans, remember? That’s not important right now. I think that Y/n and Danny have something to tell you.” Josh said clearly annoyed and angry now.

“Oh yeah, what’s up guys?” Jake said grinning. Of course Jake would turn this into a game or a joke.

“Jake, this is serious,” Sam huffed out.

You knew better than to look at Danny. He was still silent, squeezing your thigh. The three of you were clearly trying to suppress the laughs that were ready to erupt out. It was a funny situation you had found yourselves in. You were surely to be laughing about this hours from now. But for now you and Danny especially were a ball of nerves.

“Uhm, well, Danny and I were-” you tried to start.

Josh cut you off once again, finishing your sentence for you. “They were fucking. When we walked in, they tried to hide it. Jake I’m so sorry…”

You had to appreciate how protective they both were of Jake. You knew they meant well. You mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to Jake, earning a strange look from Josh and Sam.

Jake walked over to you and Danny, joining you on the couch. “Why don’t you guys come sit for a minute?”

Josh and Sam slowly took a seat on the opposite couch. Jake took the spot between you and Danny, holding each of your hands. “What’s going on?” Josh whispered.

The three of you shared a look, nodding your heads, it was time. “So guys, I guess now is a better time than any,” he paused to take in a breath. “Y/n, Danny, and I are together. We’re in a relationship. They weren’t doing anything wrong,” Jake started.

Josh and Sam listened carefully, taking it all in. The shock covered their faces. “Can we ask questions?” Sam said. Of course he was the first to speak up.

“Of course,” you said.

“When did this start? How did this start? How long has it been going on?” Sam began rolling in the questions.

“Why don’t we give them a minute,” Josh said.

It had been some time since Danny spoke. He seemed shocked, maybe it was too soon for him. He had hardly looked up.

“I’m so sorry guys. I would never have acted like that if I had known,” Josh said sorrowfully.

“Josh, it's okay. You didn’t know. I do appreciate how protective you guys were over him though, it was from the heart I know,” you said.

“I appreciate you guys sharing this with us, thank you,” Josh said, Sam agreeing.

“Maybe we should get the fire started and have some drinks. Then we can discuss it more if you guys wanted,” you suggested.

“This calls for a celebration!” Sam exclaimed.

So that is exactly what you did. You all smiled at one another and made your way to the backyard. You did wish that your own bubble had lasted a bit longer, but it did feel like a weight off of your chest. It was nice that your closest friends knew. It was also nice how accepting they were. You were worried that they might be weird or awkward about it, but they were the most accepting people that you had ever known.

You were in a state of comfort now. Being able to hold both of their hands in the open.

Danny POV

You had been racking your brain for a while now, maybe months. You didn’t quite understand your own feelings at first, and you were still coming to understand them now. You were falling for them much harder and much faster than you had imagined you would. The three of you had had plenty of conversations over the last few weeks about your deepest feelings.

You had concerns that you had kept to yourself about telling people. Not because you didn’t want to, you did, more than anything. You were proud of who you were and who you were with. Josh and Sam cared about you and you knew without a doubt they would be accepting of you. But you didn’t want them to tiptoe around you.

You had hoped for more time to wrap your head around it all. You didn’t really know how anyone would react or how to even start the conversation. That bubble was busted as soon as Sam and Josh walked in and saw what they did.

As soon as you heard Josh yelling like you had never heard before you went into another world. Unable to form any thoughts or words. You sat frozen in your spot on the couch. You focused on the carpet underneath your bare feet. You heard voices talking, but they were muffled. Anxiety and fear were taking over.

“I’m happy for you guys, this is wonderful!” you heard a voice say.

You felt a squeeze on your thigh, “Uhm Danny? Would you like to add anything?”

You did it. You came out. You felt empowered, even happier than you already were. You didn’t think that was even possible.

You could see the relief shared between the three of you, the happiness that flowed through the room. You spent the evening opening up to Josh and Sam about your still new relationship. They wanted every last detail.

Jake POV

The four people that you cared for the most sat around you. You could feel Josh’s happiness and acceptance of you in your bones. It meant everything to you.

You thought that coming out would be harder. But it was the easiest conversation you had ever had.

The weeks went by like a dream. Danny stayed almost every night. He had all but moved in with you. The relationship was better than ever. You were learning more and more about your dynamic and how to make things work.

Tonight he decided to head to his own house. You and Y/n decided to make it a date night between the two of you. Towards the end of the night after a few glasses of wine Y/n led you up to the bedroom.

You and Y/n had shared everything with Danny. Every secret, detail, and element between you. He fit right in. He was a part of you both now.

There was one thing that the two of you had left out. One not so little detail, a secret you shared. You and Y/n hadn’t talked too much about it. You simply decided that you would tell him when or if the time was ever right.

There was another side to yourselves that you hadn’t involved Danny in. Part of you felt guilty about keeping it from him. You wanted to be honest with him. But a part of you also wondered if it would scare him away.

As Y/n straddled your lap seductively she spoke, “Why don’t we take this somewhere else?”

You knew exactly what she was getting at, where she was talking about.

“Before we do, could we talk?” you whispered.

She nodded and let you continue. “We should tell him. I think it’s time. Don’t you?”

“It’s almost like you read my mind. I’ve been thinking that maybe we should invite him into our other world,” she spoke so genuinely.

“What if we called him now?” you asked.

“What if we had one more night of it alone? Just the two of us, to just be our’s?” she spoke as you lifted her from the bed and carried her down the hall.

“One more night. Just us baby,” you said as you typed in your security code.

The lock lightly clicked, you griped the handle and turned it swiftly, opening the door to your separate life, separate world. As you made your way in your mind was taking you back to when you’d had this room added into your home. The look on Y/N’s face was priceless. You only came out of the room when you needed food and water for atleast the first week after it was ready. You had never told a soul that this room existed. Until Danny came into your lives you had never even considered it.

Adrenaline coursed through you. Excitement went to your center. You wanted this night to last. It was going to be exciting bringing Danny into this world, if he accepted the invitation that was. It was fun to know that this would be your last night with this secret between you and Y/n.

You took the lead now, guiding her to the satin red sheets on the king size bed in the center of your secret room. This room held secrets, pleasure, excitement, and much more.

The room had no windows, no other entrances. It was dark, but illuminated in the right places. Your play materials lining the walls.

You were inside of your secret that you were keeping from your boyfriend. You had many different names for it. Just one more night. Tomorrow you would call Danny.

Danny POV

You had slept at your place only a handful of times since you had been on break. Especially since coming out, you had stayed with them more and more. Tonight you had decided that you were feeling more like being alone. Even on the few nights that you had stayed at your place, you had spent the days with them. You hadn’t gone without them a single day. You were head over heels attached. You were in this deep.

The next evening you found yourself on the way to Jake and Y/n’s place. Something felt odd. At first you would call or send a message to one of them before coming over. Now it was just expected of you to show up, that was when you did leave. It was later in the afternoon when Jake had called, there was something in his voice that you weren’t familiar with yet. He specifically called you and asked you to come tonight. Something that he hadn’t done in weeks.

It was more of a demand rather than an invitation. You felt almost compelled to do whatever he told you. There was something in his voice that seemed dark, almost sinister. You could hear Y/n giggling in the background.

Just as you hung up the phone, you got a text message.

Y/n🌸❤️: Attachment 1 image: “See you soon!”

Your eyes went wide as you clicked to open the message. There she sat, straddling Jake's lap. Both of them naked, her delicate hands wrapped around his length. His mouth attached to her breast, leaving a trail of purple marks.

When you got to their front porch you hesitated. Did you knock or just walk in like usual? It looked dark inside, you couldn’t see or hear anything. It was too quiet. You decided to just walk in, everything was fine, everything was normal. It was just your nerves working you up.

You slowly opened the door, “Hello?”

You heard the turntable playing slow, romantic music. The crackle of the fire caught your attention, it was the only light in the room, besides a few candles. You looked over to the living room to see Jake and Y/n snuggled up in front of the fire. They must not have heard you come in. You took a moment to capture this image in your mind. They looked so peaceful. They were turned away from you, all that you could make out was their silhouettes.

You shut the door just enough for them to hear you.

Neither one of them spoke, but they turned their heads to you and smiled. You took this as a sign that everything was alright and to come all the way in. Y/n patted the spot on the ground beside her for you to take a seat. You sat down onto the makeshift palette with them. Now you could finally see them.

“Hi baby,” she spoke sweetly, placing her silky legs in your lap.

The fire illuminated them with a bright orange glow. You felt your eyes go wide. Jake had his back laid against the couch. Y/n was slotted between his bare thighs.

They wanted you to see them this way. Naked and exposed, all for you.

They each had a look in their eyes that was new to you. It was something dark, mischievous. You weren’t sure what to expect. The three of you sat in a comfortable silence. You couldn’t peel your eyes from either one of them. You had seen them naked numerous times, been more than intimate. But this seemed different somehow.

“I think that you’re a little overdressed,” Jake said, eyeing your figure.

“What’s the occasion?” you quizzed. You knew that they had to have something up their sleeves.

Y/n spoke up, “We just wanted to have a nice evening together, that’s all.”

You didn’t believe a word that she said, her eyes telling you an entirely different story.

Y/n POV

You and Jake had decided to share more than your secret with Danny. This night was going to be a special one. You had many romantic nights together, spent all of this time building your relationship together. You had spent all day together trying to figure out the way to do it. The way to show him, to tell him. The last thing that either of you wanted was to scare him away.

Now Danny sat in front of you. The fire illuminating his caramel eyes as they bore into you and Jake. You could tell that Danny was a bit intimidated by you for the first time. You sat up from Jake’s lap to help Danny get undressed. You guided him back down to join you and Jake on the floor.

Here you sat in silence again. This time Danny sprawled himself out for you and Jake to gawk over. He didn’t let you look too long before he straddled himself over you and Jake. Sometimes you forgot how dominating he could be. His curls structured perfectly around his glowing face, his innocent and caring eyes switching between you and Jake. Little did he know what you had planned for him.

Jake wrapped one hand around your body and brought the other to Danny’s face.

“We wanted to take care of you tonight baby,” Jake spoke with meaning.

Jake looked back to you, letting you know that he was ready. You swiftly switched your positions. You pushed Danny back into Jake’s spot, comfortably sat up. You and Jake straddled each bare thigh. Jake began peppering kisses down Danny’s body, while you brought your mouth to his. You swiped your tongue over his bottom lip, he eagerly opened his mouth to invite you all the way in.

Jake gripped the back of your neck, pulling you from Danny’s lips. Slowly, he swiped his thumb over Danny’s lower lip, sucking it between his teeth. He quickly took your spot on his lips.

Once Jake pulled away from Danny, you all sat back for a moment to catch your breath. You took these moments to take in each other’s essence. The crackle of the fire and the slow steady breathing from you sounded the room.

Jake took a deep breath and spoke softly, “Before we take this any farther, Danny, Y/n and I would like to talk to you about something.”

Jake’s eyes darted between you and Danny. You could tell he was trying to gather his thoughts. You were shocked that he spoke first. You were always the one to find the words to everything. Danny was clearly panicked by this, not knowing what to expect.

Jake nodded to you and squeezed your hand for reassurance one more time before there was no going back.

“Is everything alright?” Danny said nervously.

“Yes baby, everything is great. No need to be worried. We just wanted to talk, that’s all,” you said now squeezing Danny’s hand to reassure him.

“You know, we’ve spent almost all of our time together. It’s been an amazing time, you basically live here. You know that I’m not the best at putting my feelings into words. I feel, well, we both feel that our feelings for you have grown deeper,” Jake began.

You watched lovingly as he spoke so passionately. You could tell that he was starting to get a bit overwhelmed with emotion. He started to stutter and become bashful. His cheeks were red and teeth flashing white as he grinned. He glanced up to you, signaling for you to take over now.

“Like Jake was saying, our feelings have grown deeper for you. You mean so much to us both. You’ve become more important than we could have imagined. Our relationship has blossomed into something beautiful,” you paused, catching your own breath, and working up your own nerves.

You cupped Danny’s blushed pink cheek and held Jake’s hand tightly, “What I’m trying to say is that, I love you. We don’t want you to feel pressured to say it back or anything like that. We just felt that it was important to tell you how we feel about you. What you really mean to us,” you felt a happy tear fall silently down your cheek.

“I love you, Danny,” Jake said looking caringly into Danny’s eyes.

Danny looked between you two. He seemed a bit stunned by your confessions at first.

“I love you both, so much,” Danny said to you both.

You were all crying just a little. Happy tears of course. Each of you feeling giddy and joyful.

There was an energy charge in the room like you had never felt before. You were drenched, your boyfriends were impossibly hard. You slid over to straddle Danny. Without warning you sunk down onto him completely. He let out a deep groan at the sudden stimulation and gripped your hips. Jake took the spot behind you, placing his hands on top of Danny’s. They began to work your hips together, making you fuck harder onto him. He brought one hand up to your lips, instructing you to open. He pushed his calloused fingers into your mouth.

He brought his soaked fingers to Danny’s entrance. Slowly going deep inside of him as you rode him. Danny’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. You were both crying out now.

“Honey, wasn’t there something else we wanted to tell Danny?” Jake whispered to you, just loud enough for Danny to hear.

“What did you want to tell me Y/n?” Danny said, never slowing down his pace.

“Go ahead baby, tell him,” Jake said as he fucked his fingers harder into Danny.

You tried to form the words, whenever you tried to slow down Danny only worked you harder.

“You’re only making this worse on yourself you know,” Jake grunted, smacking your ass harshly.

You knew if you didn’t make the words come out soon you would have a harsh punishment in store for yourself later. “D-Danny, we have something that we wanted to share with you,” you just barely got out.

“Oh yeah sweet girl? And what would that be?” Danny said, clearly just as close to his end as you.

“Jake, can we show him, please?” you moaned.

“If you cum for us we can baby,” Jake said.

Jake had found Danny’s sweet spot, curling his fingers deep inside of him. Danny swirled his fingers swiftly around your clit. You felt his hips falter and he squeezed around Jake’s fingers. You felt him coat your walls as he spilled inside of you. Just as he filled you up you let go. Jake was holding you up as you came down.

Jake pulled you up slowly, you hissed at the loss of Danny inside of you. You felt his mess spill down the inside of your thighs.

Danny stood up slowly, pulling Jake in for a kiss. He asked again, “So is anyone going to show me?”

You and Jake shared a grin. You had just confessed your love for him, how hard could this be? You were both still a bit nervous to show him this other side of you. The one that no one knew. Jake took the lead, you and Danny trailed right behind him up the stairs. You stopped in front of what everyone knew was just another storage closet.

“You’re showing me the closet?” Danny said, confused.

“Hm, not exactly,” you chuckled.

Jake opened the door and moved around a few boxes, exposing a keypad built into the wall. Jake slowly punched in the code. The false wall slid open, exposing the dimly lit room. Jake walked in first, Danny and you followed directly behind. Danny’s eyes went wide. You flipped on the bigger light to give him a better view. His eyes didn’t know where to land. His face was red. All of you were clearly nervous.

Danny was now in your den. In the center of the room was a king sized bed, with red silk sheets. On each corner of the bed were black cuff restraints. The right side wall was covered in toys, top to bottom. Whips, floggers, blindfolds, vibrators, rope, cuffs, and much more. The left side had a swing and handcuffs hanging from the ceiling. You had LED lights illuminating the room in a deep red.

You watched as Danny took it all in. Inspecting every bit of the room. His feet seemed to be glued to the floor. Jake’s eyes were glued to him, just watching and waiting for any kind of reaction.

“So, uhm, what are you thinking?” you peeped out, holding your breath for his response.

“Honestly?” Danny whispered.

“Please,” Jake said.

“I can’t believe you guys have had this back here the entire time! This is amazing! I uh, I’ve never really engaged in any BDSM type of stuff. I mean handcuffs ya know, but that’s all. Nothing as serious as this,” Danny explained.

“If it isn’t something that you’re interested in, there’s no judgment here. There’s no pressure to do anything at all. We just thought that it was time to show you this part of our lives. We wanted to have shared it all with you,” you explained softly.

“Thank you for sharing this with me. I would like to be a part of this side of your relationship. You just have to, you know, explain things to me. I don’t really know how any of this works,” Danny said, a smile spreading onto his face.

You saw the joy on Jake’s face. This meant so much to both of you.

“Would you like to maybe try something out tonight? We would start slow of course. We aren’t going to jump into anything you aren’t comfortable with. You could watch if you wanted?” Jake asked eagerly.

“Maybe I could watch first, if that would be okay? Then maybe I could join in?” Danny asked shyly.

There was a small couch in the corner of the room. It had a perfect view of the entire room, all angles. Danny made himself comfortable, not really sure what to expect. You both kissed Danny passionately and made your way to the middle of the room.

You and Jake figured that you would take it slower tonight. You didn’t want to overwhelm Danny with too much at once. You were excited for him to see this side of you and excited to have him watch.

“Go pick and then get on your knees in front of the bed, hands out.” Jake commanded you.

“Yes sir.”

You were determined to put on a good show for Danny. You saw the way his eyes lit up at Jake commanding you. You went over to your wall to make your decision. You picked out a pink silk blindfold with matching handcuffs and a small flogger.

You laid it out on the bed, got down on your knees, and waited patiently. It was all about intimidation for Jake, especially with Danny watching. He loved to keep you on your toes, watching and waiting for his next move. He picked up the blindfold first and held it out for you, “Put it on.”

You slipped it over, covering your eyes. The loss of the sense was exciting. “Hands.”

You eagerly held your hands out to him. “Behind your back.” He tightly put on the handcuffs.

He slapped his hard cock against your face a few times, “Color?”

“Green, Sir.”

“Now open.”

You opened your mouth and held out your tongue. Jake let a string of saliva fall to your tongue. He tapped his cock on your tongue, mixing your saliva on his head. He slowly slid himself to the hilt. He pulled in and out a few times. Getting you used to the feeling first. He began slamming down your throat. Fucking your face brutally. The pornographic sounds that were coming from the both of you were sinful. He was making a mess of you quickly.

He pushed himself to the hilt once more and held himself there. With your throat full, he told you to take a deep breath, then he held your nose. Tears began falling from your eyes, your throat was burning, you were trying your hardest to hold back the threatening gag.

He pulled away completely, removing himself from your throat, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Danny, do you want to come try her out?”

“Are you sure?” you heard Danny quiz nervously.

“Tell him what you want baby,” Jake demanded.

“I want Danny to use my throat however he wants, Sir,” you pleaded.

You heard them shuffling around the room. You could hear Danny’s heavy breathing now. You could sense his presence over you.

“I’ll guide you through everything, don’t worry,” Jake said to Danny.

“You don’t have to do anything that you aren’t comfortable with. First, ask her for her color.”

You took a minute to adore the way that Jake was helping Danny along. It was a very intimate moment that you were sharing.

“What's your color sweetheart?” Danny asked gently.

“Green,” you said. You left out the ‘Sir’ part on purpose.

“Do you want to correct her or me?” Jake said to Danny.

“Will you show me how?” Danny answered shyly.

“I’m going to show Danny how to correct you now, okay baby?” Jake said.

“Yes Sir.”

You heard Jake pick up the flogger still behind you on the bed.

“Stand up and bend over the bed.”

You obeyed.

Jaked rubbed the swell of your ass a few times, tapping it lightly. This was him letting you know what was about to come. “You can start out gentle and work your way up from there. She likes it anyway that you’ll give it to her.”

You felt the burning sting as it made contact with you. Just the sound of the ‘crack’ made you wet. Another ‘crack’ and you felt yourself tighten around nothing.

“You see the mess it’s making of her cunt. I told you she loves it. I bet that she left out ‘Sir’ on purpose. She does that sometimes. So, do you want to try now? Remember you don’t have to until you’re ready?” Jake said to Danny.

You heard Danny take the flogger for himself. “Color baby?” he asked.

“Green, Sir,”

You wished that you could see this. You loved when Danny was dominant, but you knew this was on an entirely different level. He mimicked Jake’s moves, rubbing the swell of your ass, even pecking gentle kisses against your whelped skin. The first crack was soft, as Danny got his bearings. He punished you with two more licks. These two were rough, just the way you liked. His nerves melted away. You could tell he was comfortable now.

“Fuck - Thank you Sir,” you whimpered out. Your blindfold was tear stained.

“Oh Jake, you were right. We haven’t even touched her and she is a soaked mess,” he said.

“Sit up,” Jaked instructed.

“Now go back to your place, so that Danny can have his way with your mouth,”

You sat and waited for Danny. You heard them kissing, passionately. Torturing you. They were being loud on purpose, knowing that you couldn’t see anything. You whined pathetically, begging for something, anything.

“Oh I think that our girl feels neglected,” Danny said.

“Tell Danny what you need then. Be good for him,” Jake said.

“Please Sir, fuck my mouth, anything. I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” you begged.

You felt Danny move inches from your face. He rubbed the head of his cock against your plump lips. “Open.” Danny instructed you.

He was slow and gentle at first. He had been rough before, shown his dominating side. But he had never been like he just saw Jake be with you before.

With his cock down your throat he spoke to Jake, “Can you get me something?”

You heard Jake pick something from your assortment of toys, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly. You felt something wrap around the back of your head. It took you a moment to realize what you were feeling. A tight leather belt was wrapped around the back of your head. Danny was holding the reins. He was slowly pulling your head forward, forcing you to swallow him whole.

You were aching to touch him, see him. You wanted to look into his eyes as he made a mess of you. He began to fuck your face brutally, in an animalistic way.

You were trying your best to get any kind of friction. Rubbing your thighs together, in hopes that neither of them would notice. Of course Jake knew all of your tricks. He caught you almost immediately.

“Stop,” Jake ordered.

The pressure from the belt around the back of your head faded away, Danny slowed his pace to a complete stop and removed himself from your mouth. You could hear Jake walking closer to you. He yanked the blindfold from over your eyes.

You knew the look in Jake’s eyes, the game that you were both playing at. And just maybe you were both toying a bit more to put on a show for Danny.

“I was feeling generous tonight. I was going to let you choose, but now I think that I will be making the choices,” Jake growled at you as he lifted you off of the floor. He gave you just a moment to steady yourself before throwing you onto the bed.

“Look at you, a pathetic mess already and we are only just getting started,” he spoke again as he untied your hands, only to tie them right back. He sat you in the upright position, each of your arms laid out and tied to the silk ropes on either side of the bed. He was making you sit and wait, drawing out every well calculated move. Danny had stayed at his place at the end of the bed, watching and waiting.

“Color?” Jake dryly asked.

“Green Sir,” you muttered.

“Now. You will sit quietly and patiently, and you won’t speak until spoken to. You will simply watch,” Jake said. You watched Danny’s eyes go wide.

“I understand Sir,” you said excitedly. He always managed to come up with some new punishment.

He waltzed over to your display of toys and picked up a blue and white wand, as well as rope. He sunk himself in between your thighs, tying the rope tightly around your thighs. Placing the vibrator directly on your soaked cunt. He turned it on a low setting at first, you knew he really was just getting started.

He directed Danny to the center of the bed, almost close enough for you to touch. Just out of your reach, which is exactly what he wanted. Jake made the next move. He began kissing Danny’s neck, softly at first. He guided Danny into his lap, seducing him in no time. In seconds they were furiously making out, fighting for dominance.

You watched as Jake squeezed Danny’s thighs. Danny’s hands wandered up and down Jake’s back, into his hair, tugging gently.

Jake flipped him over now, switching places with Danny. Licking his way down his torso. He kissed along his thighs, just enough to tease him. He licked his tip, wrapping his hand around his hard length. You watched, mesmerized as Jake’s head bobbed up and down, his pace quickening. Danny’s eyes rolled back, struggling to look at you and back to Jake. His muscles flexed, his body was twitching. He pulled Jake up by his hair and took a deep breath, “Y-You have to stop or I’ll cum and I’m not ready.”

“No baby? You think you’re ready for your real turn then?” Jake said as he raised up from Danny’s center.

He continued on, looking between you both now, “Who’s going to be better for me? Do you think that you can obey as well as her? Take it as well as her?”

Danny looked bewildered, stunned, but thrilled as he spoke up, “Yes sir.”

Jake stood Danny up forcefully only to push him down to his knees. Jake placed himself at the edge of the bed. Danny now face to face with Jake’s throbbing cock. He didn’t waste a second before gathering up Danny’s thick curls in his fist and pushing himself down Danny’s throat.

You let out a moan that you had been trying your best to keep in. Jake continued to fuck into Danny’s mouth as he reached out and turned the vibrator to a higher setting. You jerked up at the feeling, pulling at the ties that held you down. You were craving touch from either of them.

The sounds that were pouring from Danny’s mouth were nothing short of pornographic. You watched as he tried to get relief, jerking himself slowly. Jake noticed immediately and pulled him off. Jake had made a mess of him, tears were streaming down his face.

“Both of you are being so good for me. Colors?” Jaked asked both of you.

“Green sir,” you and Danny answered simultaneously.

He guided Danny back onto the bed, never letting him know that he saw. You wondered if he was going easy on him or playing a game. You knew it was probably the latter choice. He would let Danny believe that he had gotten away with it, for the time being.

You couldn’t wait any longer and Jake knew that. You were moments from falling over the edge. You were overstimulated and you hadn’t even been touched.

Jake turned off the vibrator and began untying you. Danny waited patiently at the end of the bed. “Danny, swap places with her,” Jake ordered.

You crawled over to Danny, putting your hand on his cheek lovingly, “You’re safe you know baby, we got you. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“No, no I want to, I’m just a bit nervous. I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Danny whispered back.

“We’re going to show you, don’t worry,” you cooed.

Danny crawled to where you had just laid. Jake tied the silk ties around his wrists and you tied them around his ankles. He smiled sheepishly at you. You could tell he was getting more comfortable with everything.

Jake made sure that Danny felt okay, then his whole demeanor changed, like the flip of a switch. He grabbed the wand that had just been tied between your legs. Flipping the switch on low at first and running it up and down his hard cock. He looked Danny in his eyes, “You think that I didn’t see that? You thought that you could just get away with breaking the rules? Well that just won’t do now will it?”

Danny was shocked, he had thought that he could get away with it or maybe that Jake would go easier on him. But he was more than mistaken.

Jake turned the vibrator up another notch, “Now, tell me what you did wrong.”

Danny stayed silent, trying to hold his composure together. His voice came out wavering and low, “I touched myself without your permission sir.”

“Y/n, come sit on his face. Don’t get off until he has made you cum.” Jake spoke directly to you.

“And you, you don’t get to cum until you’ve made her cum,” Jake ordered Danny.

As you climbed on top of Danny’s face you whispered in his ear, “Don’t forget to ask for permission.”

You straddled his face and lowered yourself down to his mouth. Danny worked his tongue around your clit expertly. Lapping you up, darting his tongue in and out. You were gripping the headboard to hold yourself up, your own legs trembling around Danny’s face.

“Is Danny making you feel good baby?” Jake asked.

“Y-yes sir,” you moaned out.

“Tell him how good he’s making you feel then,” Jake directed.

Danny’s own moans were pushing you closer and closer, vibrating through you. You looked down at Danny. His face was glimmering with your slick, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. You knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. His whole body was trembling with need.

You looked over to Jake, his hair falling around his face, his eyes dark with lust. You loved this side of him. “Can I please cum sir? Can I please cum on Danny’s face?” you begged.

“Cum for us baby,” Jake said.

As soon as the words left his lips you were letting go, moaning for them both. Both of your hands tugging the dark bed of curls below you. Your thighs gripped around Danny’s face. You felt Jake’s free hand holding up by your back. Your legs were weak as Jake helped you up. He gave you a few moments to collect yourself, but he never let off of Danny.

Once the haze had lifted from your eyes you looked up to see Danny almost to tears. He was a squirming pathetic mess. You listened as he begged Jake to let him cum and Jake just continued to edge him.

Jake instructed you to take the wand. “Ask us both. No - beg us both.” Jake commanded to Danny. You were a bit stunned. Jake let you take the reins every so often, but you certainly didn’t expect it tonight.

“Do you think that he deserves it Y/n?” Jake played.

“I think that he’s been a good boy,” you said.

You were on one side of Danny and Jake on the other. The wand was at a medium speed as you stroked it up and down his cock. Jake held his hand out just below your mouth, “Spit.”

He dipped his slick fingers to Danny’s hole. He slowly inserted a finger. Danny’s mouth hung open in pleasure. “More, please sir,” Danny begged.

Jake inserted another digit. He began fucking into him with his fingers at a brutal pace.

Jake looked at you and you shook your head ‘yes’.

“Cum for us Danny,” Jake instructed.

Relief washed over Danny. “Oh fuck, fuck,” Danny cried out. His cock twitched and his release coated his stomach. His whole body shook and tugged at the ties. He squeezed around Jake’s fingers.

Jake gently pulled out of him. He leaned up, gesturing for you to do the same. “Clean this mess up,” Jake instructed you.

You and Jake licked up the cum that coated Danny’s stomach. Jake pulled you into a deep kiss. You tasted all three of you on Jake’s tongue.

You and Jake untied Danny, giving him a chance to reel in all in. He laid still, heavily breathing for a few moments. Jake let his other side show briefly, “What did you think of that? Are you okay?”

“That was amazing. I’m better than okay,” Danny said happily.

As soon as he heard that Danny was comfortable with everything and wanted more, his entire demeanor changed back. Jake’s cock was impossibly hard and leaking. He always took care of you first and now Danny to get things started.

“Can we take care of you now Sir?” you practically begged Jake.

“You both have been so good for me. Do you think that either of you deserve my cock?” his voice slightly wavering.

Danny had come back down to earth now. His eyes filled with a new hunger. He sat up and took charge in a moment's notice. You knew that Jake would never give up full charge. He would still give you and Danny a taste.

Danny reached around Jake’s neck and pulled him down, swapping places with him. You saw Jake’s eyes light up at the sudden roughness. His hair cascaded around him and a coat of sweat on his forehead.

You threw your legs over his body and sunk down onto him. He sucked in a deep breath between his teeth at the sudden contact that he had been deprived of. You were in the reverse position so that you had a perfect view of Danny.

You held out your own hand and spit into it, bringing it down to Danny’s cock stroking him a few times. He slowly slid into Jake’s hole, stretching him carefully. You felt his cock twitch inside of you. Jake let out a faint whimper as you began to ride him.

Danny wrapped one calloused hand around your throat as he set his pace in and out of Jake. Sweat and slick coated your bodies, sex filled the room. Danny’s tongue danced around yours. All of your tastes melded together.

You flipped around so you would have a view of them both. Jake’s eyes streamed with tears from the overstimulation. You leaned down to the shell of his ear, “Are we making you feel good Sir?”

His fingers dug into your thighs, bruising your sensitive skin. His moans were louder than you had ever heard them. He was overpowered by the pleasure. He mumbled incoherently in response. “No baby, I want to hear how good we’re making you feel,” Danny spoke up. His own hips faltering in pace.

Your muscles burned and ached as you slammed down onto Jake. Danny grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up to meet his torso. “I think he wants to cum. Hm, not until you make a mess for us first. Can you do that baby? Make a mess of our cocks?” Danny begged you.

Jake began rubbing circles around your clit, begging you to cum. You only took a moment to fall apart onto them both. You squeezed around Jake’s cock and cried out. You felt the white hot release gush from you as you went over the edge. Jake pumped into you, Danny into him. Both of their bodies shaking and their moans filling the room.

All of your bodies limp and weak as you slid off of Jake and Danny out of him. Each of you out of breath and filled with a buzzing euphoria. You felt that you may never come down from this high.

“That was - ,” Danny sucked in a deep breath, “Holy fuck.” Was all that he could manage.

“I would have to agree,” you chuckled.

“Thank you,” Danny continued.

“For what?” Jake asked.

“Everything. Thank you for trusting me with this, everything about tonight was amazing,” Danny said.

You could hardly hold your eyes open. You saw them both beginning to drift off.

The three of you made your way to your bedroom for the night. Your legs weak and wobbly, faces glowing, blissful, and exhausted. Danny picked you up and gently placed you on the center of the bed. He and Jake then slotted in on either side of you. The moment your bodies tangled together under the covers you reeled it all in. You took the time to breath each other in and think about what today had meant for your relationship.

You and Jake shared a special look. It was a relief to both you and Jake now that you had given yourselves completely over to Danny. You felt at peace that he had accepted you both. Today had been far better than you could have expected. You each saw one another in a new light. Tonight had changed the entire course of your relationship.

You each whispered a soft, “I love you.” to one another.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but that was the best sleep you had ever had. You woke up the next morning fully rested, your body still a bit sore from the previous night's activities. The light casting over your room showing you that it was at least lunchtime by now. You rolled over to find yourself alone. The house felt oddly still and quiet. As you crept your way through the hallways you could now smell breakfast cooking and hear the sound of faint slow music. You peeked into the kitchen to see breakfast fully cooked on the counter. You almost spoke up, but quickly stopped yourself when something caught your eye. Jake and Danny slow dancing in only their boxers through the kitchen. This was a sight you could easily get used to. It was like they were the only people in the world. Completely focused on each other. They were softly giggling and whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ear. You could feel the emotion dripping from them. The power that they held over each other and you.

The tour was scheduled to start back up next week. You were going to miss the domesticated life you had created, but you knew this meant there was far more in store to come.

To be continued✨

[builtbykittie]

Electrified

S.F.K x f!reader

Summary: Escaping an uncomfortable situation at a party, you frantically look for your best friend, just to find he was also searching for you.

Warnings: 18+ per usual, alcohol consumption, SMUT, semi public sex, unprotected sex (y'all know better), this is literally just porn... nothing too crazy.

Words: nearly 4.5k

A/N: Ugh another Sam friends to lovers? Yes. This is a Taylor Swift inspired fic🥰. Every time I hear this song, I think of Sammy (despite the fact he hates pop music) So I finally wrote about it, enjoy! (Disclaimer I literally didn't edit this much at all & I'm so sorry)

.

"Who are you trying to impress," Sam's eyes trace the shape of your body before looking back to the road. "Nobody," you fix the length of your dress in the passenger seat. "Why? You worried someone might try to take me home?" you smirk.

"Pfft, no," he rolls his eyes, thumbs drumming to the beat of the rock song piercing through your ears. "Then why do you care," you bicker with him as if you're siblings, trying to get each other as annoyed and worked up as possible.

The truth is, you couldn't care less if anyone else saw you. You only wanted Sam to see you, for some stupid reason. Sam is your best friend, and has been for years, so why would you even try to impress him? For the same reason everybody else tries to impress their person of choice, of course.

"Oh thank god. I'm saved!" Sam snickers as he pulls into his brother's crowded driveway. You giggle and roll your eyes "Sam you know I don't like parties, you're gonna have to deal with me eventually tonight."

"Yeah, well, I'm saved for now," he playfully grabs your knee and gives it a shake before pulling his seatbelt away from his body. "Oh shut up, you know you would gladly argue with me for hours," you unbuckle your own seatbelt, pushing the door open with your heel.

Sam helps you down from the passenger's seat, his large hand hovering over the small of your back, then gently grabbing your waist as you slip out of the seat until your heels touch the ground. "You got me," he grins. It's simple touches like these that keep you on your toes, a wave of electricity flowing through your body every. single. time.

You look around at the countless cars lined up in front of Josh's house, starting to grow anxious. "I'll be in there the whole time. If anything happens, just find me," Sam pats your back and gestures for you to follow him into his brother's house.

All you really want is to stay in and watch movies, but Sam wouldn't dare to miss his big brother's party, and you don't blame him.

Sam parts ways with you within just minutes of being in the house, instantly going to mingle with any person who catches his attention. You grow a little jealous, not just of the other people getting his attention but also of his social skills. You wish you could make conversation with people as effortlessly as he could, but instead, you hunt for any person you're relatively close with.

"Y/N!" You hear your name being called by a voice you could recognize from miles away. "Jake?" You locate him in just seconds, walking over and pulling him into a side hug. "You here with Sam?" Jake looks around for any sight of his younger brother.

"Yeah. He left me as soon as we got through the door," you smile, swinging your arm through the air as if to swat away a pesky fly. "Yeah.. Sam's an asshole," he laughs, but he can't seem to mask the look of concern playing on his features.

The unbearable sounds of Sam shouting with others only seem to make you more upset. You should be happy that your best friend can have fun and be himself, but it all just gets caught up in a fit of jealousy. "You don't need to worry about me. Do you know where Josh is?" You look around, having not seen Josh once at his own party.

"Hm, downstairs maybe. You know how Josh is, he's just trying to converse with everyone," you nod your head, giggling as you picture his adorable self going around to every single person here and making them feel welcome.

"Well, I'm gonna go look for him. I'll see you later," you wave, squeezing through and dodging everyone till you reach the stairs. There he is, his slim figure facing away from you as he talks to someone at the bottom of the stairs. You wait there only for a few seconds until Josh discovers you himself, swiftly making his way up the stairs "Y/N! When did you get here? Where's Sam?"

"There he is! We didn't show up too long ago. And Sam's gotta be around here somewhere." Josh pulls you into an embrace, stepping back and complimenting your dress. "Thanks, Sam didn't like it," you giggle "I gotta say, you always have the best parties. You truly are a man of many talents."

You and Josh are rudely interrupted by a woman's voice shouting your name, followed by a cold hand wrapping around your arm. Your brows furrow, giving Josh a puzzled look before turning around to meet eyes with a girl you knew, but not well enough.

She's obviously wasted, her eyes bloodshot, her skin a deep shade of crimson, not to mention the fact you can hardly understand her "I haven't seen you in forever!" You avoid any physical contact, lest she spills her drink on your brand new dress you'd spent all afternoon staring at yourself in. "Hey, Jen. Been a while, huh?" There's no doubt in your mind that this conversation would be 100% less painful if you had something in your system, but you were completely sober.

"Let me get you a drink," she pats your shoulder and gestures toward the counter that is littered with countless alcohol bottles, empty and full. It's as if she read your mind. You let out a sigh of relief, turning back to Josh but he's not there, and now you're surrounded by people you'd rather not be around.

Normally you wouldn't take a drink made by someone else, but these are Josh's friends, and Jen was 100% a girls girl. "Thank you," you take the drink from her hand, awkwardly sipping off the red solo cup filled with what tastes like a mix of vodka and cherry juice.

"We're playing games in the living room, you should come join," Jen grabs you, pulling you in the direction of the living room before you can even say anything.

"Oh no, I'm so bad at games, I'll just embarrass myself," you whine, but letting her drag you into the room of people nonetheless. "Not skill games, silly!" She points at everyone sitting in a circle, familiar faces looking up and insisting you to sit. It all feels so childish, like a bunch of high schoolers that got ahold of their parent's alcohol, playing games to get a rise out of each other.

You find Jake in the circle as well, a defeated smile on his face as he shrugs in your direction. "Fine," everyone cheers, scooting over to make room for you and the dark-haired girl next to you. Jake is sitting straight across from you, his sweet brown eyes calming you down and silently telling you to relax, to have fun.

You're not sure when, but at some point, the questions being asked have taken a sharp turn from being embarrassing yet harmless, to being strictly about the sex lives of everyone in the circle.

All color drains from your face as the bottle slows down, pointing straight at you. You already know the question is gonna be about you and Sam, it always is.

"Have you hooked up with Sammy yet? What's he like in bed?"

"I haven't... which is a surprise considering he'll take any girl home," you fail to hide the venom and jealousy that has laced your voice, everyone giggling and "ooh" ing like little children. "Just spin the damn bottle. I don't wanna hear about Sam's sex life anymore," Jake saves you from any more invasive questions, sending a wink in your direction.

You sit miserably through a couple more rounds and a few more drinks, the constant discussion of sex reminding you that you haven't gotten off in a while. You've been so busy for the past few days, you'd completely forgotten how long you've gone without a good orgasm.

Wetness in your panties becomes evident to you as you adjust your position. For every minute you sit there, the anticipation grows, your heart pounding and your hands trembling as you absent-mindedly search for Sam every other second. Your mind sifts through every possible affair, unsure of how to fix your problem. Do you relieve yourself in Josh's bathroom? Look for someone to go home with?

Finally, you stand up, your legs beginning to carry you away from the circle before your brain can even make a decision. "Excuse me," you ignore everyone's stares and questions, moving through the house as if you're on autopilot mode.

You still don't know where you're going, but when you find yourself subconsciously searching for Sam's face, it becomes apparent what you truly want. Now you're frantic, plowing through people and shamelessly calling his name. You're in a daze as you search every corner of Josh's house, not paying any care to how beside yourself you may look or how desperate you may sound to lingering guests.

Turning the corner to yet another crowded room, you run into someone's chest, exhilaration coursing through your veins and what's left of your inhibitions melting away as you realize it's Sam.

"Sam! I was looking everywhere for you!" you basically throw yourself onto him, smoothing your palms over his chest. "I was looking for you," his tone is sexy, hypnotizing sultry brown eyes stare into yours. You don't know if it's just the drinks, but there's a specific energy radiating off of Sam's warm body. If you stand there for long enough, breathing him in, you're sure that it will get you high.

An overwhelming feeling takes complete control over you, lifting yourself slightly to whisper in his ear "I need you, Sam." You shock yourself, unsure where your sudden bluntness came from.

You watch Sam's eyes widen and feel his chest rise and fall underneath your hands, his body growing unbelievably hot.

Sam's breath significantly picks up as you cup his face, rubbing your thumb across the warm surface. You back him into a dark part of the room, starting to press kisses against his neck.

He looks around in a panic, but luckily no one is looking "Y/N, we're leaving. Now." His lanky fingers wrap around your wrist, and he begins to pull you through the house, nearly running.

You both are far too turned on to say goodbye to anyone or pay attention to comments people make as you pass by. But to your misfortune, Josh stops you.

"Hey! Are you two leaving already?" Josh quirks an eyebrow as he notices something on Sam's neck, a smirk playing on his lips after connecting the dots. "Uh, yeah," Sam searches for an excuse "You know how she is with parties." Sam lifts your arm as you awkwardly smile beside him.

"Okay, well, it was really nice to see you. Enjoy yourselves," Josh doesn't pull you in for a hug like he normally would, instead just sending you on your way. His smug tone and grin would normally send you into a panic, but right now you couldn't care less about anything other than Sam.

You hope to make a beeline straight out the door, but you're stopped by yet another Kiszka brother and Daniel by his side.

"There you are. Leaving?" Jake's eyes flick down to the same spot Josh noticed, now you're curious. Sam nods "She's not feeling great and I'm her ride." Jake snickers and taps Danny with his elbow, a crooked smile growing on his face "I'm sure you are."

"Oh fuck off. Are you gonna let us leave?" Sam doesn't even try to act calm, the more you stand the more the anticipation builds. "You can't stay just a little longer?" Danny smirks, Jake bringing his hands up to rest on his hips.

"No," now you're incredibly impatient and unable to stand still as your arousal soaks your panties "I really don't feel good." "Awh... Well.. you heard the girl," Jake laughs through his words, sending a jab to Danny's side with his elbow. Danny slings his arm over Jake's shoulder as they begin to take steps backward "see ya!"

"Fuck. Finally," Sam breathes, and you look over to him, your lipstick painted all over his neck. "Sam," you whisper, but he's too distracted to hear it, or anything anyone is saying. Suddenly, the room erupts with hollers as Sam shoves you through the door.

"Sam, they all know," you whine, reaching a hand up to massage his scalp as he pulls you into his side. "Good," he pulls his keys from his pocket, unlocking the car and practically running to it. Sam walks around to the driver's side, and that's when you realize you can't wait any longer.

"Sam," you drop your head, fully aware of how desperate you've become. "What baby?" He opens the door, a smug grin pulling on his cheeks. "Sam I- I can't... I need you."

"I thought you'd say that," he snickers, slamming the door shut and pulling the door to the back seat open. You waste no time sending the door flying open and crawling in, locking the door behind you.

Your lips instantly find his, your teeth clashing into each other's as you smash your lips together. "What were you thinking?" Sam sucks in a breath as he backs you toward the door and hovers over you. Before you can respond he starts again "I mean seriously. Wearing this tiny fucking dress. Kissing me in front of those people. Getting me all worked up."

A whiney moan escapes your mouth as he lifts the hem of your dress, his cold fingertips grazing the skin of your upper thigh. "I knew you'd like it," you confess in a moan, lifting your hands and tangling them in his hair, pulling him into you.

Suddenly, he violently pulls the silk black fabric above your head. Your words obviously sparked a fire in him, a vicious one nobody could put out. Sam's fingers rake over your thighs then up to your unclothed breasts, groaning at the sight "You knew full well what you were doing dressed like this."

Sam takes your nipple in his mouth before releasing it with a pop and sucking a bruise to the swell of your breast. "So what if I did, Sammy?" You moan, arching your back into him. You reach down and cup his bulge, palming him as a devilish grin grows on your face.

"Then I'll just have to fuck you until you can't see straight." With that, he begins to trail kisses down your breasts to your navel, his finger drawing lines across your skin so close to where you desperately need his touch.

"Sam, please," you whine, back arching up into his touch as he kisses along the band of your panties. Your pleads are met with a sick laughter against your tummy "you're so needy, you know that?"

You couldn't roll your eyes back further in your head, trying your very hardest to not reach down and pull your panties off yourself. "You can't act like you don't need it just as bad, Sam. I know how bad you want to fuck me," you moan, knowing it'd set off something in him.

You were right, because without warning he swiftly pulls the tiny piece of lace fabric down your legs, leaving you completely naked. "Jesus, you're eager, huh?" Sam hums and brings his lips to your tummy, sucking the skin into his mouth before lapping at the raw skin with his tongue.

"You just can't admit it huh Sammy? You can't admit that I'm right?" You try to get him as worked up as you possibly can, your body rolling into his touch. "Wow. You're right, Y/N. I'm just dying to feel you," he rolls his eyes dramatically, but he's far from lying.

Slowly and painfully, Sam makes a line of kisses down from your navel to the very top of your heat. "Please.." is all you can muster up and your eyes clamp shut in anticipation, just waiting for him to do something, anything.

"Now you're being nice? What happened to the bratty girl who was here just a second ago?" Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his hot breath against your core. "Sam, stop. Plea-" you're unable to finish your sentence when he suddenly points his tongue, dragging it through your arousal drenched folds.

You suck in a choked gasp, involuntarily pushing yourself against Sam's face, earning a hum against your heat. The vibration sends a shock through your body, your hands mindlessly flying to his hair "oh Sam..."

His tongue quickly warmed up to you, it was as if he already knew your body. Without warning, Sam shoves a finger in you, hitting a sweet spot as he does so. "Sam.. I can- I'm almost-" you're interrupted by your own moan as he pushes another finger in, instantly curling up.

Sam lifts his head to look you in the eye, stopping his movement causing you to whine at the loss of contact "can you do one more?" You're a bit taken back by the question "I- I don't know... Nobody's ever..."

"I know you can," he presses a peck to your clit and slowly slides in a third, stretching you out in a way you've never experienced before. "Oh- oh my god.. Sam,"

"Good girl... You're so tight around my fingers, baby. Are you close?" All you can muster up is a weak nod and a hum, pushing yourself down onto his fingers further. You find yourself holding your breath, a moan ripping through your chest as he presses the flat of his tongue against your clit.

You take the opportunity to grind against his tongue, your hips beginning to shake and your thighs burn when you feel your orgasm approach. Your movements significantly quicken, relentlessly grinding and pushing yourself against Sam's tongue as he viciously rams his fingers into you.

Within a matter of seconds, the burning pleasure flows through your entire body, your eyes shut so tightly you might need to pry them open as you mutter his name over and over.

"Fuck, Y/N," Sam breathlessly snickers, slowly pulling his fingers from you and rubbing the slick all around your core. He returns to hover over you, bringing his face down to your ear "you know... A couple girls tried to take me home.. but I was looking for you, Y/N."

Your eyes widen in confusion and you nod your head, silently telling him to continue. "I couldn't stop thinking about you.. that dress.. your body. I needed you. Only you," he takes the shell of your ear in between his teeth, gently biting down.

The confession sends a shiver down your spine and your mouth falls open once he finds a sensitive spot behind your ear. You reach up and push his head against your neck, you can basically hear your heartbeat in your ears as he continues to nip at and place open mouth kisses to your neck.

"I thought you didn't like the dress," you smirk, your other arm reaches down, desperately trying to find what you need so bad. "So greedy... you're not satisfied with just these?" Sam teases, dragging his fingers through your heat.

"Sam, stop," you moan, your body jolting at the touch. Another wicked snicker leaves his lips as he presses his clothed bulge to your core "that attitude isn't gonna get you anywhere, doll. Ask nicely."

As much as you hate it, you're ready to accept defeat. "Please, Sam. I need you. Please... give it to me," you whine, grinding up against his bulge. An animalistic groan bubbles up from from his chest as he props himself up with one hand, the other fumbling with his button.

"Need help with that?" You giggle, watching as he fails to swiftly undo his jeans. You don't let him respond, his head dips down to rest in the crook of your neck as you reach to finish the task yourself.

Within just seconds you get his button undone and his zipper down, pushing them to his knees and instantly cupping his erection. Suddenly, you start to process just exactly what is happening.

He lifts his head and you look into his gorgeous brown eyes, yours widening as you take in every feature of his face lit by the moonlight. "What is it baby? You nervous?" He smiles at you, his hands running down your body, squeezing painfully at your thighs.

"Well I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, Sammy," you confess, and his face softens, the devious smile that played on his lips visually turning into a fond grin.

"Oh, Y/N. There's no need to be nervous, I promise," he brings his head back down to softly kiss your lips, but you had something else in mind. You take the opportunity to palm him through his boxers, eliciting a desperate groan from him. You can tell he's been holding back, and it's painful.

You bite his lip as he pulls back, every ounce of doubt or anxiety draining from your body. "Tell me, pretty," he pushes his boxers past his hips, his unbelievably hard cock springing free. "You knew I'd like that dress?"

If you're being honest, you completely forgot you had even said that, but it's obvious he'd been working himself into a frenzy over it. "Sammy.. I wore it for you," you drag your fingers over his body, his breath hitching in his throat as you draw a line down his length with your fingertip.

"I wore it because I thought.. I don't know.. it'd turn you on..." You trail off, looking away from him and suddenly hyper-aware of your naked body. "Well it worked, didn't it?" He giggles, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him "does this mean you've wanted to fuck me before tonight?"

"Well... I mean yeah," you reach down, grasping the base of his cock "are we just gonna lay here and have a conversation or do you want to fuck me, Sam?" A shocked look plays on his face which quickly morphs into a sinister smile "you're feisty."

You grasp the back of his neck, bringing him close to you and sucking on the skin behind his ear as you slowly stroke his cock. "God- damnit Y/N," Sam groans as he involuntarily fucks himself into your hand.

Just as he juts his hips to fuck himself into your hand, you move it, and push him down to be lined up with your dripping entrance. "Fuck me until I can't see straight, Sam," you whisper lowly into his ear, granting him permission to enter you.

"Oh fuck," he groans, your own noises mirroring his as he stretches you out so slow that the sting could become almost too much for you. You arm instinctively flies over his back, pushing him down closer to you "oh my god."

Within just a matter of seconds he begins to roll his hips, snapping them into the meat of your thigh and hitting a sweet spot just right. The moan that tumbles past your lips could disturb the entire first floor of the party still very alive and just feet away from you and Sam.

"Yeah you like that?" He punctuates his words with another sharp thrust, followed by a slow, languid thrust. "Mhm.." your eyebrows knit together, unable to form words as he keeps up this intoxicating pattern.

Your mind grows foggy, your only thoughts consisting strictly of Sam. "M- more," you whine and reach down to unbutton his shirt, desperate to feel his skin on yours.

"More? Are you sure you want that?" Sam struggles to form his own sentence as you clench and quiver around him. You nod your head frantically, pulling his chest down onto yours and arching your back up into him.

The slight change in position allowed Sam to go even deeper, the new leverage giving you everything you needed. "Oh Sam.. right there.. oh," you cry, clawing his back.

He feels too good

He hits an especially sensitive spot with a particularly rough thrust, a shocking wave of electricity flowing through your body. "Holy- holy shit..." you all but shriek, and you violently throw your head back, crashing into the door behind you.

"Woah- you okay?" Sam's movements never falter, keeping that same pattern. "Yes, Sam. Just keep- keep fucking me," you finally get the full sentence out after what feels like forever, and you know you're not going to last much longer.

You try to warn him, but your pathetic attempts to form words fail miserably. "Shit Y/N... you're so-" he interrupts himself with a guttural groan as his own orgasm to approaches.

Just as you requested and he promised, what was left of your vision completely fades away and you no longer fight to keep your eyes open.

Suddenly, fiery white pleasure viciously burns through your body and you're sure you've never felt anything like this before as you cry out his name over and over and over. "Shit. Shit shit shit," Sam's pleasure takes over his mind and you feel his hot release spurt inside you.

You're unsure just how much time has passed, but it's enough to bring you back down to earth. "Sam? You still with me?" You giggle, rubbing his back as you half expect him to be asleep.

"I'm here," he breathes, a wave of melancholy taking over your mind as you realize it's over. "I'm gonna pull out love, you ready?" All you can do is nod, clamping your eyes shut and preparing yourself. You bite back a whimper as he pulls from you, a mix of your juices dripping down your leg.

The last thing you'd expect is Sam going down and licking the mess up. A sharp, yet intoxicating feeling shocking your body as he licks through your folds and over you overstimulated clit.

"Think you could go another round?" You whisper, untangling his sweaty hair. His head shoots up to meet your eyes, a sinister grin playing over his features "go get in the front... We're going home."

.

.

.

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader, Sam Kiszka x f!Reader (oops)

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 13.5k+

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering: poor body image, body dysmorphia, mentions of a past eating disorder, an ill parent, (this will include descriptions of struggling to breathe due to illness & mentions of an oxygen mask) drinking, cussing, Jake is jealous? 18+ ONLY: some pretty heavy making out, (but it's not with who you think it is hehe), mentions of an erection, slight nudity, mentions of being turned on. (please let me know if i missed anything. there are a few heavy topics mentioned, & the last thing i want is for anyone to begin reading without a proper warning.)

a/n: i am so sorry this chapter took so long. i truly hope you love it & as always, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think! i love hearing from you guys. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & being my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d’Arthur Masterlist

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Your morning drives to school are your absolute favorite part of the day. They serve as your singular moment of complete peace to counteract the chaos that can be expected once the day truly gets started. The serenity of the morning air calms your spirit and prepares you for whatever the day may bring. 

You’ve managed to find an alternate route to campus, one that keeps you far away from the heavy morning traffic. It adds nearly twenty minutes to your journey, but the cost of waking a little earlier each day is worth the promise of a few spare moments of quiet solitude.

The new path you’ve found leads you straight to school, and the best part– it’s an image right out of a fairy-tale. 

Trees line the unpaved road, their leaves in early autumnal splendor. Hues of orange and red greet you in their forenoon charm, catching the rays of the waking sun as they glow in bright iridescence. 

This morning, there’s a light rain shower leaving tiny droplets on your windshield. The sun still dares to peek through the gray clouds, illuminating the glittering raindrops as they gently fall to the ground. 

You’ve yet to be met with another morning traveler since you discovered this road only days ago. It feels as though you’ve found some secret passageway— a hidden spot with no name, set aside just for you.

Pure tranquility washes over your body as your foot rests on the gas pedal. 

It’s the moments like these that remind you of the beauty that still exists around you— that no matter what downfall you suffer, the earth will always be there to offer you her tiny bits of wonder to keep your feet planted firmly against her soil.

Your Firebird putters into the university parking lot, amongst the slew of shining, new vehicles with hardly an imperfection to be seen on any of them. You used to be embarrassed of your old clunker, but as time goes on you’ve learned to be grateful for it and all the places it has taken you. 

Your new staff parking spot is awaiting you, of which you are entirely grateful. After your first day, you found that the parking lots fill up rather quickly with commuter students, so having a designated spot just for you everyday has saved you a lot of grief in the mornings. Yet another wonderful perk of being an employee of the university.

The smell of roasting espresso penetrates your senses as you waltz through the doors of the campus coffee shop. You and Natalia had agreed to meet this morning before your classes to study a bit for your course on influential women in literature.

Carmen, your favorite barista greets you as you walk up to the counter. Her sincere smile is always such a pleasant addition to your mornings.

She’s the most lovely vision; her loose curls always tied in a perfect ponytail, her bangs framing the contours of her face beautifully. Her black browline glasses sitting atop her freckled nose that push up past her eyebrows when she smiles, showcasing her sweet dimples.

You’ve made the coffee shop part of your morning routine everyday, so you’re not surprised when she knows your order without you having to say anything more than “Good morning, friend!”

“Large cold brew with oat milk and extra vanilla?” she asks, already writing it on the cup with a Sharpie. 

You smile broadly. “You’re amazing, Carmen!” You hand her a ten and a five, insisting that she keep the change. She fights you a bit but realizes she’s already lost the battle.

She hands you your drink and you thank her, telling her you’ll see her tomorrow at the same time.

You choose a table close to a window so as to have a view of the gloomy, morning sky. 

Watching the raindrops race each other to the bottom of the window seal, leaving their trail as the others merge to quickly join behind them— it gives you a sense of nostalgia that takes you back to a time when things were simply…easier. 

One thing about growing up in Oklahoma— it was always raining. And much to your mom’s discontent, you were sure to be found outside right in the middle of it. 

It probably explains why you were almost always sick as a child. Frequent head colds were the norm for you. It never stopped you, though. The rain brought forth a sense of clarity for you—feeling the cold drops hitting your face was the mental reset your mind needed, and it still is to this day.

You’d always been fascinated with weather— but specifically the rain. A poem you’d fawned over in your childhood spoke of rain carrying the ghosts of the past— a sentiment you’ve held onto dearly ever since. 

That very poem is the reason you love literature. It’s the reason you’re here, to study the thing that brings you the most comfort. 

Each time it rains, you’re flooded with lovely memories…memories of the ghosts that still linger from your youth.

This is the first rain shower you’ve experienced thus far in your new home; it feels as though the earth is trying to tell you it’ll all be just fine. She’s telling you that you do belong here, that you’re right where you need to be. 

“Daydreaming much?” Natalia pulls out the chair opposite of you, sitting her usual hazelnut latte down as she takes her seat.

“Guess you could say that,” you say through a smile. “I just adore the rain.”

You each pull out your laptops and Charlotte Brontë books, catching up on your weekends with one another.

“You’ll never believe what I agreed to on Friday,” you say.

She looks at you with a smirk splayed across her glossed lips, her rose colored cheeks still wet from having just walked through the rain. 

To your surprise, she asks, “Does it have anything to do with a little medieval film project?”

“How in the hell do you know about that?” 

“My brother,” she responds. “He’s helping Josh with it. Doing set designs, costuming— it’s quite impressive, honestly. Those costumes are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and I’ve done theatre my entire life.” She blows air on her coffee to cool it down a bit before taking a sip, wincing from the heat as she pulls the cup away from her lips. “I knew they were searching high and low for a Guiniverre— guess I should’ve known it’d be you.” Her long, butterfly lashes flutter with a wink as she giggles.

You’re not entirely sure what to make of her last statement. You just chose to ignore it.

“He said it’ll be killing two birds with one stone— that we’ll be helping out his brother for his film class, while also having something for our project in Movack’s class.” You pause to take a deep breath, “But I am no actress. And if it’s all truly that impressive, I may prove to be a bit of a disappointment.” Your hands fall into your lap as you stare down at yourself— your body comfortably covered with your usual oversized sweater and leggings, feeling a rush of insecurities as you imagine yourself being filmed. “I’m more of a behind-the-camera type of gal, anyways.” 

You’ve fought this inner battle for as long as you can fathom— your appearance is a topic you tend to avoid. You hide behind people for photos, or offer to be the one taking them to get out of being in it altogether.

Disordered eating had been a side effect of the severe dysmorphic thoughts. But thankfully, after years of receiving help, you’re finally in a stable place in your recovery.

The thing that still lingers, though; the harsh way in which you view yourself. Specifically, your appearance. 

“You said you’ve done theatre your whole life— why aren’t you playing Guiniverre?” you ask her. “I can’t imagine they haven’t thought of you.” 

Natalia is far more fitting for this film. She carries the beauty required to take on such a role; the beauty of a lust worthy queen. Just as well, she clearly has the experience you so greatly lack. 

She scoffs as she sets down her coffee and crosses her arms. “I was not about to kiss Sam. Nope. No way. That boy is a pain in my entire ass.”

Sam?… Kissing? 

This is the first you’ve heard of any of this. 

“Wait— what?” Your reaction seems to have caught her by surprise. Her eyes become wide and her lips part as she takes in your obvious confusion. 

“Jake…didn’t tell you about that? Did he tell you anything?” She leans in closer to you, a slight look of irritation present in her honey eyes. 

“He only gave me a vague synopsis— just about the infidelity in Arthur and Guinevere's marriage.” 

You suddenly come to a harsh realization that you hadn’t even thought about until now. 

Adultery and infidelity— forbidden romance. An entire film all about said romance, of which you are a main component. Of course there will be kissing in this film, perhaps even more. 

Your stomach drops at the prospect, and you're silently cursing Jake for leaving this little tidbit out.

Of course, it isn’t entirely his fault. You should’ve guessed when he told you the focus of the film.

You’ve already agreed, and backing out now would mean you’re back to square one with a project for Movacks class. 

All you can do now— beg to be anyone but Guiniverre. 

“First off,” you question, “who on earth is Sam?”

“Sammy? He’s their baby brother. He also takes classes here— well, when he decides to show up, that is. He lives with the twins.”

You pick up your coffee, taking a large gulp to keep the caffeine running through your system. “And why do I have to kiss him again?” 

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell you,” she says, huffing a laugh under her breath. “Josh has…plans.”

You cock an eyebrow at her, having a pretty good inclination about what these plans entail. You nod your head to let her know to continue.

“There will be a few…intimate scenes, between you and Sam. He’ll be playing the knight of romance and chivalry himself, our beloved Sir Lancelot.” She follows suit in taking a few swigs of her coffee now that it's cooled down a bit. “You and Sam will really get to know each other. And from what I’ve gathered about this film, the emphasis will be on Guin and Lance’s love. Arthur will have a different love interest— I think they’ve already casted her? Anyways, I doubt you and Jake will have many, if any, scenes together. At least no saucy ones. Which I’m sure you’re glad to hear.” 

You were not prepared in the slightest for intimacy. Intimacy in front of a camera— with someone you don’t know, all for the sake of someone you hardly know. Someone who’s been a massive dick to you, no less. 

But her last statement— about not having any special scenes with Jake. She’s right, mostly. It would be incredibly uncomfortable to have any scenes like that with him…right? 

But, if you're being fully honest, a small part of you is a bit…disappointed. 

You shove that thought down fast. “Uh, yeah. I’m more than thrilled to hear that. That would be awkward as fuck.” You’re doing your best to be sure she doesn’t see right through you. 

“But seriously, y/n. Those costumes…” She smiles widely, shaking her head back and forth. “ My brother did a great job finding those. They’re going to accentuate you in all the right ways.”

That is exactly what you’re afraid of. 

With your elbows on the table, you throw your face into your open palms with such force that you nearly knock your cold brew to the floor.

“Nat, I– I don’t think I can do this.”

She lightly takes your wrist in her hand, jolting you a little so you’ll lift your face. “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s just acting, love. It’s not that serious, I promise.” Her voice is so sweet and gentle, her eyes have softened and are full of quiet concern.

“I know it’s not that serious,” Out of instinct, you pull your sleeves over your hands and take your hair out from behind your ears, hiding yourself as best as you can. “I just don’t like…this,” Your hands motion to your body covered with the security of your baggy clothes. “I’ve never liked this. I mean, just how much will these costumes… accentuate me?” The thought of baring yourself even in the slightest has your stomach tumbling with somersaults. 

“Listen— I know Josh, and he will never let you do something you’re not comfortable with,” she assures, her honest smile making an appearance. “His mind is wide open and his soul is in all the right places. If there’s something you don’t like, just tell him and he’ll fix it.”

You’re racking your brain with the thought of his twin being as wonderful as she described. How could someone who shares the same DNA profile with Jake truly be that amazing?

“And stop worrying about the costumes. I can promise you, y/n, you will look sexy as hell.”

She’s doing her best to reassure you— though it’s not totally working, you act as though it is to change the subject and get started on your studies.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You frustratedly close the lid to your laptop after having nearly failed your quiz. You had set aside plenty of time this weekend to study, but with how distracted you are right now from your conversation with Natalia this morning, all the time in the world for studying wouldn’t have mattered.

And of course, it’s Movack’s class— the one you most want to excel in, the one you share with Jake. 

He closes his laptop only seconds after you. 

It’s not a fucking race, Jake.

Movack stated at the beginning of class that once you finish your quiz, you’re free to leave. You quickly pack up your things, trying to make a hasty escape before Jake to avoid any possible conversation with him. 

You’re halfway down the hall and as you’re about to turn the corner to safety, you hear, “Hey, y/n! I need to ask you something.”

Fucking hell.

You pause for a moment, dramatically rolling your eyes before you turn around to see Jake walking towards you.

He takes his sunglasses off and places them in the breast pocket of his shirt. He makes eye contact with you, a rarity for him, before he asks “Are you free on Saturday afternoon? Around 4:30?”

…what?

That is the very last thing you’d ever expect to come from his lips. 

His gaze has yet to break as he awaits your response. His deep set amber eyes are piercing right into yours. He has an almost desperate look about him— as if he’s anxious for you to reply.

Is he…asking you out? 

Your intuition tells you there’s no way, but…why else would he be asking you this?

Suddenly, your body begins to tingle. The butterflies in your tummy begin swarming. 

You don’t know what changed— perhaps agreeing to the film? Maybe he’s finally seeing you as more than a scholarly competition, maybe he’s finally seeing you. Whatever it may be, you’re not questioning it any longer. 

You’ve decided you’re completely infatuated with him, and getting to know him even better outside of this classroom sounds…wonderful.  

“Y-yeah! I don’t have anything going on. I’m totally free!” With a full toothed grin on display and perhaps a bit too much eagerness, you follow with, “Why? What did you have in mind?”

His brows then become furrowed, his slight look of desperation transforming into one that says he’s now… confused. 

“Um… okay,” His voice sounds unsure, his inflection coming off as more of a question than a statement. “I’m only asking because my brother wants to go over a read through of some of the script on Saturday…you know, for the film project.”

Oh. My. God. 

You’re mentally smacking yourself across the forehead. You want to crawl inside the deepest fucking hole on this planet and stay there with your shame. 

What is wrong with you? It’s as though you’ve completely forgotten you have a project to do with him— that that would be the only logical reason he’d ask if you were free. Obviously.

That’s why he looked desperate. Not because he wanted you to agree to some date— because he needs your help with this stupid fucking project you regretfully agreed to.

Your face (noticeably, you're sure) drops. You’re so humiliated at your response. No wonder he looked so damned confused. 

“Sure, yeah. I can do that.” You revert back to your initial irritated tone, refusing to look him in the eye now, hoping that he’ll somehow forget you were any other way. 

“He also needs you to try on the costumes, too. Make sure they’re the right size.”

The costumes. 

This couldn’t get any fucking worse. But you can’t turn him down now, given you were so quick to tell him you’re free on Saturday. 

You simply say “okay,” as you nod your head in agreement.

He takes out his notebook, writing down his address before ripping the sheet of paper out and handing it to you.

You tuck it away in your bag, bidding him a quick adieu before turning to walk far away from him.

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes. Not out of sadness, but out of mortification. Out of irritation.

Irritation with yourself, with him. And it’s not even his fault. You’re the one that jumped to ridiculous conclusions— jumped the highest you possibly could.

You feel utterly stupid. 

So fucking stupid.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Your mom looks at you in shock as you walk inside your apartment. Ridding yourself of your bags with a swift toss to the floor, you slump down next to her on the couch.

“What are you doing home so early? I thought you had class until later this afternoon,” she probed.

“Just a little tired,” you say. “Thought I’d give myself some time to rest before work.”

“This isn’t like you, y/n. What’s wrong, sweetie?”

She’s right— this isn’t like you. You normally wouldn’t even think of skipping class, your education being the most important thing to you. But, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it today.

“Kind of a long day, I guess. And I’m a little stressed out with my classes.”

She then turns the television off and glares at you with the eyes of a worried mother.

“Talk to me, y/n. I know there’s more.” 

You should know by now that you can’t hide anything from her. She knows you too damn well.

You can’t hold it back any longer as you begin to spill it all. 

“It’s… stupid Jake. I thought he was asking me out today, but he most definitely was not. And I made an idiot out of myself because I misunderstood and—”

She stops you mid sentence, “And who is Jake?” she questions. 

You haven’t told her a single thing about him, about your project, anything. It’s not that you were trying to hide it from her, you just really didn’t want to talk about it.  

With a heavy sigh, you say, “He’s my partner for this huge semester project in my King Arthur class. We’re doing an Arthurian film with his brother,” you put a palm to your face. Looking up at her with a sarcastic smile, you add. “Oh, and Jake is a major dick.”

“Do you like him?” she asks with a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

“Absolutely not!” you exclaim— rather loudly, at that. 

Even you don’t believe the words that came out of your mouth, so why would she?

She just chuckles at your response, knowing better than that but deciding to not ask you about it any further, switching the topic to your project. “Tell me about this film you're doing,” she says.

“You won’t believe this but, I’m actually acting in it.”

“You? Acting? Okay, who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” she jokes, forcing a smile out of you.  

“Just wait. It gets better,” you say. “I’m actually playing Guiniverre and Jake will be Arthur. It’s all about their adulterous marriage, and the focus will be on them cheating on each other. Quite romantic, huh?” 

She begins to laugh again, trying not to wear out her weak lungs, but it doesn’t work. She gets caught up in a huge coughing fit, struggling to catch her breath. 

This always happens; she can’t even laugh without her lungs giving her trouble. It shatters your heart. She’s always had the most contagious, obnoxious laugh. You miss the pure, unpunctured sound of it so much. 

You reach for her oxygen mask and gently place it over her mouth. “Just breathe, mom. It’s okay, I’m here. Just breathe for me, in and out…”

As much as it scares you whenever this happens, it scares her even more. The look in her eyes makes you want to cry. It’s a look that says “please make this stop.” 

You wish more than anything that you could.

It’s the moments like these that you want to curse your dad for leaving, for leaving his wife of almost twenty years like this.

She begins to calm down, her breathing slowing as she’s able to take full breaths again. 

“You okay?” you ask.

She moves your hand and lifts the mask from her face. “Just fine, sweetie. Sorry about that.” Her voice sounds so frail, like she’s just run a marathon. 

“Don’t apologize, Mom,” you lay a hand on your skinny thigh, squeezing reassuringly. “Please.”

She nods, then requests. “Tell me more.”

She doesn’t like to dwell on these things when they happen, so you start talking about the film and Jake some more. 

“He’s got a younger brother named Sam, who’ll be playing Lancelot. Apparently, there are a few scenes between him and I in the script that are a bit… sensual, you could say.” 

“Well, is he as cute as Jake?” she snickers.

“Mom! I never said Jake was cute.”

“Didn’t have to,” she says. “You think he is, I can tell.” Her grin says she can see right through you, and she’s not wrong. She never is. 

“I haven’t met his brother yet, so I have no idea.” 

You continue telling her more about the film, telling her about Natalia, but the conversation ends up taking a turn to being mostly (completely, actually) about Jake. 

“He’s just intimidated by you, y/n. That’s why he acts the way he does, so you don’t know his true feelings.”

You just shrug it off, knowing she’s obligated by blood to tell you that. She’s just trying to make you feel better.

“Just wait,” she says. “He’ll come around.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You look at your phone to check the time. 

3:45 am. Ugh. 

You’ve been in bed for hours desperately trying to sleep but your body just won’t relax.

You hated seeing your mom like that tonight. Watching her struggle to breathe… it's traumatizing every time it happens. And the episodes are becoming more and more frequent. 

You just want her to be healthy again. You want to be able to have a normal conversation with her without worrying about making her laugh. It’s tearing you down, watching her wither away like this. It’s not fair. 

You just wish there was more you could do. 

Along with the stress of that, you also keep hearing Jake's voice on a loop in your head; “I’m only asking because my brother wants to go over a read through some of the script on Saturday…you know, for the film project.”

“I’m only asking…”

It’s the way he said ‘only,’ as if to say ‘don’t get your hopes up, that’s not what this is.”

Him posing that question (before you knew the true intent behind it) made you realize that— as much as you wish you weren’t— you’re somehow on the cusp of having feelings for him. And your conversation with your mom made that fact even more abundantly clear. 

It’s most definitely not because of his winning personality. 

No; it’s much different than that.

He brings about an air of mystery everywhere he goes. Every step he takes adds yet another layer to your curiosity about him. 

And the way he acted when he asked you to be a part of his brother's film, how his face lit up in a whole new light. There’s a genuine man beneath his exterior— you can sense it. You just wish that were the Jake you’ve come face to face with nearly everyday since classes began a few weeks ago. That’s the side of him (if it is truly there and you’re not just making things up) that you want to discover.

He’s just… different. And you're annoyingly drawn to it. You're completely drawn to it. 

You’ve never met anyone like him— let alone anyone that looks like him. As much as you hate to admit it, he is the personification of the female gaze. And his ridiculous attire, complete with his open shirts that display his necklaces on top of his bare chest— and yes, even his sunglasses that you try (but fail) to hate— all make it incredibly difficult to not find him attractive. 

He’s beginning to consume your every thought, and you’re so mad at yourself for it. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Saturday.

You’ve spent the entire week dreading today, contemplating backing out more times than you can count. Jake has been increasingly rude to you since your encounter with him on Monday. He’s spoken one or two words to you throughout the course of the week, but that’s about it. 

Again, you're wondering why the hell you agreed to do him any favors. 

If it wasn’t for this fucking project in fucking Movack’s class…

Without the consistent convincing from Natalia, you would have backed out. No question about it.

“Just make it through Saturday, y/n,” she said. “And if you still feel this way, tell him you want to do something else for your project. He’ll have to understand.” 

You told her you’d do it, but only if she agreed to go with you. Thankfully, it didn’t take much convincing on your part and she happily accepted your terms.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You bring your fist up to knock and wait a moment; nothing. 

You feel as though you’ve given it ample time, so you knock yet again. 

Finally, the handle on the door twists and is opened by, of course, Jake. 

You embarrassingly stare a few seconds too long, not able to find words.

Unenthusiastically, he breaks the silence, “Welcome to our humble abode.”

He holds the door open as you and Natalia walk through the threshold together. Immediately upon seeing the place, you’re in a state of pure shock. 

You’re not sure what you expected of Jake's home, but a two story, industrial loft apartment— massive loft apartment— right in the heart of downtown Detroit, was most surely not the first thing on your list. Natalia told you it was nice, but you weren’t prepared for this. 

How do three college students manage to afford this? 

The ever plaguing mystery continues.

It’s like walking into a photoshoot for a prestigious interior design magazine. This place doesn’t even look real. 

Your eye is instantly caught by the decor. A tasteful mix of bohemian and modern rustic. The red brick walls lead to tall ceilings covered with exposed steel piping, adding so much unique character to the place. Trailing vines line the huge windows, casting the living room in an almost sage glow.

Jake ignores you, (shocker) as he heads into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. “Well that’s just great,” he says, taking out a can of Miller Lite and turning to face Natalia. “The least your brother could do is restock our beer when he takes the last one.” 

She just snickers in response. 

Suddenly a loud bang comes from a room up the long staircase, followed by a pair of animated giggles.

Jake turns his head slightly in the direction of the commotion, mumbling “fucking imbeciles” quietly to himself, but loud enough that you heard it.

“What the hell was that?” Natalia asks.

“Our moronic brothers,” Jake grumbles.

Then, a man with a set of wild, messy curls on top of his head jogs down the stairs, giggling while struggling to keep his footing. 

“What were you doing up there?” Jake demands. 

“Do you really want to know?” the curly haired one says, wiping his shiny lips with the sleeve of his shirt before smoothing down his disarrayed mustache. 

“Nope. Not one fucking bit,” Jake scoffs.

Jake then nods his head in your direction, letting him know that you and Natalia have arrived.

“Well hello, my dear Natalia!” he says, pulling her into a hug. 

Then, he catches your eye.

“Ah hah!” he shouts, giving you a long look. “You must be our queen! Lovely to meet you, m’lady,” He grabs your hand and kisses it before making a dramatic display of bowing before you. “If I may be so bold, the name is Josh. Sir Josh of the Frankenmuth, Michigan sector— at your service.” 

This is Josh? The other half of Jake? 

There’s no way. Sure, they have the same face. Well, besides the addition of a mustache and goatee to Joshs, but still. Clearly they’re identical, but so starkly different from one another.

You look over to Jake, noting a slight irritated look from him. Ignoring it, you meet Josh in a hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You throw a little extra emphasis on ‘so’, looking at Jake once more and picking up on his eye roll— even from behind his sunglasses. 

You’re remembering your first encounter with Jake—how it was so vastly different from right now as you’re meeting his twin for the first time.

You instantly felt welcomed with Josh, while with Jake, you felt like a major inconvenience. (And admittedly, you still do.)

How can they be so different, yet look the exact same? 

He’s even dressed like the perfect contrast of Jake.

Jake is clad in his usual monochromatic look—sunglasses, black button down and all. (How many of these fucking shirts does the man own, for godsake?) 

But Josh, on the other hand— he’s wearing a stark white sweatshirt and skin tight khaki pants, pulled together aesthetically with high top tennis shoes that mimic the brightness of his top. 

They are the personification of yin and yang standing before your very eyes.

“Would you like a drink?” Josh offers. “We have beer, wine—”

Jake interrupts him, yelling, “There’s no more beer!” as he takes a long sip out of his can.

“Okay then, no beer.” Josh chuckles. “Well we have water, of course. But that’s far too boring. I'd be happy to mix you one of my world-famous cocktails if you’d like.”

“Take it from me— if you don’t want to end up sloshed, do not let him make you a cocktail.” Another man makes his way down the stairs, stopping once he gets to Josh. He towers over him, being at least six inches taller. He’s awfully handsome, with the same kind, honey toned eyes that mimic those of your lovely friend standing beside you.

“My sweet, sweet Malachi. It’s okay to just admit that I make the most pristine drinks known to man.” Josh grabs his waist and tugs him close in an embrace.

“This would be my brother,” Natalia says.

“This is y/n?” He greets you with a hug, nearly lifting you off your feet. “It’s so great to meet you! You’re so kind to help with this.”

“I’m glad to help! I’m a huge Arthurian nerd, so this is right up my alley,” you say to him. “I just hope I can do Guinevere some justice. I’ve never really acted before.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be great!” Josh chimes, “If you’re ready, I’ve got one of your costumes set up in Jake's room. Last door, straight down at the very end of the hall.” 

Jake’s room?

“Okay! Sounds great. I’m really excited to see these. Nat told me they’re amazing,” you say, heading in the direction Josh told you his room is in. 

Josh watches you leave, holding his hands up in a makeshift camera. “Yep. You’re the perfect vision for our Guin. Very pretty,” He playfully nudges Jake with his elbow, “You were right, my brother.”

What does that mean?

Jake’s cheeks become encompassed in a pink hue as he chokes on the beer he’d just taken a sip of.

“Why thank you, Sir Joshua,” you say as you turn around towards him to curtesy.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You were nervous enough about being in his home, but his room? That is an entirely different story.

A person's room is the most personal, intimate space. The space that holds all their innermost secrets. Walking in feels like the ultimate intrusion.

Your stomach tightens as you turn the knob on his bedroom door.

Immediately, you're struck with the same scent he carries with him. 

His whole room smells like it— like him. 

You turn to shut the door behind you to have some privacy, catching a canvas portrait on the back depicting an iconic Edgar Allan Poe quote: “Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”

The room is dimly lit, with blackout curtains hanging over the windows—only a single lamp in the corner next to the bed illuminates the space. 

The walls are lined with medieval artwork. Depictions of Ophelia and The Lady of Shalott, with a few famous pieces by the great Edmund Blair Leighton that you’d recognize anywhere. And, of course, no medieval artwork collection is complete without the classic portrait of Morgan Le Fey. She’s illustrated in her quintessential colorful attire, looking as enchanting as ever. A favorite or yours.

Your curiosity is certainly piqued as you notice a few books sitting upon his bedside table. 

The Lord of the Rings series. A Tolkien fan— you’re not surprised in the least.

The Two Towers is splayed open to page 316 with the corners very gently dog eared. 

Next to the book lies an opened notebook donned with scribbled detailings of what he’d read. Little footnotes and observations, brief analyses of chapters.

A smile dares to creep across the corner of your mouth— finding it incredibly nerdy, yet all at once completely endearing that he places so much care in what he reads. 

You know next to nothing about this man, but one thing you do know— he loves literature. And you’d bet he loves it almost as much (if not slightly more) than you do. That truly says something. 

On top of the table on the opposite side of the bed sits a small record player, the record sitting under the stilled needle— Electric Ladyland by Jimi Hendrix. 

You skim a few other album titles placed on the shelf next to it, seeing the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Clapton, Janis Joplin; he’s a blues kind of guy. 

You grew up on that very same music, all thanks to your mom. She made sure you were well versed on music from a very young age. 

A dark red Gibson SG is perched on its stand right next to the table holding the record player. The scratches engraved on its body indicate heavy use— you can tell this thing is quite loved.

He’s… a guitarist? 

God. The mystery surrounding this man is never ending. There’s so much you don’t know, so much you wish you did know.  

Feeling as though you’ve explored far too much of his room, you decide to focus your attention on the garment bag laid out across the black velvet duvet across Jake’s bed.

You unzip it, your nerves exuding through your shaky hands at whatever you’ll discover inside.

You lift the dress out of the bag high above your head as the length reaches clear to the floor. 

Holy shit.

When Natalia told you these costumes were amazing, she was understating to the highest degree. 

Golden hand sewn lace embroiders the deep burgundy corset bodice. The square neckline is garnished with gold and red gems in the most intricate pattern, with the same jeweled design present on the cuffs of the long sleeves. The skirt, the same shade as the bodice, is silken and heavy and adorned with a similar gold design cascading all the way down to the hem.

Truly fit for a queen.

You can’t help but wonder where they possibly found this. It’s the most gorgeous gown you’ve ever seen— and you get to wear it. 

Undressing yourself in Jake's room feels…strange. You feel vulnerable and exposed, but the butterflies in your belly are swarming at the thought— the thought of being only in your bra and panties in Jake’s bedroom.

Taking another look at the corset, you quickly learn that a bra is simply not an option for this dress. You remove it, feeling particularly risqué now being half nude in his room.

You lay the dress on the floor and step into the skirt one foot at time, lifting it up and carefully putting your arms through the sleeves. 

You try tightening the laces of the corset, but without being able to see, it’s proving to be rather difficult. You know there’s not a chance you can get this situated yourself. 

You decide to text Natalia to come help you, but as you go to look for your phone, you remember you left it sitting on the coffee table in the living room. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. 

You open the door and marginally peak your head out, calling for her to come lend you a hand with the dress. 

“Sorry— should’ve warned you about that,” you hear Josh yell from across the apartment. 

“You rang?” Natalia jokes as she makes her way down the hallway to you. 

“This is fucking impossible to get on,” you huff, closing the door as she walks in the room. 

She chuckles as she shoves your hands out of the way to take over tying the corset. “You’ve really got yourself in quite the mess here.”

She sinches it as tight as it will go, forcing the breath out of your lungs in one final tug of the laces. 

“Jesus, Nat!”

“Oh you’re fine. God, you literature people are so dramatic.” 

“You’re one of us too, you know,” you quip back.

She secures the ribbon tightly with a bow before she says, “I think you’re in. Turn around, let's see what we’re working with.”

You run your hands down your torso and up to your chest, feeling the constriction present against your breasts as you turn your body to face her.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n. That’s what you’ve been hiding under those giant ass sweaters?” she marvels with arched eyebrows and wide unblinking eyes. 

You haven't seen yourself yet, and judging by how snug the top of this dress is hugging you, you’re not exactly sure you’re ready to.

Pointing to the mirror leaned against the wall, she tells you, “Get your ass over there, you have got to see this.”

Years of body dysmorphia have set you up to hate everything you put on if it isn’t something that hides you. Tight fitting garments are your worst nightmare. You feel safe in things that conceal your figure, and being in something that doesn’t do that is forcing you to come face to face with the thing that terrifies you the most. 

With a reluctant sigh, you slowly walk over to the large wooden oval floor mirror standing next to the matching dresser. 

The first thing you notice upon lifting your eyes to meet your reflection— your breasts. From feeling them moments ago, you knew they were on full display, but you didn’t realize they’d be this exposed. One slightly questionable movement, and it’s all over.

The sleeves sit off your shoulders, leaving them exposed with the rest of your chest. 

Your eyes trail down to your waist that is being held tightly by the corset, your figure finally being exposed. 

“O-oh god…” you quietly stammer. “I look…”

“Insanely hot.” Natalia interrupts. 

“…I look fucking ridiculous.” 

“What the hell are you talking about, y/n?” she demands.

“This isn’t flattering…not in the slightest.” You bring your arms up to fold them over your chest. You can’t hide as easily as you would like to in this get up— and the thought of being filmed in this has your stomach in a nauseous hold. 

She walks closer to you and gently brushes your arms, motioning for you to put them down— to stop hiding.“You’ve got to be kidding me, y/n. This dress was made for you.” She adjusts your right sleeve a bit, smoothing down a few wrinkles. With a tender voice, she asks, “What could you possibly not like about this?”

“I’m not you, Nat. I can’t pull this off like you could.” 

“Do not start that shit with me, girl.” She sounds more stern this time. “Just because you don’t look like me, does not mean you aren’t fucking beautiful. If I have to spend all night convincing you that you’re gorgeous, I will.” 

Natalia is the kind of person you’ve needed in your life, your whole life. She just gets you, and she always has the right thing to say at any given moment. 

Not wanting to make this moment any more about yourself than you already have, you simply say, “Thank you, Nat.” 

You reach for a hug and she pulls you in, saying “You’re welcome. Now, get yourself out there. I can’t wait to see the look on these boys’ faces.”

Just in time, a knock sounds against the bedroom door. “Uh ladies? Time is of the essence!” Josh jokingly yells from the hallway, snapping being heard through the wall. 

You’re standing completely still, fear keeping you frozen on your feet. She notices and motions for you to move. 

“You first,” you tell her.

She playfully rolls her eyes and agrees. Opening the door, she says, “Let’s go, your highness. Your kingdom awaits your arrival.” 

You follow her down the hallway, hiking the skirt of your dress up as it’s far too long for you. You're so anxious to let Jake (and the other guys— but mostly Jake) see you like this. Petrified, really.

You’re afraid of his reaction, that it won’t be what you want it to be— that he’ll act disgusted. 

But all the same, you want him to see. Maybe this will change his mind. Maybe he’ll think you look as good as Natalia says. 

You can only hope, anyways.

Natalia pulls out all the dramatic stops to introduce you. “Gentlemen, I present to you, your queen.”  

She stands to the side as you walk forward into the living room. Josh is sitting on the couch next to Malachi, both of them with large smiles across their faces at the sight of you. They each fawn over you, telling you how immaculate you look. Josh praises Malachi over and over for managing to get them the perfect gown, “The sizing is impeccable!” he tells him. Then he winks at Natalia. “Thanks for getting her sizes for us, Natty!”

You hear them, but you’re hardly paying them any attention as you’re stuck scanning the room for Jake, but to no avail. He’s nowhere to be seen. To say the very least, you’re full of disappointment. 

“Well, fuck me,” you hear a voice say, one that you’re not quite so familiar with.

You snap your head in the direction of the voice to see a man— who looks a little like Jake?— leaning up against the floor to ceiling window in the dining room. 

“Seriously, Sam?” Natalia snaps, “Where the hell are you manners?”

Sam— the Sam. The one you’ll be sharing the screen with the most.

It makes sense why he’d be chosen to play ever-romantic Lancelot. He’s a major flirt, quite fitting for the role. And— he’s fucking beautiful. Something you were not anticipating. (And something you hadn’t even thought about, with your mind being so overloaded with thoughts of Jake.)

While he doesn’t share the same similarities with Jake as Josh does, (they’re twins, so, obviously) you most definitely can’t deny the fact that they’re brothers.

Sam is a bit taller than the twins, his body shaped completely differently to accommodate his longer frame. His facial hair is quite similar to Joshs’, with his hair more the likes of Jakes'. 

“Sorry, I can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl,” Sam blurts. “You sure you’re at the right place? Seems you should be galavanting in Hollywood looking like that.” 

A heat rises to your cheeks at his compliment. You’re sure your face is nearly the color of the gown you’re in. He’s awfully bold— and you kind of like it. 

His eyes stay fixed on you as he begins walking in your direction.

“I take it you’re y/n?” he asks, taking your hand and giving your knuckles a quick peck. “I’d say Jake made a good choice for our queen.” He looks into your eyes as he gives the back of your hand yet another kiss— this one a bit more involved. 

You smile at the feeling of his mustache ticking your hand as he grins against the skin. “Thank you, Sam. I’m quite flattered,” you say, still giggling like a fucking school girl with a brand new crush.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Nat quips with a stark roll of her eyes. 

“This…THIS!” Josh shouts as he stands from the couch, trotting over to you and Sam. “The exact chemistry I was hoping for. You two just naturally have it— you exude it.” He grabs you both by the shoulders and pulls you both into a three-way embrace. “Sam, go put on your costume. We should run through a quick scene. I just have to see how this will play out.” 

Josh is so giddy about it all that he plants a wet kiss to your cheek, saying with a sincere smile, “You really do look wonderful, you know.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ 

Josh led you all down a little pathway behind their apartment building that leads to a shrine of towering beautiful, old trees. The sun just barely breaks through the colorful leaves on their full branches, illuminating the mossy ground in a soft and subtle golden glow. 

His vision for this particular scene with Lancelot and Guinevere is to take place in a forest setting, a “secret hiding place tucked away in the depths of nature's wonder,” as he put it.  

You look around in awe; it’s though you’ve walked through the pages of an old story book. An enchanted forest, right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the busy city. You would have never guessed this was hiding here. The perfect spot for a film– more importantly, it’s the perfect spot for lovers to enjoy their inconspicuous love affair. 

“The lighting right now is unmatched,” Josh exclaims, taking note of the time so he knows when to come out when you’re ready to actually start filming. It’s just after 5:30, and with autumn nearly in full swing, it’s right at the beginning of golden hour. With the way the trees are shading the sun, it makes for the most beautiful, soft scene— almost lucent. 

It reminds you so much of the serene road you’ve found for your morning treks to school each day. You feel the same way here as you do on that secret road; this will surely be a new favorite place of yours. 

You’ve got the script in your hands, skimming through the scene Josh has highlighted for you. 

Guinevere is sending Lancelot off to a jousting match, giving him her red scarf in secret to tie around his arm as a token. He must wear it during the game for good luck, and he’s meant to return it to her once he wins. A common medieval practice amongst lovers. 

It ends with her wrapping her arms around him, enveloping him in a “deep, heated kiss to bid a farewell,” according to the script. 

Oh god.

You read ahead a little. Apparently, this will be what gives their little love affair away. Arthur will recognize the scarf around Lancelot's arm as his wife’s, and the rest will be left to history. Angsty– wonderfully so. 

“Right here,” Josh says. “This is perfect.” 

He positions you and Sam in a spot that’s right in the middle of a circle of trees. 

Sam's skin is glowing beautifully in this light, his dark eyes now several shades lighter as the sun catches them just right. 

You can’t help but stare at him. He’s just so handsome, and he looks particularly regal in his costume. A white velvet, high collar top with white pants that are hugging him in all the right places, and a deep red cape draped over his broad shoulders— the same shade as your dress. 

Is it historically accurate? Absolutely not. But it is most definitely serving its purpose of making him appealing to the eye, or making him lust worthy— which is exactly what Malachi was going for when he chose this get up. 

His cape is meant to match your dress, symbolizing their affection for one another. 

It’s brilliant, honestly. 

Josh puts his hand on your shoulder, his perfectly round eyes meeting yours while he quietly says, “If you’re not comfortable with this, please don’t be afraid to tell me or Sam. Promise me you’ll say something.”

Sam looks at you with the same eyes as Josh, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable enough with everything before you start.

You smile at them both, patting Josh's hand that’s still resting gently on you. “I promise.”

“Okay, great. You guys ready?” Josh asks. 

“I think so,” Sam says, looking down at you with heavy eyes and a sweet smile. “You ready, y/n?”

As you’d walked the path down here, Josh mentioned that Jake left to go get more beer while you were getting dressed. And… he’s still not back yet. 

A part of you doesn’t want to do this without him here. Why? You wish you knew. It just doesn't feel right for some reason.

You look around at everyone once more to see if maybe he’s shown up and you just didn’t realize it.

You see Josh, Malachi and Natalia all standing around you— but no Jake. 

Oh well…

Matching Sam's smile, you say, “Yep. I’m ready.”

Neither of you have your lines memorized just yet, so you both read directly from the script.

Sam begins the scene:

“My love. I accept this token and will wear it as I carry you with me, that with it wrapped around my arm, so as you are wrapped even tighter around my heart.”

Then you:

“With it carries the promise you will return to me, unmarked and whole. Again will you lie with me, again will you hold me as tightly as my token holds you.”

You know Sam is acting, but the way he’s looking at you as you say your line— he looks like he’s madly in love. It’s catching you off guard, making your knees weak as your voice trembles with the next line.

“Seal your promise of returning to me with your lips, my love. Kiss me and tell me it’s true that you will hold me again.”

With that, Sam drops his script to his feet. He lifts his hands to cup your face, holding it gently as his thumbs lightly sweep across your cheekbones. Your breath hitches, and you too, drop your script. 

This… this suddenly doesn't feel like acting anymore. 

He leans in slowly, his lips just beginning to brush over yours. You grip his shoulders, leaning in the rest of the way until, finally, your lips collide with his. 

A kiss so sweet and tender. Not too deep, yet a far cry from a friendly peck. 

He pulls away from you delicately, the sound of his lips breaking from yours the only one you can hear as silence lingers in the air around you.

As you look into his eyes, you notice something different, something real. Like he’s wanted to do that since he first laid eyes on you just a short while ago. 

“Wow, y/n’s got some serious acting chops after all,” you hear Natalia say, slowly clapping.

But it’s abruptly interrupted by someone speaking.

“What— what the fuck is going on?” That voice… you know that voice without even looking away from Sam. 

Jake. He’s back. 

“Bravo, bravo!” Josh shouts while clapping his hands. “God. Beautifully done, you guys. I’d like to run through it just once more. Give me a little more passion this time.”

You finally look away from Sam, seeing Jake standing next to his twin with a bewildered look upon his face. 

In his all black outfit, he really stands out amongst everyone, amongst the golden sun rays that shine down upon him.

He’s not wearing his sunglasses, and you’re once again spellbound by his eyes. Their amber tone heightened in the light.

He just looks so fucking good. 

Sam is beautiful, but he’s just not Jake. 

“Hello? Is anyone going to fill me in on this?” Jake asks again, motioning his arms toward you and Sam.

“We’re rehearsing a scene, Jake.” Josh retorts. 

“Yeah? And what scene might that be?” Jake sounds quite unhappy, much to your confusion.

Josh picks up the script at Sam's feet, holding it open to the page you’re currently working on. “This one,” he says. “The one where she gives Lancelot her token. I wrote this weeks ago, Jake. Why are you acting like you’ve never seen it?”

Jake hastily takes the script from him and reads over the scene in question. “I swear I’ve never read this before.” He continues flipping the pages, going back and finding more scenes that will be shared between you and Sam. “Why the hell do they have so many of these scenes together? When did you decide on all of this?”

“Seriously, Jake?” Josh scoffs. “These scenes have always been there—,” he growls, using his hands to help communicate the emotions in his next words. “You clearly haven't read a word of the fucking script. Guinevere and Lancelot’s affair is the main focus, with some on Arthur’s affair with the maiden. We literally talked about this. Multiple fucking times.” 

Jake gives the script back to Josh, fiercely rubbing his chin as he does so.

“Why are you so upset, Jake?” Josh asks. 

“I’m literally not, Josh.” 

“Uh, yes you are. You only rub your chin like that when you’re pissed.” 

With a flair of his nostrils, Jake says, “Just get on with your goddamn rehearsal.”

“Just ignore them. They do this shit all the time,” Sam quietly says to you. “Ready to do this again?” he asks.

With your attention back on Sam, you smile and nod your head.

You do the scene again, much the same as you had before. But this time, with the watchful eyes of Jake, you feel a bit more… inspired. 

“Kiss me and tell me it’s true that you will hold me again.”

Sam once again takes your face in his hands, leaning in close to you. 

This time, instead of grabbing his shoulders, you opt to run your fingers through his hair. 

Locking eyes with Jake, who’s standing perfectly in your view, you lift your face to crash your lips with Sam— much harder this time. 

Josh wanted more passion, and he’s getting exactly that.

You push your tongue past Sam's plush lips, eliciting a soft grumble from deep in his throat. 

His hands suddenly move from your face to your neck, his fingertips tracing the skin while leaving goosebumps in their wake. He then reaches down to your waist, pulling you tightly against his body.

This is no Guiniverre and Lancelot sharing a secret kiss in the middle of a hidden forest; this is you and Sam enjoying the hell out of each other. 

But even as your mouth is fully enveloped with Sams, even with your tongues fighting for dominance with one another— your only thought… is Jake. Fucking Jake.

You situate your face just so, where you’re again able to look Jake in the eyes. He intensely glares as he watches you in a moment of pure desire with his brother— and he doesn’t look happy.

Incidentally, it's only adding fuel to your fire as your lips continue furiously attacking Sams. 

You wrap your hands even tighter around his soft locks as his tongue is dancing with yours. 

More beautiful, hushed moans escape Sam’s mouth straight into yours as you echo them right back to him. 

He tastes like heaven mixed with a delicious honey sweet bourbon, he’s fucking delectable. 

With a little hesitancy, (especially on Sam's part) the kiss breaks as you are forced to come back up for air. 

Sam is still holding you close, so close that you can feel his enthusiasm between your bodies that’s thankfully being covered by the skirt of your dress.

“You’ve uh, got me in a bit of a predicament here,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

You look him in the eyes, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip. “I can tell. Pretty big predicament, huh.” Your new found bravery has taken even you by surprise. 

Sam just smirks at you while everyone is left stunned at your performance. 

“I… am so fucking pissed,” Josh says. 

“Why, babe?” Malachi asks him.

“Because I didn’t bring my fucking camera. You two… you two were made to do this together. I really hope you can do that again. Holy shit. Bra-fucking-vo.”

“What do you think, y/n? Think we could do that again?” Sam asks you. Although it’s clear he isn’t referring to the film. 

Looking at Jake, his jaw clenched and his fists tight, you say, “Yeah.” You tear your eyes away from Jake, looking at Josh to finish. “I think we could do that again.” 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ 

A few weeks have gone by, and most things are going very well with the production. 

Josh is a fantastic director (albeit, a little too bossy at times). Their sweet friend Daniel wound up being a great cameraman, getting shots of you that didn’t make you completely cringe at first glance. Then there was Malachi, who is consistently helpful, just like his sister. Sam, the perfect scene partner— so attentive and great at checking in with you between takes. 

And Nat, ever the loyal friend, has still been coming to rehearsals with you. She hasn’t missed a single one, and her support has meant the world to you. Each time you feel a rush of insecurity washing over you, she’s there to talk you through it and be the encouragement you need.

The only part of these rehearsals that’s getting extremely old is how much Jake inserts his “constructive creative criticism.” 

On more than one occasion, you’d shoot daggers in his direction and remind him that he’s not the director and to leave it to his brother. To which he’d respond with a scoff, palms planted, strong on his hips, and turn to leave the room in a huff. 

Then there are the arguments between the twins… which have been growing in intensity. Some days production ends because the two of them just refuse to see eye to eye, making it impossible to get through a single scene. 

You have to admit— these two are rather passionate about their work.

You just wish they’d stop arguing long enough to showcase their talents. 

The most memorable day on set as of yet was the day Jake's costume had finally arrived. 

He’d been taking far too long to get dressed in his attire, causing Josh to succumb to a near full meltdown. The sun was setting and Josh was adamant about getting at least one scene with Arthur shot outside. 

Jake, however, was extremely unhappy with the costume that was chosen for him. He refused to walk out in it, claiming it was nothing like what he had pictured for the character. “This isn’t Arthur,” he said. “This is a goddamn see-through crop top.”

And that had instantly piqued your attention. You’d walked around the corner of the hallway, Natalia leading the way. Thankfully— because she did not need to be privy to the fact that you were so curious. 

Then, you saw him. Clad in his film outfit that was a cut off chainmail top, with its short, tight sleeves putting his muscular biceps on full display. 

His pecks, (which you’ve caught yourself admiring a time or two before) looked particularly perked and rounded. 

You also loved how sheer the top was, giving you a fantastic view of his skin underneath. 

Jake clearly wasn’t happy about it, but you most definitely were. 

“Goddamn…” you whispered to yourself, watching the way his arms flexed each time he adjusted his shirt. You couldn’t help it. He just looked so fucking sexy. 

“I’m not wearing this, Josh.” Jake asserted. “Nope. This is ridiculous.”

“Yes you are, Jake. It’s only for a few scenes, then you can wear the outfit you chose.” Josh blurted. “And I told you we’d get you a black cloak to wear. Will that make you feel better?” You noted a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“Fuck no,” Jake said. “And why the hell does Sam get to have my sword for so many of his scenes?”

The argument continued on, and almost an hour later, Jake finally gave in. But, it was too late. The sun had gone down, and you were all ready to call it quits for the night. 

“Well, a fucking wasted day. Thanks an awful lot, Jake.” Josh shouted as he stomped up the stairs.

They were able to shoot that scene the very next day, and as usual, they acted as if nothing had happened. 

It’s pure whiplash with these two. One minute they’re cussing each other out, on the verge of throwing fists; the next, they’re making each other laugh so hard they’re nearly rolling on the floor. 

Outside of filming, Jake has remained stoic– ignorant to your existence. 

At school, he acts as though you don’t exist– only acknowledging you if he absolutely has to. For instance, before you can even try to get a word in before or after class, he’s already shooting up out of his seat before you have time to even think about standing up.

And similarly, at rehearsals, your conversations are limited to one or two words here and there, besides the incessant critiques he tosses around after your scenes. 

Sam, however, has given you nothing but praise after praise. His flirting hasn’t let up— and you’ve been dishing it right back any chance you get. 

You had ultimately decided if Jake wouldn't give you the time of day, you’d give it to someone who will. Who just so happens to be Sam.

Although, it lends more material for Jake’s reproval. The comments he’d make about it were aggravating at best.

“Can you show us all some fucking respect, please?”

“We’re trying to get work done.”

“Do you want us all to have failed projects because you two can’t stay fuckin’ focused?”

And, to every response, Josh shut him down, scolding him for being an asshole. 

“You’re going to chase away my muse, Jake. Please, cut the shit,” he’d roll his eyes, messing with the sides of his hair, fluffing it, cutting a glance at his twin. “I’m tired of you acting like a child. You’re the one causing us to lag with the ridiculous comments.”

The comments did distract you a little from the scenes you knew were coming up rather quickly on the filming schedule… but his remarks also added unnecessary anxiety to the overall atmosphere for you. In which case, Sam would be the one to make you feel better, bringing you right back to him.

The particular scene that’s hurtling towards you is happening later this week. You’re filming a brand new scene with Sam that will be far more intimate than anything you’ve filmed thus far. 

Josh wanted to give you time to adjust to everything and feel completely comfortable before he introduced this part of the film.

You’re still nervous about it, but your eagerness to see the film through has you ready to give it a go. 

The day before the filming of the scene, you go about things like normal. You have so much fun rehearsing with Sam; Nat and Malachi watch in awe as the scene flows flawlessly between the two of you, like it normally does. 

And today, it’s easier because Jake had been strangely absent. But, it hadn’t been better. Because no matter him being so irritating, you had sort of missed looking up at him, mid-scene with Sam. It had become oddly normal to find his eyes while meeting Sam’s lips.

After finishing a rather long rehearsal, Josh reminds you in passing that you’ll be wearing a brand new costume for tomorrow’s shoot.

And you figured today was as good a day as any to give it a peek.

Walking to Jake’s room to locate it, you sent Nat a quick text that you were heading there. She’d slipped away with Malachi to discuss costumes, but you knew if you ended up trying the costume on that you’d need her there to help (or at the very least, encourage). 

Jake’s room has become designated for your costumes, of which he has expressed ample irritation about. Just one more thing for the twins to fight about.

You’re actually starting to believe that Josh made it that way just to spite Jake. 

Once you make it there, the stark red garment bag is hanging on the closet door, awaiting you. It’s the other one that had been laid out on Jake's bed that first day you came over. 

That day had slipped away from all of you with Josh’s insistence that you and Sam re-rehearse the kiss, over and over. So, you never got the chance to try it on. 

You had hesitated looking at it since that day, though, because Nat forewarned you that this costume was much more revealing than the last, and knowing that, you haven’t really been in any hurry to try it on. 

Lifting up on your tiptoes the slightest bit, you grab the garment bag that holds the brand new, different costume that Malachi has specially picked for you.

Nat had fortunately gotten the text and had made it in time to help you remove the corset dress, carefully placing it back in its garment bag. 

Left in your black thong, lacking a bra from your prior costume, you look at the other bag, now laying on the bed. Your stomach sinks to your knees at the possibility of what’s hiding beneath the red canvas.

“Just how bad is it, Nat?” 

The anxiety you faced trying on the first dress weeks ago is now creeping its way back in. You’re scared stiff for a moment, staring down at the costume still hidden beneath the red fabric.

“You’re overthinking it, y/n,” she says. “Just open it and find out. All I can tell you is you’re going to look unreal.”

Not wanting to draw this out any longer, you start unzipping the bag, slowly revealing the black lace that was tucked away inside.

You pull on the hanger to take it out of the bag fully. 

A long black gown of intricate lace and chiffon— a lavish, luxurious piece of… lingerie. The gown exposes skin, hiding just beyond the cloth. Tight at the bust and waist, and flowing out at your hips. 

The neckline is completely open and plunges down to the waist. The mesh material decorated with an elaborate floral design— is utterly see-through. The front of the gown is held together with only a black satin ribbon tied in a bow.

“Holy shit, y/n,” she gasps, admiring every piece of your body she can see. “You look like a piece of fucking artwork. Utterly gorgeous, honey.”

“God, Nat…” You hold it up to your body, running your fingers over the long, bell sleeve. “I really don’t know about this.”

“Josh told you if you don’t like it, they’ll find you something else. But you should at least try it on, see what you think,” she says. 

You’re scared of putting it on and absolutely despising your body; you’ll be forced once again to face all of the things you don’t love about it— you won’t be able to hide in this. Not at all. 

But, you promised Josh and Malachi you’d try it. And Nat is right— they have assured you over and over again that if you’re not happy with something, they’ll fix it. No questions asked. Josh asks you every single day if you’re comfortable with everything, and he’s made it abundantly clear over the course of the production that you must tell him if there’s anything you don’t like.

Clearing your mind of any more thought, (because you’ll overthink yourself to the death if you don’t) you untie the sash, placing the gown over your body. 

As you suspected, there's nothing left to the imagination. 

The lace just barely covers your breasts, laying completely open down to your belly button— and you’ve suddenly become hyper aware of the fact that your nipples are peeking through the sheer fabric. 

“Please tell me they have pasties for me, because this,” you grumble, pointing to your chest, “is not going to work for me.”

Initially you’re talking about your nipples that you can see through the sheer fabric, but you figure there’s no use in hiding what’s on your chest from Nat. Something you would also like to be covered from eyes that you can’t fully trust yet. So, you lift your breast the slightest bit to also expose the red ink lying beneath the supple flesh.

Redrum, in dark red ink etched along the curve underneath your right breast. 

Your best kept secret is no longer hidden with the likes of this dress.

“Is that…. a tattoo?” 

You had decided on an impulse one night (after a few too many drinks) that you wanted a tattoo. It had been a hard week of treatments for your mom, while also simultaneously being the week that you found out about your acceptance to U of M. And you had figured you might as well do something for you— both to celebrate and distract yourself from the sad reality of your mother’s decline. 

No one knows about it (save for Natalia now). Not even your mom. It was gotten with the intent to be something special for you and only you. A part of your body that you could find comfort in despite your dislike for your build— something about yourself to be comfortable with.

And being the massive Stephen King and Kubrick fan that you are, you decided on a tattoo that solidifies your love for The Shining. Both the book and the film have carried through some incredibly tough times in your life, so you can’t really say you regret the permanent decision. But, you like that it’s something sacred for just you. 

“Yeah,” you say, tracing your finger along the flesh like you do nearly everyday. Just to ground yourself. “Important to me for several reasons. No one knows about it. You’re the first to know I have it actually.”

She nods in approval. “I’m honored,” she says, a sweet grin highlighting her features. “And I’m totally here for it.”

You really weren’t ready for everyone to see it yet, though. 

“Do you think there’s something that we could cover it up with?”

She is already walking to the door as you ask, ready to help however she can. 

“I’m going to check with Malachi,” she says, one foot out the door. Then she steps back inside the room, shutting the door to a crack before she whispers. “I won’t tell anyone about it. I’ll just say I wanna snoop through Josh’s Ben Nye.”

“You’re the best Nat,” you feel tears well in your eyes. 

You’ve never had a friend as wonderful as Natalia, and with every small thing she did to help, it solidifies how grateful you are for her. 

When the door closes behind her, you decide to bite the bullet and look at yourself once more.

Your thoughts begin to torment you, but you combat them with Natalia’s words. 

“You look like a piece of fucking artwork. Utterly gorgeous, honey.”

You wish so badly you could eternally shut the thoughts off long enough to see yourself the way others see you, especially in these stunning costumes that you should feel beautiful in. 

Someone as lovely as Nat— inside and out— complimenting you in the way she has, you should feel inclined to believe her; she’s not just telling you what she thinks you want to hear. She’s the most genuine person you’ve yet to meet and the last person to ever bullshit you. 

A few heavier tears have begun to form, threatening to fall at any moment as you take in your image in the mirror.

You do look beautiful.

For the first time in god knows how long, you can see your beauty reflecting back to you, effectively telling your ever intrusive thoughts to ‘fuck off’ once and for all.  And it’s not just in your body, it’s in you. The beauty within yourself that fully encompasses who you’ve grown to become as a woman.

You’ve been through some tough ass shit— had to go through things that you wish you hadn’t had to… and you’re still standing here to speak of it. That, in and of itself, is an accomplishment that shows some sort of beauty and resilience flowing from inside of you. 

It doesn’t feel right acknowledging these things. You’re not used to it. But at this moment, it feels okay. Feels good. You let yourself have it for now.

You normally wouldn’t dare be caught in something like this (let alone allow yourself to be on camera) but now, you’re actually excited. You never would have guessed you had a passion for acting, for playing a character so vastly different from who you are in real life. You’re glad to have somehow stumbled upon this whole thing; it’s helped you find the confidence in yourself that you’ve been desperately searching for your entire life. 

Moving the material covering your thighs the slightest bit, you reveal your leg, flexing it and admiring the taut flesh there. The feminine way your body is built complimenting the lean muscle that’s been built from hard work over time— working your ass off to get to where you wanted to be. Then, you poke your ass out, turning the slightest bit, you see the plush skin of your ass through the thin, dark material. You take the briefest second to appreciate the way it looks, round and full at the top of your thighs. Usually you would hate acknowledging that—hate. it.—but right now? It’s something sort of… sexy, seeing it. It’s hidden away beneath the flowing material, but wholly visible as well. 

It’s mysterious and you like it. The gown acknowledges parts of your body, without putting it on full display and it’s honestly everything you needed. It helps you to accept the curves you usually curl your lip at. 

Just then, as you stand there with your leg completely out of the slit, you hear the handle on the door turn and the door slowly creak as it’s being opened from the other side. 

Nat must’ve found the makeup for your little secret. You hold your breast in preparation to cover the ink, but don’t immediately turn around towards the door. Part of you, wanting her to see this new found confidence you’ve discovered within the confines of this gown. 

“I am so fucking glad you talked me into trying this on. I would have never if it weren’t for you— “

The sound of a throat being cleared of tension is made, interrupting you before you’re able to get the rest of your words out.

With a slight cock of your head in the direction of the door, your hair waving around your shoulders in the process, you realize… it’s not Nat standing on the threshold. 

Stunned, frozen solid in your position that exposes your leg all the way up to the round flesh of your ass peeking through, you realize that standing where Nat should be… is Jake. 

He’s as still as you, with one hand still on the doorknob and the other tightly gripping the frame on the other side. 

You half expected him to shut the door immediately upon seeing you, but he didn’t. He’s just standing there, eyes trailing your barely clothed figure. 

You should say something. You should tell him to get the fuck out and give you some privacy. But as you attempt to open your mouth to do so, nothing comes out. 

His eyes linger on your face for a time, but eventually, they start trailing from your feet, up your legs, over your hips and taut stomach. You’re hardly breathing, but your chest is still heaving short breaths… 

It becomes obvious to you that you like how his eyes feel on you. How he’s observing every inch of your body that you’re feeling brave inside for once… 

You want him to see, to see you exactly like this. 

Suddenly, your nipples harden when his dark, whiskey colored eyes (sans sunglasses, thank fucking god) find your shapely breasts outlined by the fabric just barely hiding them. The hand covering the round flesh tightens in an attempt to conceal the tattoo, but you’re longing to release the hand and show him all of you. 

But you know better. So your hand stays firm, but you let your erect nipple peek through the fingers splayed across your chest. 

You hear footsteps quickly stomping down the hall, becoming louder as they get close to Jake’s room.

“Jake! What the fuck are you doing?” Nat’s hand reaches out from nowhere, takes his arm and shoves him clear of your sight. Successfully breaking your lust ridden trance. “Give her some fucking privacy, godammit!”

And as you stood there, Nat giving Jake a piece of her mind, you can’t ignore how hot and bothered you’d become. You rub your thighs together, searching for a hint of friction from whatever had just transpired between you and Jake, longing for more of it. 

Your friend finally comes in, adamantly running her mouth about how irritated she is by Jake’s intrusion, but you don’t hear her words. 

Because you feel the complete opposite of her. In fact, you want to push her out of the room and bring Jake back to finish what had just barely begun. 

“God, he’s a fucking idiot. I’m sorry about that,” she says as she begins rubbing the stage makeup on the skin of your tattoo, you imagine briefly that her fingers are Jake’s… 

Then, feeling your nipples begin to harden from the thought, you clear your throat. Fuck. Too far.

Cover, cover, cover… 

She can’t know. 

“Damn,” you shake your head, your cheeks hot. “Why do they always keep it so cold in here?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice a shift in dynamic as she laughs.

“I know, girl,” she snorts, a curl falling in front of her eye that she blows away. The breath makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Malachi is always giving Josh shit about it.”

She finishes blending out the makeup, adding a little powder on top to set it. 

“I’d say we’ve got you pretty well covered. Take a look, tell me what you think.”

You turn back to face yourself in the mirror, and right before you’re able to look at your reflection, a picture sitting on the dresser catches your eye. 

It’s of the three brothers— Josh, Sam, and Jake… their arms around each other as they smile wide.

But you can only look at Jake’s face, his smile so beautiful and bright in the image. 

“Yeah, it looks great,” you say, eyes fixed on Jake’s handsome face, smiling back at you. “Looks really good.”

a/n: any thoughts as to why Jake is being so horrible during this film production? 🤔

buckle up, we've only just begun. ;)

if you'd like to be tagged, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. 🤍

love you all so much.

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @iffypanic @sinarainbows @klarxtr @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @livkiszka @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface  @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflame4goinghome@heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @nina-23-45 @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon

I’m fairly certain I’ve included everyone but if I’ve forgotten you, please let me know! (& i sincerely apologize)