#Sam kiszka smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gretavanmoon · 5 months ago

Text

S A L T Y

Jake x female reader

4.8k words

+ After indulging in a shared stamina-boosting treat in the dead of summer, you find yourself twisted up in a silly argument that's laced with jealousy... the salt is heavy in more ways than one with this one.

Happy Fourth of July! Keep this in your back pocket for your post-firework bedtime story. Gracias to @gretavangroupie for edits and forcing me to post this love yaaaaa

Warnings: 18+! Angst: Cursing, Substance Use in the form of Aphrodisia, Arguing, Mentions of Alcohol, Heavy Jealousy & Possessiveness, Overall Bossiness Smut: Kissing, Touching, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (M! and F! Receiving), Dom/Sub kinda

“Son of a bitch, if we keep it up like this I’m not gonna have anything left in me, baby,” Jake admits as he removes his right foot from the arm of the couch, the other standing weakly on the floor, barely holding his weight. Your body is bent in half, your arms holding you uncomfortably upright as he pulls out from behind you, hands still gripped and squeezing tightly around your waist.

You and Jake had made the early afternoon decision to each eat a special pleasure-boosting chocolate that you’d been told about by a friend a few months ago, and saying that the effects always took perfectly for the both of you would be an understatement. Just one serving would have the two of you ravenous for each other for hours on end, and seeing as how neither of you had anything to do for the rest of the day, it only seemed right to end the weekend on a high note. It was only after you’d both eaten the chocolate and after you figured out that your air conditioning had decided to go out that you told Jake about your plans for next weekend, thus sending him into a pissed-off mood that was borderline a thrown tantrum. But you accounted his mood to the extra blood flow the chemicals in the chocolate had given him going straight to his dick, leaving little for his brain to process thoughts.

“Hah, look at you calling me baby, after bitching at me all day,” you quip, turning to meet eyes with him as you stand up straight again, the feeling of your own wetness sliding between your thighs. Your muscles already feel weak as you turn to plop back down on the plush cushions of the couch, careful not to drip anything on your freshly washed covers.

He instantly falls to his knees, growling as he grabs the insides of both of your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the couch. His mouth is instantly connected to your core, his tongue already burying itself deep inside your deepest crevices. You’re both groaning from near exhaustion, willing your bodies to keep up with your desire.

“I can bitch at you and still call you baby, Y/N. Not my fault you said yes to a date with someone else without my permission,” he barks before diving back between your legs.

Your hands smooth back the strands of hair sticking to his forehead, pulling them away from his face as you bite both your lips in, finding it insanely difficult to stop yourself from wailing his name so loudly you disturb the neighbors. He’s being facetious and you know that, but his attitude makes it all the more challenging to not give in to him completely. You love it when he gets a little jealous.

Instead of yelling at him, you bite a quick “fuck me” through your tightly clenched teeth, hoping to god he doesn’t hear you. His brow furrows as he makes eye contact with you, a maddening expression painted on his sweat-coated face that you’re sure is only there simply for the sake of playing dumb. “Are you just raving, or is that a request?” he growls as he pulls away just long enough to breathe his words out.

“Neither, asshole,” you lightly tap your fingertips to the side of his temple, knocking him sideways as he presses your legs apart, giving him further access to work you. He likes it. He gets off on you being playfully scornful to him. He cracks a short-lived but devious smile before turning back into his whiney self.

You take a quick breath, ready to explain yourself again. “And it’s not a date, it’s drinks. With my co-workers. How in the– aahhh, fuckkkk– how in the fuck is that a date?” Your eyes begin to roll back a little as he points his tongue directly over your clit, arrogantly knowing exactly what makes you fall apart for him.

He pulls his head back with a hiss, making you disconnect your hands from his roots as he eyes you meticulously. He licks his lips, your slick still coating the 5 o’clock shadow that’s now adorning his face after going at it with you all day. His eyes never leave yours as he plunges his two middle fingers inside you, pushing his other hand against the inside of your left thigh. “How is it not a date, baby? Don’t be fucking coy. You dated the man.”

You groan in aggravation as he pisses you off even more, still pinning your leg to the side as his fingers work inside you, hitting your g-spot with so much fucking ease you want to slap him again. “I went on two dates with him! That hardly qualifies as dating, Jacob,” you retort as he flicks his fingers with more precision. Your head falls back again, the pleasure coming in rippling waves now as you feel your stomach tightening. “Plus, he’s my manager… invited everyone… how am I supposed to say no to that?”

The air shifts a little as he loudly clicks his tongue.

“Did you ever fuck him?” he asks quickly, sitting back on his heels as he completely halts all movement of his hand.

“What?”

He leans in, hovering over your belly as his face is dangerously close to yours, his fingers still buried deep but staying completely still. “Did… you…ever… fuck him? Simple question, love.”

You swallow, not expecting the conversation to even go here, let alone while you’re literally fucking him.

Your eyes dart side to side, the blurry memories of sleeping with the man who is now your boss those some ten-odd years ago flashing through your mind. That was a lifetime ago, you were barely in college a few weeks. And it was two dates and a hookup before the two of you decided to just stay friends, and that was that. You’d only seen him in passing a handful of times over the years, but to be quite honest, after sleeping with him, he barely ever even crossed your mind.

You swallow again as Jake’s eyebrows raise, waiting for you to answer. He shoves his fingers deeper inside you to remind you that he asked a question, making you clench around him. “Fuck! Yes, okay? Yes. We slept together one time, Jake. Once. And it was ten fucking years ago.”

He stays silent as he bites his lip in, a rush of what looks like disappointment crashing over his face for just a second. He slowly picks up the pace again, delving his fingers inside at a much slower pace, now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he mumbles, still biting his lips. You can tell that your admission has defeated him just a little.

“Tell you what? That I hooked up with him once? Probably because it feels like it was a figment of my imagination, at this point. I was eighteen. Why does it matter?” you ask, wondering if he’s really upset, or if he’s just pouting at the fact that you left this little detail out about this certain person you work with.

“He’s your fucking manager, Y/N, I don’t know…” he says, shaking his head side to side. You can see the sweat starting to form on his chest, the drips starting to form into a stream that is dripping down to his stomach. You could feel the heat of the day starting to creep into the walls now that the A/C has been out for a few hours, and the sun practically baking everything it touches outside isn’t helping in the matter. But there’s nothing you can do about it right now, the both of you will just have to suffer until the chocolate wears off and you can act like humans instead of rabid animals.

You stay quiet as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach again, wanting him to continue so you can reach your high, but also feeling the heavy shift in the conversation. You glance at the sweat pouring from him, and some kind of carnal instinct to want to taste it takes over your entire being. You suddenly need your mouth on him. You need to lick up every droplet of sweat that’s rushing down his body, and swallow it down. Taking matters into your own hands, you grab his wrist and rip his hand from you, standing up as you pull him to his feet. The soreness sets in again, having been in nearly every position in the Kama Sutra already today.

You pull on his hands, making him follow you into the bedroom. “What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, trailing behind.

“Come in here, come lay down,” you order, turning him to push him down into the already messy sheets. Luckily, there’s a fan in here, giving the two of you a little reprieve as the heat fills the house. You watch as his tanned body falls backwards into the stark white sheets, his hair falling behind him as he reclines. His skin is glowing, his eyes trained on you, watching your every move as you crawl up him, purposefully snaking your body so that he has a visual of every single curve of your sweat-covered self.

You lean down, outstretching your tongue and touching his navel, working your way up his stomach and to his chest, collecting the deliciously salty taste of him on your tongue. There’s something about it, the flavor and the scent and the way he feels beneath you… it’s not the most pleasant, but you’re positive nothing on this earth tastes or smells more like home to you. You’d always read about how animals are attracted to their mates’ scent, and you never understood how it could apply to humans, too, until you became serious with Jake. It’s something that’s just wired into your brain now, and the longer you’re together, the more you find yourself craving it. Craving him.

“I’m sweaty and gross, babe,” he complains as he leans up and twists his hair into a knot behind his head, remnant baby hairs still sticking to and framing his face.

“You think I care? You taste so good… like you just got out of the ocean…” you say honestly, making him laugh a little through his nose. You run your tongue all over him, his sides, his groin, his pecs and his neck… each place tasting better than the last, and each spot making him absolutely feral at the feeling of your mouth on him. His light moans of bliss fill the room as his hands search for any part of you he can grab on to, his eyes fluttering open and closed as you watch his face light up.

You can tell he’s getting hard again as you let your lips lightly ghost over his shaft, the chocolate still putting in work in keeping him turned on. Finally, you find yourself starving for him again, too, letting your lips cup over the head of his dick as you give it one tight little squeeze.

“Please baby, fuck…” he grunts, his knees bending up and around your body. One thing about the way this chocolate works is that it amplifies everything, making every brush, every touch, every sensation amplified by a hundred. You have already had your mouth on him a couple of times today, but you can imagine how he feels simply from your experience with his mouth on you earlier, begging and wanting and needing the feeling so desperately. Absolutely bursting at the seams to experience the euphoria.

You move your body to straddle him, letting your already completely soaked core drift over his cock, ready and waiting to fill you again.

“Don’t think I forgot about the conversation we were having, Jake,” you tease as you position your knees firmly on either side of him. He fills his cheeks and blows out a long puff of air, his hand hitting his forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat.

“I don’t remember us having a conversation, Y/N, but I remember me expressing to you that I’m not happy with this arrangement,” he says, smirking at you a little while he runs his tongue along his teeth. “You fucked him! And you work with him! And you never even told me!” he all but yells.

You let your opening line up with his tip, letting yourself fall on to it just an inch or so. Your body was begging you to sit all the way down, the fire burning within your veins way past its boiling point. But you held strong.

“You think I fucked him, Jake?” you ask, swirling your hips gently on him.

He tries his best to stifle his words, but he comes up short. “Oh my god, baby, you feel so– please…” he begs, his jaw falling slack just from the tiny touch. His eyes pop open and look at you, his expression absolutely pleading for more. “Yeah, you told me you did…”

You pause, letting the heavy air hang for just a second as you laugh a little under your breath. You shake your head side to side at his naivety, wondering just how he thought the situation went down all those years ago. “I didn’t fuck him,” you answer, letting yourself fall another inch as your fingertips pause on his stomach. “I was eighteen, I didn’t even know what fucking was…” you purr, swirling on him again.

His chest is heaving with want, his growls now turned into desperate whimpers as he’s doing anything but begging you to let him fill you. You know that if things were normal, and if the two of you weren’t caught up in this childish back-and-forth, he’d be on his hands and knees for you, falling to the floor at your every whim. His hips buck up into you, but you rise on your knees, not allowing him to have any control over the matter.

“But you… you and me… this…” you go on as you sit back down, giving yourself centimeters. “I didn’t know what I was even missing, until I found you…” you admit. “No one has ever made me feel like you do.”

He takes a deep breath, centering himself. “None? None of them?” His hand sneaks up and presses a thumb to your clit, adding just enough pressure to make your breath catch.

You shake your head side to side again, as you’re almost seated to the hilt, the feeling of him filling you again already making your body shudder. “No baby, none of them. So you can cut the pissy attitude, or I’m hopping off of you, and taking care of myself.” With that, you sit down completely on him, your bodies finally resting together as you feel the tip of him buried as far as he could get.

“Ffffuckk, Y/N, god damnit, yes,” Jake howls into the room as his thumb still works your clit, his other hand rushing up to grip onto your hip. But you steady your movements. Though your body is burning for you to move, you want to give him the same lack of satisfaction he gave you earlier. But just for a second.

“Answer me, am I going to have to take care of myself, Jake? Or are you going to quit being salty over something that doesn’t fucking matter and let me fuck you how I want?”

You know the situation matters to him. And you’ll validate that later. But not right now. Right now it’s fueling too much angst and you’re having too much fun.

His grip on your hip tightens so hard that it almost hurts, his fingernails digging into the thick muscle there. You’re fully aware that both of you can get turned on from dirty talk alone, and the chocolate is only exaggerating the feeling. Your brain is buzzing with electricity from it. You love when he gets a little rough. He can tell that your body responds to the little bit of pain, and like a switch flipped in his brain, he lets it turn on all his lights. Suddenly both his hands are on your hips, switching the places of both of you in one swift movement. Your body is pressed against the mattress, your shoulders being held down as he hovers overtop of you. “How about you let me fuck you how I want, hm? How’s that sound?” he challenges with an air of greed.

Like a petty little pet, you nod your head, completely losing the war of being the one calling the shots the second he squeezes your clit between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation almost kills you, cuts off your ability to breathe altogether as he begins pulsing his fingers quickly, causing the desire to pool up in your belly all over again. He’s never really concentrated his fingers this pointedly before; usually his hands are grabbing and squeezing wherever they can. But with the most sensitive part of your body being held so tightly and at the mercy of his fingers, you feel completely at his will. “How about I show you exactly why you choose to stick around, and you’ll keep choosing it, no matter how many dates you go on with your boss.”

“God, give it up, Jake,” you complain, rolling your eyes dramatically as his movements set your whole body on fire again.

You’ve barely gotten the words out before his other hand is braced across your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to your pulse points. You want to swallow, but you can’t, all you can do is let out a pitiful whine that sounds more like a choked sob than a moan. His other two fingers are still gripped on your clit as he balances on his knees, his eyes laser sharp as the sweat continues to drip from his chest.

“Give it up? Give it up?! Baby, you’re being awfully bossy for someone who is in the wrong, here. And for someone who’s acting so bratty today,” he says, his voice sounding gentler than the words he’s spouting. “Tell me you won’t go to the bar with them. Tell me you’ll back out of the plans.”

Deep down, you know Jake doesn’t give a fuck who you hang out with. You’re both comfortable enough in your relationship that trust is paramount, and neither of you have ever tested it. He trusts you, and you him to come home to one another every night, never straying or giving the other a reason to be suspicious about anything at all.

He squeezes a little harder on your throat, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your core as his eyebrows shoot up.

“Come with me. Come out with us. You haven’t met them yet, anyway… come let them see that I’m yours, we don’t even have to tell them. We can show them…” you suggest, honestly liking this idea way more. His grip on your throat loosens as bit as he contemplates the idea.

“Show them, hm?” Finally he nods, giving in to your suggestion. “Okay, yeah, I’ll show up…”

You nod back at him as you give him the tiniest smirk, bringing your own hand up to cup over his, squeezing his fingers a little tighter on you. “What’s with you today, huh? Testing me every five minutes…” he asks. His teeth grit against one another as the wind from the fan hits the back of his head just right, blowing his damp hair over his face as he lets go of his grip between your legs, adjusting his body so that he’s positioned perfectly above you again. His hand moves from your throat straight down to your tit, gripping the whole thing roughly as he takes his dick in his hand, running it up through your wetness. The sensation is enough to floor you, every single atom in your body on fire and wanting to feel him completely.

Your hands find his waist, pulling him into you with everything you have, your legs already wrapping around him. “Stop making me fucking wait Jake,” you spout. “I’ll stop bitching, I promise, just please…”

“Oh now you wanna back down…? Not like I haven’t gotten you off three times already today…”

“You’re the one who’s been fucking bitching like a teenager all damn day! God…” you rouse, knowing that your voice is probably grating on his nerves right now. He presses himself harder against you, daring you to say another word.

“Watch your mouth,” he warns, still holding himself in his hand. You can feel his pulse throbbing in the head of his dick as it presses up against you, and you know if you say another cross word, you’re in for it.

“And what if I don’t?” you press, sounding as prissy as you possibly can.

He taunts you with the same ultimatum that you gave him earlier, “Then I’ll just have to go and take care of myself, I guess… and leave you here unsatisfied. Your mouth has been nothing but aggravating today, Y/N, I swear to god…”

You roll your eyes at him, knowing he most definitely hasn’t forgotten about your lips sucking at him for nearly an hour today, if you added it all up.

“Will you just fuck me, Jake? I’ll keep my mouth shut if you shut yours…” you spout as you feel your core drip down onto the sheets.

“Is that a fucking promise?” he asks, cocking both eyebrows.

“Swear.”

Like a wild animal that can no longer control it’s instinct, he presses all the way into you, stifling all the noises that you know he wants to make. His body lurches to hover over you as he picks up a slow pace, his hips cracking with extreme precision as his thighs smack against the backs of your legs. “God, you get on my fucking nerves,” he jests through his teeth.

“Mutual,” you say quickly, jutting your chin upward.

Your throat is burning with rage as you stop yourself from crying out, only tiny breaths of whimpers escaping as you hold your side of the quiet bargain. His eyes are dark and devious as his hips snap harder, hitting you more deeply than he has all day. Your vision blurs into a deep black with each thrust, the pleasure threatening to make you go nonverbal, anyway.

An especially harsh breath falls from you as he bends your leg up, hitting you even deeper and at a new angle. He brings his left hand up to his mouth, pressing his pointer finger gently over his lips with a hushed ‘Shhh’.

Your hand flies up and cups around your mouth as you follow his order, ceasing all sounds that could possibly escape you. His eyes stay trained on you as his hair falls across his face and yours, his scent wafting across your nose as you take in chopped breaths through it. You force your eyes closed as the pleasure builds in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the beginning of another delicious orgasm overtaking your psyche. It burns, the threat of overstimulation creeping up in your insides, but you ignore it simply for the fact that you are going to feel him so wholly again, letting him bring you to the brink of no return for the third, fourth, fifth… whatever time it will be today.

Suddenly you feel his lips on the shell of your ear, his teeth biting in as he whispers. “I’ll go on your little work outing with you, but if I’m gonna endure being around a man who’s already fucked you, you’ll do things to my liking, got it?” he asks, and you know better than to say no right now. Your stomach muscles are tightening, jerking your body as the bliss builds up, so you nod in agreement as your hand is still clamped over your mouth. “You’ll wear that low-cut top with the lace straps that I like so much… and that black leather skirt that cuts at your thigh… wear my favorite perfume, and that pretty little necklace I got you for your birthday. Sound good, babydoll?”

You nod again as his teeth pull on your earlobe, his voice low and gravelly, still. “Good. Then it’s settled. Then everyone will see how tantalizing you look outside of your work clothes, and they won’t be able to do a goddamned thing about it… they won’t be able to touch you… They’ll just have to admire you from afar while I tease you under the table…” his hand ghosts down and his thumb finds your clit again, making your eyes shoot closed and your head tilt back into the pillows. Fuck, if he doesn’t always manage to win these things. And you know he isn’t lying, either. You know your entire work outing will be full of his hands secretly snaking between your legs under any table you’re sitting at, his hand gripping your ass at every turn, his eyes staring daggers through you from across the room…begging you to sneak with him into the bathroom.

You know how the game is played, and somehow, he always fucking wins whether you want him to or not. What you don’t know though, is that he thinks the exact same thing of you. You winning him over with the way you feel wrapped around him, your body drenched and buzzing beneath him. He always wins, even when he doesn’t.

“You gonna cum, baby? Let me have it one more time?” he asks, his hand now pressing down on your stomach where he can feel himself entering you with each pointed thrust he’s still delivering.

“Mhmm…” you moan into his neck, his mouth still sucking hard on your ear and everything surrounding it.

“You’re mine… all mine… no one else’s… give me what I want, baby,” he gloats, and his possessive words send a slow shockwave through your body, the rippling effects of the most intense orgasm you’ve had today sending your mind into a noiseless world of white light. All you can feel is him, all you can think about is him… and when you finally catch your breath and let your hand fall to the back of his neck, your pitiful moan on the come-down reverberates off the walls, sending him to finish right behind you.

When his breath finally evens enough to come back to earth, his body collapses on top of you, completely spent as he pulls himself out of you. You lean down to kiss his neck, his skin still coated in that sweet-salty goodness that is enough to get you going again, but you relax, feeling the effects of the chocolate beginning to slowly wear off.

He flips his head around to face you as you both lie face-down on the bed, and a smile that you haven’t seen all day sweeps across his pink, pouted lips. “Do I still taste like the ocean?”

You let your fingertips tousle the hair around his face, drenched and sticky. “Better than the ocean. You taste like you.”

His cheeks blush as his demeanor completely shifts into softness. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah baby, I know,” you reply with sincerity.

“And you don’t have to wear all that stuff to the bar. You’ll look beautiful in whatever you choose. You could turn heads in a burlap sack.”

You giggle as you pull his hand up to your lips, kissing his palm. “But what if I want to wear all that? What if I want you to tease me all night, make my boss even more jealous than he probably already is?” you press.

“Then it’s a no brainer. Do it up, baby. I trust you,” he says with confidence.

“Maybe I will,” you reply, taking a deep breath. “Not pissy anymore now that I gave you what you wanted?”

He smiles coyly, snaking one arm underneath you to pull you on top of him again. “Nah. No more bitching from me. I think I was about to have a heat stroke.” His hands are ghosting all over your body again, but not in a wanting way. His fingertips drift over your curves as if he’s adoring the body that is sitting over him. Simply taking the time to appreciate you.

“Me too,” you giggle, and you know that the festivities for the day have most likely reached their bittersweet end. “I’ll go start us a cold shower while you call the landlord, sound like a plan?” you ask, holding your hand up as you await a high-five.

“Deal,” he says, clapping his hand to yours. “But you can’t try and seduce me in the shower, I don’t think I have anything left in me. You’ve drained me dry, girl.”

You laugh through your nose as you hop into the floor, rushing off to the bathroom. “We’ll see about that.”

xoxoxo Jules

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lightsofthe-living-gvf · 8 months ago

Text

Eucalyptus

18+ minors DNI

Sam Kiszka/Reader

Summary: A movie night with Sam takes a pleasant turn.

Warnings: smut, dare I say porn with plot? koalas and koala facts mentioned but not in like a weird way I just feel it needs a warning, moving on… unprotected penetrative sex (don’t do that!), dom/sub undertones, Sam has a praise kink, he’s also quite needy (have y’all noticed a trend yet), a tiny bit of overstimulation, dirty talk-ish things, teasing, marking, pet names, let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Hello, all! Thanks for tuning in! I thought since Sam’s birthday is coming up, I’d post a fic I’ve been working on for what feels like forever. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

It was Sam's turn to choose the movie that night. He made sure you knew it, too, with a sing-song reminder as you both made your way into the living room, pillows and blankets from your bed bunched up in your arms. You situated yourselves on the couch after an unnecessarily tumultuous few minutes, during which you'd managed to be only centimeters from driving your knee into the small of his back and he'd accidentally jabbed one of his bony elbows into the soft part of your side. He had also totally crushed your fingers beneath that same elbow and when you told him he had better watch it, he defended himself vehemently, claiming that your fingers "crushed themselves, why would you put them under my elbow?" Eventually, you wound up on your back with Sam at your side, his head on your shoulder and your arms tangled together across your torsos.

"Sammy," you murmured, as a harrowing--and kind of humorous--realization set in.

"Hm?"

"We forgot to grab the remote..."

"What? You think I'm gonna get it?"

He huffed and nuzzled further into the warm skin of your neck, as if he were trying to ignore the consequences of you both having forgotten the damned T.V remote... Those consequences being that one of you was going to have to move out of your comfy, cozy position to retrieve it. And you knew--fully well--that Sam would not be moving from his spot until the credits of whatever movie he chose were rolling. So, it was up to you.

Still, you decided to press his buttons a little. "Could you...?"

"Pfft- you're dreaming. And you're closer," his reply came an adorable snark, muffled into your skin.

With a giggle, you shimmied over to the edge of the couch and ignored the pouty look Sam shot in your direction, as if it were your fault the remote was still on the coffee table. You stretched your arm out and in what was an amazing feat of strength and balance, managed to grab the remote without tumbling to the floor. When you returned to your spot, Sam latched onto you, pulling you back into his arms. The act made your heart swell with adoration, and you couldn't help but to let out a quiet, fond laugh.

"What?" Sam sounded softly.

"It's nothing, Sammy. I love you."

He popped his head up and looked at you with narrowed eyes. "No, no, what is it?"

"Nothing!"

"Y/N, I swear if you don't tell me--"

"Alright, alright! It's just--" you couldn't even finish, you cut yourself off with another laugh.

"Babyyy,"

"It's just- I love it when you get so cuddly. You're like... a little koala bear."

"A koala?"

"Yeah!"

He made a face. "Koalas are kinda ugly." Then, he gasped in mock-offense, "Do you think I'm ugly?"

"No, Sam!" you laughed. "They're not ugly, and neither are you."

"I mean, they're pretty ugly."

"No, they're not! They're cute!"

You and Sam spent the next few minutes looking at 'ugly koala pictures'--as he had typed into the search bar on his phone--and you had to admit it: koala bears could be pretty foul-looking sometimes.

"So," Sam said after he'd finished proving his point and set his phone on the side table. "If I'm a koala, what does that make you? My tree?"

"Oh, so you're fine with being a koala, now?"

"Yeah, as long as you're like, my eucalyptus tree, or something."

You raised your brows in amusement. "Why do I have to be a tree?"

"Well, what else are you gonna be?"

"I don't know, maybe you koala-girlfriend?"

"Nah," he shook his head with a playful grin. "I like you better as a tree."

You poked a finger into the ticklish spot on his side, just to see him squirm. "What's that supposed to mean, huh?"

"Whatever you want it to mean, my darling eucalyptus tree. Will you pass me the remote?"

With a roll of your eyes, you dropped the remote on his chest. "What do you wanna watch?"

Moments later, a koala bear documentary popped up on the television screen.

"You think you can stay awake for a whole documentary?" you prodded, and Sam gave an annoyed huff.

"I'm not gonna fall asleep."

You knew that Sam was definitely going to fall asleep. Something about watching a movie--especially at night--always put him right out. Maybe, it was the coziness of the soft lamplight and the plush couch cushions. Or maybe, it was just being snuggled up together. It didn't matter and besides, you'd never tire of turning off whatever old, corny movie he had put on and watching your show while he dozed soundly in your arms.

"Whatever you say, koala boy."

He grumbled rather cutely for a few seconds--things like, "I'm not gonna fall asleep this time" and "that's not even a cute nickname"--before settling at your side once again with a few gentle kisses to the side of your neck. You let one of your hands move upwards and into his soft hair to rub delicately at his scalp and smiles when he voiced his appreciation with a hum.

Though you wouldn't ever admit it to Sam, the koala bear documentary was actually pretty engaging. You learned things that you never would've known about the not-so-adorable marsupial you compared your boyfriend to, such as the fact that the majority of them have chlamydia. Did you really need to know that? Probably not.

The documentary was a little more than half-way through when you began to assume that your Sammy had fallen asleep. You hadn't heard a single word from him, not even when the narrator revealed that koala bears have incredibly small brains, and you were sure that if he were awake, he would have some more words about being called a koala. You decided to leave the documentary on, anyway, as grossly informative as it was. Maybe, you could fall asleep to the drone of the narrator's voice, too.

And, you were just beginning to feel drowsy when Sam shifted from where he had pressed himself into your side and jolted you from your spot. You resituated yourself, snuggling in close to him and resting your cheek comfortably against the top of his head. Then, he moved again, and in turn, moved you again.

"What are you doing?"

"Sorry," came his murmured reply.

"Do you want me to scoot over or something?"

He shook his head, then tightened his arms around your waist. You felt yourself beginning to relax in his hold once again, and you were so so sure you were going to doze off. Until he squirmed again, that is.

You pushed yourself up and out of his arms with an annoyed huff, "Sam, what--"

That's when you felt the brush of his cock against your thigh, half-hard and just beginning to strain against the flimsy fabric of his shorts. His brows furrowed upwards just a touch and he made a sound so pretty and so soft you almost didn't hear it. At once, your body warmed with arousal.

"Oh," you sounded, smirking a little as you watched a flush color Sam's cheeks. "What's got you all worked up, baby? It wasn't the koala thing, was it?"

"No, you sicko! Just--" he huffed. "--touch me?"

You sat up straighter, then let your hand rest on Sam's collarbone for a moment, before dragging your fingertips downwards. You moved leisurely and kept the pressure feather-light, until you reached the delightfully exposed skin of his hip. Then, toyed with the waistband of his shorts and he bucked his hips upwards, as if to plead with you. So, you tore your hand away.

"Come on, baby," he whined. "Don't tease."

"Don't whine," you countered with a chuckle. "I've hardly even touched you."

"That's the fucking problem..." he muttered.

You rolled your eyes at his complaining. It was useless, really. He always got whatever he wanted.

Sam opened his mouth to complain even further, so you surged forward and captured his lips in a kiss before he had the chance to actually get any words out. He reached up and held your face in the palm of his hands and when he deepened the kiss with a tilt of his head, you had no choice but to follow. You basked in the moment, melting against the warmth of his fingers on your cheeks and the sweetness of his lips on yours. Sam always kissed you like he needed you; he breathed in every drift of you essence and left nothing behind.

When he broke away with a quiet gasp for air, you took the chance to slip your hands beneath his shirt and smooth them up his chest. His skin was soft and a little warm and completely addicting. You wanted to take your time and kiss every inch of it, but you knew that Sam wouldn't have the patience for that. So, you raked your blunt nails down his side and watched him shudder, just to give yourself a little rush of satisfaction.

With grabby hands, Sam tugged at your waist until you were seated in his lap.

"You're so lovely, Sammy. The sweetest man I know and the prettiest thing I've ever seen," praise feathered unrestrained from your lips. He was so lovely, and outstandingly so when he was looking up at you with sweet eyes and lips just a little swollen and parted slightly. You wanted to snap a thousand pictures of that very moment and hoard every single one of them like gold stolen from the sea.

And it just came so naturally to you to praise him. It was damn-near impossible not to voice the thoughts whenever they made themselves known. He soaked it in, too; he never denied any of what you said and always put a little quirk to his brow that said tell me more, please, if you were to see fit. And, of course, you would always acquiesce to his desire. How could you ever deny him, anyway?

"Thank you," he returned in a whisper, giving your hips a little squeeze.

"How often do you think I tell you that?"

"Every day, maybe," he answered with a shrug. "Don't stop, though."

You giggled, "I won't. Couldn't if I tried, actually."

He connected your lips again, before moving downwards and pressing soft, urgent kisses to the skin of your jaw and throat. You tilted your head, giving his lips more flesh to rove over and then, you selfishly tangled your fingers in his hair to keep him from moving from where you wanted him. He was quick to make his way to your collar bones, kissing and nipping and tugging at your top to reveal more skin to his wandering lips.

"Lemme take this off," he huffed, adorably displeased with the fact that your shirt--his shirt, actually; you'd stolen it from the dryer--was hindering him from getting what he wanted. The moment you nodded in affirmation, he tugged the garment over your head and tossed it aside. He then continued his work with an pleased hum and a playful bite to the skin just above your breast. He had always liked to mark you up a little; you didn't mind.

Before Sam could get much further than that, however, you took his face in your hand and created a distance between his lips and your chest. You slanted his chin and guided him to look at you. He stuck that plush bottom lip of his out and you chuckled. Truthfully, seeing him pout just because he couldn't kiss you was flattering, and it went straight to your head.

You spoke with a sultry edge to your tone, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Sam's ear as you did, "So, really... What's got you all needy, sweet boy?"

"You just look so pretty," he said softly, his cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. "And you're wearing my shirt, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know." You punctuated your words with a kiss to his jaw. "Do you think it looks good on me?"

"So good," he agreed, still with that pouty look on his face, as if he were trying to garner your pity, or something- how cute. "It looks better on you than it does on me."

Sam's hands began to roam, then, grabbing at your hips and your thighs and pulling you so close you might have been able to feel his heartbeat if you were to sit still enough. He blinked up at you as he voiced a request, his eyes so sweet you nearly lost your sense of control. "Ride me."

You were tempted to just take him right then and there. It would be so easy to just free his cock from his shorts, slip your panties to the side, and-- No. You forced yourself to take a steadying breath. If there was anything you loved more than indulging Sam, it was making him beg a little. You wanted to tease him some, you wanted to dangle his treat in front of his face and yank it out of reach when his fingers got too close, just to hear him whine like a spoiled brat.

"Hm," you said, dropping your fingers from his face and crossing your arms over your chest. "Ask me nicely, first."

He let out a displeased huff that had you biting back a smirk. "Please, ride me?"

"You just want me to do all the work, don't you?"

"Come on, baby," he complained. His fingers tightening their hold on you, and petulantly so. "You know I could flip you over and fuck you, right now. And you know you wouldn't have to lift a damn finger."

"Why are you asking me to ride you, then?"

He gave an over-exaggerated groan of frustration and kissed you again. After a few moments, you pulled away to speak, "It's okay, Sammy. I know it's just because you're a little pillow princess who likes being treated."

His cheeks colored and his mouth dropped open in faux-offense. "I am not!"

You laughed. "I'm not saying it like it's a bad thing." You pressed a kiss to his chin, then another to the corner of his mouth, as if to make up for your words. You weren't sorry, though, not truly. You continued on, "I love when you get all pretty and willing for me."

His eyes went a little moony then, but he didn't reply. A rush of desire swelled in your stomach, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him: under your thumb and desperate to come, though you'd barely just started.

You chose then to reach up and unclasp your bra. Sam watched with a bitten lip as you slid the straps from your shoulders and dropped the garment to the floor. Your fingers were at his waistband, next, and you were motioning for him to lift his hips and shoving his shorts down his thighs. His cock sprang free almost instantly, apparently unrestrained by anything other by the silken fabric of his bottoms. You glanced up at him with a quirked brow.

"No underwear?"

"Nah, why would I need it?"

You laughed a little as you brought your hand downwards, your fingers appreciatively stroking the skin of his inner thigh. He was so, so soft there, and the thought of leaning down and nipping at that flesh until he squirmed briefly crossed your mind. If he wasn't already so impatient, you would have. But you knew that it would be cruel to prolong his wait much further.

So, you lifted your hand back up, slowly and lightly dragging the pad of your thumb along the length of his shaft. You stopped once you reached the head, rubbing at the velvet-like skin beneath the swell for just a moment before pulling away. You were going to give him what he wanted soon enough, anyway, so why not make him just a little more desperate? In response, Sam bucked his hips and sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath.

"Stop being mean," he voiced, whiny and alluringly desolate. "I'm so hard it hurts."

"Awe, baby, I know," you cooed, rubbing at his hip as soothingly as you could while also not making any move to give him what he needed. "You've been so patient, haven't you?" He nodded at you, and you could feel your panties grow damp as you praised him, "That's right, Sammy. You've been so good for me."

He whimpered, holding your cheeks in the palms of his hands and kissing the noise right into your mouth. Those hands didn't stay still for long, however; they never did. He let them roam your body, reminding himself of every curve and revisiting the spots that made you shiver. Though a little distracted by his fervent lips and hands, you reached down and pulled your panties to the side.

"Before I sit on that lovely, needy cock of yours, I want you to tell me what you are." It wasn't a question, it was a demand, spoken with a voice as desperate as Sam's as you shifted your hips and ground your core softly against his shaft.

He laughed, shaking off his poutiness for just a moment. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Tell me," you reiterated firmly, rolling your hips once more.

"Fuck-" he huffed, his brows tipping upwards. "I'm a pillow princess- no, yours. Your princess."

"Good," you lauded, pleased with his response. And as a reward, you raised your hips and finally sank down on his cock.

His reaction was instant: a sweet moan as he tossed his head back onto the arm of the couch. You worked up to a steady pace rather quickly; no longer could you make Sam or yourself wait. His hands found their rightful place on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh their, all desperate and rough. You reveled in the sting of the pressure.

"Fuck, baby- that's it," he sputtered with a gasp.

"Yeah?" you implored with a sharp pant, your fingers grasping his chin and tilting his head so that you were facing each other. When he gazed at you with those eyes as sweet as caramel candy, you could feel your core give a pathetic throb. Why did he have to look at you like that? Like you'd hung the moon and painted the stars and breathed life into the sun? To keep yourself from faltering over the rush of adoration you felt for your lover, you continued on, "Tell me about it, sweet boy. I wanna know just how good I'm making you feel."

"Feels so fucking good. You're so tight- and soft. So soft and warm. Like-" he cut himself off with a sob as you began to move your hips at a punishing pace. You couldn't fucking take it, anymore. You needed to make him come, perhaps more than you even wanted to come yourself. He began to moan in earnest, then, depraved sounds broken by curses and sharp intakes of breath.

You knew he had to be close. He was shaking and he couldn't even keep his eyes open, even as you planted your palm at the base of his throat and requested he keep his gaze on you. And his cheeks were so red, too- Fuck, you were close, you could feel it rising inside of you sooner than you would have expected it. Well, you supposed you should've expected it. Sam just had that unbelievable, irreversible effect on you.

"I need-" he panted brokenly, his hands moving to claw at your ass and pull you in closer. "Harder, sweetheart. Please- need it harder."

Without a word, you complied, rising and falling and grinding with an increased force. Your thighs were burning and you knew your skin had a sheen of sweat, but it didn't matter. The only thing you could think about was Sam: the warmth of his fingers on your skin, the debauched sounds tumbling from his lips, and the furrow of his brow as he came with hardly any warning.

The sensation of it warmed you to your core, and your slowed your heavy movements to just slow, steady rolls of your hips, aiming to hit that electric spot deep inside. You knew you weren't going to last much longer- he fit you so well. Every pronounced ridge of his pretty cock rubbed against your walls so pleasingly that it was enough to drive you mad.

"You were fucking made for this," you voiced raggedly. "Made for me."

"Uh-huh," he whined in agreement.

You moaned, your head falling forward as warm sparks began to shoot up your spine and dance along the tips of your fingers and your toes. "I'm so close."

"Come, baby. Need it- it's too much, please."

"Get me there, Sammy," you urged brokenly.

Sam's fingers tightened around you with a force, then, as he flexed his thighs and plunged into you. He looked like the most divine picture of beauty beneath you, with his hair all strewn about and his lips parted ever so slightly. It was that, alongside his sweet pleas, that made you come undone with a gasp and a curse.

You worked yourself through it, slowly and surely coming to a stop. Your breath was coming in heaves; you couldn't help it. You noticed that Sam's fingers had ceased up on their relentless hold, and were instead lovingly stroking at your hips.

"That was so good, baby," he murmured. "Always so good."

With a flush on your cheeks, you leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to his plush lips. When you parted, you replied, "So are you, my love."

Smiling, Sam glanced over to the television, only for his brows to furrow. "What the fuck?"

"What?" you pulled away, confused.

"That stupid koala documentary is still going!"

You looked over and sure enough, the koala bear documentary was still playing, and seemed to be nowhere near its end. You smirked. "Do you wanna finish it?"

"Nope," Sam replied with a pop on the 'p', sitting up and jostling you from where you were still sat in his lap. "I just put that on so I could fall asleep."

"I knew it!"

#greta van fleet #greta van smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #sam kiszka #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka fic #sam kizka x you #sam kiszka x reader #gvf #danny wagner #jake kiszka #josh kiszka

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aflame4goinghome · 5 months ago

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Kay’s Fic Recs !

i wanted to update my fic recs from last year, so here it is 🥰

all of these fics are 18+ and contain smut! read at your own discretion ;)

Josh:

- The Art of Life by @gvfgal

- Brightest Blue by @garbagevanfleet

- Valtava by @gretavanlace

- Picket Fence Dreams by @josiee-gvf

- The Meditation Room by @fleet-of-fiction

- Champagne & Fireworks by @sacredjake & @gold-mines-melting

Jake:

- Mine by @gretavanstink

- Covet by @jakeyt

- Le Morte D’Arthur by @joshym

- Cream & Sugar by @sacredthefran

- Sémillante by @profitofthedune

- The Red Medallion by @earthlysorrows

- Capital Vices by @builtbybrokenbells

- Pedagogue by @profitofthedune

- Mirror of the Damned by @alwaysonthemend

- Heartbreak Hot Seat by @builtbybrokenbells

- Poolsides and Pizza Boxes by @builtbybrokenbells

- Little Miss Sunshine by @builtbybrokenbells

- Imber by @gretavangroupie

Sam:

- Pink Lemonade by @garbagevanfleet

- Seven by @garbagevanfleet

- How I’m Imagining You by @geminisecrets

- Lucky by @gretavangroupie

- Talk by @ageofhearingloss

- Locked Out by @sparrowofthedawnsworld

Danny:

- Little Bird by @gretavanlace

- Time of the Season by @devilathedoor

**apparently i’m in need of danny fic recs myself, so send them my way!!

Twins:

- Poppins by @gretavanlace

- Kismet by @gretavangroupie & @sacredstarcatcher

- Down The Hall by @milkgemini

Forbidden Twins:

- Vigilance by @gretavangroupie & @gretavanmoon

- A Beautiful Riff by @sparrowofthedawnsworld

- Cruel Summer by @sacredstarcatcher

Janny:

- Valor by @gretavangroupie & @gretavanmoon

- Guilty Pleasures by @builtbybrokenbells

- Sweet Little Toy by @gretavanlace

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anthemofgvf · 5 months ago

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Teacher’s Pet: Sam Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

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

word count: 6.6k+

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

taglist for future fics

warnings after cut…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And somehow, he had predicted the future.

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, yeah I did." You nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sam," you barely voiced.

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

"Sam." You repeated for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shuddered, and quickly swallowed and nodded at him.

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

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

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

"Are you okay to keep going?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

taglist:

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

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pattypanini · 2 months ago

Text

Sam Kiszka x Reader Temptations

Summary: After a concert with your shitty boyfriend, a trip backstage with Sam doesn't seem too bad?

Word Count: 7.5k

Taglist for Oneshots

A/N: First off, we are veryyyy sorry. Marley and I have had the busiest summers everrr. But we are back at school! Which means we can grind on this tumblr account again! We started this during the summer and just have now finished it, along with LAYLOM and many more one shots which we plan on posting. We hope you take this one shot as an apology. Expect more to come very soon!!!! Love, Sam and Marley <3

Warnings: 18+, Slight cheating (this will not be for everyone) SMUT, penetrative sex, fingering, degrading, hickeys, dirty talk, slight submissive/dom, flirting, slapping, mentions of pregnancy, slight coercion.

PRECEDE WITH CAUTION. THIS IS NOT FOR EVERYONE!

Y/N's POV

It was your boyfriend’s idea to go out tonight. He said something about “being in a new city and having to hit up all the hot spots”. But you couldn’t really care less. You were more excited about the concert you two would be attending tomorrow. But him being the sweetest boy he is, you caved and somehow ended up in this random bar in Charleston.

You are sitting beside your boyfriend, Lucas, at the barstools lining the bar sipping on a margarita. You fiddle with the hem of your floral sundress, just barely paying attention to Lucas’s aimless chatter. You weren’t bored per say, but you’d rather be cuddled up in the hotel room watching some cheesy movie.

“You excited for the concert tomorrow?” Lucas asks after taking a sip of his beer, a smile plastered across his tanned face. He runs his hand through his chestnut hair, gorgeous blue eyes piercing right through you. Man, are you lucky. Even after a rocky year and a half this man still somehow manages to give you butterflies.

“Of course I am. I have been looking forward to it for the past six months.” Six excruciatingly long months of waiting. You take another sip of your drink before continuing, “Thank you for buying the tickets, honey.” You smile at him, reaching your hand out to rub his arm.

He had purchased the tickets as an anniversary gift, and it was arguably one of the best presents you had ever received, seeing that most of his gifts were half-assed. He knew how much you loved Greta Van Fleet and was thoughtful enough to get tickets as soon as they went on sale.

“Of course baby. Anything for the best girl in the world. I’m super pumped too ya know.” He lifts your hand off of his arm, bringing it to his mouth to place a light kiss on it. He places it back down on your thigh, his hand lingering on yours.

You give him a look of warning, but he still proceeds trailing his hand up your inner thigh.

“Lucas, come on. We’re in public, have some decency.” You peel his hand off of you, placing it back in his own lap.

“Stop being such a bitch, can’t you ever have fun?” He snaps back with a roll of his eyes.

You shrug off his hostile words, because it was nothing you weren’t used to. A few minutes pass by, neither of you talking to the other.

You’re starting to get a little hungry, so you convince Lucas to order some appetizers. You both decide on some mozzarella sticks and fried pickles. As he is grabbing the bartender's attention, you hear the door open.

It wasn’t a super busy bar, you always tried to find little hidden gems in the area and this was one of them. As the door opens, four very familiar looking men come walking through the door.

Holy shit.

Greta Van Fleet is walking into the bar you are in, and no one even knows who they are. They make their way to the bar and not a single person bats an eye. You blink a few times just to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Nope, not deceiving.

You stare off into space, trying to stay calm about the situation at hand but you are quickly caught.

“Y/n. Y/n? Are you listening?” Waving his hand in front of your face.

You snap yourself out of your trance. “Yeah. Yeah, it's just uh… I think Greta Van Fleet just walked in.” His eyes widen as he whips around in the barstool to look over his shoulder.

“That's definitely them babe, go over say something.”

“No no no, I am not doing that. They probably don’t want to be bothered” You shake your head.

Lucas smiles at you, knowing how nervous you are just being in the same room as them.

“What if I go with you?” He reaches to his left, grabbing your hands in his.

“Okay fine, but you have to stay with me.” You stand up from the bar seat, feeling as if you could fall over at any moment. Your shaky legs start making their way over to them, you can hear Lucas’s steps from behind you.

They are within six feet now, your heart is pounding in your chest. Now or never. You decide to approach Sam first considering he looked to be the one least occupied.

“Hey, you’re Sam from Greta Van Fleet.” Your mouth somehow forms the words.

Sam turns towards you, giving you a slow look up and down before saying a thing, but his body said so much. “I am, you can call me Sammy though, beautiful. What’s your name?”

“Um, Y/n.” You were feeling your cheeks burn hotter and hotter with each second passing. Beautiful? What the actual fuck.

“Ah, nice to meet you y/n, and what’s your brother's name?”

“Oh, uh, he’s my boyfriend. This is Lucas.” Lucas reaches his hand out to shake Sam’s, and Sam returns with a weak, uninterested shake back.

“Ha, well I assumed you were related, seeing that you look similar.” You’ve never gotten that one before. “I mean you would have gotten the good genes if it was true.” What is up with this guy?

“So are you from around here?” He looks directly at you, only wanting your answer.

“No, we're not, we're from Virginia. We’re just visiting for the concert actually.” You smile, feeling bashful that you’re talking to the Sam Kiszka right now.

“Ohh, that’s awesome. Hey boys, this lovely lady is going to be at our concert tomorrow.” He says to the rest of them, pointing at you. Lucas is still awkwardly standing behind you.

“How wonderful, where will you be sitting?” Josh asks, reaching out to softly shake your hand.

“Well we won’t be on the floor, if it was up to me we would be but Lucas got the tickets for our anniversary. But we're still pretty close, on the left third row up.”

“Jeez man can’t even get her closer seats.” Sam says under his breath, which is quickly shut down when Jake elbows him for his spoiled behavior.

Lucas just laughs at what he thinks is a joke. Poor boy, how stupid and clueless.

“Oh babe I think the appetizers are coming soon, I’ll go wait for them. As long as you are okay with that?” Lucas reaches for your hand, making sure you are calm and comfortable.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good I’ll be over soon.” You smile at him as he makes his way back over. Sam on the other hand was staring him down as he made his way back to the other side of the bar.

You didn’t know what to say to any of them, you’ve dreamed of a moment like this but now that it’s actually happening you don’t know what to say.

“Um, am I able to get a picture with all of you, this is like crazy to me.” They all nod and smile and you ask the bartender to take your picture. The boys push you to the middle, surrounding you. Sam stands directly to your left, and Jake to your right, while Josh and Danny stand on both ends.

Jake places a hand on your shoulder, pulling you in. As the bartender is about to take the picture Sam places a hand around your waist, pulling you in his way.

You feel a rush of butterflies fly through your stomach as you feel his fingers press harder into your side. After a few photos everyone disperses and takes their seat. You wanted to leave them be but also wanted to stay around a little longer.

“Hey Sam, do you think I could get a photo with just you? I don’t like picking favorites but…,” you bring your hand up to his ear as if you were telling him a dirty little secret, whispering,” …you're definitely mine.”

With a smirk plastered across his face he stands back up grabbing the phone and handing it to Josh.

Just like before his large hands make its way back to the familiar spot it just was on. You lean into him, trying to look as natural as possible. After a short moment of Josh taking at least 20 photos he hands you back your phone, but Sam never lets you out of his grip. Instead he pulls you closer, his face next to your ear.

“I wanna see you after the concert tomorrow, got it?” You didn’t know what to say, you stared at him thinking that you misheard. “Now go back to your ‘boyfriend’ and let him think you're his for one more night.” Sam releases his grip, sending you off with a smile and wave.

What? Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, not sure what to think about everything that happened in the span of only 10 minutes. You shakily walk back over to Lucas where he and your appetizers were waiting.

“So how was it? I know you didn’t want me to leave but you looked awfully comfortable over there.” Taking a bite of the mozzarella sticks, he's now scowling at you.

“It was awesome! I talked to all of them and got some pictures.” You pull your phone out showing him the group photo you took, leaving your one on one photo with Sam out of the conversation.

“Wow that's so cool, babe.” He is barely listening, sounding like he's never been more bored in his life.

“So cool,” you think in your head about how you want to bring up the fact that you were asked backstage. “Oh and Sam said he wants to see me after the concert.”

“Oh wow babe, maybe he’ll wanna talk to us and we can get some autographs.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You stirred your drink thinking about the events of tonight. Your heart still palpitating from the unexpected interaction from only moments ago. Much has happened on your trip to Charleston, and it has barely just begun.

—

You stand in the foggy bathroom of the hotel room you and Lucas were staying in for the weekend. It’s a nice, clean hotel room, nothing super spectacular though. But you didn’t mind. You take a long everything shower and are feeling ready for the night.

You slip on your tight black dress, wrapping your silver belt around your waist. You decide to do your hair next, opting for some simple curls. You do a bold, glittery silver makeup look. You finally tug on your black heeled boots. You begin to walk out of the bathroom, but then remember you didn’t put any perfume on. You go back into the bathroom to spray a generous amount onto your body, ya know, just in case.

You knew it was silly to think that anything would even happen between the two of you , but it’s every girl's dream. And maybe it’s bad to think while having a boyfriend but, who wouldn’t have a one night stand with one of the boys, right? It’s like a hall pass.

You rush out to the main room, not wanting to be late. Lucas is already sitting on the bed waiting for you. You grab a small bag with the necessities and check yourself over in the mirror.

You can see Lucas’s reflection in the mirror, his gaze solely focused on your ass and how it fits in your dress. “Damn, babygirl. You look smokin’.”

“Thanks babe, we should probably get going. I don't want to be late.” You begin to walk over to the door to leave, but Lucas is still sitting on the bed. “Ya coming?” You question him, god he can be so fucking annoying sometimes.

“I mean we won’t be too late, why don’t you come back over?” He smirks, patting on the bed.

“No Lucas, come on. I want to go.” You cross your arms in front of you, waiting for him.

“God you’re so fucking insufferable sometimes y/n. A guy can’t even get fucking laid?.” Lucas pushes off the bed and grabs the keys.

Lucas was very sexually driven. He always was. You both met on Tinder and all it was supposed to be was a one night stand, but it slowly turned into more. And while you loved him for how sweet he was, there was always the other side of him that you wish didn't exist.

“Okay Lucas, whatever. Be angry that I don’t want to have fucking sex with you right now when we have somewhere to be.” You roll your eyes and roughly pull open the door leading out to the hall.

—

After what felt like the longest drive ever, filled with silence and anger, you make it to the arena. Lucas went straight to his seat while you made your way to the merch stand. You tried to go as long as you could without having to be with him. When you heard music start to play you quickly rushed to your seat to watch the openers.

Your seats were good, you could see the stage perfectly. After the openers finish up, you wait anxiously in your seat for Greta to come on. You find it hard to believe you’re about to see Sam again and you wonder if he would be able to see you too. You hope he did. You also hope that he will remember what he said last night at the bar. But knowing how busy their lives are, your hope of meeting him backstage was feeling less of a reality.

You hear the orchestra music begin to lull and you know they are coming on any minute now. The moment of tension between you and Lucas subsides, and you both begin to feel the excitement.

The crowd is cheering so loudly you think your eardrums might burst. The curtain falls and suddenly there stands the man you were in a scandalous conversation with.

The boys take their places on stage and the opening notes ring throughout the arena. You couldn’t believe how close you are to him. You knew the seats were close but this is closer than you thought.

There was a perfect view of Sam’s side profile. His perfect side profile, perfect body, perfect hair, perfect fucking everything. After all the attention you had got from Sam last night you were feeling jealous of the girls closer to him. At some points you had forgotten that Lucas was even with you, until you felt his hand snake around you making you feel strange.

You gently shrug his hand off of you, wanting to dance and sing along without him being all over you. He immediately makes a sour face accompanied with a disbelieving scowl. He takes a large gulp of his beer, deciding to finally mind his own business. Your gaze travels right back to Sam, his hair now a little damp from his sweat.

He looks over at your section and you swear he gives you a flirty, little wink. Sure, maybe you are being a tad delusional but he does know where you are sitting and last night he was being quite cheeky with you.

As the show went on you shared more than a few glances, some lasting more than expected, and because of that someone was getting very jealous. Everytime Sam would look at you Lucas would roll his eyes and take a big swig of his drink. But you didn’t care, you were too in the moment to realize.

As the show comes to an end, you take your seat, not knowing if you should leave. I mean sure Sam said he wanted to see you again, but he could just be saying that to everyone. But you couldn’t lose the opportunity.

Lucas finishes his drink and digs the keys out of his pocket. “Alright let's go y/n, I couldn’t have you before the show but I sure as hell can after.” He says giving you a flirty look.

“Um Lucas, don’t you remember? Sam wanted to take me backstage. I can’t miss this opportunity.” You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh my god y/n give me a break. He’s not going to do that, and even if he did I wouldn’t let you. Not after all the looks you were giving him.”

“So what I’m gathering from that is you don’t trust me?!” You furrow your eyebrows at him in pure anger. You had tried your best all night to suppress your irritation, but now he was working on your last nerve.

“That’s not what I-” He starts.

“Just save it. You’ve been acting like an ass to me all night. I was just trying to enjoy the concert. Besides, this is a fucking anniversary present anyway and you’re treating me like I’m a child.”

“Excuse me ma'am.” You hear a voice come from the floor down below you. A large man in a security shirt looks up to you and Lucas. “Sam Kiszka asked to see you backstage if you are willing to follow me.”

“Omg yes definitely-” You start before you’re interrupted.

“No, y/n, you are not going.” Lucas cuts you off before you could say anymore, while grabbing onto your arm rather forcefully.

“Um yes I am. This is once in a lifetime Lucas, I won’t let you ruin this for me just because you're jealous and wanna go home to get your dick sucked. You can go, I'll get an Uber back to the hotel.” You grab your bag and begin to make your way to the stairs before you're grabbed again.

“You think you’re gonna be with him all night or something? Honestly go ahead y/n. Go fuck him, you obviously want to be with him more than me tonight. I should have known you were such a bitch.” He begins to walk away and towards the exit and you just let him. He just couldn’t stand being happy for you.

You’d have a conversation with Lucas at some point, but you are a little more focused on the fact that Sam Kiszka is waiting for you backstage currently.

You turn to face the security guy with an apologetic look, “I’m so sorry about him. I’d love to go backstage.” You give him a sweet smile in which he returns.

“No problem, ma’am. Follow me right this way.” He leads you down the steps onto the floor and walks you to the back of the stage. The nerves were building up as was the anticipation of seeing Sam again. And he requested to see you.

You walk past all the backstage workers beginning to pack up the stage equipment, not a trace of any Greta Van Fleet member. You still find it hard to believe this was even happening right now, and who knows what's going to happen when you reach Sam. The fact you just had a severe argument with your boyfriend only minutes ago, and not even knowing where the two of you stood at the moment, complicated things even more.

The security guard stops just short of a black door, labeled with the name Sam Kiszka.”Feel free to knock on the door ma’am, he's just inside.” He points in the direction of the door, smiles, and then turns to walk away. He didn’t even give you a chance to thank him, before he was out of sight. You’re left alone now, in front of Sam’s door. You take a deep breath trying to steady yourself before you knock.

You feel your hand shake as you bring your fist to the door, rapping your knuckles against it. After a few moments you hear the door knob jiggle. Oh my god. There he is, again.

His body still glistening with sweat as he opens the door for you, smirking looking down at you. He plops down onto the couch in the corner, patting the cushion next to him. “Sit down babydoll, I wanna hear your thoughts.” You take a seat beside him. He drapes his arms across the back of the couch, brushing your hair in the process.

“Um It was really good. It was hard to take my eyes off you, you did amazing.” You realize his gaze on you, making you nervous and shift in your seat.

“I’m so happy you liked it.” Taking a piece of your hair, and twirling it in his fingers. “So what about, hm Linus? Luke, I don't care to remember. Where is he?”

“Oh Lucas, well he wasn’t invited back, which is fine he understands. Well…not really, but it’s fine. He’s been a real dick all night anyways so the time away from him is good.” You feel the anger rising back up again just from the simple thought of Lucas right now.

“He’s no good for you babydoll, you need someone to treat you right. Make you feel good, make you happy.” His hand that was once gently intertwined in your hair is now grasped around the back of your neck.

You shift to face him.“Do I? And who do you suppose could do that for me?” He is so fucking bold, and apparently so were you with this newfound confidence.

“Look right in front of you babe.” His lips form a straight line, his eyebrows practically raised to his hairline.

“Sam, I have a boyfriend.” The devil on your shoulder is so badly telling you to give into him.

“And? I’m so much better than him y/n, open your eyes. Like seriously, what does he have that I don’t, because it doesn’t seem like much. Last time I checked he wasn’t a musician in a popular rock band who also happens to be a millionaire.”

Such a cocky fucking man. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.

“Well he pays for our rent, makes dinner once a week...lots of stuff.” You are trying to convince yourself. It's not really working.

“Baby, if you were mine you’d have your own house, never cook another day in your life, and have anything you fucking want.” His eyes were staring right into yours, he looked��serious? Fuck, why universe do you have to make things so goddamn difficult.

“Maybe I don’t care about the money, I care about the love. Could you even do that?”

Sam stares at you, deciding his answer in his own head. “How would you feel if I kissed you, then you can decide if I ‘love’ the way you want babydoll.”

“Well I wouldn’t feel a thing because I wholeheartedly love my boyfriend.”

Are you really going to do this right now? Cheat on your boyfriend. You’ve never been a cheater, why start now? Maybe it’s because Sam Kiszka hasn’t been begging for your attention before.

His grip around the back of your neck tightens to bring you closer to him, your lips only a few inches apart. You stay like that for a few seconds but it feels like hours with the need for him pulsing through you.

Before you knew it his lips quickly attached to yours, his lips were so soft and plump. He pulls away to look at you. “Feel anything?” He questions with a cocky ass look on his face. His stupid, pretty face.

“I wish I could tell you I did, but I didn’t.” You were most definitely lying, trying to convince yourself that there was nothing there. You felt guilty, but that guilt was being covered by the lust filling the air. The need for Sam was far too powerful, you didn’t want anyone else.

Next thing you know your lips are back on his, this time with more urgency. You lean further into him as his tongue teases at your lips, begging for entrance. You part your lips for him allowing his tongue to slide against yours. Your hands make their way to the back of his head, lightly tugging at his coffee colored hair.

A light moan slips from your mouth at the feeling of his lips against yours, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Sam.

“You’re such a bad liar. You can keep saying you don’t feel anything but your body can’t lie baby.” His hands trail down your body making you shiver. “So touched starved. Lucas doesn’t do anything to you does he? Surely he doesn’t please you the way you want, huh? I could do so much better for you babydoll.”

“Not recently. I mean he’s always begging for it and I usually give in but it always sucks. It’s half assed and always for his pleasure. He’s sweet sometimes but all he ever thinks about is sex. It’s hard to see the good in a relationship when the bad outweighs the good.”

Sam’s hands rub up and down your thighs, giving you comfort in the moment.

“I mean even today he tried to fuck right before we left and when I was about to come back here he was arguing about going back and fucking then, like god if you’re going to insist on fucking all the time at least make it decent.” You realized how loud and aggressive you had gotten during your one sided conversation. “I’m sorry that’s probably more than you wanted to know.”

“No, it's all good babydoll. I could tell you didn’t like him all that much at the bar. But I could tell how much you were feeling up on me.” Smirking at you. If you were trying to have a serious conversation with Lucas and he did that you’d probably smack him, but when Sam does it, it turns you on. “You can act like you're not feeling it, but I can tell.” Before you can register, you're being brought up onto Sam’s lap, straddling him on the couch.

“Y/n, I’ll treat you so right babygirl. With me, you’d never have to worry about anything ever again.” His hands are trailing up and down over your ass, you instinctively grind down into his lap. Sam sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. “Goddamn, if you keep that up I’ll cum in my fucking pants.”

“Mmm, that would be kinda fun, wouldn’t it? Ya know…if I made you cum in your pants.” You smirk at him as you grind your hips again.

“Stop teasing.” He hisses through his teeth, grabbing at your hips to still them.

“Fine, I won’t.” You get off his lap, kneeling in front of him and unzip his jeans. Sam’s hands connect to your hair as you release him from his jeans, only his boxers hiding his cock from your sight. Before you could fully make your way off the floor Sam was ripping off your belt and pulling your dress above your head.

You feel the cold air hit your now bare chest, your nipples instantly hardening. You can sense Sam’s eyes on you and you finally look up to meet his gaze.

“Well, well, well. Would you look at that?” His eyes scan over your chest as you settle yourself back down on his lap.

“Like what you see?” You challenge him, leaning over so your tits are directly in front of his face.

His hands reach down to the waistband of his boxers and swiftly pull them down. His cock slaps against his stomach and you can feel the saliva collecting in your mouth, you have to physically stop yourself from drooling. “I don’t know, you tell me.” His voice is low and husky, he’s incredibly turned on. You can tell because his cock looks like it's practically aching, a bead of precum collecting on his swollen tip.

Almost subconsciously you begin to make your way down onto your knees, but before you could take him in he grabs a chunk of your hair, pulling you up to meet his gaze. “Oh no honey that's not how this works. I don’t know what Lucas makes you do but you come first, in more than one way.”

“But… I want to…” You look at him like a lost puppy, you were taken off guard. I mean, yeah, you were used to sucking Lucas’s dick with nothing in return, that’s all you’ve known for the past year and a half, why would you expect anything different now.

“Well maybe I wanna please you y/n. Just accept that babydoll, not everyone is as selfish as him.” He leans forward on the couch taking your hips into his hands pulling you closer to him.

His lips graze over your stomach leaving soft, feather light kisses. Your hands travel to the back of his head to clutch onto his long hair.

“Lay down on the couch for me, peach.” He looks up at you from his sitting position, his eyes darkened and lust-filled. You immediately obey him, finally allowing yourself to give into his ministrations. Taking a seat on the couch, Sam gently pushes you down, your back hitting the leather cushions.

Your body laid out for him, completely vulnerable. He hovers himself over you, mouth connecting to your neck and leaving light kisses down to the top of your tits. “Can I leave marks, let Lucas know whose you are?”

“You’re implying that I'm yours, Sammy?” You smirk at him, running your hands up and down his bare chest.

“Oh peach, you’ve been mine from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He leans down to place a kiss on your lips.

You immediately melt into him, his lips so soft and plump. Your hands wrap around his neck pulling him down closer, bringing his hips flush with yours. He deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing at your lips begging for entrance. You part your lips allowing his tongue to slide across yours.

A tiny moan escapes from your mouth, causing Sam to pull away. “Fuck, those little noises you’re making are so pretty baby. Keep doing it and I’m gonna fuck you straight out of your relationship.”

“Do it, fuck me so hard I forget about my stupid boyfriend.” Your hands scratch at his scalp and gently pull at the strands of his long hair. “Sammy…”

“What peach?” He lightly drags his hand up the curve of your hip and over your waist to grab at your tits.

You look over at the vanity mirror against the wall, in the corner of the room. “I…” You trail off, lost in space, letting your imagination run wild with all the possibilities. “I need you to fuck me over by that mirror.”

He follows your line of sight, a smirk appearing on his face once he realizes. “What a dirty girl. Fine, you wanna act like a slut, you’ll get fucked like a slut too.” Before you could register what was happening Sam grabbed your hand and brought you to the vanity.

Sam pushed you face down onto the counter, bringing you close to the mirror. Sam’s hands grab onto your ass, watching as your face distorted in pain.

His hands linger on the waistband of your panties. His fingers slip under the fabric and release with a harsh snap against your skin. “Fuck…” You squeak out.

“Mmm, the prettiest peach. But, I think these need to come off,” He says, rubbing his large hand over your ass cheek before tugging down your underwear, letting them pool at your feet. “That’s much better, I need to see my girl completely when I fuck her.”

Sam’s fingers drag over your slit, feeling your pool of wetness. “Damn baby, who got you like this.” Whispering into your ear. “It wasn’t Lucas, was it?” He grabs your chin, forcing eye contact in the mirror. “Was it?” You watch his reflection as his jaw clenches.

“No Sam, it was you, only you.” You practically whimper out. God, you were a mess for this man.

Sam grins, feeling proud of what he caused. “Good, now I think I need to get a taste before you’re not able to hold yourself up.”

Sam kneels behind you to become eye level with your cunt. His eyes rake over your slick folds as he lets out a low groan. “Fuck, peach. Can’t believe all of this is for me.” His fingers lightly play with your folds before you feel his tongue lick a slow, long stripe up your pussy.

“Shit…” You huff out, his warm tongue taking you by surprise. He continues on with a few more licks up your slit, before he pulls away.

“Aw, someone liked that. You that deprived baby? Lucas not know how to please a woman like you? I mean he’s just a boy after all, you need a real man, like me.” He chuckles a little at his own words. You can feel the anger starting to boil.

You whip your head around causing him to fall back onto his hands. “Stop fucking bringing him up.” You spit at him. “I don’t give a shit about him and I’ve been dreading the fact I have to go back to that hotel room when his asshole self is there.”

“Feisty little thing aren't you?” He smirks up at you, nothing but pure enjoyment plastered across his face. “You’re quite cute when you’re angry, peach.” Sam pushes your hair behind your ear. “Plus what makes you think you have to go back to him. I'm all yours.” He smiles sweetly at you. A moment of silence passes.

“Sam just shut your goddamn mouth for once.” You shoot him a venomous glare. “Fuck me. Right. Now. I can’t wait any longer.” Maybe you were begging, but you couldn’t care less you were drunk off this man.

You see Sam rise from his knees in the mirror to stand behind you. He leans over to whisper in your ear, “You’re going to regret speaking to me like that, peach.”

“Am I? That’s funny. I’m just wondering why your dick still isn’t inside of me.” You make eye contact with him through the reflection, you narrow your eyes at him. “You know what… maybe I’ll go get Danny to finish the job.” You turn around to start walking away before Sam grabs around your waist.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He presses a wet kiss to the side of your neck. “Danny is…preoccupied right now anyway.”

He pulls your body back over to the vanity, his hand flattening itself over your back to push your face back down onto the cool counter.

He leans down, his lips right against your ear, “Besides, you’ll never want another man after I’m finished with you.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Jake actually seems like he would be amazing in bed. More mature. More experienced. Yeah, maybe you’ve fucked a lot of girls but was it even good anyway?”

“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut you up with my cock.” His cheeks are flushed red, your bodies radiating so much heat.

“Maybe, I want that.”

“Slut.” Without warning, he is slamming his cock inside of you giving you little time to adjust. “You wanna act like you can take me, then take me. Take me like the slut you are.”

Sam pumps in and out of you, slowly getting you used to his large cock.

“Holy shit Sam, you’re so big.” You grab onto the sides of the vanity, attempting to steady yourself.

“I’m sure it feels huge compared to whatever you’re used to.” He laughs under his breath, and you immediately turn around and stand up to face him.

Your jaw clenches before you’re absolutely laying into him. Your faces are only inches apart. “What did I tell you about bringing his goddamn name up. I don’t want to fucking think about him you asshole.”

“Well, I mean… I didn’t say his name.” He smirks and that’s exactly what sends you over the edge. Your hands land on his chest pushing him backwards. He stumbles back, landing in a seating position on the couch, looking up at you in awe.

“If you keep testing me you’re not going to find me so peachy anymore.” You warn, your body looming over him. You begin to straddle him, lining him up with your core. “Now let’s see if you can handle me Sammy.”

You lower yourself down on him, his hands instinctively grasp at your hips to guide you.

“Fuck y/n, you’re so tight. Shit-” You squeeze around him, causing his grip to tighten on you. A hiss slips passed his lips and before you know it he’s meeting you halfway, thrusting up into you.

His hands travel up your sides to caress your tits. He takes your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, rolling it in the most delicious way. Your head falls back, but you continue to grind against him. “Sammy…”

“What peach?” He sounds breathless and completely fucked out.

“You feel so incredible. The- shit. The… fucking best I’ve ever had.” You pant out, your hands grasping at his hair.

“I don’t doubt that peach.” Smirking, looking deep into your soul.

You grab a chunk of his hair, exposing his neck. “You’re acting pretty fucking cocky for not doing much yet Sammy. I don’t even feel close yet, I could go for hours.

“You’ll be going for hours whether you come or not baby.” He says, grabbing your hair exposing your neck, leaving a deep purple mark on the side of your neck.

“God…” You moan out, causing him to smirk. He peels you off of him and next thing you know he's roughly flipping you onto your back.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, y/n.” He hovers over your body, his dick in hand pumping frantically.

“Put it back in, Sammy.” You whine out in the most despairing tone.

“Fuck peach, you’re desperate for me.” He smirks down at you clearly enjoying the situation you two are in. “I know how bad you want it, you gotta beg for it though. Show me how bad you want it.” He begins dragging his cock through your folds, staring deep into your eyes.

The only thing that manages to come out of your mouth is a high-pitched moan.

“That won’t cut it, peach, use your goddamn words.” He slaps his dick against your pussy, causing your body to squirm. He reaches his free hand out to drag down your body landing on your hip. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You know you want this cock so bad, just give it up.”

You roll your eyes at him, but then your eyes trail down to his rock hard length resting in his hand. You have to physically stop yourself from drooling. And as if you couldn’t get any wetter you feel another rush of wetness coat your pussy.

“I think you want it just as bad as I do Sam, so why don’t you just give it up?” Reaching down, smearing the pre-cum from his tip onto your thumb, and bringing it to your mouth.

His breath hitches and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. He spreads your legs further apart, your one leg now draped along the back of the couch, centering himself in between your legs, gently sliding himself into you yet again.

You both let out a sigh of relief. You can’t help but chuckle a little.

“Why are you laughing peach?” He asks you but still continues on with his slow yet deep thrusts.

“Just find it funny how you wanted me to beg so bad, but you’re the one that ended up caving first.” You whimper out.

Before getting another word out, a swift slap is delivered across your cheek. “I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you, got it?” He says through gritted teeth, with a dark glare that could stop anyone in their tracks. His large veiny hand covers your mouth before Sam completely demolishes your pussy.

He attacks hard and fast, giving you no time to get comfortable. After a few minutes, Sam’s movements start to get sloppy.

“Fuck, I’m so close peach. Shit, so so tight, fuck. So pretty mama. Prettiest fucking pussy.” His eyes are screwed shut and you can’t help but admire him.l

You knew he wasn’t lying from the nonsense leaving his mouth.

You grab his wrist, pulling his hand off your mouth. “Cum in me Sammy, I’m on the pill. Get me pregnant for all I care.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t mind that. You being my baby mama.” His breath hitches and you can tell he’s right there.

“Cum for me Sam, I know you want to cum in my tight pussy, just give it to me.” You squeeze around him and that is his breaking point.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m coming- shit.” He is drilling into you and before you know it you’re feeling his hot liquid flood your pussy. “Take it y/n, take it all…” After he comes down, he finishes off with a few more thrusts. Sam holds himself up on the couch before pulling himself out.

You were so close, but you weren’t able to finish in time.

“That was so fucking good y/n.”

“I’m sure it was.” Still you lay there unsatisfied.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well I’m sure it would feel good, you know, if I would have came.” Sam’s face turns bright red, feeling embarrassed.

“I thought- well, I figured…”

“Sam” you cut him off. “Finish the job, or I’ll assume what I did when I first walked in here, that you’re all talk and no game.”

Before you could say anything more, Sam pries your legs open, exposing his cum dripping down your folds. Sam inserts his fingers, curling upward to reach your g-spot.

“Oh fuck Sam, right there. Fuck your cum back into me.”

“Yeah I’m sure you would like that. Better chance of getting you pregnant, right?” He adds his thumb, swirling circles onto your clit.

Your body is thrashing around at this point, your hands searching for anything to grab onto, ultimately landing in Sam’s hair again.

You tug harshly on his dark brown locks and immediately you see the results of your actions. Sam’s eyes roll back into his head, “Fuck, you wanna try and make me cum again or something.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t mind that.” You smile up at him.

You look right at Sam as he bites his plump bottom lip. “You're close.”

“H-how do you know that?” You grip tighter on his hair.

“I feel you squeezing my fingers Peach, I’m very familiar with the way women react to me when they’re close.” He drives his thick fingers even deeper and you are nearing your end, exactly as he expected.

“I feel so fucking good, I could almost-” You trail off, your orgasm overtaking you.

“You could almost, what?”

You feel the intense buildup, before the euphoric release. Small spurts of your juices cover Sam’s hand and splashes up onto his chest. “Oh God.” You don’t realize your grip on Sam’s hair until you come back down, but he doesn’t even seem to mind. His eyes were full of pure admiration.

“Holy shit, y/n. That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He pulls you up to straddle his lap, resting your head on his sweat glistening chest.

“I could say the same thing about you.”

You feel a feeling of euphoria, but now without the distraction you’re feeling very stressed. You knew that you had just fucked someone who was not the man you came to the concert with. But was it over before you came back here? You dealt with him for too long, and you knew that after this you could never go back to a man who treats you like an object.

“Hey peach?” Sam looks down at you laying on his chest.

“Hm?” You look up at him and a sweet smile spreads across his beautiful face.

“You don’t deserve to be treated the way he treats you. You deserve to be treated like a queen. To be appreciated and loved, whether that’s from me or not.” His hand is stroking at your hair now in an attempt to comfort you.

“I know I should, and I know what I did tonight wasn’t right, but I think it’s what I needed to realize what I deserve.”

“Listen, I don’t know how to go about this from here. I wanna give you my number though, I don’t know just in case you wanna talk. Or if I’m in the area and need a date with a hot babe.” You chuckle at his words, feeling appreciated.

“I think I’d love that Sam. Thank you for tonight, seriously. I don’t think I’ll ever go to a concert that tops this one.” You can’t wipe your smile off your face.

“I know you won’t peach. Plus I don’t want anyone else bringing you backstage. You’re mine.”

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moonlightisdancing · 8 months ago

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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

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LMK IF I MISSED ANY TAGS!

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🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

“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.”

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sparrowofthedawnsworld · 1 year ago

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Sweet Talker - Sam Kiszka

A/N: Remember when I said it would be a crime not to write a voice kink Sam fic? Yeah. There’s not much of a plot here really, just filth. Only lightly edited! I love you all so, so much!

WARNINGS: 18+!! Fingering, teasing, lots of dirty talk, voice!kink, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex (be smart, be safe!!)

MASTERLIST

••••

Sam’s voice.

No matter how many times you hear it, it tears its way through your ears and shakes its way through your body in the most knee-buckling ways imaginable.

The slightly raspy, yet soft and almost nonchalant drawl of his words, never fails to send sweet, debilitating chills up your spine. And god, did he fucking know it, too. He notices everything, but particularly loves to clock the little things that turn you on.

When it’s just the two of you, his voice is much softer and quieter than it is when he’s with his brothers, or socializing with others.

While you adore his boisterous laugh and louder tone when he’s excited, that quietness that he seems to save specifically for you, is your favorite. Your weakness.

“What did you do while I was gone today, gorgeous?” Sam asks you quietly, while his hand strokes up and down your bare back softly.

You snuggle further into his bare chest, fingers gliding over his collarbone as you lay on top of him in your shared bed. The two of you lay this way often, partially -or sometimes fully- bare and just talking - Informing the other about the days events. Some days offering much more dramatic of tales than others do.

“Mmm…” You trail off into thought, thinking very little about what you’ve even done throughout the day, but more so the tingle Sam’s voice has just sent through your body and straight to your core. “I didn’t do all that much today, really…”

“That’s a cop out,” his lazy, raspy voice shoots the teasing observation at you, as he glances down at you with that goofy grin of his.

You’re quick to defend yourself. “It is not! I would just ra-“

“-Rather listen to me talk?” You can hear the smile in his voice, the second he cuts you off to finish your sentence for you. “Uh huh, I bet you would.”

A crimson blush paints over your cheeks. You’re incredibly thankful that you can bury your face away into his neck.

“You do this almost every night, doll,” Sam points out, tone smug and knowing. “One of these days, you’re gonna get sick of hearing me talk so much. Now c’mon, tell me about your day and I will tell you all about mine after.”

A faint huff slips through your nose. Of course you want to talk to him about your day…after you take care of the ache making home between your legs that he has caused.

“I spent some time editing some photos… those boudoir ones that I took a couple days ago,” you explain casually, going into as little detail as possible.

“Yeah?” Sam’s hand continues drawing lines up and down your spine - effectively fueling the fire inside of you. The lilt in his tone playfully urges you to continue. “I bet they look beautiful… You should get some done soon…”

You tilt your head to look at him, “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I would love it,” he corrects with a light tap against your nose with his free hand. “The same way you would love a recording of me talking on a five hour loop.”

“That would depend on what you’re saying,” you shoot back, smiling. It doesn’t really matter what Sam was saying, his voice affects you, always. For the sake of guiding your little cuddle session in a different direction, though…

“Oh, really? So a professional recording of me talking about the weather, wouldn’t do anything for you?” Sam jests, bringing his opposite hand up to poke at your side.

“Sam,” you sigh, frustrated by his obvious stalling. He loves to make you wait and suffer and pine, just a little.

“What?” You feel him shrug against you, dropping his voice lower. “Would me telling you exactly how to touch yourself be better? Or me reciting all the praises I know you love so much?”

A shaky breath bursts out of you at that, a clear sign for Sam to continue. He isn’t exactly digging for any verbal answers just yet.

“Ohh, that struck a chord, didn’t it?”

And here he goes, right back to teasing you again.

Wrapping both arms around your body, he carefully flips the two of you over, so that you are laying beneath him.

“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? For me to call you pretty and coo in your ear while you cum all over my hand?” He starts to place kisses along your jawline, working his way to the sensitive skin just below your ear. Slipping his hand in between your bodies, he just barely grazes his fingers over your heat, “Just… like… this…?”

Another whimper floats out of you just as Sam moves back up to join his lips with yours.

It’s a slow and sweet kiss at first, tricking you into believing Sam is going to give you exactly what you want, right away. His tongue pushes against yours gently, deepening the kiss and stealing all the air from your lungs until they’re burning and warming you to pull away. But you can’t bring yourself to pull away first.

Sam senses this and every few kisses, he slowly starts to pull away, making you chase after his mouth, wearing a smirk that grows with each of your impatient whimpers as he keeps his lips just out of your reach every time.

“What is it?” He questions knowingly, bringing his hand up to your jaw to keep you in place.

“Sam,” you’re fully pouting now, pushing against his grip in attempts to kiss him more. “You’re always being a tease.”

“Quit pouting.” He nudges your bottom lip with his thumb playfully. “You love it when I tease you. Don’t even try to act like you don’t.”

Sam is right and you know it. He knows you know it, too. You can’t fool him.

He takes your silence as victory, “Uh huh. See?”

The teasing, slightly condescending cadence to his tone sends you reeling all over again. His knowing smirk making your stomach twist with desire and excitement. As it always does.

You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips with all the strength you can muster.

Your lips meet not so gracefully at first, and you swallow down the low chuckle Sam emits before the kiss turns needy and quick in pace.

Sam’s hands start to feel around your body, gripping at your hips, your waist. A soft growl vibrates through his chest. The sound reminds you why you want to be in this position in the first place.

“Sammy…baby.” It comes out almost like a plea. You need to hear him.

“You’re such a needy thing,” Sam says, shaking his head.

“Not needy,” you protest. “Just wanna hear your voice.”

“I was gonna get there, if you would just be patient.” Sam chuckles, hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Can you do that? Be my sweet, patient, girl?”

All you do is shake your head ‘yes,’ but that’s not good enough for your Sammy. Not in the slightest.

He leans in, lips grazing yours with the formation of each of his words, “That just won’t do. I think you already know that, too. Speak up, princess. Spit it out.”

It’s low and raspy, the demand. You’ll do absolutely anything that his gravely, lust-drawn voice asks of you.

“I’ll be patient for you.” You give in right away. “I’ll be your good girl.”

“Yeah? You’ll be my good girl?” Sam questions, trailing his hand down from your throat to your chest, teasing and toying with your nipple.

“Yes, s-sir.” Your breath catches in your throat, your body warming rapidly as Sam continues to feel around your chest.

“You always are,” Sam sighs, his right hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just shy of your core. “You always listen so well and cum so pretty for me.”

Your hips raise to press harder against his splayed hand, the warmth of it only adding to your body’s excess of heat and need.

Sam leans in even closer, nudging your head to the side with his nose. His lips graze your ear, sending chills up your spine. All while his hand continues it’s decent between your legs.

“What is it, princess?” He notices the way your breath catches in your throat, the soft squeak of a whimper giving you away. He places a few kisses to the pulse point below your ear. “Your heart is racing. Did I get you all worked, sweet girl?”

“Sammy…” It’s a desperate plea, almost embarrassingly whiny - the way his name falls off your tongue.

“I know, I’m gonna make you feel good,” Sam assures you, sliding his middle finger through your folds, sighing as your arousal completely coats his finger. “Is this what my needy girl wanted? For me to talk to her and play with her sweet little cunt?”

A few slow circles over your clit is all it takes to pull a moan from you, making Sam’s lips curve up into a cocky smirk.

“There we go,” Sam starts, voice low and smooth. “There’s those pretty noises.”

Sam’s thumb replaces his middle finger, keeping the light pressure against your clit, knowing that it will drive you straight to an orgasm and fast. His middle and ring fingers slip inside you slowly, curling up into that sweet spot that he can do perfectly reach.

“Fuck, Sammy,” you cry, reaching up to grip at his bicep. “Right there, please…”

“Right where, princess? Here?” He punctuates the question with a firm curl of his fingers, holding the pressure for a few seconds until you begin to squirm beneath him.

“Oh god- Fuck, yes! Sammy, please!” Your breathing becomes even more labored, eyes screwing shut as you fall into overwhelming pleasure.

“Such a pretty girl,” Sam coos, smiling down at you. “I love when you whimper my name like that.”

“Keep talking, Sammy, please,” you beg him, head lulling back against the pillows.

“Keep talking?” Sam teases lightly, dropping his voice even lower. “You just love my voice, huh? Bet I could make you cum just by talking to you. What do you think, gorgeous?”

“I-“ You attempt to form a coherent sentence, but another wave of pleasure and moan stops you short. “P-probably.”

“Mmm, might have to test that out one night,” Sam hums, as if just voicing a casual thought out loud.

You feel Sam’s forehead press against yours, only serving to make you melt further into the sheets.

“Listen to me, baby doll,” Sam practically growls, although he knows he already has every bit of your attention. You force your eyes open to meet his. “You’re gonna cum right on my fingers and say my name nice and pretty when you do. Okay?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you answer him breathlessly, feeling yourself squeeze around his fingers, pulling them in even deeper. Oh, how your body reacts to him. Every. Time.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he praises, kissing down your cheek to your neck. “Let me have it, gorgeous. Please.”

It burns low in your stomach, your body’s internal scream for release. A few more pumps of his fingers and swirls of his thumb, throw you over the edge and into the raging waves of your high.

You feel it throughout your whole body, tensing and relaxing all the muscles in your body rapidly.

Your head spins as you come down, but Sam clearly isn’t ready to stop.

Your hand shoots down to wrap around his wrist, tugging at it in attempts to stop the overstimulation. “S-Sammy-“

“-Ah,” he cuts you off, pulling your hand away and flattening his hand out over your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart. “Baby doll thought I was done?”

A constant stream of whimpers huff out of you with short bursts of breath. You can feel your clit throbbing against Sam’s thumb, the overstimulation twisting into pleasure with the littlest hint of pain.

“You wanted me to talk to you all low and soft and pretty…” Sam taunts, moving with your squirming body, following every jerk. “And make you cum all over my fingers, but now you can’t take it? My little sensitive girl.”

The shudder that shakes through your body at his words, draws a low, raspy chuckle from Sam’s chest.

“Oh? Someone liked that, didn’t she?” Sam continues his relentless taunting, pulling his soaked fingers out to circle your clit.

Opening your mouth with the intention to answer him, all that manages to come out is a breathy whine. A noise so high pitched and desperate sounding, you might be the slightest bit embarrassed about it, when you think back on it later.

Sam’s lips curve up into a shit eating smirk, far too pleased at the sounds and reactions he’s pulling from you. And it’s so easy.

He leans in, mocking the airy, high pitched noise you just made, directly into your ear.

“F-fuck yo- u-oh, fuck,” you stutter, moaning and stumbling over your own words as Sam quickens the circles over your bundle of nerves. “

“Oh, fuck.” It’s parroted right back to you, his voice mimicking yours; sweet and needy.

Why the way he mocks you turns you on so much more, you aren’t exactly sure. You haven’t the brain power to ponder on it, yet, either.

That sweet and most welcomed burn reforms in the pits of your belly, just waiting for the perfect pass of Sam’s fingers to unravel and take over your whole body once again.

“I’m so close, Sammy,” you warn, gripping at the blanket beneath you with one hand and the pillow behind your head with your other. “Please, don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop? Don’t stop what?” He knows exactly what you mean. “Don’t stop talking to you, or don’t stop pleasing this throbbing little clit?”

“Sammy…” It trots out of you through a whimper.

“Gonna make you cum one more time before I give it to you.” Sam says, as though it isn’t up for debate. And at this point, it isn’t. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Your back arches off the mattress, the pleasure finally taking over your body in a second orgasm.

“That’s right, gorgeous,” Sam practically groans. “Let it all go for me. My pretty, messy, princess. Absolutely fucking gorgeous when you cum for me like this.”

Sam’s lips are suddenly colliding with yours in a searing kiss, capturing all your little noises right in his mouth.

As soon as he feels your body start to jolt, he eases his skilled fingers from your clit, sliding them down through your wetness to bring up to his watering mouth.

“Jesus christ, you taste so fucking good.” Sam sinks your fingers in and out of his mouth, watching you watch him.

You’ve watched him do it before, but it never fails to completely wipe all coherent thoughts from your mind -no matter how many times you’ve seen him do it- to watch him be so filthy.

Dropping his hand from your mouth, he wraps it loosely around your neck, just barely squeezing as he leans down to reconnect your lips.

You can taste yourself all over his lips. It’s an addicting combination of your own release and the aftertastes of mint on his tongue. Creating a sweet, spicy, concoction out of the two of you. Fitting.

“Tell me, baby doll,” Sam calls gently for your attention. “You want me here again?” His fingers trace over your lips ever so lightly. “Or here?” His hand travels down your body, tracing over your folds with the same featherlight touch, before dipping down to gather more of your wetness and begin slowly stroking over your clit again.

Your body jolts and convulses on its own accord, making Sam laugh lowly at you and your bodies way of displaying its sensitivity.

“Awe, is it too much for you now, doll?” Sam teases, lips dragging over the center of your throat. “Has this poor little clit had enough?”

“Need you inside me.” You raise your hips, trying to press yourself against his cock, visibly straining against his sweatpants. “Fuck me, Sammy, please.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want, when you beg that pretty.” Sam removes both hands from your body, tucking them into the hem of his boxers, shoving them down his legs hastily.

Taking himself in his hand, a shaky exhale flutters out of Sam. His eyes close, hair falling around his face as he continues to lose himself with each stroke of his own hand.

At last, he pulls himself back together and guides himself through your folds, letting out a deep, breathy, groan at the feeling of how wet you are.

“F-fuck,” Sam mutters, shakily trying to line himself up with your entrance.

Your jaw falls slack, as he pushes himself into you with a smooth thrust of his hips.

“Oh, m-my god…” Your words barely stutter out loud enough for Sam to hear.

Sam brings himself down above you, using one of his forearms to hold his body just above yours. His other hand slips up to tangle into your hair, tilting your head back against the pillows.

“Move, Sammy, please move.” Your voice is pathetic, dripping in desperation and submissiveness.

“What if I make you wait?” He questions slyly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “What if we stayed just like this and I just talk to you some more? Tell you how amazing you feel wrapped around my cock, until you cum all over it just from my words?”

“Sam, I swear to god…” You try to fight back, wanting nothing more than for him to just move and fuck you completely senseless.

“You clearly love the idea,” Sam points out. “And you love when I talk to you like this. I know that’s why you squirm every time I hold you close and say little things in your ear. Why do you think I’ve started doing that more often? You think I don’t notice how your breath catches when I say even the most mundane things right in your ear?”

“You’re right, I love it,” you say through a fresh wave of whimpers that are tearing through your throat and filling up the room. You’ll always soak up his praises like a plant starving for water.

“I fucking…love it…”

Sam tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. “You’re clenched so tight around me…I could cum in you right now.”

Now that…

That strikes a new nerve, causing you to arch your body into Sam’s followed by a noise reminiscent of a sob.

“Oh, fuck me…” Sam curses, fist tightening in your hair as you flutter around his already throbbing cock.

Unable to wait any longer, Sam begins to rock his hips, slowly dragging himself in and out of you. The burn of him stretching you out rips another unholy sound from your lungs - one that he accidentally mimics, but in a much deeper tone.

“My sweet baby doll, making me feel so good.” Sam picks up the speed and depth of his thrusts. “You love on my cock so well, don't you? You're always just so, so sweet to it."

Sam’s head falls against your shoulder, short huffs of uneven breaths hitting your neck and adding yet another sensation to the pile.

Your hands reach around his body, one tangling in his soft tresses, while the other claws it’s way down to the center of his back - surely leaving flaming red marks in its wake.

“Pull it,” he groans, tilting his head back ever so slightly, to ensure you know exactly want he means.

You oblige without missing a beat, tightening the hand tangled in his hair and tugging it firmly.

“Fuck, goddamn,” Sam sputters, delivering a particularly deep thrust into you, making you gasp and choke on the words you’re trying to form.

“What's that? You feeling good?” Sam fires questions at you breathlessly. Later you’ll probably wonder how he manages to stay together enough to form full, coherent sentences.

“You want to tell me about it? About how my cock is filling you up so good? How you can feel me here?" He lays his hand over your stomach, splayed out and applying the littlest bit of pressure.

You open your mouth to speak, babble some barely understandable praises and call out his name over and over again. Yet, nothing comes out. Your mouth simply hangs open, not even a hint of a sound coming forth from your lungs; they simply hold captive any air left within them as Sammy relentlessly fucks you.

“Tell me, baby, tell me how good it feels,” Sam smirks cockily, knowing full well that you can’t. “You can't even talk, huh? Am I fucking you speechless, doll face?"

“S-so close,” you gasp, both hands gripping at Sam’s shoulders now in hopes that you will stay anchored to earth.

“Are you? Tell me you’re gonna cum so pretty for me,” Sam demands, snaking his hand between your two bodies to rub hasty circles over your bundle of nerves. “Say it for me.”

It takes every part of your body to form the words for him. “I-I’m gonna cum s-so pretty for you, Sammy.”

“You want me to talk you through it? Huh?” Sam’s voice is dripping with sex, low and smooth as silk. “Yeah, I'm gonna talk you through it, baby."

A few more deep thrusts of his hips and passes of his calloused fingertips over your hyper sensitive clit, is all it takes to unravel you.

“Come on, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me.” Sam coaxes.

The way you clench around him, suffocating his cock, dragging him to his own high right behind you, has him sucking a long breath through his teeth before he can even speak.

“That’s it, baby doll. Fuck, there it is.” He’s hardly keeping it together above you, determined to work you through most of your orgasm before he allows himself to fall into his own. “That’s my good girl, so fucking pretty making a mess all over me. My gorgeous, messy, baby doll.”

You can hear him, faintly, as you ride out your seemingly never ending climax. And God, do you love when he calls you ‘baby doll.’

Just as you start to come down, Sam’s thrust become sloppy and sporadic, signaling that he’s reached his own high.

“Where do-“

You cut him off before he even finishes his sentence. “-Inside me. Let me have it, please, pretty boy.”

“Oh, fuck…” he draws the word out, rough and airy. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-“

His hips rock into lazily a few more times, the obscene sounds of both of your releases, bouncing off the four walls of your room.

“How the fuck does this manage to happen every night,” Sam huffs jokingly, slowly pulling out and collapsing beside you, still fighting to catch his breath.

“It might not if your voice wasn’t always dripping with sex appeal every time you open your mouth,” you jest right back.

“What?” Sam gasps, feigning shock, but fighting back a smile. “So you only fuck me for my voice? How low of you, doll.”

“You’re right,” you admit, grinning at him. “I don’t just fuck you for your voice… I also fuck you for your pretty face.”

Sam wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you into him with a pleased smile. “Mm. That’s fair enough, I do have a pretty face.”

@wildbluesorbit @jaketlove

@tripthelightfatality

@sunandthemoontwinflames

@shutupdevvie @jakesguitarsolo

@ageofbarbarians @streamsofstardust

@gvfpal @theweightofjake

@twistedmelodies @belovedsamuel

@watchingover-hypegirl

@watchingovergvff

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @losfacedevil

@starcatcher-jake @gardensgatedaisy

@i-choose-the-road

@sammykiszkamyass @sammysprincess

@ascendingtostardust @gretasmokerising

@jake-kiszkas-smirk @gretavanfanfics

@doodle417

@greta-van-chaos @sarakay-gvf

@colorstreammind @ofburningskies

@groovyvanfleet

@highladyofasgard

@of-infinite-wonders

492 notes · View notes

ageofbajabule · 1 year ago

Text

Fic Recommendations

I’ve been working on this for a while, and will add to it the more fics I read and will recommend.

Some of these are completed series, some are WIP series.

All of the work is 18+ NO MINORS: Some of these will contain smut, some might not. So read at your own discretion.

Josh

One Shots

Something About You - @abeautylives

Feather Light - @tripthelightfandomtastic

I Know You Are, But What Am I? - @indigostardustchords

Drift - @gretavangroupie

In Every Life - @joshkiszkasears

Divinity - @gretavanlace

Valtava - @gretavanlace

Long Time Coming - @builtbybrokenbells

Love Me Tender - @holybananafuck

Series

Varansai - @lightmylove-gvf

Bloom - @gretavangroupie

Endless Summer - @anthemofgvf

Deception - @obetrolncocktails

The Professor - @gretavanbear

Strawberry - @stardustshelb

Abaddon - @garbagevanfleet

Jake

One Shots

Voyeur - @gretavangroupie

Give Me Shelter - @gretavanfleetposts

Give Me All You Got - @alwaysonthemend

Use Somebody - @sunshinevanfleet

Series

Cream & Sugar - @sacredthefran

Hands to Yourself - @sinsofstardust

Vigilance - @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon

Covet - @jakeyt

Lazarus - @garbagevanfleet

Danny

One Shots

Thrills In The Night - @sparrowofthedawnsworld

Rebel Yell - @tripthelightfandomtastic

Series

Four Weddings and a Funeral - @hearts-hunger

Sam

One Shots

Andante, Andante - @gretasmokerising

Not So Strangers - @gvfgal

Series

Pink Lemonade - @garbagevanfleet

Twins

One Shots

Crossfire - @daisyful-gvf

Just For Me - @jake-kiszkas-smirk

Series

Kismet - @gretavangroupie @sacredstarcatcher

Shake My Faith - @capturethechaos

Skin Deep - @streamingcolors-gvf

Stardust Chords - @indigostardustchords

Sugar - @gretavanlace

Poppins - @gretavanlace

Simultaneous - @lightmylove-gvf

Janny

One Shots

Guilty Pleasures - @builtbybrokenbells

Series

Ignition - @obetrolncocktails

Jonny

One Shots

Let’s Share - @joshym

Forbidden Twins

Series

Cruel Summer - @sacredstarcatcher

Gold Dust Woman - @builtbybrokenbells

634 notes · View notes

builtbykittie · 8 months ago

Text

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."

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gretavangroupie · 4 months ago

Text

Saudade

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 16.6k

Warnings: Cursing, Drinking, Heartbreak, Angst, Sexual Themes, Mentions of Disbandment, Mentions of Estrangement. Smut: Dirty Talk, Touching, Kissing, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Oral M!Receiving, Edging, Protected and Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I know this is not your typical story, being set twenty-five years in the future, but I hope you will stick with it until the end. Though this was only planned to be one part, I could definitely see this having a part two in the future. As always, thank you so much for reading, liking, reblogging, etc. It means more to me than you know!

OCTOBER 2049

NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE

It was almost the same. Twenty five years later and not much had changed. Maybe the owners, the patrons, the furniture and the drink specials, but wholly and truly it was almost exactly the same as it was back then. It’s dark, and poorly lit by a string of multicolored Christmas lights around the perimeter. Dusty college pennants line the walls, and the sound of billiards balls smacking together still ring through the air.

The clientele has changed a bit since the last time you were here. Instead of a younger, edgier crowd, the bar is filled with people your own age. Quite possibly reliving their own glory days. Your mind flashes back to a night full of blurry memories and cheap beers, this very bar packed to the brim with friends and familiar faces. It was a night of celebration amongst your peers, the pre-party before the main event, so to speak. It was all a blur now, but it was a memory you’d held on to for all these years, and in a way you all did.

You bring your glass to your lips, sipping at the now watered down Gin and Tonic. Your phone buzzes on the bartop in front of you, your screen showing a message in your recently resurrected group chat. All it took was a single photo of the bar and they knew. A memory unlocked over twenty years later. You’d all talked about meeting up again. Coming back to the city where you all met each other, but years passed and life got in the way. It never happened, and that was okay. The friendships never faltered. Those remained a constant, even after all this time.

They couldn’t believe you were here. You told them you were going to come, and why wouldn’t you? When you found out the conference was taking place in Nashville it was nearly the first thing that came to mind. You knew you had to stop in to take this picture just for them. It felt sad almost, being here without them. You knew it wouldn’t be the same, but just being here in this place you have such fond memories of felt good.

A large group descended upon the bar as you arrived, huddling around the bartop ordering drinks and shots. They were loud and rowdy, but you didn’t care much. You know that was you once, and you hope they will look back on this night much the same way you look back on the night you spent here in the company of your friends. They hung out there for most of the night, a few people from their group leaving to hit the pool tables, or step outside to smoke. You kept to yourself, enjoying your drink in such a nostalgic place as you made conversation over texts.

Now though, as your drink was melted and your skin was feeling warm they decided to leave. They cleared out of the bar quickly, taking the noise and the vibrant energy with them. Now that your view is unobstructed you turn your head to look down the bar. It’s mostly empty, only a few people left sipping their own drinks. You bring your glass to your lips as you observe the people around you. It’s quiet and dark and your eyesight really isn’t what it used to be. The man about ten chairs down from you seems to do the same, finally able to see more than the horde of people that made the bar their home all evening. He looks to his left and right, taking in his surroundings the same way you did. He turns his attention back to the television hanging behind the bar, watching whatever football game is happening in the stadium down the street. He’s leaning back in his chair, his right hand fixed on his glass as his left scrolls on his cellphone with a few flicks of his thumb.

The bartender steps up to you, delivering your fresh drink and snapping your attention back ahead of you.

“Thank you,” you offer, sending him a soft appreciative smile.

“My pleasure, let me know if you need anything,” he answers with a nod of his head.

You grab the new drink and bring the small black straw to your lips, letting the lime flavored bubbles flow over your tongue. The bartender stepping away has grabbed the attention of the man to your right, watching as he turns his head to meet your line of sight. You feel a rush of nerves flood through you, but as the man's eyes meet yours you feel something else. Something familiar and strange. It’s something you know, deep inside of you that's been buried away for years and years. Something you can’t quite put your finger on.

He nods his head and gives you a small, pleasant grin and that’s really all it took to put it together. It hit you like a tidal wave. Connections in your brain that had been long severed, were finally finding their way back together. The tip of his chin, the familiarity of his smile, the dark twinkle of his eyes. This wasn’t just a handsome long haired man alone at a bar. No, it was Jake Kiszka.

You quickly turn away, your eyes zeroing in on the labels on the liquor bottles across from you. You felt stiff as a board as you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest as your mind started to flash through hundreds of memories. Twenty years worth of music, and laughter and memories playing on fast forward. Your mind settles on one though. One in particular that sticks out the most, and probably the most painful one of them all.

You can remember it clear as day. It was an overcast day in March, your phone buzzing incessantly on your desk. Over and over it rang and rang until you picked it up and answered the call. It was bad news, some of the worst you’d heard. “What do you mean a mutual separation?”

How naive of you to believe something so good could last forever. Your small community of friends were devastated, unable to cope with the fact that the very thing that brought you all together was seemingly gone without warning. What you had is all you would ever have. It didn’t feel real. No more concerts to attend, no more music to look forward to. Nothing. It was just over. In the blink of an eye.

Some fans took it hard, lashing out and picking fights. Some were okay, happy and eager to see what would happen with the four members in the future. Whether it be families or solo projects, you knew you would support them either way. What none of you expected though, was for all four of them to disappear.

It was years before anyone saw or heard anything about them, collectively or singularly. They had gone into hiding, something they were good at. No marriage announcements, no birth announcements. Nothing. Even their social media accounts died that day in March. Everything was silent. It hurt, but it was almost better that way.

Around the ten year mark there were whispers, rumors of a reunion. Small gigs here or there, but nothing ever really came of it. They were just that, rumors. There was no show, and there most definitely was no reunion.

A few years later came an album celebration. The fifteen year anniversary of ‘Anthem of The Peaceful Army’. It was slated to be a large event, even a few people you knew planned on attending. Only two of the four showed up to the event that day and the online murmurings of sibling animosity were running rampant. You never heard anything else about the event, there was barely even a photo posted to prove it happened, but it did. Something changed that day in the park, and that was the last anyone had heard or seen anything from Greta Van Fleet.

Now, fifteen years later you find yourself here, looking at Jake Kiszka, in the flesh. He’s older now, in his fifties with a few wrinkles adorning his face and his hair a bit lighter and streaking silver in a few places. He looks different, but in a way, almost exactly the same. He seems to carry himself much in the same way he always did, keeping to himself but exuding a powerful presence.

You toss back a gulp of your drink and make your way into the bathroom. You wonder if you’re making the wrong choice, leaving without saying hello, but you tell yourself that he will be here when you get back. You just have a feeling.

You take a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, swiping on a new layer of lipstick and tucking away a few errant strands of hair as you give yourself a pep talk. You take a deep breath and fix your top before making your way back out to your barstool, happy to find him still sitting in his seat. As you sit down you see him turn towards you, almost looking at you as if he wants to say something, but doesn't.

You remember back then you always told yourself that if you ever saw him you would say hello. You’d walk right up to him and say hi with no fear at all. But you knew that wasn’t true, one look from him had you running the opposite direction. A single glance in your direction mid show nearly had you in cardiac arrest. However, you’d grown up significantly since then, and never before had you had an opportunity like this one.

He bites his lips together and turns away, minding his own business as he sips away at his drink. You smile, noticing that his style really hadn’t changed much. Newer versions of his same tried and true staples hanging from his body. A pair of dirty old boots and a corduroy jacket, of course it’s Jake.

You aren’t sure what has come over you, this sudden bravery taking you by surprise. You turn your barstool just a touch, now facing him just a few seats away.

“Jake?” you say, swallowing down your nerves.

His head snaps to the side, his eyes growing in size as his face softens, “Yes?”

You’re shocked to say the very least, you hadn’t really planned anything past that.

“Hi, um, I’m sorry, I just– I thought it was you but, I wasn’t completely sure. I don’t mean to bother you.”

He shakes his head quickly, “No, no. No bother at all. Have to be honest, it's been a long time since someone recognized me,” he laughs. “Several years at least.”

He stands from his stool and slides his drink along the bar as he walks towards you. You feel your heart rate increase dramatically as you swallow down your nerves. He takes the stool next to you, and now that he is directly in front of you there is no refuting that it’s him. His cologne is strong as you breathe him in, spicy and warm, everything you always expected.

“I think I knew it was you pretty immediately, but it’s dark in here and all…” you smile.

“Well, to be fair I don’t look the exact same as I used to, the years have been tough on me,” he laughs, fidgeting with his glass. “No one really recognizes me at all come to think of it, I’m a little surprised you did.”

“Oh, that can’t be true! I think you look the same!” you say, hoping to boost his ego just a bit. “Honestly, I almost didn’t say anything. I know you value your privacy and I really didn’t mean to bother you.”

He smirks to himself and nods his head, his eyes scanning over you as he lifts his head back up. He stops suddenly, grabbing your arm and turning it just a bit, feeling hesitant to touch you.

“My god, I haven’t seen that in years,” he says, his face completely shocked. “It’s um, it’s the Age of Machine symbol, right? From the album?”

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the recognition, suddenly feeling a bit bashful about the ink. “Yeah, yeah it is. It’s in desperate need of a touch up, but yeah that’s exactly it.”

He runs his finger over it gently in admiration, his eyes growing dark and a smile pulled across his lips. “I loved that one. I still remember when that song came out,” he pauses, taking a pull from his drink. “Those were the goddamn good old days, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, they were. I think that one ended up being my all time favorite,” you say nervously.

He releases his grip on your arm, and you mourn the contact, a sizzling fire burning through your skin at his touch. “My favorite album we ever cut. Always was.”

He sets his glass down and looks at you, really looks at you for the first time. His eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name,” he says, still fixated on your face.

You sip at your drink, needing the alcohol to hit you quickly if this conversation was going to continue. “Oh, it’s Y/N, I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” you giggle.

He takes in your name as if it’s a fine wine, tasting each syllable on his tongue. “Y/N…” He pauses, trying out the name on his lips. Feeling it roll off his tongue. He nods his head in a silent agreement, liking the way the name sounds falling from his mouth.

“It wasn’t true, you know,” he pauses, biting his lips together, “I didn’t try to be…reclusive or whatever people used to say. It’s not that I needed privacy. Things were just so different back then. I had to recharge, everything was just so…draining, I suppose.”

You find yourself smirking at his choice of words, swallowing down your giggle before you speak. “Yeah, I totally understand. I always wondered how it affected you all, the constant traveling and recording. I can’t imagine it was easy.”

He smiles at you and sighs, tilting his head back a little. The memories flash through his eyes, old and fond.

“It wasn’t,” he admits, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “I loved it. I loved what we were doing. I loved the music and I loved performing in front of huge crowds. There was nothing like it, still isn’t. But it was so…exhausting. I felt like I would never be myself again.” He says, looking back at you, studying you for a silent beat.

You're unsure how to respond to that, feeling guilty for being part of the reason he felt that way, but also being the reason he was able to do what he loved in the first place. As if he can sense your unease, he moves to change the subject.

He clears his throat, “Anyway,” he says, shaking the memories from his mind. “You were a fan. How was that? Did you see many shows or–”

“Yeah, actually. Quite a few. My friends and I would meet up and go together. It was always this big thing, we would plan for months…It was a lot of fun. I think of those days a lot. Miss them often.” you answer, taking a sip of your drink.

You notice his demeanor shift a bit, his tongue rolling out over his bottom lip as he listens. You can see his mind working, tumbling through his own memories no doubt.

He nods his head while you speak, feeling a pang of jealousy in his chest at the mention of your friends. A hint of loneliness in his heart that you were able to share those memories with someone but he no longer could.

“It’s weird, you get so caught up in being…famous, I suppose, as corny as it sounds, that you almost forget what you’re doing it for. You do it to make people happy, to give them a night that they’ll remember, and you get to feel it in return. There’s nothing like that in the world,” he laughs breathlessly.

“So you miss it, then?” you ask nervously.

He chuckles, looking at you. “Of course I miss it. I mean, I can’t say I don’t enjoy having anonymity again. There’s a level of safety and comfort in it, and I’ve learned more about myself and my needs since then, I’ve grown as a person. But at the end of the day I miss the performing, I miss the people, I miss the rush, I miss my brothers,” he says, taking another sip of his drink. “I miss all of it.”

You feel a pang in your chest hearing someone you adore so deeply confide in you about things so close to his heart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine something like this.

“So you…don’t speak to them? Your brothers?” you ask quietly, not wanting to prod too much.

He sighs and his demeanor shifts, becoming cold and somber. The warmth he held earlier in his voice leaves him at your question.

“No,” he says firmly. “Not much. They’re doing their thing. I’m doing mine. We grew apart. It could’ve been avoided but…” He shakes his head, looking back at his half empty glass.

“We haven’t really talked in a long time. Especially lately,” he answers, his jaw clenches a little as he says it. “To be honest, I haven’t talked to Josh in years.”

“The two of you were always so close. At least, it seemed like that to us.”

“I thought so too. He’s my twin brother, my closest ally. I knew I could tell him anything, I knew I could count on him,” he says, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Then everything happened the way it did and he left for California. We just…fell apart. Stopped talking for a while, and then we never really started again.”

“What about the others?” you ask, trying to pull his focus from his thoughts of Josh.

He clears his throat, shifting in his seat, his eyes flicking back to you.

“The others,” he says, taking a short breath as his mind runs down the old memories. “We talk on occasion. Sometimes, it’s a short conversation, talking about nothing. It feels like it’s hard to get through to them, to really connect in the same way we used to,” he explains, the sadness returning to his voice. “But when we do talk, it always feels like it did just a few years ago. Nothing’s changed between us but…the distance feels different. When your relationship with someone is built so heavily on one thing and then suddenly it’s taken away, you tend to fall apart from them too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I definitely understand that. I can’t lie, it makes me a little sad to think about it, but I guess that is the reality of life.”

“Yeah,” he says, resting his hand on his glass, “It’s certainly a hard lesson you learn early. Everything is fleeting, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t hold on to it, no matter how hard you try. Can’t live in your glory days forever.”

You sigh and nod, suddenly feeling the weight of the conversation hanging over you. “I always wondered if you would start your own thing.”

He perks up a bit, his expression turning cheeky again, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “I did for a little bit there, if you remember…”

“Oh yeah, god, I almost forgot about Mirador. Whatever happened to that?” you ask, suddenly remembering his side project. He gives a bitter laugh and takes a long, deep drink from his glass.

“Mirador,” he says with a shake of his head. “It was just supposed to be a little side project. Just me and an old friend writing some songs, you know? Sadly, it just didn’t go anywhere, to be completely honest. I realized I couldn’t do the same thing again. People expected too much from me, and every little bit of the project was under a microscope. At least, it felt like it was. It felt like I would never be able to get away from Greta. It felt like I was trying to recapture the magic of an already good thing, but no matter what I did, or how much I put into it, it wasn’t the same. I wanted to break out of my brother's shadow, but that’s very hard to do when he’s the sun.”

“So you knew that we referred to the two of you as the sun and the moon, then?” you smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

A small laugh escapes him, nodding his head. “Yeah I did. I remember that,” he shakes his head, “Me, the moon and my brother, the sun. It's incredibly accurate, I'll give you that.”

“So, you just stopped playing all together then?” you ask, tilting your head to rest on your fist.

He shakes his head, a serious look on his face. “God, no. That’s a ridiculous question. Music is my entire life,” he says, suddenly realizing how intense that statement was. He softens his voice as he continues, not wanting to ruin this good thing.

“I couldn’t give that up, even if I tried I don’t think I could. I love it too much. I have a little set up in my house. Nothing super crazy, my old stuff, my favorite things, the stuff I can’t live without. I write and play almost every day, I go to the occasional open mic or bar, you know how that is,” he shrugs. “I just, I don’t do it for a living anymore. Haven’t for a while. But it still brings me peace. It’s still a part of me.”

“I think there are a lot of people that would still love to hear the music you write, Jake,” you say, a bit of seriousness coloring your tone.

He looks shocked, as if not expecting praise like that. He smiles at you, almost shyly. “I don’t know. It’s been a while, and I’m not the same musician I used to be. I’m– I’m out of professional practice, I mean, I’m not twenty years old anymore,” he says, laughing slightly.

Your eyes flick down to his hands, seeing the callouses still prominent on his fingertips. “I don’t believe that.”

He looks down, his eyes following yours to his hands before flashing back to your face. He laughs again, “I’m serious. I don’t know if I even still have it in me anymore,” he pauses, bringing his eyes back to yours, looking into them as if searching for reassurance. “Playing in front of a few people and playing in front of thousands of people are very different things. It’s been a long time. I don’t know if I could do it again like I used to. I’m not half as good as I used to be.”

“Then you are right on par with every person playing now. You were always better than the rest, Jake, and you know that. Hell, half of the people playing guitar now were inspired by you in the first place. You playing at fifty percent is still everyone else's one hundred percent. And you didn’t win all of those awards for no reason.”

He looks at you, absolutely shocked by your praise. He can feel his heart in his throat, beating fast.

“I…” he stutters, at a loss for words. He stares at you, unable to do anything but listen. There’s such a conviction in your words, such a seriousness and passion behind what you’re saying that it makes his heart beat a little faster.

It’s not that Jake wasn’t used to being praised. In fact, it used to be his favorite thing on Earth. He had gotten used to compliments and applause for years, and soaked it all up. Hearing it from you, after being apart from that type of recognition for so long, was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“You’re giving me too much credit,” he teases, “You really were a fan weren’t you…” he says with a smirk.

“Are, a fan…” you correct. “Just because the band isn't together doesn't mean that I stopped listening to the music you made.”

He looks at you quietly, his eyes flicking back to the drink in his hand as a small smile graces his lips. “You don’t know how good it is to hear that,” he says, almost under his breath.

“No one has forgotten about you if that's what you're thinking…”

He shakes his head, taking a long sip of his drink to mask his embarrassment.

“It’s not that I thought people forgot about me, I don’t have that kind of ego,” he laughs. “I guess I just thought that people moved on, that’s all. It’s been a long time. But knowing that you still listen to it, that means a lot. Really, it does.”

You watch him resettle in his chair, turning his body to face yours a little bit more. You can see a sliver of his chest through his open shirt, his style still not changing through the passing years. His silver pendants still hang around his neck, shrouded by his long wavy hair.

His fingers fiddle with the glass in his hand as he turns his body a little more to yours. He’s a little buzzed now, not drunk but not completely sober. He glances down at the exposed bit of your arm, eyes lingering on the ink that graces your skin. He takes another sip of his drink, the alcohol flowing through his veins, emboldening him just a little bit.

“So what about you?” he asks, his eyes raking over you before meeting your gaze.

“Well, I've been here in Nashville all week for a work conference. Tonight is my last night here, so I decided to stop by here and have a drink. Needed to send a picture to my old friends to see if they remembered the place.” you confess.

He nods his head, listening as you speak. He can hear the nervousness coming from your voice, even though you’re trying to cover it up. He takes another sip of his drink, leaning a little closer to hear you better.

“A work conference? What do you do?” he asks, a curious look in his eyes.

“I'm a designer,” you answer confidently. “Mostly digital.”

He raises his eyebrows, a look of genuine curiosity on his face.

“A designer, eh? The artsy type.” He looks at you with an almost amused expression, a crooked smile on his face. “And you’ve been to this bar before?”

“Yeah, um, right before one of your shows actually. It was the opening night for the Starcatcher Tour…” you answer hesitantly.

He nods his head, “I remember that show,” he says under his breath, more to himself than anything else. “That was a very memorable night.”

“It was, it was,” you agree, both of you letting your mind fill with the old memories.

“That whole tour was one wild ride,” he pauses, letting his eyes flick over you. “So what else about you? Married? Kids?” he asks, sipping from the remnants of his drink.

You laugh, “Oh, no, neither. I'm divorced actually.”

His eyebrows dart up, looking surprised. “Divorced? How long?” he asks, tilting his head a little as he studies you.

“It's been two years.” you answer.

He nods, “Three for me. Shitty club to be a part of,” he grins, trying to bring up the mood. “Not even a free hat.”

“You're divorced?” you ask in shock, “I didn’t even know you were married.”

He nods again, his eyes looking down, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “Yep, three years now. It, uh-,” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. His fingers wrap around his glass, twirling it in his hands. “It didn’t end well. At all.” he says, looking up at you. “Two beautiful kids though.”

“Of course they are,” you tease, nudging his shoulder.

He laughs, the first genuine laugh you’ve heard from him all night.

“They’re fantastic,” he says, the pride in his voice evident. “They’ve grown so much, too much. I don’t get to see them nearly as much as I’d like, but they are amazing. Oldest just started college, and my youngest is finishing up high school.”

“Boys?” you ask.

He grins, a look of fondness in his eyes. “My son is following in my footsteps a bit, surprisingly. Loves music, plays several instruments, the whole deal,” he laughs. “My daughter, on the other hand, absolutely despises music and is an incredible athlete. I think she did that completely out of spite.”

“You're a lucky man,” you smile.

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours. In the low light of the bar, you can see the flecks of gold that are hidden in them. He sighs, letting his fingers pick idly at the rim of his glass.

“I suppose I am,” he admits, the corner of his lips tugging upwards. “The craziest part of all of it is how much I miss noise.”

“Noise?” you ask, giggling.

He laughs, his eyes twinkling. “That came out wrong.”

“I mean,” he continues, “I miss the sounds of a family. I miss the sounds of little girls yelling in excitement, of boys getting angry because they lost their game, of music playing every day every where, of arguing over what to have for dinner or tour schedules. I miss that more than anything. Sometimes my house is just too quiet. I’ve never liked the quiet.”

You feel a twinge of sadness in your chest, knowing the exact feeling he speaks of.

“I spent my entire life surrounded by it, shit, making it myself. I never ever knew a moment of peace, and it almost became comforting to me. Three siblings and a rock band will do that to you. But now it’s just quiet. Silent all the time, everywhere. You never realize how much you miss it until it’s gone. You’ve got no idea how silent an empty house can be until you’re forced to live in it.”

“I have a little bit of an idea,” you tease, finishing your drink.

He raises his eyebrows, a sly smile on his lips. “That's why I come here,” he says, looking around the bar. “To find the noise.”

“A sticky dive bar?” you laugh, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.

“Exactly,” he says, nodding his head. “I’m sure there are a few nicer places I could go, but they wouldn’t be nearly as interesting,” he laughs, looking around. “There's almost always someone or something going on, music, people. It helps,” he shrugs, focusing on your face, “Fills the silence…Plus, it can’t be that bad if you found yourself here, too…”

You grin, nodding your head in agreement, “You make a great point, Mr. Kiszka.”

“I have my moments,” he says with a wink. He brings his drink to his lips, his eyes never leaving your face. He studies you as he swallows a sip, his eyes slowly looking over every part of you.

“You said you are texting your friends,” he pauses, glancing down to your phone on the bar top, “Should we send them a photo?”

“Do you want me to send them a photo?” you tease, raising your eyebrow.

He grins at you, his eyes flashing. “I think I do,” he says, his voice deep and sultry. He holds his hand out for your phone, “May I?”

You smile and nod, placing your phone into his hand. He hits the camera icon and opens the screen, the two of you appearing in frame in the dimly lit bar.

His eyes are focused on the screen, snapping the photos, but for a brief moment he flicks his eyes down to you, smiling. He lets the camera click a few times for each shot, getting a variety. He looks at the photos for a moment, a cocky look in his eyes. His body brushes against your arm as he moves it, the heat traveling from his body to yours.

“Smile for me, love,” he murmurs, his voice close to your ear. A chill runs down your spine at his words, his breath warm on your skin.

You grin as he snaps a few more photos, your mind reeling over the fact you were taking pictures at a bar with Jake Kiszka in the year 2049.

He gives an almost cocky smile as he hands you your phone back, his fingers slowly tracing down your arm. “There,” he says, taking a long drink from his glass, the alcohol going straight to his head. “Pick whichever one, I think they’re all good. Actually, you should send them to me, too.”

What?

You hand him your phone, letting him type in his number and sending a few photos to himself. He hands it back to you with a nod, and you swear you can almost feel your heart stop. You quickly pick a few, sending them off to your friends, anxiously awaiting their replies. You giggle as you lock your phone and set it back on the bar top. “Thank you, for that.”

He smiles back at you, his lips still wet from the alcohol. “Of course,” he murmurs. He leans back in his chair, his shirt gaping open a bit more, his necklaces on display. His chest is tanned and strong, you notice that he has kept in shape since the last time you saw him. He lets his eyes flutter across your body, his fingers toying with his glass.

“The least I could do after you’ve sat here and let me talk your ear off,” he laughs. “I should be thanking you,” he pauses. “It’s been really nice to reminisce with someone who remembers me when I was in my prime.”

“Who says you’re not, still?” you ask.

He laughs, his head cocked to the side. He looks at you again, his eyes raking over your skin. He lets the tip of his finger slowly trail down the exposed skin of your arm, drawing a small shiver from you. “That's awfully kind of you,” he murmurs, “But we both know that's not true. I'm not the same man I was twenty years ago. Definitely don't look the same. Not the rockstar I used to be.”

“It’s not the way we look on the outside, it’s who we are on the inside. And for what it’s worth, how you look on the outside is still just as beautiful as I remember. A perfect match for this,” you answer, pressing your finger to his chest.

His heart thumps wildly under your hand, a small gasp escaping his lips. He stares at you in shock, his breathing speeding up as your words and touch send heat through his body. He lets himself lean into your touch, enjoying the contact, savoring it. His eyes soften, looking at you with a different kind of look. He’s silent for a moment, just staring at you. When he speaks, his voice is raspier than before.

“You’re much kinder than I deserve,” he murmurs.

“I don’t think that’s true either, Jake,” you breathe.

He laughs again, his breath slightly shaky. The way you say his name sends another shiver through his body, your soft voice causing his heart to beat faster. He lets his own fingers brush up to encircle your wrist, gently holding your hand in place against his bare skin. He feels the heat radiating from your skin into his own, the touch burning him like a white-hot flame.

His eyes never leave yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me ask you a question.”

“What’s that?” you answer.

He hesitates for a moment, the alcohol making him bolder than normal. His eyes are locked on yours, taking in every feature of your face.

“Did you ever receive a rose?”

You look down bashfully, fiddling with the ring on your finger, “No, actually. I never did. The people around me always did, but never me. I never got any of that kind of stuff.”

He can see the disappointment in your eyes at your confession. A frown creases his own brows. He lets his fingers run idly along the inside of your wrist, his skin craving the sensation.

His eyes darkened, “That’s a shame,” he murmurs. “But I can’t say I am surprised, my brother always did have a hard time seeing what was right in front of him.”

“Just wasn’t meant to be,” you whisper.

He lets his eyes search your face, almost as if studying you. He lets his fingers slowly brush up the underside of your arm, the light touch leaving a trail of goosebumps across your skin. He can feel his heart still stuttering in his chest, the alcohol and the proximity to you making his head spin. He lets out a breath as he looks at you, his eyes flicking over every feature of your face.

“This is going to sound crazy, but,” he pauses, rubbing his fingers over his lips, “Would you like to come somewhere with me? I want to show you something.”

“Oh, like– like leave?” you ask, taken aback at his suggestion.

He can see the surprise on your face and it makes him smile. He nods his head, his hand still encircling your wrist, his fingers tracing the shape of your arm. “It’s not far from here, I promise. Just a five minute drive,” he murmurs, his voice almost pleading. “I think you’ll like it, I’m sure of it.”

Your eyes dart around his face. Is Jake Kiszka really asking you to leave with him?

“Um, I-” you pause, trying to decide if this is a good idea. You know this opportunity will never come again, so you make the decision to agree. “Sure. We can do that.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his lips curving up into a smile. He lets his eyes rake over your face again before finally releasing your wrist. He fishes in his front pocket, pulling out a roll of cash. He tosses a few bills on the bar, more than enough to cover his tab and yours. He then places his hand on your lower back, his fingers searing at the touch.

“Let's go,” he says gently, guiding you off the stool. “It's not far at all.”

You let him lead your outside into the humid late summer air, the humidity thick and heavy around you. He leads you to his car, opening the passenger door for you.

He walks around the front of the car, his heart hammering in his chest. He gets in slowly, his eyes raking over your body.

He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life. He rests his hand on the gearshift and looks over at you, his expression uncertain.

“Ready?”

“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?” you giggle, turning to look at him.

He laughs, the sound low and slightly nervous. He keeps his hand on the gearshift as he looks over at you, grinning. “You’ll have to wait and see,” he teases. “You’re just gonna have to trust me on this one, love.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sentiment, nodding your head as you turn your eyes back to the dark road in front of you. He was right, it wasn’t long at all until you were pulling into a parking space at a park. It was dark, only a few stray street lights buzzing overhead.

He steps out of the car, coming around to open your door. He offers his hand, the skin hot to the touch. He helps you out, holding your hand as he guides you out towards one of the lit sidewalks. He walks quietly next to you, keeping his stride short to match yours. The sound of crickets filters through the air, creating an almost peaceful hum.

He smiles at you, the warmth of his hand encompassing yours. “Almost there,” he murmurs, gently pulling you forward.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, the feeling of his hand in yours so gentle but so firm. The two of you walk down the sidewalk further into the park, finally stopping just in front of a large open area, with a single well manicured rose bush. A small gold plaque stands in front of it, but you can’t yet make out the words.

He looks over to you, the corner of his lips curving up in a slight smile. He gestures to the plaque, his voice is soft, “Go ahead, read it,” he says, reluctantly releasing your hand. He stays put, shoving his hands into the pocket of his pants as he watches you with a smug grin.

You walk over to the plaque, trying to focus on the weathered metal, but one thing is perfectly clear, the logo forever visible in your mind. 'Greta Van Fleet'. Your eyes focus harder in the low lighting, doing your best to read the old dedication.

‘This White O’Hara rose bush, dedicated on this day, October 19, 2033, celebrates the 15 year anniversary of the release of ‘Anthem of The Peaceful Army’. Planted in memory of the adoring fans that made this dream possible, in the name of peace, love, unity and equality.’

‘They pass the torch and it still burns, once children then it’s now our turn.’

He stands there, silently watching as you read the plaque. The sounds of the night fill the air around him, crickets and cicadas creating an almost peaceful hum. He watches your face intently, searching for your reaction. He can see you taking in each word, the slight tilt of your head, the narrowing of your eyes as you read. He stays quiet, letting you digest every word. He lets his eyes fall over you, taking in the way the light of the street lamp hits you. Admiring you.

You feel tears spring to your eyes as you let them take in the sight of the beautiful white roses, flourishing on the mature bush. The fragrance is overwhelming, the beautiful smell filling your senses. You turn around to look at Jake, seeing him smiling as you figure it all out.

He can see the tears in your eyes, his chest tightening at the sight. He silently watches you move closer to him, his breath hitching in his throat. He remains quiet, the words that he wants to say stuck in his throat. He swallows again, the intensity of his gaze never leaving your face as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Jake, this is so beautiful. It’s so– These are the prettiest roses I’ve ever seen.” you say, stopping in front of him.

He lets out a shaky exhale, his breath mixing with the muggy summer air. He reaches out and tentatively places his hand on your elbow, the touch almost hesitant. His eyes never leave yours. He can feel his heart thudding in his chest, the beat echoing in his ears. He bites his lower lip, his breath coming out in a soft huff.

“They are…they’re perfect, truly,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to the beautiful white roses behind you. “My hard work has paid off I suppose.”

“Your hard work?” you ask.

He nods, his hand never leaving your arm. It moves though, ever so gently moving down to wrap around your hand again. He absentmindedly toys with your fingers as he speaks, his eyes still never leaving yours. He lets the edges of his lips quirk up in a wry smile. “I planted these roses. Well, Sam and I. And I tend to them now. I wanted something out here that would be here for years, centuries. I wanted something permanent.” He lets his eyes trail up your body, his gaze never leaving yours for a moment. “I wanted something eternal. This was sort of my last effort to fix things and– well, yeah.”

“Jake it’s beautiful,” you breathe, ��A beautiful tribute.”

His voice is husky when he speaks again, “You like it,” he murmurs, the words a statement. “I knew you would. But there is actually one more thing.”

He pulls away from you, releasing your hand as he walks towards the bush, reaching his hand into his pants pocket and pulling out a small pocket knife. His arm descends into the mass of leaves, fiddling with the knife before pulling out a perfect, bloomed rose.

He turns back to you, holding the flower gently in his hand. The rose looks small in his hand, his fingers wrapped gingerly around the stem. He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you once more, quickly using his blade to shear away the thorns and leaves. He lifts the rose gently, the bloom just a few inches from your face, looking at you with unwavering eyes.

“For you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry it’s late.”

Your breath catches in your throat, accepting the rose from his hand. A smile parts his lips as he watches you bring it to your nose to breathe it in. “It was worth the wait.”

He lets a shaky exhale from his lungs, his chest almost hurting from how fast his heart is beating. He can feel his own breath get caught in his chest, his breath becoming labored at the sight of you with the bloom held in your soft hands. He swallows again, his eyes raking over your face. He takes a small step forward, the toes of his boots now almost touching your own. His voice is raspy when he speaks.

“I just wish it could have been sooner,” he mutters, his voice almost sad. He runs his hand through his hair, a slight flush of emotion crossing his face.

“I actually think I prefer this,” you breathe, letting your eyes flick up to his.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, the sound filling the air around you. He can’t help the way his body reacts to your simple words, a rush of emotion surging through him. “Are you– Would you be up for one more adventure?” he asks.

You’d never felt more sure of anything in your life. You felt safe with him, you’d follow him to the ends of the earth. “Of course.”

He lets his smile grow bigger, a rush of relief coursing through him. He reaches to take your hand again, the skin warm against his own. He lets his fingers interlace with yours, holding on firmly.

“Good, then let’s go,” he says, pulling you along with him as you make your way back to his car, white rose in hand.

He opens the passenger door for you, gently helping you into the car. He closes the door, coming around the other side, climbing back into the car. He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life again. He shifts the car into gear, pulling out of the park, the streetlights casting a harsh glow over his face as he drives. His hands are still shaking on the wheel, adrenaline still coursing through his body.

“That was really sweet of you Jake,” you murmur, “I’ll think about this forever.”

He can feel his heart skip a beat at your words, his chest tightening at the sound of your voice. He swallows, his eyes never leaving the road.

“I hope you will,” he says quietly, his voice still a bit shaky. He lets his grip on the wheel tighten as he speaks. The radio is off, the only noises coming from the hum of the engine and the sound of his breathing. “There is just one more thing I would like to show you.”

“I can't wait,” you admit, watching him turn into a neighborhood. You can only assume he is taking you back to his home.

He lets his jaw clench, his eyes remaining trained on the road ahead. He feels the nervousness bubbling up in his chest as he continues driving, the familiar surroundings of his neighborhood coming into view. His house is still lit up, the outside lights leaving a soft glow on his expansive front yard. He pulls into the driveway, putting the car into park.

“This would be me,” he mutters, his voice low.

“This is your home? It's beautiful.”

He hesitates before turning off the car, his fingers still gripping the steering wheel. He lets his eyes glance at you before looking out at the house.

“It definitely was an upgrade back in the day,” he chuckles, still staring at the house, lost in thought. He finally lets his fingers slide off the wheel, taking the keys out of the ignition.

He opens the door, climbing out of the car. He comes around to your side, opening the door for you once more. He offers his hand to you, the gesture almost gallant. Once you’re out of the car, he closes the door behind you, taking your hand in his again. He leads you up the path to the front door, unlocking it quickly. His heart is beating fast once more, the blood rushing to his ears.

You take in the entry way of his home, grand and exactly what you expected his home to look like. “Wow, Jake, this is…”

The words leaving your mouth fill his chest with warmth, the anxiety from before replaced with a sense of pride. He lets the corners of his lips quirk up as he closes the door behind them, the sound cutting through the quiet in the house.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. He glances down the hall, his expression slightly uncertain. “But the best part is back here...”

You follow him down the hallway, turning a few corners and stopping in front of a large wooden door. He twists the handle and pushes the door open, letting you enter first. You’re immediately captivated by the room, filled floor to ceiling with guitars, artwork, posters, and more memorabilia than you’d ever seen in your life. It was lit by a small lamp in the corner, the room glowing a warm amber color.

He lets his eyes fall over the room, taking in the look on your face. The look of awe is what he had hoped for, and he feels a sense of pride wash over him. His chest is tight, his heart beating erratically. He takes a step into the room, the small amount of light casting shadows on the floor. He walks over to a small, low table, flicking on another, smaller lamp.

“This is my office, so to speak,” he says quietly, his voice soft. “But I'm sure you know what actually happens in here.”

“This is where you play,” you breathe, letting your eyes focus on the guitars lining the walls. One catches your attention immediately, your hand itching to run your fingers over the frets.

“Indeed it is.” He slowly turns to look at you, his expression half-hidden in the dim lighting. The shadows on his face make his features sharper, the hollows beneath his cheeks creating deep shadows that leave his face in contrast. “Had it built custom for the house, has sound proof walls and everything…My ex she– she got tired of the music all the time,” he laughed. “Had to make some compromises.”

“There is so much here…” you say, looking around in wonder. “I don't even know what to look at first.”

He watches as your eyes flit from item to item, trying to take it all in and process it all at once.

“Feel free to look at whatever you want, touch whatever you want, I won’t stop you,” he assures and lets his eyes follow yours, watching as you look at all the pieces of his life surrounding you.

You recognize some things, others are completely new to you. Photos you’ve never seen, and posters you only ever saw photos of, here now in front of your face. “I wish this stuff didn’t make me sad,” you confess, snapping a few photos of old tour posters.

He takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. He swallows and gently touches your arm, the contact sending sparks up his fingers. He can hear the sadness in your voice, his heart twists in his chest.

He stands close, his chest almost touching yours. He lets the edges of his lips quirk up into a slight smile. “I understand, trust me,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I can assure you there is something in here that may take the edge off.”

He makes his way over to a small shelf housing a collection of vinyl records, thumbing through the stack and pulling out a black cardboard sleeve. He pulls the vinyl from inside, revealing it to you in the light. The sticker on the front reads, ‘Test Pressing’ but offers no other distinguishing qualities. He offers you a teasing smile as he stands to place it on his turntable.

He carefully places the record onto the turntable, his slender fingers handling it with a certain amount of reverence. The record player is old, the vinyl spinning with a soft crackle of static. He’s almost excited to hear it, anticipating your reaction. He stands next to the record player, his eyes darting from the spinning record to your face, watching as you process his actions. He lets his fingers rake through his hair, a slight smirk on his lips as sound begins to play through the speakers.

Music begins to play, the familiar guitar tone striking a chord within your chest. You could recognize it anywhere, and just as you were about to speak, you hear Josh’s voice singing lyrics you’d never heard.

“Jake, what is this?” you gasp.

He watches as your eyes widen, your mouth parting slightly in surprise. He can see the disbelief in your eyes as you register the sound, a song you couldn’t place because it was never released. He can only respond with a small shrug, his heart twisting in his chest.

“I– I’ve never heard this,” you breathe.

He gently steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. He’s close enough to get a good look at your surprised expression, his heart still pounding. “No one ever has,” he whispers, his voice soft. “It was never released. Never made it past the studio.”

“Why not?”

He lets out a huffed laugh, the sound almost sad. He runs his slender fingers through his hair, his expression almost troubled. He lets his eyes flutter down to the record, his heart twisting in his chest.

“Management thought it was too...” he trails off, struggling to find the right words to say. “It was too…intimate. Josh wouldn't budge on it. We all tried. We had so much other material...We could have gone a completely different direction. But Josh just–He wouldn't. Said it was this or nothing. This is ultimately what ended everything.”

“Oh my god, I– I had no idea.” you whisper, still hearing the beautiful and deeply personal lyrics playing in the background.

He lets a sharp exhale of air leave his nose, his eyes still focused on the record spinning gently, the sound of Josh's voice filling the small room. His heart is still beating violently, the sound of it thrumming through his body. He shakes his head slightly, his jaw clenching.

He wants to reach out and touch you again, but he suddenly doesn't know what to say. He lets the moment stretch for a few more seconds before he speaks again. “I thought you’d like to hear it.”

“I just can't believe it. It's beautiful, it would have been perfect…”

He swallows, the lump in his throat refusing to go away. He nods in agreement with you, his heart aching. The song is beautiful, it’s sad and lonely and everything that he loves. He looks back at the record, his eyes narrowing as he focuses on the record spinning.

“Yes...it would have been…” he mutters, his voice soft.

You feel the energy between you shift, his eyes are staring into yours, deep and dark, and you can’t seem to look away. His hands on your skin are burning through you like fire, and you can’t help but to fall deeper into the flames.

He swallows, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. His eyes are locked on to your face, a mixture of sadness and something else in his gaze. He feels his fingers twitching slightly, almost itching to reach out and touch you again, the burning in his body becoming increasingly more intense with each passing second.

“God…” he mutters, his voice low.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling his warmth against your palms. His face is inches from yours, and you know in this moment that he wants you just as badly as you want him.

The thumping in his chest increases, the sound of his heart beating in his ears almost deafening at this point. He can feel the tension in his body increase, his blood rushing through his veins. He reaches up, his fingers grasping the back of your neck, his body on autopilot at this point. He pulls you flush against him, the burning in his body increasing to the point of being almost painful.

He’s aware of the record still spinning in the background, but the only thing he can focus on is you. His hand slides up your neck to the back of your head, his fingers getting lost in your hair. He lets out a huff of air, the breath shuddering slightly, his body shaking. His eyes are focused on yours, the deep brown of them almost completely lost to the black of his expanding pupils. He feels your hands against his chest, the warmth of your body against his leaving a scorching trail across his skin.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Please,” you whisper.

He lets out a growl as he slams his lips against yours, his hand in your hair pulling you in tighter against him. The action makes his heart jump, his chest tight and aching. He kisses you hungrily, his body on fire as he tastes you through the kiss. He parts your lips with his, his tongue exploring your mouth with an increasing sense of urgency.

He tastes of Whiskey and peppermint, his lips warm as they envelop yours. His hands are tight against your head, gripping into your hair so firmly it’s almost as if he believes you will float away. Your hands travel beneath the opening of his shirt, feeling his warm chest on your fingertips. A hum leaves his lips as his tongue twists with yours, his legs walking the two of you backwards to an oversized velvet chair.

He moans as your fingers touch his skin, your warmth igniting something dangerous inside of him. He can’t help the way his body reacts, the way his fingers grip your hair a little more firmly, his body becoming almost starved of all things rational.

He continues to kiss you desperately, the taste of you leaving him wanting more. He guides you backwards, the back of his legs hitting the chair, causing him to stumble slightly before sitting down in it, pulling you into his lap without breaking the kiss.

Your legs straddle him, his hands automatically finding their way to your hips as he pulls you down further. He breaks the kiss, panting slightly as he pulls just far enough away to look at your face, his eyes raking over your features, taking in the flush creeping over your cheeks. “God, you're beautiful…” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

Your insides turn to a puddle as his words float through your mind. All you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on your body, and the taste of his lips on yours. You can feel him growing hard beneath you, his hips moving upwards to meet yours ever so slightly.

He lets out a low moan as he feels you move against him, his body reacting immediately to the contact, a shiver rushing through his body in response. He lets his hands grip your hips again, fingers digging into the soft skin there, the motion making his heart pound. He leans back in, capturing your lips in a kiss, the action full of hunger and need. He can’t get enough of you, the warmth of your body against his own almost driving him insane.

You feel his hands trailing up your sides, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt as his lips move to press wet kisses to your neck. His hands stop just at the swell of your breasts, his fingertips gliding gently over the round skin. You pull away from him, looking into his lust blown eyes and nodding your head in approval.

“Please, Jake,” you beg.

His eyes flutter at the sound of your voice, the sound of your plea making his heart jump in his chest. He lets out a low groan, his body almost shaking at the sound of you begging, his desire increasing tenfold. He lets his lips move back up to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there gently as you feel his fingers move up, gently skimming the underside of your tits, the touch light and deliberate.

“Tell me you're sure,” he demands.

“I’m positive.”

He lets out another soft moan against your neck, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin of your sides. He runs his nose along the skin, his head spinning, his body already on edge, the sound of your voice fueling the fire within him. He leans back in the chair, his breathing ragged as he lets his eyes rake over your body, the sight of you straddling him on his lap almost too much to bear.

“Take your shirt off,” he rasps, his eyes glued to you.

You reach for the hem, pulling the fabric over your head as his eyes lock in on your bare chest. His hands move to cup at your tits, sliding around to your back and pulling you in towards his face until his lips connect with the plump skin. You feel his tongue swirling around your nipple as his hands move down your body, pulling your hips harder into his. He growls against your skin, alternating between sucking at your chest and nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Jake,” you whine, tossing your head back as you revel in the feeling.

He moans again as you say his name and pulls you tighter against him, his fingers gripping your body possessively, his need growing ever more urgent. “I need you on the bed, sweetheart,” he whispers hoarsely, his words laced with desire.

“So take me,” you answer, looking at his pink swollen lips.

He smirks at your response, the sound of your words sending a shudder through him, his eyes dark and intense. He doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves quickly, his strong arms scooping you up off his lap and setting you back down on the floor. He stands, his broad stature leading you with ease as he walks out of the room and across his expansive house.

He leads you to a large bedroom, the room lit only by a small lamp on the bedside table. He walks you quickly over to the bed, the plush comforter and pillows surrounding the king sized bed. He gently pushes you down onto the bed, his body towering over you as he stares down at your half naked body, his eyes practically black with desire.

You can feel the plush bedding beneath you, a dark navy color to compliment the jewel toned walls. Your chest is heaving with want for him, watching as he pulls his black linen shirt over his head.

He stands at the edge of the bed, his shirt tossed to the floor and his muscles taut underneath his skin. His eyes rake over your form on the bed, taking in every little detail, his need increasing by the second. He swallows suddenly, his nerves beginning to take over. It’s been so long since he’s done this with someone. He tries to push down the rising anxiety, his eyes never leaving your face.

You can see the unease on his face, sitting up on your elbows to look at him. “You okay?” you ask gently.

His heart skips a beat as you ask him the question, the genuine concern in your voice pulling at his heartstrings. He lets out a soft huff of air, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah…yeah I’m fine,” he reassures, but his voice betrays him, his words coming out as a whisper, his chest tight.

“You look amazing, Jake…”

He can feel another shiver run through him as you speak, your words pulling at him. He swallows, his chest getting tighter, his heart thrumming in his ears.

He takes another deep breath, letting his eyes rake over your body. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now,” he says quietly, his voice raspy and low, his eyes taking in the sight of you on his bed, your skin practically glowing under the lamplight.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

He lets out a shuddering breath at your request, his skin prickling at the sound of your voice. He moves fast, closing the few feet between you and crawling onto the bed, his knee on either side of your thighs as he hovers over you. His hand gently cups the side of your face, his thumb tracing your jawline, his other hand running down your side, his touch feather-light.

You reach up, running your hand across his chest, feeling the smoothness of his skin and the cold metal of his necklaces. You wrap your hand around his neck, guiding his lips back to yours as he lowers himself to hover over you. As his lips connect with yours you feel his free hand unbuttoning your jeans, and pulling the zipper down.

Your kiss is harsh and needy, wanting him as close as you can get him. You lift your hips to help him slide your jeans off, leaving you in your underwear beneath him. His hand moves to cup at your heat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his hair tickles your cheeks.

He can feel the heat coming off of you, the sensation making him ache for more. He lets out a low hum as his hand runs between your legs, his fingertips gently running over your mound, feeling the heat and the wetness through your panties. He breaks the kiss, his head spinning as desire and need courses through his body. He peppers your jaw and neck with quick kisses, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin.

“God you're so perfect,” he whispers hoarsely, his breath coming out in short pants.

Your hips arch into his touch, silently begging him to remove the barrier between the two of you. “You feel perfect,” you whine, twisting your hand into his hair.

He lets out a low growl as you pull at his hair, the sound driving him crazy. He can't wait any longer, the burning desire to taste you, to feel you, becoming almost overwhelming.

He lets his hand slip past the elastic of your panties, his fingers slipping through the wetness, a low moan leaving his lips as he touches you. “God you're so ready,” he breathes against your neck.

You whine as his steady hand guides his fingers over your clit, sending a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body. “Fuck,” you whine, “Keep– Keep going.”

He can feel the way you squirm beneath him as his fingers work between your legs, his heart thrumming in his chest at your reaction. He lets out a low groan, his fingers circling your clit as he responds to your request.

“Yeah?” he whispers, his fingers tracing and teasing. “Like that sweetheart?” he asks, delivering a particularly sensual swipe of his fingers.

You hum in pleasure, letting your eyes flutter closed as you enjoy the sensation. You can hear his pendant tinkling together above your face, committing the sound to memory. He's painfully hard beneath his jeans, the feeling almost uncomfortable in his current position, but his focus is completely on the reaction he's getting out of you, the sound of your pleasure filling his ears, the feeling of your body beneath his fingers making his head spin.

You feel his hand slide further down, three fingers sliding through your wetness before gently gliding to your entrance. “Two or three baby, you tell me what you want.”

“Tw-Three,” you stammer, quickly correcting yourself.

He lets out another low laugh against your neck, his tongue tracing a line up to your ear. “Good girl,” he murmurs, the sound of the words sending a shiver through your body.

His fingers slide back through your wetness, a soft moan leaving his lips as he presses three fingers in to the knuckle, the feeling lighting your body on fire. “You’re so perfect, sweetheart.” he growls, letting his fingers move perfectly inside of you.

He lets out a low moan at the sound of his name on your lips, his fingers working inside of you, his knuckles rubbing against your inner walls. He's completely lost in your response, the feeling of you beneath him driving all rational thoughts out of his head.

“That's it, sugar, say my name again,” he commands, his voice low and breathy. “God, you feel so good around me.”

“Jake,” you whine, feeling his thumb move to rest on top of your throbbing clit.

He doesn’t stop his fingers, his thumb gently beginning to rub at your clit, the feeling and sound of you pulling another moan from his mouth. “That’s right sweetheart, let me hear you. Don’t hold back on me.”

You feel your insides starting to tense, your thighs are quivering with anticipation, and your blood is moving through your veins faster than it ever has. You let your eyes open to look at him, completely entranced with the way his fingers are disappearing inside of you. “I'm close, baby.”

He lifts his head to look at your face, his eyes scanning across your features, taking in the flushed appearance and hazy expression on your face.

“Let go, baby,” he rasps, his fingers increasing their pace. “I wanna see, I wanna hear you cum for me.”

You can hardly deny him, your body giving in to his demands whether you like it or not. Your body tenses around his fingers, your hips rolling up into his touch as the tension snaps inside of you. Your back arches up off the bed as his name falls from your lips, echoing through the air around you as soft curses leave his lips.

He stares down at your face, watching you come undone beneath him, and it’s the most breathtaking, perfect thing he’s ever witnessed.

He lets his fingers slow as you ride through your orgasm, gently removing them, a low hum leaving his lips as he sits back a bit, his eyes taking in your disheveled form. “God you’re fucking beautiful, baby,” he murmurs against your neck.

You are working steadily to catch your breath, looking at him as he pulls his fingers to his lips.

He lets his eyes stay on yours as he runs his tongue over his fingers, the taste of you making his head spin and his stomach tense. He moves onto his knees as you settle back down, his eyes roaming over you, the sight of so needy beneath him makes his body ache.

He lets his hands run up your bare legs, gently massaging your thighs and hips. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low and raspy.

“That was,” you pause, letting out a sigh, “Amazing, Jake…”

He lets out a soft laugh at your response, his fingers continuing to massage your skin as he responds. “Yeah?” he asks, a smirk slowly spreading across his lips.

“Yeah, but you already know that,” you counter, pulling him down towards you by the chain of his necklaces. He moves quickly, his body pressed flush to yours before you move to roll him to his back, taking position on top of him.

His hands rest on your thighs, his thumbs making small circles on your skin as he looks up at you. He lets his eyes rake over your face, his hands gently squeezing your hips, trying to keep the cool demeanor as desire begins to overtake him.

“Think you’re taking charge here, sweetheart?”

“I know so,” you quip.

“Only because I’m letting you.” he smirks, moving a hand to rest behind his head as he watches you.

He looks so good beneath you, the years passed only adding to the natural sexiness he always possessed. Your eyes rake over his body as your fingers move to unbutton his pants.

He sucks in a deep breath as you get the button unfastened, his entire body practically burning now, his skin overheating. You pull his jeans down below his hips, revealing the thin boxers he’s wearing underneath, and the obvious print of his fully hardened length beneath the fabric. His muscles flex involuntarily as he tries to keep himself in check, but he finds it damn near impossible when you’re looking at him like this.

You drag your hand over his length, pulling a hiss from his chest. You stroke him through his boxers watching his lips part and his breathing become heavier.

He can hardly contain himself as you touch him through the fabric, a shuddering gasp leaving his lips, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him.

“Oh god, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained and harsh. He can’t keep his eyes off you, his heart racing in his chest as you tease him, the friction both incredible and completely torturous.

You move backwards on the bed, letting your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down his legs as you move further backward. His cock springs free from the confines of the fabric, slapping against his groin with an audible thud. His eyes search yours as you throw his boxers to the floor, reaching for his length and grasping it hot and hard in your fist.

He lets his tongue run across his dry lips as you continue teasing him, his eyes darkened with lust, his chest heaving as he tries to keep his breathing even.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he moans, his hips arching up as you continue your movements, craving more friction, more contact.

You settle yourself between his legs, as you continue to work him, giving him a playful smile before dropping your lips over his length. You can taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue, and the warmth of his body on your lips.

He lets out a low moan of pure pleasure as your lips wrap around him, his heart feeling like it’s about to explode in his chest, his body practically on fire.

“God, yeah, that’s it baby,” he grits out, his hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white. “Just like that.” He can’t help but let his hips roll up into your mouth, the feeling and the sight of you, almost too much to take.

You flatten your tongue against him as you take him further into your mouth, feeling his tip brush at the back of your throat. His hips jerk into you, his own primal need for more manifesting. When you don’t gag, it takes him by surprise, his eyes widening as he looks at you.

“Fuck sweetheart, and I didn’t think you could get any better.”

You pull back a bit, sucking as you withdraw your mouth, cupping his balls and pulling a whine from his chest.

“God, yes,” he whines, “Doing fucking amazing.”

You begin to bob your head up and down at a faster pace, feeling his cock start to thicken in your hand. You pull your mouth from him, letting a string of saliva drip down the side of his length. Your eyes never leave his as you lick up the underside of his shaft, savoring the taste of his skin and the feeling of his veins on your tongue.

He practically whimpers at the feeling of your tongue on him, his chest heaving, his body practically trembling with need. He can feel himself getting closer with every movement of your mouth and hand, his eyes locked on yours as he tries to keep control of himself.

He’s on the edge, desperate for release, his body arching up into you. “Keep going, baby, don’t stop,” he moans out, his voice ragged and breathless.

You quicken your pace, eyes locked on him as you continue to work him towards his release, the jerking movements of his cock in your mouth letting you know its arrival is imminent. You hum around him, letting the vibrations of your voice work him even closer.

“Goddamn, Y/N,” he pants, gripping his hand into your hair. His grip is firm and his eyes are pleading, so you give in and give him the approval he is looking for.

In seconds you feel his hand guiding your head at a much faster pace, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as he curses in pleasure. It’s only a few seconds before you feel him starting to twitch against your tongue, his hand loosening its grip in your hair.

His breathing becomes ragged as he guides your head, his hips bucking and rolling as he gets closer to the edge. “Look at me,” he demands.

Your eyes immediately meet his, and suddenly you feel the rush of bitter warmth as it flows across your tongue and down your throat.

“Take it, fucking take it,” he groans, his hips still moving on their own as he spills into your mouth.

As you swallow down the last of his release, he lets his head fall back on the pillow, his chest heaving and his heart still racing as he comes down from the high. He looks back up at you, his eyes dazed and half-lidded, his breathing labored.

“Jesus,” he rasps, his hand falling from your hair. You move to stand at the end of the bed, tossing your hair over your shoulders and sliding your thong down your legs. He watches you intently, his eyes taking in the sight of your naked body, causing his cock to harden once again. He strokes it a few times, still feeling sensitive from his last orgasm.

“I want you, Jake,” you whisper, kneeling back onto the bed.

“Come here,” he replies, his voice a low, gruff whisper. He sits up, his eyes still taking in every inch of you, his body practically aching with need, his heart thrumming in his chest. He holds a hand out to you, his eyes locked on yours.

You move towards him, taking his hand as you step closer, your body coming flush with his as he pulls you into his lap. He lets his hands move to your hips, pulling you even closer until you're straddling his thighs, his breath catching in his chest as he looks at you.

“You want me to ride you, baby?” you ask, a mischievous smile on your lips.

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, pulling your wet cunt into direct contact with his cock.

“Or,” you pause, pushing up a little, “Would you rather have me on my hands and knees?”

The question makes his heart skip a beat, and he lets out a low groan, his hands gripping tighter on your hips.He hesitates for a moment, his eyes locked on yours, and when he speaks his voice is low and rough.

“That's not fair,” he says, his hands moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer against him.

“Why not?” you ask, pretending not to understand his conundrum. His hands remain firm on your body as he responds, his voice a low, huskier version of his normal tone.

“Because I'm trying to show you some restraint, and you're making it very difficult for me, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes flicking between yours as he looks at you.

“Who said I wanted you to show restraint?” you ask, wanting everything he had to offer.

His eyes darken as you challenge him, his hand gripping tighter on your hip. “You're playing with fire, angel,” he warns, his voice strained as he tries his hardest to keep control of himself.

He can feel the way your body responds to his touch, and he can tell you want more, and god knows he wants more too. You roll your wet pussy against the head of his cock in an attempt to press him even further.

“Last chance baby,” he warns.

You suck a wet kiss to his chest, giving him your answer. He pushes you up, and rolls you off of him, standing from the bed as he snaps his fingers. “Hands and knees,” he barks, pointing to the center of the bed.

The demanding quality of his voice sends a flood of arousal to your core. You follow his command, getting on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed, your heart pounding in your chest as you hear him move behind you.

He walks over to his bedside table, pulling open the bottom drawer and grabbing a silver foil packet from the strip. He rips the packaging open with his teeth, spitting the corner out to the floor before rolling the latex over his throbbing cock.

He moves closer to you, his body now completely flush against yours, his hands on your hips to keep you in place. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough, his breath hot against your ear.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe, anticipating his first move.

His hands tighten on your hips as you reply, his heart racing as he hears the need in your voice. He leans down, his lips close to your ear as he responds, his words a low, gruff whisper. “Good girl.”

He moves his hips behind you, positioning himself at your entrance. He takes a moment to compose himself, wanting to savor this moment. His grip on your hips is firm, but his touch is gentle as he slowly pushes into you, a low moan leaving his lips as he does.

“God, you feel so good, baby,” he whispers, his body trembling against yours.

The stretch is indescribable, the burning fullness as he fully sheaths himself inside you is nothing like you could have ever imagined. You can feel the throb of his cock against your walls and the way his hands grip into your hips as he adjusts to the snug sensation overwhelming his senses.

“Jake, oh my god,” you whine, feeling his hand slide around to grip your chest. He pinches your nipple between his fingers as he drags his tongue down your spine.

“I know baby, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to move his hips at a faster pace.

The room is starting to grow hot, his headboard tapping the wall with every thrust into you. You can’t seem to stop the continuous flow of noises leaving your chest, only offset by the sound of his hips slapping against your ass.

“Jake, baby,” you cry out, his hips slamming into your at a bruising pace.

“I warned you sugar,” he pants, “I know you can take it.”

He’s right, the pleasure is overriding the pain, leading you towards what you know will likely be the best orgasm of your life. You begin to clench around him as curses fall from his lips, his hands gripping into your shoulders, pulling you back to meet each thrust.

You can feel his hair as it drags across your back, his lips pressing into the arch of your back. “So fucking good for me, sweetheart.”

You know you aren’t going to last much longer, the need for release inching its way closer and closer to the forefront of your mind.

“Baby,” you whine, looking over your shoulder at him. He’s the picture of perfection, hairline dotted with sweat as his chest glows.

“There’s those pretty eyes,” he smirks, “Have half a mind to turn you over, just so I can look at them when I cum.” he ponders, his hips slowing slightly, “You know what, I think I will.”

He pulls out of you quickly, guiding you down to your back before slipping right back into you with a groan.

“Goddamn, perfect pussy,” he murmurs, “Look at me, beautiful.”

You let your eyes meet his, his hair framing his face now as his pendants drag over your skin. Your hand moves to cup at his neck, your thumb splayed wide over his throat.

“Mmmm, yeah,” he growls, “This was the right choice.”

You wrap your legs around his back, his free hand coming down to grip at your ass. His thrusts are starting to become more erratic, his pace slightly off from the consistent speed he was working at earlier. Again you feel the warmth in your stomach starting to creep up your chest and you know that it will be only seconds until your undoing.

His breaths are coming in short, ragged gasps, his heart racing in his chest. He can hear the sound of your bodies colliding over and over again and it only fuels his fire. As he feels you start to get closer, he pushes himself even further, wanting to give you everything he has.

His hand snakes up your body, cupping at your face and letting his thumb trail over your kiss swollen lips. You part them, allowing him to press his fingers to your tongue. You close your lips around them, letting your tongue work at the digits, and suck them without breaking eye contact.

You feel his cock jump inside of you, and you know that you’re both there, but prolonging the moment as long as you can. He presses his fingers to the back of your throat, your eyes watering instantly as you gag around them.

“There it is,” he grins, “Just had to hear it.”

He pulls his wet fingers from your mouth and immediately presses them to your clit, circling around the throbbing nub to get you to the finish line with him.

“Cum for me, baby,” he demands, “Cum with me.”

“I want you, Jake,” you beg, “All of you.”

He lets out a low moan as you speak, the tone of your voice setting his body on fire. He knows what you're saying, what you're asking of him, and who is he to deny you?

“All of you, Jake… Take it off…” you whine.

He lets out a deep growl as you beg, his body trembling with need. He wants to give you what you want, but he also wants to show restraint, his self control hanging by a thread.

“You sure, baby?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” you beg, “Want it so bad. Want to feel you.”

He can't hold back any longer, your words pushing him over the edge. “God damn it,” he growls, his body trembling. He pulls out of you, ripping the condom off and tossing it to the floor, pushing back inside of you with a sinful groan.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he pauses, “This what you wanted, baby? You want my fucking seed? Need to feel me all nice and warm inside you?”

“Yes Jake, Oh god– you’re so– give it to me baby,” you cry out, finally feeling the full warmth of his cock inside of you, stretching and filling you so perfectly.

“I’m there sweetheart, gonna fuckin cum,” he growls, his eyes locked on yours as his hips slam into you. “Soak me beautiful, squeeze my cock while I cum in this pussy.”

His words send you over the edge, your world exploding around you as the sound of his grunts fill the air you seem to be floating in. He’s hot as he spills inside of you, sweat dripping down his chest in salty rivulets.

His lips crash to yours as he works you through it, his tongue dancing with yours as you both start to come down from your orgasms. He breaks the kiss after a moment and rests his forehead against yours, his breathing coming out ragged, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Goddamn, baby, I think that almost killed me,” he laughs, “Was hot as fuck.”

You laugh, as you kiss him again, his smile making your heart flutter in your chest. “You're hot as fuck, so it wasn't hard.”

He laughs at your reply, the sound deep and velvety. “Oh, flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart,” he replies, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face.

He's still trying to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the exertion, but he still has enough energy to pull you closer against him, his hands gently rubbing your back as he speaks. “But you’re only adding to my ego.”

“I knew you were still in there somewhere,” you tease.

He pulls out of you, the evidence of his release slipping between your thighs. “You know, I did not expect my night to go like this.” he smirks, standing from the bed and making his way to the bathroom.

“Glad it did,” you smile, watching his perfect round ass make its way to the sink. He returns a minute later with a wet towel, gently cleaning you up as he showers you with praise.

“I’d like you to stay here, if you’d like.” he asks, nervously, sliding back into the bed next to you.

“I have a flight in the morning,” you counter, biting at your bottom lip.

He pulls you into his side, pushing the hair away from your face as he sighs, “I see,” he pauses, swallowing nervously, “Just stay, and you can leave at whatever time you need to, I would just really like to spend the rest of the night with you here.”

You can't help but smile at the sound of his words, your heart fluttering in your chest. You nod, snuggling closer into his side, your head resting against his chest. “I think I can manage that,” you reply, your voice soft and gentle.

You can feel his heart beating beneath your ear, the steady rhythm comforting you. You close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of his body close to yours. He reaches over and turns off his lamp, leaving the room in darkness.

“Thank you, for the rose…” you whisper into the darkness.

His hand moves to stroke your hair once again, his eyes roaming over your face in the darkness. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he replies, his voice soft and sincere. “Wish it would have happened twenty five years ago,” he says, his words a light tease.

“I’ll keep it forever.”

“You better,” he teases, a hint of a chuckle in his voice, “I expect to see it on Instagram by morning, and don’t forget to tag me.”

You slap at his chest playfully, the joking quality of his voice very present. “Be careful or I just might.”

He laughs, his hand moving to the spot you slapped his chest. “Oh no, please don’t,” he teases in mock horror. He pulls you closer to him, and sighs in contentment, his heart feeling light and happy for the first time in a long time.

—

Your phone buzzing on the nightstand wakes you, your alarm set for 5:00AM. The room is still pitch black, the black velvet curtains shrouding the windows and keeping the light from entering. The air is cool, a little too cold for your liking but the heaviness of the sheets make it bearable. You can feel Jake’s body heat beneath the sheets, radiating and keeping you warm for most of the night. His hands never left your body, keeping you close to him even in his sleep. You slept peacefully, though as you start to move around you notice the soreness of your muscles. You know you have to get up, you have to find your clothes and get back to your hotel before your flight.

You turn to look at Jake, still sleeping next to you. His lips are parted, soft puffs of air drifting between them as his eyelids move. His hair is pulled back away from his face, revealing his ear and the column of his neck. His hand rests gently on your pillow, his fingers twitching in his sleep and bringing a smile to your lips.

You roll over towards the nightstand, noticing that the white rose he presented you with last night was laying across the length of the small table, and you know he must have placed it there at some point during the night. The petals have opened more now, and your heart flutters as you remember him giving it to you. You grab your phone and open the camera, snapping a photo of the rose on the nightstand just to remember the moment.

You take in the sight of him one last time before silently slipping out of the bed, feeling very exposed as you look around the dark room in search of your clothes. You redress yourself as quietly as possible, remembering that you shed your shirt in his office. You grab your rose, and take one last look at his perfect sleeping form before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and slipping out of the large wooden door and into the hallway.

You make your way to his music room, seeing your shirt still laying on the floor and the record still spinning idly as the speakers crackle. You grab your shirt and pull it over your head, deciding to stop the turntable and place the record back into his collection. You take another look around the room, overcome with emotion as you look at the young faces on the posters and in the photos hanging on the walls.

Twenty minutes later you’re notified that your Uber is outside, and a pang of sadness washes over you. You know you have to leave but part of you wants to stay. To get back in bed with Jake in hopes of a round two, to see his morning face and hear the raspiness of his voice, but you can’t. You decide to leave with the memories and your rose, watching his house pass by the windows as the car pulls out of his driveway.

Your mind is swirling with thoughts of last night, the way he felt, the way he tasted. You scroll through the photos of the two of you at the bar, feeling a weight settle on your shoulders as you realize you will likely never see him again. In an effort to lift your spirits you pull up your group chat with your friends, forgetting that you sent them the photo of the two of you last night. You never thought to check their replies, feeling so caught up in your time with Jake that it never crossed your mind.

You’re instantly reduced to laughter as you read their desperate replies, catapulting you back twenty years when you all wished to run into him at a bar by chance. You sent a few laughing emojis and gave them all a quick run down of the night, finishing off your message with a picture of the white rose on the nightstand.

Their reactions were exactly as you expected, complete panic and begging for every single detail.

—

As you make your way through airport security you deposit your things into the large plastic bins, walking through the metal detector and out again, grabbing your bag and shoes from the end of the conveyor belt.

It’s a short walk to your gate, your flight home seeming daunting after the night you’d had. It had been a few hours now and still you couldn’t shake the thoughts of him from your mind. You knew you should be happy for that one perfect night with him, but you felt something with him. Something you hadn’t felt in years. Something different.

You take a seat at your boarding gate, letting out a sigh as you settle into the stiff airport chair. You can still smell the remnant of his cologne on your body, and you can almost feel his lips on your neck. A swirling feeling takes up residence in your stomach and your skin feels warm. You decide to take your mind off of him, reaching into the front pocket of your purse for your phone, but feeling something else against your fingers instead.

As you pull the items out of your bag, you feel as if your heart might stop in your chest. A small folded piece of paper emerges from the pocket with a note written inside. A relic falls into your hand as you open it, small and black and aged from wear over the years. A guitar pick, adorned with the ‘Age of Machine’ symbol sits perfectly in your hand. You feel your eyes well with tears at the special gift, letting them flick over to the note written in his messy handwriting.

Every Jake girl needs a pick. I hope you enjoy this one from my personal collection. Might even be the last one in existence. Thank you for everything tonight, your kindness to me will never be forgotten. You’ve reignited my spark in more ways than one.

P.S. - Check your phone

Love, Jake

With your newly acquired pick in your hand you reach into your purse, pulling your phone out as quickly as possible. On the screen you see more texts from your friends, but more importantly you see a text from Jake, who not only sent those photos to himself, but added his contact information into your phone. Your thumb shakes as you open his text, nervous to see what he has sent.

9:47AM: I’m guessing you found my note and it led you here. I hope you like the pick and that you will hold on to it for me. I meant what I said in that note and here’s your proof. Thought of this last night and recorded it this morning just after you left. It’s all thanks to you. Give it a listen and call me when you land. Hope to hear from you soon.

An attachment was sent along with his message, and as it opens you realize it's an audio file, but not just any audio file. It’s him, playing music the way he was always meant to.

JakeSoloDemo.mp3

As you listen to the track you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. You’d brought him out of his shell, and all it took was a few encouraging words and letting him know that people still cared. You read over his message again and again, debating whether or not to text him back now, or wait to call him when you landed like he asked, but either way he wanted to hear from you, and the promise of the conversation to come was enough to keep a permanent smile on your lips for the rest of time.

Sure, you may have reignited his spark, but maybe, just maybe, he reignited yours, too.

Taglist: @gretavanmoon@britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @gvfpal @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-wagner @indigobrea @slut4lando @justdamnpeachy @sacredtheslay @jakekiszkashangnail08 @dayumclarizzel @objectsinspvce @gracev0609 @kisskiss-atticus @i-love-gvf @whimsiliz @dilflover-4ever

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gretavanmoon · 4 months ago

Text

A Perfect Ten - Part 2

Josh x Female Reader FWB

10.9k words

+ After befriending your coworker Josh at your new workplace, the both of you realize you need each other in more ways than one. Things might get a little cloudy as an ongoing judge of actions takes place, leaving the both of you wrapped up in a back and forth neither of you saw coming.

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Allusion to Homophobia (dude being an a**hole), Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Dirty Talk, Praise, Heavy Flirting, Oral F!receiving, Fingering

Read Part 1 here

“...Sure, why not? If you want to, of course. Might be fun to have a little situation we’re both comfortable with… no strings attached type thing…”

It’d been a week since your heated hookup with Josh on your couch, and though initially you thought things were going to be awkward back at work once the two of you were on the same shift again, surprisingly they were the opposite. Day to day activities had gone back to normal, the both of you working your tails off slinging pizzas and beers at Angelo’s.

Since that night, though, you’d found yourself in a constant state of unsettle, your mind and body going through the waves of being attracted to him while also wanting to slap him on the back of the head like a real friend would. His boyish charm continued to shine through his albeit tough-guy exterior, and the smiles he normally would fight to stave off began to show themselves a little more often in your presence.

The more you worked with Josh, and the more that you began to feel completely comfortable in your work position, the more you began to notice the subtle feeling of his hand on your lower back as he’d reach above you to grab the pizza box on the top shelf, or how he’d tell the line guys to fuck off when they’d take back of house banter too far. You’d also noticed how he would hold your gaze as you finished up a story to your coworkers, his perfect white teeth nearly glittering in the low light reflections of the restaurant. It wasn’t hard to miss how his chest would visibly rise and fall with bated breaths until he broke eye contact, shaking his head as though he was physically clearing away his intrusive thoughts.

You know you’d agreed upon this… arrangement with Josh, and though you hadn’t outwardly discussed the details since that night at your house, you knew that the time was drawing near as your pull to him began to come back full force. That same exact notion of wanting to be the holder of all his attention, to be the one that took up space in his mind whether he wanted it to or not, began to consume you once again. You didn’t know where it had come from, and you didn’t know how to make it go away. You were almost embarrassed of yourself to even think it, as strangely possessive as it was to want to be someone’s muse this wholeheartedly.

You caught yourself staring at the way his arm muscles stretched under the tight black fabric of his t-shirt, his hands quickly and expertly spinning roll upon roll of silverware.

“Ya know if you’re going to stare like that, you could at least make it a little less obvious, sweetheart,” he said under his breath as he smirked at you from across the bar.

You blinked away your dry eyes, focusing again on your own pile of flattened napkins in front of you as you cleared your throat. “I wasn’t staring,” you choked out.

“Oh really?” he perked up, sliding his eyes to your fellow coworkers at the other end of the bar finishing up their own side-work for the night. “Then what would you call someone else’s eyes taking in your every movement while you do nothing but mind your own business?” he stuck his tongue against his cheek as he slammed a roll into the basket.

“Shut up, Josh. I was just watching your um. Your technique…” you lied, taking note of your messy and loose rolls of forks and knives haphazardly piling up in your own basket.

“God, you do suck at rolling, don’t you? I never noticed,” he bites back a laugh as he shakes his head, and you suddenly feel extra embarrassed at your lack of one of the most basic skills of serving. “Here, let me show you how I do it.”

“No, I’m fine, I’ve got it. I just– they’re just ugly. But they’ll do the job,” you argue as he comes around to your side of the bar, wiping his hands off on the white towel hanging off the back of his belt.

“No no no, if bosslady sees this shit job, she might actually fire you on the spot. Actually surprised she hasn’t seen this, yet,” he says as he brings himself to stand behind your bar stool, his arms encasing your shoulders as he grabs your wrists, positioning your hands on either corner of the napkins.

“Josh, I swear to god, you’re making me feel like an idiot.” And he was, no doubt. Thinking he can come over here and school you in front of everyone, making you out to look like a fool at your own profession. But you had to admit, you needed a lesson. And you couldn’t ignore the feeling of the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his hands subtly running against the backs of your fingertips as he took them in his own, leaning down to show you how to tuck the utensils down into a pocket before forcing the sides in.

“See? Like this…” his breath was on the shell of your ear, warm and familiar as scenes from a week ago on your couch began to make their uprising again, your body stiffening at his simple touch. “Gotta use some force, little elbow grease to get them where you want. Then… tuck the edges, and roll…”

You huffed an aggravated breath as you accepted the fact that his hands had just helped you to roll the tightest, most perfect roll of silverware. “Show off,” you murmured.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” he laughed as he pulled away, his hands squeezing at your arms as he detached himself and stepped away. The loss of the feeling of him was more disorienting than you’d thought it would be; feeling him so close again had taken all the breath from your lungs, and you hadn’t even noticed that you didn’t even take a breath the entire time he was behind you.

“Will you two just get a room already?!” one of your coworkers, Jackson, suddenly yelped from the end of the bar, sending the rest of the group around him into a fit of point-and-laughs. “God, just do us all a favor and break the tension and get it over with, why don’t you?” You could feel your face turning a bright shade of red as you shied away, listening to the laughs and howls of your coworkers who had now become your friends. You had riled up enough gumption to retaliate with something, right before you realized Josh would undoubtedly be the one to take up for you, anyway.

“What makes you think we haven’t, Jack?” Josh asked as he rounded the bar back to his own station across from you. “Think you fuckin’ know it all?”

Jackson was walking toward you, laughing as he placed a heavy arm across the back of your shoulders. “Nah, I don’t know shit. Just thought I’d be the one to break the ice if the two of you haven’t yet, huh?” he bellowed as he forcefully shook your shoulders side to side. You knew he was joking and speaking all in good fun, but it still didn’t stop you from thinking about decking him in the face if he said another word. “Might be a nice little thing for you to try out, huh Josh? Little bit out of your normal practice…”

“That’s not any of your business, Jackson,” you said as you tried to shove his arm off our shoulders.

Your eyes glanced up to Josh from under your awkward stance, finding him clenching his jaw closed as he rolled his eyes. “Leave the girl alone, Jackson,” he warned.

“Or what? You gonna call your boyfriend to come and kick my ass?” Jackson spouted to Josh, making the group beside you cease all their laughter, while sending a shot of rage straight through your stomach. “I don’t think so, pretty boy.” The room fell silent as everyone gawked at Jackson in disbelief of his words. His arm suddenly felt ten pounds heavier on your shoulders, and you felt a burning fury rising up in your throat at his completely rude and unwarranted display.

Josh, though, kept his cool, returning all his attention to the task in his hands.

“No, but I will tell everyone at the end of that bar that you’ve been pocketing tips as you bus their tables,” he said under his breath, leaving Jackson unable to speak.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Jackson refuted, his arm still heavy across your shoulders, making you more and more uncomfortable by the second.

Josh’s eyes confidently skidded across the bar to everyone else before landing back on Jackson, his hands never ceasing rolling his silverware. “You heard me. I’m not stupid, Jack. Matter of fact, why don’t you tell them right now, all by yourself? Go ahead…” Josh raised his voice a little at the end of his sentence, pointing his chin to the group.

“Tell us what, what are you saying down there?” one of them asked, all of their interest suddenly piqued.

Jackson’s head snapped back to look Josh in the eyes, which he returned with an overly-confident expression that said try me. Jackson’s arm slowly slid off the back of your shoulders as he sulked away, mumbling some really nasty words under his breath that you chose to keep to yourself.

Maybe it wasn’t all in good fun.

A full-body chill ran through you as you finally felt his touch leave your body, an overwhelming feeling of disgust overtaking you as you finally made eyes with Josh again once Jackson was far away. “What in the fuck was that?! Is he fucking crazy?” you asked, the rage still heavily present.

Josh shook his head as he rolled his last utensils, sliding his basket to the side as he pulled your pile of napkins to sit in front of him. “Yeah, no, he’s a fucking asshole. He puts on this funny-guy persona, but underneath it, he’s fucking piece of work,” Josh explained. He was keeping his cool, but you could tell that his words hurt him a little.

“Josh, that is not okay, it’s not alright for him to speak to you like that, especially in the workpl–”

“Just drop it, Y/N, okay? I appreciate your concern, but I’m used to it. From all angles. It just rolls off, now,” Josh said with the smallest hint of sorrow in his voice. “He tries to show off what he thinks is male dominance but all he does is make himself look like a fool. Plus he forgets that I have wayyy more seniority than him.”

“Yeah well, that’s all true but you don’t deserve to be spoken to that way. I’m going to say something to him,” you began to stand up, feeling the sudden overwhelming need to stand up for Josh.

“Stop, Y/N, stop…” Josh grabbed your arm, pulling you back down to the stool. “I’ve already taken care of it.” His eyes were telling you to calm down, but his hand on your arm said things were everything but calm.

“What do you mean?” you asked, fighting him off while also trying to flip through your categories of comebacks you could throw down Jackson’s throat.

Josh gripped your arm even tighter as he forced you back down into your seat, leaning over the bar as he brought his face close to yours. His face was hot as it came into your proximity, his hand still gripping hard on the muscle of your arm. “I slipped an anonymous note onto bosslady’s desk telling her I saw him sliding cash tips. She’s probably back there watching the security footage as we speak…” he whispered lowly, his eyes bouncing from your lips and back.

You plopped back down into your seat as he released your arm, sending a quick look back down to the group as they now looked just as uncomfortable as you. Josh resumed his work, acting as though nothing had happened as the redness left his cheeks. “Did he take any of mine?” you asked, suddenly curious.

Josh nodded. “I’ve been suspecting him for weeks, but I just tonight watched him do it. Now you know why I don’t let anybody else bus my tables…” he whispered, shooting his eyebrows up.

“Wasn’t he up for the assistant manager position?” you asked.

“Yeah, he was. He’s been here for a long time. But hopefully she is back there taking this seriously, who knows how much money he’s actually stolen,” Josh went on, running his tongue over his lips. You crossed your arms across your chest, feeling exhausted from the adrenaline rush of wanting to slam that guy’s head against the bar for calling Josh such horrid names and making fun of him like that. You could tell you were still seething.

“Let his karma take it’s course, Y/N. Don’t get yourself too worked up over it, or I’ll be forced to help you relax,” he said with a buttery-soft grit to his voice, almost as if Jackson’s actions hadn’t bothered him in the least bit. You admired his way of staying calm in situations where the normal person would panic and act out… it undoubtedly was the reason he has been at Angelo’s the longest, and why he always has the largest section in the restaurant. He’s level-headed, and probably always has been.

But the insinuation in his words didn’t go unnoticed. Suddenly your adrenaline rush to protect was overtaken by another kind of rush, one that Josh had brought on to you more and more over the past few weeks. “And how would you do that?” you asked, purposefully lacing your voice with the same sweet venom he had just used. The unabashed flirting had finally come to a head, where neither of you could hold it back any longer.

He shrugged one shoulder up. “I dunno, I’d figure something out,” he said with a wink that you almost missed. “Maybe I could let you be the judge this time, hm?” he suggested, circling back to the nearly perfect ten he gave you on your performance just a short week ago. Your chest surged with nerves at his insinuation, the blush rushing to your cheeks as he confidently slid the now full basket of perfectly rolled silverware right in between you. You sat back in your seat as you tried to push down the swirling in your stomach.

“Maybe so. We going to the bar tonight?” you asked with more boldness in your voice than your actual body was feeling. Your entire body was actually already buzzing with anticipation to feel him near you again, and you were eager to get a move on with the night ahead.

Josh shook his wrist as he glanced down at his watch. He rolled his lips into his mouth as his deep brown eyes shot back to yours. “You off tomorrow?”

“I am,” you responded.

He licked his teeth, taking in a sharp breath. “Me too.”

Just then the swinging double doors to the kitchen swung open with force, and your manager, Heather, burst through them with madness dripping from her aura. “Jackson, can I see you in my office, please? Now.”

Oh fuck.

Jackson shoved the broom that was in his hands into the corner, shooting daggers at Josh as he made his way toward her, the group again falling silent as they disappeared into the back.

“Shit, karma hitting a little sooner than we thought, huh?” you said, holding back a vengeful laugh.

Josh chuckled as he untied the ties of his waist apron, pulling the straps from around him as he huffed a breath. “Guess so. Let’s get the fuck out of here?”

—----

You followed closely behind him and the rest of the group as everyone made their way down the street to the bar, watching as he lightly conversed with a few of your coworkers as they questioned him about what the hell just happened back there, and what Jackson could have been talking about. You couldn't really hear the conversation, but you knew that he was likely handling it with ease, just as he handles every other situation he’s faced with with ease and grace.

You’d watched him talk to many-an unsatisfied customer as they yelled in his face about an incorrect order or a mishap, diffusing situations with the charm he had naturally built into him. You knew he probably kicked the most tips out of anyone that worked at Angelo’s, and for good reason. He was a pro.

You watched as Josh’s left hand slipped behind his back as he spoke to them, wiggling his fingers as he searched for your hand to hold his. You followed through, gripping the ends of his fingertips with your own, just to let him know you were there. He squeezed them tightly as he continued to talk, and the sweet gesture let you know that you were on his mind even though he hadn’t been able to speak a word to you since you clocked out.

You and Josh took your normal seats at the bar while everyone else retreated back to their designated booth, the night settling in even though it had only just begun. That inherent craving you had for Josh was always amplified with alcohol, and you knew that it would only be a few strong drinks before you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from letting your mind wander with the same thoughts that were probably already surging through his.

Roy approached you at the bar, laying out two white bar napkins in front of you. “Evenin’ guys. It’s been a while, where ya been?” You and Josh both exchanged a confused glance, realizing that it had indeed been a while since you’d been here.

“Uhh, just been a few long nights at Angelo’s, most of the time we’re all too tired to function after we leave, you know how it can be,” Josh said as he removed his old flannel and draped it across the back of his bar stool.

“Understandable,” Roy nodded. “Ok so, Josh, last time you were drinking the hard stuff. Want a beer tonight?”

Josh snickered. “Yeah, please. Whatever lager you have on draft is fine.”

“Be right up,” Roy offered as he knocked his knuckles on the bar.

You leaned in to Josh, catching a whiff of the cologne he must have thrown on as you both stuffed your aprons in your lockers. “Has it really been a whole week since we were here?”

He nodded slowly as he knitted his fingers together and leaned on the bar. “Yeah, I guess so… since the night I uh, stayed over.”

“Huh,” you mumbled as Roy set your drinks in front of you. “Why did we go so long without coming back?” A week was actually a good chunk of time to be gone from this place.

Josh hissed through his teeth as he plucked a toothpick from the tiny blue glass container on the bar, sticking it between his lips as he gazed at the TV above you. “Guess we just um… knew where the night might go if we did this again so soon. Wanted to wait it out, give it a few days.”

His admission made you feel all kinds of emotions at once– excitement, confusion, regret… Give it a few days? What does that even mean? The both of you downed your first round as if your lives depended on the alcohol within the glasses, both of you sure of the fact that you will need liquid courage for whatever escapades the rest of the night will hold. Or won’t hold…

You signaled to Roy for another round as Josh avoided your gaze, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy at what he’d said.

You slipped your hair behind your ear, feeling conflicted. “You don’t… You know we don’t have to do that again, Josh, I know we agreed to it, but–”

“No, Y/N, I want to,” he stopped you mid-sentence, bolting his head to the side to look into your eyes. “Believe me, I want to keep to that agreement.”

You sat back a little. “Okay, then… why did you want to wait it out? Are you sure you want the arrangement to be with me?”

His eyes ripped across you again before looking back at the TV, the toothpick still rolling between his thumb and fingers as he gnawed on the end of it. “Of course I want it to be with you… didn’t you want to drag it out a little? More fun when you can make it last, right?”

Again, his words stole all the breath from your lungs, almost making you choke on your refilled fizzy drink. “Um, yeah… I guess, I guess you’re right…” you choke out, unable to hide the fluster that had already overtaken you simply from him saying the words ‘make it last’.

Suddenly he’s laughing at you, gripping your opposite leg in his hand as he turns your body in the stool to face him. Your knees land between his legs as he holds you there, setting his toothpick down on his napkin as he takes a long drink of his new beer. He sets it back down as his eyes land on yours, his hand still gripping the thickness of your thigh.

“What’s with you, baby?” he asks quietly, leaning in as he cocks his head sideways. “Last time we were here you were knocking me over with your wit and confidence. Now it’s like you’re a baby bird who hasn’t found its wings yet… what’s got you all wound up?”

You, Josh. You’ve got me wound up tighter than a banjo string.

Your knees are jutted up into his groin and his face is only inches from yours, the smell of the hoppy beer on his breath mixing with the cigarette smoke from your coworkers on the walk over. He’s right… he’s managed to reduce you into a shell of a woman in the matter of a week, and you have to remember that you are only just friends.

You clear your throat as he forces you to find your true self again. “I dunno, I wouldn’t account it to you teasing me all fucking week, though.”

“Teasing you?!” he all but shouts, causing you to slap a hand across his mouth to silence him. He playfully bites at your hand to make you pull it away. “Is that what you think I was doing?”

“I’m no stranger to passing glances and subtle touches, Joshua. You may not have been teasing me, but you sure as hell acted like you missed the feeling of your hands on me,” you said with a little bit of sass in your tone. “Brushing your hand against me every chance you got, lingering stares… you aren’t slick.”

Josh could hardly help the grin that was growing on his face, his expression now plastered with a look so playfully sinister that you wondered how it was only a week ago that you were tempting him to come over to your house simply by offering to share a blunt.

He pushed his tongue up into the corner of his mouth, amused at your boldness. “There you are. And the funny thing is, I wasn’t trying to be slick, Y/N. I was doing that with all intents and purposes of flirting with you. Outright.”

You lean your body in closer to his, challenging him as you sipped from your skinny straw. “And friends can do that? They can flirt with each other openly?”

“You had your mouth on my cock seven days ago, sugar. I think that constitutes my right to flirt with you,” he replies with an emblazoned growl in his voice, making you feel like you’re melting into putty.

“Did you think it would make me want to invite you over again?”

“I fucking hoped it would, just wanted to put a little time between visits, ya know. Make you miss me,” he says, gripping his hand onto your thigh a little harder now.

“Make me miss you?! Don’t flatter yourself, Josh. I see enough of you at work,” you say with a wave of your hand. His hand sneaks higher on your thigh, and you find yourself thanking yourself for choosing to wear your slitted slinky black skirt to work today. The slit is exposing most of your thigh, of which Josh has wasted no time in reveling in. His hand is warm on your skin as the alcohol suddenly hits your system, immediately swirling your brainwaves with nothing more than thoughts of his hands traveling all over you, gripping at wherever he could get. All his attention locked in on you. The memories of your face between his legs again.

You smile at him as he leans in, shaking his head at you once again. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about last weekend every single waking moment since it happened, Y/N…” he growled into your ear. Your entire body shuddered at the feeling of his breath traveling over one of your most sensitive spots, making a slew of chill bumps arise on your skin against your own will.

The music in the joint suddenly got ten times louder as he pulled away, that damned sly smile still plastered across his face. You took a second to really look at him, the way his lips curved, the curls that balanced and framed his face, the way his eyes twinkled no matter how much darkness filled the room. He’d become a man you respected. Not only personally, but professionally, as well, and the respect was slowly but surely morphing into an emotion with a lot more weight to it. You were beginning to truly admire him.

“I have,” you whispered, covering his hand on your thigh with your own, forcing him to squeeze you even harder. Your heart rate had picked up so much speed, you were sure that he could hear it pounding over the sound of the music, but you didn’t care. His fingertips were burning into your skin, surely leaving behind marks that would be singed into your skin for weeks from the mere heat of them. Your actions were becoming blurs, desire overtaking your entire being as you craved the man sitting in front of you. A craving that would indeed be your downfall if you didn’t keep your head on straight.

Suddenly, Josh’s phone was buzzing on the bartop, two or three text messages coming through at the same time and catching his attention. The both of you looked at the screen as he picked it up, announcing it was messages from Heather.

His eyes scanned across the messages as you waited for him to finish reading, his face falling into one of such disappointment that it shocked you.

“What’s wrong, is she okay?”

He nodded as he locked his phone and put it face down back on the bar. “Yeah, she’s fine. She fired Jack.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Seriously?! Good! That asshole got what was coming for him! What else did she say?”

Josh shook his head as he sipped his beer again, “Ah, nothing.”

“Not nothing,” you said, lifting his phone from the bar to unlock it and read for yourself. “I know that look you just had.”

“Stop, Y/N, I swear,” Josh said as he tried to wrestle the phone from you. “Don’t–”

“How bad can it be?” you pressed, managing to pull the phone from his grasp and unlock the screen as you began to read aloud.

“Hey Josh, sorry to bother you this late. I’m sure you noticed when I pulled Jackson from sidework tonight that I wasn’t in the best mood,” you read. “It came to my attention that he had been sneaking cash tips for some time now, and I was able to catch him on video this evening doing just that. I’m sending this message to all of you to apologize on Angelo’s behalf and to let you all know that Jackson and I had a conversation about it and he will no longer be working with us. I apologize for not learning of this sooner, and for the fact that I cannot repay or reimburse any of the money that was taken from you or any of the other employees. I told Jackson that if he had any heart that he should find a way to make this right with each and every one of you, so I am in hopes that he does,” you went on reading quickly, taking a breath before continuing.

“On that note, I’m sure you know that Jackson was next in line to be promoted to assistant manager. Since that is no longer the case, I want to offer the position to you, seeing as how you have been here the longest and always show nothing but the best work you can. You’re my most trusted employee, and know this business inside and out. I know this has been offered to you many times in the past, but I thought I would extend it again. Think about it, and let me know your decision at your Sunday shift. Thanks again, Heather.” Your eyes nearly burst from your head as you realize that Josh was just offered the job that Jackson would no longer be taking.

“Josh! Babe! Why do you look so sad?! You just got offered a promotion!” you wailed, waving his phone around in the air.

He stretched his jaw as he ripped the phone from your hand and shoved it in his pocket. “Because, Y/N, I don’t want to be a manager. I want to serve my own tables, make my money, and go home.”

“But Josh, you’re so incredibly good at your job! Heather is right, you always give 100%, I swear sometimes I think that you could run that place better than our management could…” you relayed honestly.

He shook his head. “Nah, they’ve offered it to me time and time again, and I always give them the same response. I’m happy where I am, Y/N. I swear.”

“But I bet you you’d make more money, and you wouldn’t have to work as many shifts, and you wouldn’t have to be on your feet as much and you’d have the opportunity to engage more with customers and actually have time to talk with the regulars–”

“I told you, I don’t want that. I’m content,” he argued, seemingly wanting to end the conversation. “Can we just drop it?”

The disappointment you felt put a hole through your chest. If anyone deserved this promotion, it’s him. And he knows it. “Will you just think about it?” you asked, placing both hands on his shoulders as you gazed into his eyes and pouted out your lower lip. “For me?”

You felt his entire body relax, his shoulders slump and the corner of his mouth tilt into a tiny smile. His eyes locked in on yours once more, making your stomach begin to turn over on itself again. “For you?”

“Yeah, for me,” you nodded. “You deserve to give something like this some thought, Josh.”

He laughed through his nose. “Fuck, alright, alright. I guess. I don’t like how you just did that, though…”

“What?” you played innocent. “Are you mad that I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger?” You hold your pinky up in his face as you sip down the rest of your drink, really feeling its effects, now. He pulled your hand into his, forcing your whole body into his chest.

“No, that I’m beginning to have a harder and harder time telling you no,” he said.

You laughed as he poked a finger into your side. You were absolutely reeling at the fact that all of his attention was yours again, finally. It gave you a high you could hardly contain. You set your drink down and leaned into him, both of your hands rested high on his thighs as your knees still dug into his groin. “Oh, is that right? Then how about we have one more drink. Then we go back to your house… so you can let me be the judge of–”

Josh cut you off with his lips crashing into yours, hot and heavy enough to stop your breathing altogether again. After a second, you inhaled him, the feeling of his tongue running along your bottom lip sending a surge of excitement straight to your core. You kissed him back, but only for a short-lived second as the fuzziness in your brain reminded you that you’re in a very public place. You let your tongue brush against his quickly, tasting the sweetness of him for the shortest second before ripping yourself away.

You’re both breathless as you catch each other’s eyes again, red-faced and tensioned as you fight to put your lips on him again.

“One more drink?” he asked.

“One more drink.”

—--

Thankful that Josh’s house was only a few blocks down the road, you pulled into his driveway behind him, throwing your car in park as you yanked down your sunshield mirror and assessed the looks of yourself. “Not too shabby,” you whispered as you wiped the fallen mascara from under your eyes and ran some fresh chapstick across your lips. You flipped the visor closed just as Josh was opening your car door for you.

“Welcome to my humble abode, my lady,” he announced with an accent, holding his hand out for you to grab to step out of the car. You pulled the keys from the ignition and grabbed your purse before taking his hand, strong and sturdy as it pulled you from your seat. As your eyes adjusted in the darkness, you saw that Josh’s house was small, but quaint, a tiny front porch lined with white Christmas lights and covered with hanging plants. He had neighbors, but they weren’t too close at all, and a rather high wooden fence line surrounded the whole property.

You followed him up to the front where he pulled open the swinging screen door onto the porch, revealing a bunch of old mismatched furniture covered in colorful patio cushions that looked surprisingly comfortable. There was a small radio playing a staticy old country station, and an old blue cooler making a rusty buzzing noise. You watched as he sauntered over to it, lifting up the heavy silver lid. “Want a beer or a seltzer or something?”

“Um, sure. Seltzer, please,” you responded, still taking in the overly-adorable front porch and taking notes as to how you could make yours look the same. He tossed you the can and you cracked it open, watching as he kicked his shoes off onto a rug by the front door. You followed suit and removed your own, not wanting to be rude as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The air conditioning hit you in the face in the same way that hotel room A/C does when you’re on vacation, cold and bitter but welcoming all the same. It’s an older home, but you’d never be able to tell it with the way he had it decorated. Salt lamps and old art covered the white plaster walls, white tile underneath all his oriental rugs. A giant couch sat in the middle of the room that connects to the kitchen, filled with cookbooks and open shelves on the walls that were littered with colorful plates and cups.

“Do you have any roommates?” you asked, wanting to fill the awkward silence that had come out of nowhere.

“No,” he sang as he walked you into the living room. “My brother and I bought this place a few years ago, he lived with me for a year then he got a girlfriend and left me here all by myself, so.”

“Aw, Josh… I’m sorry,” you giggled.

He laughed too as he flipped on a lamp. “It’s okay. It was kinda the plan in the first place.”

You take note of the multitude of blankets strewn across the couch and the cabinet full of vinyl near the sliding glass door… the framed photographs of people and places alike that line the walls, and the lack of any television in his living room.

“No TV?” you asked.

“Nah, I’d never watch it anyway. Rather read or listen to music,” he said, his voice almost sounding a little nervous. “You wanna see the rest?”

You nod as you swallow a drink of your seltzer, following him down a short hallway. “Down there is the bathroom and spare bedroom… in here is just a room that catches all my junk… laundry room…” you smiled to yourself as you began to notice that he probably hasn’t had any visitors in a long while, and the last person that came was probably his now ex.

“What’s upstairs?” you asked as you followed behind him, walking through a wooden bead curtain.

“My room. The best room in the house,” he said.

“Oh? And what makes it that?”

He takes your hand in his, warm and soft as he pursed his lips together. “Come on, let’s get out of our work clothes.” It suddenly strikes you that you both still reek of pizza, are probably covered in sauce and spilled beer, sweaty and gross from your fairly busy Friday shift.

“Shit, Josh, I didn’t bring anything to change in to, I didn’t know I’d be–”

“Shh, baby. Friends share clothes, right?” he asked as you both ascend the old squeaky stairs, turning the corner at the top to the A-frame finished attic section of the home. You followed him in the darkness through more hanging plants and across plush rugs before you smelled a sweet earthy smell overtake your senses. Your hand was still in his, leading the way as he opened his door to his bedroom.

The walls were a deep plum color, lined with gold accents and more photographs and art, dim low-light lamps and a giant beanbag in the corner. It smelled heavily of incense, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on just what scent it was.

“Wow…” you whispered out, laughing a little as you did so.

“What?” he asks.

You walk further into the room, taking a seat on his full-sized mattress that’s covered in a plush olive velvet comforter and tons of giant pillows.

“Nothing, I… this is just not what I thought your house would be like,” you say, still in wonder that you kept seeing new, precious things every single place you look.

Josh joined you on the bed, bouncing it a little as he sipped from his own can. “Yeah, I like to think my room is like my escape from the real world, ya know? Come here to unwind, mostly. Oh, I forgot…” he got up and began searching through the drawers of his armoire, pulling out an old t-shirt and pair of shorts for you. “I’ll turn around.”

You laughed as you set your can on his nightstand, quickly getting undressed and changing into the clothing he gave you, while he stripped and did the same. “No peeking,” you said as he pretended to turn around, both of you knowing that you most likely would be seeing more of each other as the night went on. You took a second to breathe in the scent of his laundry, clean and floral as you pulled the holey white t-shirt over your head.

After you’d both changed, Josh took the opportunity and closed in on you again, gently taking your waist in his hands. “Like seeing you in my clothes… you look good…” he mumbled as he let his nose drift down your jawline.

You felt that same familiar chill run down your spine, already imagining him taking off the shirt that you had just put on. His hands gripped into your love handles, pulling you closer as his mouth drifted from your jaw to your neck, lightly sucking on the soft skin and pulling it between his lips.

“This okay?” he mumbled as your hands finally drifted up underneath his shirt, your nails lightly scratching at the skin.

“Mmhmm… very much…” you breathed, rounding your hands behind him to scratch along his back.

He made his way to meet your lips again, catching you off guard in the kiss that got cut short at the bar. His hands were fierce and his lips were fiery, his fingertips pulling at your skin as you kissed him back, letting your tongue push through his lips to show him how much you want him, too. The both of you worked to keep things cautious, knowing that you were pushing the borders of becoming too intimate for an agreement that is based solely on friendship and pleasure.

You broke away, mirroring his earlier actions as you tiptoed just a little to take his earlobe into your mouth, biting at the skin just below it as you blew whispers into his ear. Your hands were wrapped around his neck and you could feel his chest heaving, his hips pressing themselves into you as you finally felt his length pressing up against your core.

You let out a tiny pitiful moan, one that probably wouldn’t have been heard if the room wasn’t so quiet. He took you up in a tight embrace and held you there, your face caught in the nape of his neck as you both took a second to calm down, and breathe each other in.

“You feel really fucking good, Y/N…” he said with a vulnerable tone.

“So do you, Josh,” you agreed, your voice muffled by his shoulder.

“No, like, you just… I don’t know how to explain it. You just… fit right here,” he squeezed you harder in his arms, letting you know that this is exactly where he liked you most. You squeezed him back to let him know that you were in complete agreement, but also felt the need to separate again, not wanting to let things drift too far into waters that you hadn’t even talked about exploring.

So you pulled away, leaving your hands balanced on his stomach as you gave him a genuine smile.

“You wanna see the best part of the house?” he asked, smirking as he ran a recentering hand through his hair.

“Are we not in it right now?” you motioned up to the vaulted ceilings and hanging lights above you, twinkling away and casting warm shadows all over the room.

“Not really,” he said, turning and walking over to a set of tall doors, pulling on the gold handles to open them. You walked up behind him, seeing that the door led directly onto a flat, concave area on the roof. He flicked on a switch, letting another set of string lights illuminate the small space, showing a slew of more cushions and comfortable furniture nearly filling the floor of the whole thing. A tall spider plant took up most of the corner while the floor was littered with plush outdoor rugs, much the same vibe as was throughout the rest of the house.

“Holy shit, Josh… this is, this is gorgeous,” you said, walking outside and up to the edge of the roof, able to peek down into his fenced-in backyard. A giant Oak tree extended its branches all the way above the roof, providing the perfect makeshift covering for the outdoor spot. The crescent moon was hung low in the sky, providing just enough light to make the scene all the more romantic.

“This is the best part of the house…” he said, boasting a little as he removed the glass topper of a citronella candle, pulling a lighter out of nowhere and lighting the wick before replacing the tall glass cover.

“I think I might agree with that,” you say, taking a seat on one of the oversized cushions. “Come back over here,” you beckoned him, suddenly needing to feel his hands on you again. He did just that, placing himself next to you as he took you up in his arms again, peppering your face with pecks. You could tell something was just a little bit off, as it felt as though he was holding himself back.

“You alright, baby?” you asked, hoping that you calling him the pet name wasn’t overstepping too much.

He nodded into your neck. “I’m good. Just trying to find my mojo again,” he laughed.

“Believe me baby, you still have it,” you said with utmost certainty.

He pulled away a little, meeting your line of vision. “Really?”

You nodded, “Ohhh yeah. You do, no doubt about it.”

He laughed again as he trailed a finger along the inside of your thigh. “Well thank you. It’s just been, ya know.” He huffed a heavy breath. “It’s been kinda rough. And finding you, and befriending you, it was a really welcome treat,” he said, adding a few more fingers as he drifted them along your leg. You felt another set of chills overtake your body, wanting more from him.

“I’ll happily be your distraction, Josh,” you said, hinting toward being the person he used to fully get over his ex. “That’s not something I’m above.”

The thought of being that person to him was extremely intriguing, even though it sounded a bit different upon hearing yourself say it out loud.

“No, no, you’re not a distraction. You’re far from it. You’re… really you’re more of…” he struggled to find the words as his fingers drifted higher and higher to where you really wanted them to be. “You’re like a beautiful addition that I didn’t expect. And that might sound stupid, but… I really do appreciate your friendship, Y/N,” he admitted, biting his lower lip in.

It didn’t take much for your hand to find him again, tracing your finger along the column of his neck as you both reclined on the cushions.

“Not stupid, Josh. You’re the same for me. Finding you has been… an adventure, to say the least,” you smiled as you felt his curls fall onto your face, his head lying on your shoulder. And you were absolutely not lying; the day that Josh came into your life changed it for the better, giving you a whole new journey to embark on that you’d never once touched in your life, a new person to feel completely whole and trusting with, building a companionship from the ground up all while intertwining the needs you both had for the benefit of not only yourselves, but for each other. It’s been an experience of selflessness that you never even knew you needed, and if you had to guess, he didn’t know he needed it, either.

You enjoyed the presence of each other for a few more silent minutes, letting yourselves explore the potential of all that each of you held, but having enough self-control to not act on it, yet.

“So, our deal…” he finally spoke up just as you heard the late summer frogs begin to chirp from the yard below.

“Yes…” you urged him, letting your fingers pull at the hem of his shorts.

“I want you to be the judge tonight… if you want to,” he said with his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear it.

For whatever reason, his insinuation from earlier didn’t click with you at the bar. You hadn’t put two and two together that he wanted to return the same favor that you’d given him a week ago.

“Oh,” you muttered as you felt his hand creep higher.

“Again, only if you’re comfortable with that…” he said. You mulled it over for exactly one second before you began nodding quickly.

“I’m comfortable, but only if you are, too,” you said, wanting to give him the space to back out and not feel pressured.

“I used to be somewhat of a legend when it came to this,” he said with a stretch of his arms, pushing you further back into the cushions. “But that was many moons ago. If you’ll let me, I’d like to see if I still have what it takes… let you give me a true rating, just like I gave you..” he went on.

You bit your lips in, suddenly feeling a little shy, but also completely empowered at the comfortability of it all. “I think I can do that.”

There was a light breeze in the air, stirring up the smell of the citronella and whatever candle or incense he had burning in his room, making for what you felt was about to be a very immersive experience.

He took a deep breath, rolling to his knees as he knelt between yours. He hooked both of his fingers in your shorts and underwear, giving you another look of reassurance as you nodded his way. He swallowed hard as he began pulling them down until they were all the way off, and he tossed them to the side as his eyes finally landed on your completely uncovered lower half. You felt shy, but not in an embarrassing way; the way his eyes took you in made you feel as though you were the most beautiful wonder he had ever laid his eyes upon, soft and sweet and all for him, tonight.

“You’re gorgeous, Y/N,” he whispered lowly again, the flicker of the candle flame lighting up his doe eyes. He pulled your ankles up to his ears, turning his head to kiss the insides of your legs as they balanced on his shoulders. He worked his way down, switching from one to the other as he laid light kisses and pecks all the way down to your knees, sending you little looks of admiration every few seconds. After a few minutes familiarizing himself, he bent down, bringing himself closer to your core as he got comfortable laid out on his stomach.

“I’m gonna go slow,” he whispered as he placed his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him. You imagined that he was talking himself through it, so you went along with whatever he wanted to give you. You were fully exposed to him now, and though the feeling was a little uneasy, it didn’t feel wrong, in the least.

“You do whatever you want, baby,” you reassured him, running your hand through his locks. “I can’t believe we’re about to do this on your roof…” you laughed, covering your face as you tried to lighten the mood just a little. You heard his high-pitched giggle fill the air, the one he only let slip out when he thought something was really amusing.

“I know, I’m sorry…” he admitted, still laying wet kisses to the insides of your thighs.

“Don’t be sorry, I’ve just never done this outdoors before,” you cooed, scratching your nails into his scalp as your body was already heaving a bit, in search of the connection it was so craving. You felt your hips buck up a little on their own as they sought him out.

“You’re fucking dripping, baby,” he said as his tongue ran one languid strip along your slit, not yet making its way inside yet. His words sent your mind into a carnal, visceral reaction, and suddenly you pushed all the comfort talk to the wayside as you imagined him fully, admiring the wetness that he created. “You really want me this much?”

“Yes, Josh… been craving you, please…” you pleaded, suddenly no longer able to hold on to anything besides what was in front of you.

“Craving me? That’s a powerful word, lover,” he went on, teasing his tongue around your lips.

“Haven’t you?” you rebutted. “You told me at the bar I’ve been the only thing on your mind since last weekend…”

You heard him hum a sweet laugh. “Patience, sweet thing, I’m getting there.”

His mouth finally connected to you, the thickness of his lips pulling you into him, his hands gripping hard on your asscheeks. Finally his tongue was exploring you, switching between long strokes and pointed pokes into your opening, flitting his tongue as deeply as he could inside you. “Oh, fuck, Josh…” you called out, your hands digging harder at his curls.

He continued on, finally paying special attention to your clit as he brought his hand up to join his mouth, placing one finger on either side of it and alternating them as if he was pushing buttons. The indirect pressure was sending your mind into a frenzy already, even without the direct contact. He continued there for a few seconds before he licked his tongue up along you again, pressing it directly between his fingers and onto the sensitive bud. You felt the long-awaited and new overwhelming sensation, sending your head back into the pillows as he hummed onto you, vibrating his lips against it and sending an immediate convulsion through your body.

“Oh my god?” you perked up, finally looking him directly in the eyes, your knees bending up to squeeze his head. “What in the hell was that?! Fuckkkk….” you cried out, watching as he smiled on you. Cheeky fucker.

It was like he was starving for you, pulling you into him with heavy suction before extending his tongue back into you again, working your clit with his thumb as the top half of his hand added pressure down onto your abdomen. He was right, he knew exactly what he was doing. He just had to get familiar with it again.

He pulled away, out of breath and heaving as you felt the devastating disconnection. “Switch me, babe… want you on top of me,” he barked, motioning with his hands for you to hurry. He helped you sit up to kneel as he took your spot on the cushions, pulling at your thighs for you to come and straddle his face.

“Are you sure, Josh? This is–” you were breathless as you asked, already so close to orgasm and he hadn’t even shown off for you yet.

“M’ sure baby, come on,” he commanded, slapping your legs as he repositioned. Before you knew it his mouth was on you again, pulling you down with force as you cried out in pleasure again, completely uncaring if the neighbors could hear your moans from their back porches. Your hands were balanced on the wall to hold yourself up, his tongue still doing whatever it wanted between your folds. The sensation was overwhelming, all-encompassing as you were sure you’d never felt anyone take care of you like this before.

You could feel your wetness on his beard and mustache, the grittiness of his coarse hairs a bit grating, but you welcomed the bit of discomfort. You felt his hand come up, toying with your entrance as he paid special attention to your clit again, pulling it forcefully in and out of his mouth.

“Can I?” he asked, wondering if it was okay to go that far as his fingers did everything but enter you all the way.

“Yes, fuck, please,” you begged, the immense need to feel him inside you overtaking your decision-making skills. The next thing you knew, his two middle fingers were buried deep inside you, curling and twisting in a way that let you know that he had the fingers crossed, one right over the other. He pumped them in and out of you a few times, taking the breath completely from you as everything became almost too much to handle. You laid your forehead against the wall along with your hands, ignoring your own want to swirl your hips.

“Come on baby, you can…” he growled from beneath you as he tapped your hips again, his free hand still gripped hard on your ass. He’d read your mind, so you did, swirling your hips in a figure-8 while his fingers and tongue continued their work.

“Mmmhmm…” he hummed onto you as your pitiful cries filled the air again, your body weight fighting to keep itself upright. Your mind was blacking out as you felt the pleasure overtaking you in waves, the constant realization that you were outside, on Josh’s roof, letting him devour you making you all the more dizzy. Just envisioning the visual of the scene made you want to cum right then and there.

Suddenly he pushed you away from him, sliding his body down and out from under you, standing up on his knees again. He turned and pulled you backward by the waist as he bent you in half, pressing your head back down onto the cushion as he pulled your legs apart a little. You felt him maneuver himself again, leaning his head down as he gripped your ass in his hands again, connecting his mouth with you from behind.

“Fuck!!!” you yelped at the sudden change in position, and for how downright confident he was being. Intimacy was suddenly out the window. You arched your back for him, giving him greater access to your most sensitive places. His hands worked to separate your folds as his tongue delved deep again, sending you so close to the edge that you almost lost it.

Right then you knew that you needed more, you needed it all. Burying your face in the pillows for him was the only thing you wanted to do, from here on out. In whatever position he wanted… frontward, backward, upside down… You needed it. You needed to feel all of him. But you knew in the back of your mind that going all the way might not be in the cards.

At least not tonight.

Your cries were building up again as you swayed your hips for him, eliciting a heinous growl from somewhere deep in his chest. Every nerve ending in your body was lit up with electricity as you began to see stars, his constant attention directly where you needed it making all of your strings come untied. “Josh, fuck… I’m– close…” you cried out in a slew of breathless words.

He pulled away again, gripping under your belly and flipping you back onto your back. “Errrghhh,” you complained as he edged you again, and you could feel your jaw clenched together with rage.

“Don’t yell at me, baby,” he said. “Am I not giving you what you want?” His eyes were deep and hollow as the light flickered off of them again, making him seem more devious than he had ever looked before. He laid back down in front of you, pulling your knees to rest on his shoulders again. His fingers pressed into you again, and continued flicking deep inside of you, twisting up and curling as he pondered you.

You gripped your hand around the back of his neck, pulling yourself up to kiss him, uncaring of your own wetness now transferred onto you. He moaned into your mouth as your tongue searched for his, his hand never letting up as your body began to tremble again. You could feel the sheen of sweat forming on your head and cheeks as he unraveled you, his fingers so perfectly deep and his thumb still expertly working your clit, you were positive that there was nothing else existing in the world right now, besides him. You pulled away, meeting his eyes with a question that he had no idea you would even ask.

You didn’t even have to speak a word, he knew exactly what you were asking of him.

He broke eye contact, looking down at the cushions as he continued with his hand. “I want to baby, believe me… I fucking want to… I want you, too…” he captured your lips in a sweet and longing kiss again, letting you know he was right there with you. “Just…give me this… let me have you like this… and…”

You nodded, feeling the knot coming undone in your belly, anyway, unable to stop it even if you tried.

“Promise me, Josh… you will, we will… want you, want all of you…”

He nodded hard as he pressed his forehead to your cheek, your body almost completely bent in half as the backs of your knees rested on his shoulders. “I promise sweetheart… one day…”

With his promise and one particularly specific pump of his finger and thumb combination, you were falling over the edge, your whole body shaking and tremoring as you came undone for him, the sounds coming from your body almost embarrassing as you finally were able to hear your own wetness against the slap of his hand.

When you finally came down, his tongue was on you again, cleaning up the mess you’d both made and swallowing it down. “God, you’re fucking delicious, Y/N, I swear…” he praised as he ran his tongue along you again, sending your body into a fit of shaking overstimulation.

He pulled his t-shirt up over his mouth, wiping away any excess as he flattened your body back out, crawling up you to lay one last kiss to your now-soaked lips.

You took a long, deep breath, cleansing yourself of being devoid of proper oxygen intake for the past few minutes. He finally joined you on the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head as he looked at you with a smug grin. “Told you I was a legend,” he said, adding a giant cheesy smile along with his boasting.

“Okay, listen,” you said, slapping your hand onto his chest. “You can’t call yourself a legend, then ask for me to rate you. It doesn’t work like that,” you argued. “Unfair.”

“Okay, alright, whatever. Then what do you give me?” he asked, turning toward you and pulling your weak leg up over him.

You pressed your finger to your chin just as he had done when he was “evaluating” you. “Nine and a half.”

“What?! Now, that’s unfair, you can’t give me the same rating I gave you,” he complained. “Be serious, I’m a perfect ten.”

You swallowed hard, not wanting to tell him the real reason that you didn’t give him a ten was because the only way you know he could reach that level of perfection was if you could have him wholly and completely, though both experiences with him so far had been beyond stellar on all fronts, deep down, your thirst for him wouldn’t be satiated until that day. That, and the fact that you simply couldn’t let him beat you.

“Sorry, that’s my rating,” you shrugged him off, reaching down for your underwear and shorts.

“Well fuck me,” he complained, rolling to his back.

“I tried to,” you said in retaliation with a laugh, causing him to shoot his look your way.

He met you with a look that you hadn’t seen from him yet, one that told you that there was something you were missing, something that he refused to divulge, but you were honestly too scared to ask. He bit his cheeks in and broke away from your stare, taking a choppy breath again. “I know we promised, babe, but… we’ve gotta remember that we’re just friends, yeah? Just friends–”

“Friends with benefits. Right,” you answered for him in a clipped tone, unsure how to take it. You wished that you could put it all out in the open and discuss things how they lied, but what Josh didn’t know was that you shared his same feeling of uncertainty, both of you so swept up in the idea of one another that you were too scared to fall. Too scared to take a leap that the other one might not want to share.

Your feelings for Josh were growing. Sprouting new buds and new blossoms every single day, weaving themselves deeper into your bones than you had ever anticipated. But you could never tell him the absolute truth, it could ruin everything. It could turn your relationship up on its tail, causing the both of you to see the other in a light that neither of you even planned on shining in the first place.

That’s the devastation of it all, the realization of the possibility you might be physically compatible while sharing little to no other characteristics with someone who could end up being more than just a friend.

But the passion was there, you could feel it. It was almost tangible just now as he begged you to fly into oblivion for him, all at the touch of his hand. You couldn’t lose Josh, and he couldn’t lose you. Not right now, at least. The two of you had become dependent on one another, in all ways besides romantically.

If you took that step… if you both let your guard down all the way… would things still be the same? Did he even want you in that capacity? You were too scared to ask, you were too scared to know.

So, you cleaned yourself up, replaced your panties and shorts and followed Josh back into his lavish bedroom, letting him pull you up underneath his protective arm under his sheets and blankets, kissing you on the forehead as the two of you drifted off into a sleep that begged for more. The both of you lying to yourselves right where you were, waiting for the feelings to dissipate.

Or worse, manifest themselves in a way that was much more gruesome than something a friend with a benefit could ever, ever give.

xoxoxo jules

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concreteburialplot · 2 months ago

Text

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

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kissingkiszka · 5 months ago

Note

so im currently having some 🌶️thoughts🌶️ about Sams hands🥵…do what you please with this request please and thank you

Slow Hands - Sam Kiszka x Reader (smut)

Requested! Ask and you shall receive…

Words: 1.1K+

Summary: On a hike, Sam notices that reader has been eyeing up his hands and wants to do something about it…

CW: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, hands, finger!ng, praise k!nk, degradation k!nk, pet names, fem reader, hiking, smoking, sexual acts in a public space, possibility of voyeurism (?), Idrk

———————————————————

You and Sam sat on a rock by the creek, enjoying your afternoon. You had just gotten done eating your lunch, when you decided to take a small hike over to the creek. The forested area was beautiful. You went for a small swim in the water, and found a spacious rock to relax on afterwards. Listening to the creek flow made it even more relaxing and enjoyable, on top of your amazing boyfriend, who was quite the view just by himself.

Sam reaches into his backpack pocket and pulls out a small blunt. “Look at us, Y/N. In the trees, smoking a tree.”

He lights up, deeply inhaling. You watch the way his fingertips clutch the blunt, and that sight alone is enough to send chills down your spine. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Holy fuck, that shits good.”

He leans back, propping himself up with his free hand. You glance down, taking note of veined and calloused hand, his veins being even more accentuated due to him holding himself up. He takes in the view of the flowing water and the trees all around. Meanwhile, you can’t even take your own eyes off of him. You were do entranced by him, your own thoughts and desires had completely taken over the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, your breath caught in your throat, only to realize it when Sam turned to you, holding the blunt up to his mouth. “You alright?” He asks, slightly concerned. He blows out more smoke and his brows furrow out of concern.

And damn, does he look good doing it.

“Hm?” You ask, confused.

“I dunno.” He shrugs. “You gasped.”

“I did?” You gulp down your embarrassment of the confrontation.

“Yep.” He nods, his lips pressing together. “Thought you swallowed a fly.” He jokes.

“Dunno.” You shrug.

“Just making sure you’re alright.” He smiles, rubbing your shoulder. You feel a heat building inside at the thought of his strong hands touching you. Even worse that they’re actually touching you now.

Your head falls back at the feeling of his hand on your shoulder.

“You like that?” He grins, moving his other hand onto your other shoulder. The shoulder rubs become a full on massage.

“Mhm.” You mumble, feeling his hands roam around your back.

The massage quickly became more sensual, it progressed until his hands were exploring your entire body. You were experiencing true bliss.

“I wanna kiss you right now, princess.” He whispers, his face inching closer towards yours.

“Then do it.” You replied.

He leaned in fully, his lips colliding with yours. You felt fireworks exploding inside your chest. As if the burning fire of desire inside of you wasn't enough already. You were on the way towards combusting any moment now. You absolutely needed him, and you needed him quickly.

“Your lips are so soft. Fuck, sweetheart.” He mumbled.

“Sam.” You plead. “I need you.”

“You have me.” He smirks, his veiny and strong hands slowly traveling lower and lower down your body.

His hands land on your lower waist. His finger begins to play with the hem of your bikini bottom.

You nod, giving him the go ahead. As his fingers travel down lower, your breath catches in your throat once more.

“Wait-”

“What is it sweetheart?”

“What if people see us?” You ask.

“There's nobody here, honey. We’re surrounded by trees in the forest. If we hear someone, we’ll stop. Just try not to be too loud, ‘Kay?” He reaffirms any concerns you have.

You nod, “Kay.”

“Good girl.” He says lowly before he continues moving your bikini bottom to the side. “Did I tell you how good you look in this?” He lifts his chin and looks into your eyes. “This blue really suits you.”

Without warning, he swipes a passionate finger down your soaked folds.

You’re able to make out a bleak ‘thank you’,completely taken over by his fingers.

“Of course, Princess. Such good manners.” He spits out, running his fingers up your entrance. His pointer finger and middle finger land on your clit, eliciting a moan from you.

“Quiet now, baby.” He reminds you.

“Mhm.” You comply.

He continues to run his hands down your slit before entering inside of you.

“So wet.” He sighs. “And I know it’s not from all that swimming we just did.” He lets out a sinful chuckle as his fingers continue to explore your dripping pussy.

You shudder at the sensation, never wanting him to stop. You attempt to grab onto the rock for some leverage, but obviously, you ultimately fail.

“I know you love it. My hands.” He shakes his head, smirking. “I can tell you’ve been staring at them all day long. Don’t they feel so nice inside of you? You dirty girl.” He says, pumping his fingers inside. “Is this what you wanted? To be fingered by me?” He questions, unrestrained.

“Please.” You whimper, to which he ignores.

“Please, Sammy.” You repeat.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Keep going, please.” You plea.

“So needy.” He inhales a sharp breath. He’s just as turned on as you are right now, and you can tell by the rock hard outline of his cock pushed up against his swim trunks.

He plants a passionate but quick kiss to your lips, while you stay hungry for more. You’re eager for him, you’re desperate.

Meanwhile, he takes his thumb and begins to circle your clit with it. The sensitive bud is throbbing and aching, and you’re nearing release.

“Sam.” You plead through weak breath. “Fuck.” You shiver, your back arching at his touch.

“I know, I know.” He murmurs.

You open your mouth to let out a moan before you cover your mouth with your hand, remembering what Sam had told you.

“You remember what I said? Hm? So well behaved for me, baby.” His praises huskily, his fingers venturing deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Sammy.”

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Fuck.” You pant, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back in pleasure.

“You gonna cum soon? Hm? Be a good girl and cum for me.” He eggs you on, and he’s loving it.

“Yes!”

“Good. Only good girls cum for me.” He says picking up the pace. Release quickly catches up to you before you know it.

You continue to squeeze your eyes shut as a hazy wave of stars comes over you. Your vision goes blurry and your mind draws a blank as you come back down to reality. He moves his fingers away, sliding your bikini bottom back into place.

“Holy shit!” You chuckle, catching your breath.

“You’re amazing.” He laughs along with you, before leaning in and kissing your cheek. “I’m so glad I could please you.”

You blush. “Oh, you did exactly that.”

“I love you.” He smiles.

“I love you too.” You reciprocate.

“Shall we finish off our hike?” He goes to stand and reaches out his hand for you to take.

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samfkiszka · 3 months ago

Text

A Hard Day's Night

★・・・・・・★

It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log, But when I get home to you, I find the things that you do, Will make me feel alright…

or… An enemies to fuck-buddies Sam x Fem!Reader One shot

Word Count: 6,493

WARNINGS: SMUT!! 18+ ONLY! Oral (female receiving), dry humping, unprotected PIV sex (wrap it before you tap it i guess), maybe some shitty editing… not sure what else but if i’m missing something feel free to let me know!

a/n: listen… the enemies to lovers sam fics are probably over done and i KNOW he’s a little sweetie pie and i adore him deeply and i know he’d never be mean but i just… needed to write a little silly bit… anywho…

★・・・・・・★

Heat lightning flashed against the sky, splitting the inky black in two as Josh drove ridiculously fast down the dirt road that led to the apartment he shared with his twin brother. The warm air weaving through the open windows brought in the soapy scent of the dogwoods that were beginning to bloom all around town. These weekly drives had become a bit of a tradition. Every Friday, Josh would pick you up from work, his voice carrying loudly over whichever song he had chosen to blare from his worn out speakers that night. He would greet you with an enthusiastic grin, asking you about your day and then proceeding to tell you about his own. He’d drive you to his place, and you’d share a poorly cooked meal with his brother. And then the three of you would sit through some old movie, while he explained every single behind the scene facts he knew off the top of his head.

And this had gone on for almost three years. Three years with two of the kindest, happiest people you had ever met. You had even met their parents– equally as loving and wonderful. You had gone on weekend trips with them, gone to every short film showing that Josh orchestrated, every shitty party they would throw in their cramped apartment. You’d listen to Jake play the guitar late into the night, to Josh hum along even when he didn’t know the song. You’d grown to love the two of them, deeply. They were more than friends at this point– they had become your family.

Speaking of their family… there was just one blemish on your relationship with your two favorite people in the world. Their brother, Sam. You hadn’t quite understood what happened when the two of you first met. The… dislike was almost immediate. Josh had been so excited for you to meet his baby brother, rambling for weeks about how much the two of you had in common and how easily you were going to get along. And why would he expect any differently? You had already gotten along well with them, his sister, his parents– who would have thought Sam would be the one outlier.

You didn’t quite hate each other. No, hate was entirely too strong of a word. But on the rare occasions that you crossed paths it was definitely less than pleasant. Josh had been correct about one thing: the two of you were eerily similar. Equally stubborn, though you’d never admit it outloud. Prone to bickering, him more than you. Likely to hold a grudge. He brought out all the things you dislike most about yourself.

So they kept you apart. Jake had begged Josh to schedule the two of you around each other, especially after the last time the two of you were in the same room at the same time.

Which is why you were surprised to see Sam's entirely too expensive, entirely too shiny, burgundy car sitting in Josh’s usual spot. This explained why Josh had been slightly dodgy when you asked about his day earlier.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” You asked, turning to Josh while he parked the car and cautiously took the keys out of the ignition.

“Don’t get mad. He got here a day early. I mean, you can’t still be upset about last time,” Josh rushed out, flinching when he finished.

“I’m not going to hit you Josh. And of course I’m still mad about last time. He called me a-”

Well. You weren’t in the mood to repeat it.

“In his defense you did say he-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” You interrupted, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to stop remembering the last time you and Sam were in the same room.

“Seriously, can you just try? We already talked to Sammy, and he promised to be on his very best behavior. As long as you promise not to throw anything.”

“I’m mature enough to keep my hands to myself. As long as he does.” You stuck your pinky out, waiting on Josh to accept your silent promise.

He wrapped his around yours, grinning softly up at you, “I'm glad you’re gonna try. I love you both so much. It would mean the absolute world to me if you guys could just… coexist. That’s all I’m asking for.” He gave your hand an extra squeeze before letting go and throwing his seat belt off hurriedly.

He practically skipped with enjoyment to his walkway, wiping his feet off against the worn welcome mat you had gotten him so long ago. You followed behind, decidedly less excited for the night that lay ahead of you. He ushered you to the front, pushing you through the chipped door. You were welcomed by Jake’s beaming face, the wonderful aroma of whatever they had decided to make for dinner, and… Sam.

His back was turned away from you, his hair piled at the base of his neck in a wild bun. He was chopping something on the wooden cutting board you had gotten Jake for his last birthday– the one branded with his initials and a pirate ship in the corner. This apartment was riddled with you. Your clothes left in their laundry room, your extra toothbrush laying on their bathroom sink. Hell, you even had a half empty bottle of body wash stuck in their shower. Little gifts you had gotten them for birthdays, and Christmas, and just because littered their entire living space.

You were sure Sam hated the constant reminders of your existence. Just as much as your stomach churned when you were reminded of him. His bass, often left in Jake’s room. Pictures of him exploding over the fridge, every once barren shelf. His sweatshirt, the one he constantly seemed to forget, the one that smelled so much like him that it was intoxicating.

Whatever. You were going to be fine! You promised Josh, and you had yet to break a promise to your best friend.

Jake welcomed you instantly, pulling you into a rib crushing hug. No matter how often you saw him, he always greeted you like you had spent years apart.

“How was work?” He mumbled into your neck, his ear splitting smile evident in his voice.

“Awful, but isn’t it usually?

He pulled away, his brow furrowed with worry. “I’m sorry, sunshine. Hopefully dinner can make up for it, huh?”

“Your cooking? It might make my night worse,” you laughed, plopping down on the same sofa you had spent many a night occupying.

“Hey! I’m a fantastic chef,” he complained, ruffling your hair indignantly, “plus, I’m not the one cooking. Sam is.” He shrugged towards Sam, who was busying himself with whatever meal he had decided to make.

You watched him intently, admiring how swiftly he worked with a knife. You bit your tongue, not wanting to insult him with a possible murder weapon in his hand.

He turns to face you at the mention of his name, and all you could do was wave awkwardly and ignore the buzzing anger that filled you when he refused to respond. Jake and Josh didn’t miss the moment, but they too decided not to dwell on it. They chose instead to sit next to you, flipping through channels until Jake landed on an old pirate movie that was already halfway through airing– one he had seen a million times.

It was almost a normal night– if you ignore the burning urge to make a quip at Sam, to egg him on to do the same. Sure, if anyone asked you’d swear up and down that the man was the bane of your existence. But on a much deeper level, in a way you would never admit outloud… you actually enjoyed the banter. The teasing. The way you could feel him staring at you across the room, even when his gaze was angry. Even when his face conveyed a range of emotions you could never quite pinpoint.

Yes, it was undeniable– you did in fact miss the usual biting conversation the two of you shared. It was all it took to remain normal while Sam continued cooking, silently, Jake and Josh joked around beside you. You were abnormally quiet as well, at least quieter than you ever had been with them. Something about Sam’s refusal to speak to you was starting to drive you insane.

Maybe he had nothing nice to say… so he said nothing at all. As childish as it was, it was all you could think to explain away his unusual silence. And maybe that was better than anything.

At least that’s what you told yourself. That’s the mantra you repeated over and over again as he continued to ignore you. Sure, he had no problem talking to Jake and Josh. All through dinner, he didn’t shut up. Talking about his new job, his new car, his new bass, something funny Danny did, something that happened in his astronomy class– seriously, it was non-stop. You couldn’t get a word in edgewise. In fact, the only time he actually went silent was when you opened your own mouth.

“Sam, can you pass me the salt?”

Nothing. Cue Jake begrudgingly reachinging across the length of the table to slide you the shakers.

“You really did a great job cooking, Sam.” Surely a compliment would fuel his ego enough to garner a response.

Nothing yet again.

“So, are you staying over?”

“Yep.”

Finally, Something.

You were used to spending the night at Josh and Jake’s place. You’d fall asleep on their couch, and one of them would take you home the next morning with the promise of seeing you again soon.

Well.. you’d try to fall asleep on their couch. Not like it was awful; Josh did everything he could to be a good host. And Jake would regularly shell out extra blankets when you complained about the insanely cold temperature they insisted on keeping their shared living space. You never quite figured out what stopped you from enjoying a good night’s sleep. Truth is, it happened everywhere you went. Even your own bed imposed the same struggle, the same sleepless nights spent tossing and turning until the sun came out. You had tried everything short of asking Jake to physically knock you out. It was something you had to deal with, something that was entirely your own problem.

Yet, you had never spent the night at the same time as Sam.

You didn’t miss Josh’s smirk.

“He’s crashing in my room,” he explained, “Jake and I are bunking it. Pulled out the air mattress and everything.”

“Yeah, it’ll be just like middle school,” Jake laughs.

“How come you guys never bunk it when I spend the night. Your couch is ridiculously uncomfortable,” you whine, feeling annoyed when all three of them laugh back at you.

“Unless you and Sam want to share the so-called ridiculously uncomfortable couch, this is the arrangement. Sorry sunshine.” Josh stretches as he stands up, gathering the empty dishes from their secondhand dining table. A small part of you wished Sam was here to cook every time you were over; this had been better than the plethora of somehow burnt freezer meals that his brother’s tended to fuck up.

“I’ll bring you some blankets,” Jake offered while trailing behind his twin, leaving you alone with Sam.

And the two of you sat in silence once more. No yelling. No bickering. He didn’t even glance up from his hands as he absentmindedly picked at the calluses around his fingers.

And it drove you crazy. Sure, you had promised Josh no conflict, But did no conflict mean he couldn’t even spare you a passing glance? Couldn’t bother to acknowledge your simple existence?

Jake rushed back in, eyeing you two worriedly while he tossed a handful of blankets and lone pillow onto their worn couch. You thank him quickly, sliding up from the table with a huff while you make your way to their bathroom to get ready to struggle to fall asleep for the rest of the night.

You admired the way they had made it feel homely for you: your red toothbrush resting next to their blue and green one, a bottle of your almost empty face wash nestled in between their own. It was just as much their bathroom as it was yours at this point. You didn’t miss the fact that a new toothbrush had joined your previously perfect trifecta– Sam’s identical red toothbrush lay on the opposite side of the sink, a lone tool, separate from you three. Maybe Josh was right. Maybe you and Sam were just too similar. Maybe you were both too stubborn to get along.

You hadn’t realized how aggressive you had been with your brushing until you pulled our toothbrush back, the bristles almost flattened out completely. You just had to get through the night. And was his ignoring you all that bad? Sure it irked you, how he could so easily behave like you just didn’t exist. But you supposed it was better than fighting, better than potentially destroying your relationship with Jake and Josh. After all, Sam was their brother. You were just a friend, just some girl that Josh had met on a whim just a few years back.

So you’d keep the peace. You’d ignore the nagging feeling in you begging to do something to get a reaction, the feeling you had never ignored before. The feeling that pushed you to tease him, to start and continue arguments. The feeling that sent shivers up and down your whole body when he’d angrily retort back.

Whatever. Who cares?! It’s not like he’s going to be a part of my life forever… just as long as I’m friends with his brothers.

So, forever. At least that’s what you intended when you met the twins. You can’t imagine not being a part of their lives, and in turn this meant you had to be a part of Sam’s life. No matter how small that part was. No matter if he never uttered a word to you again.

You made your way back to the now silent and empty living room, sighing with relief when Sam was nowhere to be found. You could vaguely hear Jake and Josh talking in the next room, but about what you didn’t know. Sam’s room was eerily quiet, much like himself just moments before. You flopped down on the couch unceremoniously, cringing when it groaned under your weight. Jake had left a plethora of blankets from you, even slipping in a tattered old sweatshirt depicting his old high school logo. You pulled it on, fluffing the flat pillow he kept mostly for you. You had become all too familiar with their ceiling over the years. Every bump, every discoloration, every bit of peeling paint. Even the faded glow in the dark stars the three of you had stuck on the ceiling in a bout of drunken childishness. Exactly twenty seven– the last three had fallen off.

The crickets that chirp in the small patches of grass surrounding their apartment complex sounded louder than usual. The ticking clock that Josh insisted on hanging on the wall seemed jarring. You felt wide awake. You weren’t sure why you insisted on spending the night. It was miserable, begging your body to fall asleep, waiting impatiently for someone else to wake up and keep you company. But it pleased Josh, having you over, knowing you felt safe enough to spend the night. You’d never tell him about your failures to fall asleep, how impossible it was to feel restful. It wasn’t his fault– this was something you struggled with your entire life. There was nothing he could do to fix it.

And so you lay there, counting the ticks, adjusting every few moments. It felt like hours passed of you just listening. Listening to the sounds of the snores Jake swore didn’t belong to him. Listening to the soft patter of rain outside.

Listening to a door click and softly swish open.

You lay still, steading your breathing, not wanting to worry whoever came out. The floor creaked softly under light footsteps as whoever they belonged to padded to the kitchen. The fridge door opened slowly with a groan, the light illuminating the room with a blue glow.

“Can’t sleep?”

You nearly jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” You lean up, taking him in. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that hung low on his waist, and a too big white t-shirt that clung to him in odd areas.

“Sorry,” he laughed, shutting the fridge with a thud.

“Why are you up?” You glanced at the clock, wondering how the hell you had managed to be up this late.

“Same as you, I suppose. Can never sleep right.” He shrugged, so casually it was like the two of you had never fought once.

Yet another thing the two of you had in common.

He pulled a drawer open, grabbing a lighter and bringing it up to his face, where a cigarette was dangling precariously off his slightly parted lips. The flame danced in the darkness of the kitchen before he quickly let it go, inhaling deeply and blowing a thick cloud of gray smoke out. You shifted uncomfortably for a moment, not quite knowing how to fill the silence. The warm, familiar smell of his particular brand of choice slowly infiltrated your senses.

“Josh will kill you if he finds out you were smoking in here,” You proclaim, matter-of-factly.

“How is Josh going to find out? You gonna snitch?” He smirked, taking a step closer to where you sat.

“Maybe. If you piss me off.”

“Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Not unless you plan on pissing me off.”

“I never plan on it, it just sort of happens.” He shrugs, a smug look washing over his features. He sat down next to you with a huff, holding his half-smoked cigarette out to you.

“I don't smoke,” you reply plainly, turning your head away from the steady stream of gray smoke billowing out of the lit object.

It was a lie. A secret you had kept for quite a while, a bad habit that you only partook in occasionally.

“C’mon…”

You knew he knew. He had caught you smoking outside of the twin’s birthday party last April. You were shocked he never told anyone, never held it against you. And you couldn’t deny that you had been itching for a smoke all week.

You reach out your hand, awaiting the feel of it between your fingers, but it never happens. Instead, he cups your cheek, turning your face towards him. He carefully brings the cigarette closer to you, placing it between your partially open lips. You inhale deeply, the cherry red color illuminating the space between the two of you.

“You know, you aren't half bad when you aren't being a complete brat,” He whispers, his eyes studying your face.

“A brat?” You laugh, passing the cigarette back to him. “If anyone’s a brat, it’s you.”

He turns his head to the side, blowing smoke away from your face with a grin. The two of you sit in silence for a beat, yet this silence lacked the hanging awkwardness from earlier. It was suddenly comfortable, the both of you wordlessly passing the cigarette back and forth before it reached the butt. He stood, tossing the dead cigarette out into the twins' trash, shoving it far enough down that they’d be none the wiser.

“That couch is really fucking uncomfortable,” He groans, stretching his back out, “I can’t believe they make you sleep on that.”

“It’s not that bad.”

It really wasn’t. Sure it dipped in odd places, the fabric was wearing off in patches, and it tended to be a bit scratchy… but anyone else could fall asleep on it easily.

“You know… Josh’s bed is pretty big. If you want, you can come sleep with me.”

“What?” You sputter, taken entirely off guard by his proposal. Sleep in the same bed as him? Was he insane?

“Just an offer.” He shrugged, “Probably be a hell of a lot easier to sleep on than a couch they found on the side of the road.” He rolls his eyes at your almost disgusted expression, “Nothing gross, freak.”

He had a point. But still, this went against everything you had ever thought about Sam. Well… maybe not everything. Of course, there had been the rare occasion where your eyes would linger on his hands, his lips, his eyes. You’d mentally chastise yourself for it, ignoring the burning urge to keep looking, choosing instead to provoke him and start some immature argument.

“Just thought I’d ask,” He sighs, turning towards the hallway.

“Wait, Sam,” you start, gripping the blanket Jake had loaned you, “Fine.”

He chuckles, watching as you hop off the couch, dragging your blanket and pillow behind you, “You know Josh’s bed has blankets. And pillows.”

“Oh, yeah.” You drop what you were holding unceremoniously, letting it hang off the couch haphazardly. You follow behind Sam, feeling a rush of heat flare up on your face. Were you really about to sleep next to him? In Josh’s bed?

You knew there was no deeper meaning behind it. You were definitely overthinking it. He was just being nice, extending an olive branch of sorts. Maybe whatever Josh had said to him had worked.

He opens the door quietly, revealing Josh’s perfectly cleaned room. Decorated sparsely, yet so utterly like him. Sam’s bag lay raggedly in the corner, the contents spilling out onto the floor. The bed was still made, like he hadn’t even attempted to sleep yet. He sighed, flicking off the lamp that rested on the bedside table.

He tugged the white shirt off, tossing it near his back. Your eye raked over his exposed torso, his chest, his abdomen, his thighs. Your own pajamas suddenly felt restrictive, too tight, too warm. You toy with the hem of Jake’s loaned sweatshirt, feeling increasingly awkward. He flopped down onto the bed, ruffling the perfectly tucked in top cover. He folded his arms behind him, leaning propped up against the headboard.

“You gonna lay down or you just gonna stand there?”

You roll your eyes, climbing over to the other side of Josh’s monstrously oversized bed. You pull down the blankets, struggling a bit with how tightly Josh had shoved them into the corners. Sam was right– the bed was a whole lot comforter than that couch. No wonder Josh had been holding out on you.

“Goodnight,” Sam mumbles, turning to the side and giving you a wide berth.

The rain had picked up outside, beating against the window loudly, echoing around the room. Sam had left the fan on, and you were thankful for the chill against your way too hot skin. Sure, the bed was a lot easier to lay on than the couch, but you suddenly felt twenty times more uncomfortable. You shifted once, pushing some of the covers away from you. You shift again, pulling the pillow parallel to your. You move once again, and–

“Quit squirming,” he bites. He turns over to face you, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Sorry, I can’t get comfortable.”

“Really? Wanna go back to the couch?”

A bolt of thunder interrupts his quip, shaking the whole of the apartment. You move closer to him without thinking, ignoring the quizzical look he gives you.

“Guessing that’s a no. Just stop moving around so much.” He turns back on his side, his face hidden again.

“I’ll just go back to the couch, I don’t want to-” Another boom outside, closer this time.

Sam jumps a bit, inching even closer, hiding the movement with a cough, “It’s fine.”

The heat of his body, the closeness of his bare skin, sends jolts of electricity through your body.

What the fuck was going on?

You squeeze your thighs together, embarrassed by how desperate you were for any sort of friction. If you had told yourself, even yourself from an hour ago, that you’d be in bed with Sam Kiskza of all people… who knows what you would’ve thought. Much less that you were in bed, images racing in your brain about ways he could be touching you, ways you could be touching him.

“Seriously, why the fuck can’t you sit still?” He sits up, his face flush with irritation. God, why was that so hot?

Your cheeks instantly turn a deep red, your eyes locked into his. You didn’t have an answer, at least not one suitable to speak aloud.

Something like, I can’t stop thinking about the way you furrow your brow when you're angry. Or, They way your hands look when you do literally anything. Or, The way you’re staring down at me now, like I’m in trouble-

“I- I don’t know,” you whisper, unsure of what else to say.

“You don’t know?”

You shrug, trying to ignore the way his hair frames his face, the way you can still make out his chiseled features even in the dark.

“Just- C’mere.” He reaches out, pulling you into his body. You’re flush with his bare skin now, a position you never thought you’d find yourself in.

“Sam, what are you-”

“Shut up. Lay still,” He sighs, stretching out just a bit and adjusting his grip on you.

But something about him directly ordering you to do something makes it even more impossible to sit still. Makes it even harder to ignore the persistent ache in your core. You were sure it was painfully obvious now, how increasingly desperate you were for anything, any kind of touch. Attempting to imperceptibly move again, garner any kind of relief, anything, was probably a death sentence.

But you did it anyway. Moving slowly, trying not to budge too much, trying not to wake him up again.

“You know, it’s pretty obvious what you’re trying to do,” he mumbles, eyes still closed, arm still wrapped around you.

“What is it that I'm trying to do?” You ask, hoping to sound innocent enough to avoid suspicions.

“Moving against me like that. Looking a little desperate,” He teases.

“What the fuck, Sam?”

He was painfully correct. Not like you’d admit it.

“I’m just saying, I can help with that problem. If you wanna go to sleep. Probably be a lot easier if you just let me take care of you.”

Seriously, what the fuck was happening.

“Offers on the table,” his voice was husky with exhaustion, “until I fall asleep.”

Your mind races, filled with inappropriate thoughts– things you probably shouldn't think about your best friend’s younger brother. Things you shouldn’t think about the guy that you swore you… strongly disliked.

“If you’re joking, I’m going to kill you,” You whisper again, too afraid to speak at full volume.

“Seriously?” His eyes fly open, and he nearly pushes you off him out of surprise.

“Wait… what if they hear us?” The idea of being caught shoots waves of panic up your spine.

“I have an idea. Just trust me, I promise we won't get caught.” He pushes his pinky out, and memories of your earlier promise to Josh come flashing in your mind.

“A pinky promise?” You ask. The two of you definitely did have a lot in common.

He shrugs, not knowing the full weight of the movement. You link your pink around his, avoiding his eyeline.

In one motion, he flips you over, leaning directly over you. He pulls a stray hair tie from his wrist, twisting his long hair up into a messy bun at the base of his neck. He leans down, his lips mere centimeters away from yours.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is barely audible, so sincere and sweet that your heart skips a beat.

You nod, failing to come up with any semblance of response. When he doesn’t move right away you find yourself lifting up your head to meet him. But he moves before you get close enough, earning an agitated whine from you.

“Mm-mm, need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” you huffed.

“So impatient. Relax, okay? That’s the whole point.”

He leans down, closing the distance between you two. His lips are soft, tinged by the taste of smoke and mint toothpaste. His calloused hands roam down the sides of your body, toying with the hem of your– Jake’s– sweatshirt . For a second he was tentative, slow and calculated in his movements before behaving with a bit less restraint. You feel his tongue swipe against your lips, and without a second thought you find yourself parting slightly to let him inside. His heartbeat hammered against your body, causing yours to race even faster. Warmth spread across your chest, seeping into each limb as he moved slowly under your shirt, inching closer and closer to your chest.

You arch into his touch, letting out a quiet whimper as you feel him brush against your breast. He takes this as a signal to grab what he wants, kneading the soft flesh between his rough and calloused hands. He moves down your body, placing warm, open mouth kisses along your jawline and neck.

You absentmindedly roll your body against him, drinking in the soft whine that slips past his parted lips.

“Fuck, I want you on top of me,” He mumbles, flipping you around again so you were positioned on top of him. He grips your hips, grinding you down against him. You feel drunk already, the sensation of his hard-on against your clothed core making you dizzy. He whines again, his fingers digging into the bare skin where your shirt had rode up.

“Come here,” He orders, tugging you down again so that you were face to face once more. You nearly slam into him with how desperately quick he pulls you in to meet his lips. “Take this shit off.” His hands fly to Jake’s sweatshirt, making fast work of ripping it off your body. Barely a second passes before the two of you are pressed together again, working hurriedly against each other..

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” his voice is so barely above a whisper you wonder if the comment was even meant to reach your ears. “Look a lot better when you aren’t in another guy’s clothes.”

His hands are back at your hips, nails digging rough half-moon marks into the exposed flesh. He moves you at a steady pace against him, working your hips in circular motions. You should feel embarrassed by how disgustingly wet you feel, your underwear sticking uncomfortably to your skin. If this was Sam’s genius idea to keep quiet, it definitely wasn't going to be enough to keep you from squirming around. In fact, all it had done was increase your need, your burning desire to feel him closer.

“It isn’t enough,” You whine, a bit louder than you had wanted.

“Not enough? Jesus Christ, I’m about to cum in my pants,” he rasps, bucking his hips underneath you. The sudden movement has you clamoring to silence yourself, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. “Shit, nevermind, you’re right. Fuck, do- do you think you can be quiet?”

You nod quickly, goosebumps prickling up all over your bare torso.

“Lay down.”

You climb off him, lying beside him expectantly. He’s positioned on top of you once more, quickly working down your body. He leaves a sloppy trail all the way down to your navel, where he pauses for a moment before hooking his pinkies into the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” He asks hurriedly.

You nod again, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him better.

“No, I told you. Use your words, or I’ll stop.”

“Yes, please, just take them off, fuck” You choked out.

He tears the rest of your clothes off in one fell swoop, leaving you completely exposed. Any other night, any other person, you might have shied away, turned your head and avoided eye contact. Yet, in this moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You didn’t care that you were seconds away from fucking Sam in his brother’s bed while said brother slept across the hall. You didn’t care that you were definitely going to regret this in the morning. You didn’t care that there was no way you’d be able to keep this a secret from everyone, much less Josh. None of that mattered. All you could think about was the fact that Sam’s mouth was a breath away from where you had needed him the most all night.��

“Just say the world and I’ll stop, okay?”

Again, with genuine sincerity. With care.

“Of course.” You bring your hand down to tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. His skin felt warm, a soft pink radiating off his cheeks.

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, his golden brown eyes boring into your own. He continues at a tantalizing slow place, a smug smirk gracing his kiss-swollen lips. You wait in anticipation, holding a bated breath while you watch him finally settle right in front of your aching clit.

“Gonna make you feel good, just need you to relax,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your core,”Just need you to stay quiet for me, angel.”

Angel. Your heart flutters at the pet name. You were used to all the to all the others; sarcastically calling you princess, calling you a brat, calling you a bitch in your most heated moments. But angel? This was new.

He barely gives you the time to think about it before he’s delving in, his tongue working against you expertly. Your hands fly to his hair, lacing in between the loose waves he had pulled back. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, mentally pleading with yourself to remain silent as he laps at you. If he wanted you to be quiet, this certainly wasn’t the way to go about it. Any and all self-control had flown out the window the second he had kissed you.

Your hips move at odds with his face in a desperate rush, working in tandem with his mouth. His nose bumps against your clit, adding another level of intoxicating pleasure.

He pulls back, the sudden loss of contact making you whine loudly. His face is drenched with a mixture of his spit and your own wetness.

“Can’t wait anymore, need to be inside you.” He pulls his boxers off faster than you’d ever seen anyone move, “I wanted to take my time, but-” He shook his head, cutting himself off.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his body. His cock was leaking, the tip looking painfully red and flushed. You watch in rapt awe as he spits in his palm, pumping the length for a moment before lining himself up with your center. He pushes himself in slowly, a loud groan tearing through the both of you. He’s quick to slap a hand over your mouth, effectively silencing you. You groan as he bites down hard on your shoulder in his own attempt to be quiet. He stalls for a second, allowing you to adjust to his size. The two of you breathe together, sharing the same still moment.

“Gonna move now,” he warns, bracing himself.

He starts slowly, burying himself so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Fuck,” You whine against his palm. You savor the quiet grunts that pass seamlessly through his lips every time he moves, the whimpers that come through when you rake your nails down his back.

“So fucking perfect. Been thinking about this ever since we met. God it was driving me crazy,” he babbled, each word strained against your ear, “You were driving me crazy. Have- Goddamn- have no idea how badly I wanted to put you in your place.”

If his hand wasn’t gripping your face hard enough to leave bruises you were sure you’d be screaming right now. Who gave a fuck if Josh heard you? If Jake knew what was going on?

He maintained his agonizingly slow pace, pushing you right up to where you wanted to be, yet not close enough. You wanted to beg him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to do literally anything else.

As if he knew you needed something more, as if he could read your thoughts, his hand snaked its way in between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He works in quick circular motions, this speed contrasting almost painfully.

“I’m close,” he chokes out, his movements becoming increasingly sloppy. He pulls his hand from your mouth and you gulp in air, panting his name as he brings you closer to the edge, “Where do you want me to-”

“Inside.”

He picks up his pace, the bed squeaking slightly underneath the two of you. You silently thanked God for the fact that the twins were heavy sleepers when the headboard began to dully thud against the wall.

“Sammy, I-” you gasp, finding it difficult to speak.

“I know.” He nods, meeting your eyes. He cups your face and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, the motion so utterly intimate and calm that you felt your heart swell.

You tug him down for another kiss, this one deeper, filled with more passion as he swallows every moan that rips through you. His hips stutter, and he groans into your mouth as he finishes inside you, the sensation pushing you right over the ledge. You could’ve sworn that you saw stars, much like the ones littering the living room ceiling. He falls against you, his breathing ragged and his chest heaving. The two of you lay like that for a beat, your hands softly rubbing the expanse of his now scratched to hell back.

He lifts up, panting still as his eyes rake over your body.

“Think you can sleep now?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs drily, staring down at where the two of you were still connected. You wince as he pulls out, slowly rubbing your thigh in a small act of comfort as he watches your face slightly contort. It’s hard to miss the way he smirks as you feel his cum leak out of you and onto Josh’s previously pristine sheets. He slides off the bed, reaching down and coming back up with his discarded t-shirt. Using gentle motions, he slowly wipes away the mess the two of you made off your skin before tossing the shirt back once again. With a relaxed sigh, he lays back next to you for the final time that night. He tugs you back into his arms, humming as you nuzzle into his chest.

“Hopefully this time you can stay still, huh?”

#sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka x reader smut #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka x fem!reader #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #dry humping sam kiszka #lord save me #i bet he’d be a great kisser

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asacredthebread · 3 months ago

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Cocky Corrections

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Sam x F!Reader - 18+

𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎?

Warnings/Themes: Sub Sam, Begging, Whining, Teasing, Drinking, Slight Public, Cocky behaviour, Handjob

wc; 5794

taglist - @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf

It was one of those late summer evenings, where the air was thick with humid warmth, and the golden light of the setting sun streamed through the open windows of the bar. The small space was buzzing with laughter and the clinking of glasses, creating a comforting ambiance that made you feel right at home. You sat at a round table with Sam, Jake, Josh, and Danny after an exhausting but exhilarating band practice, the remnants of their efforts lingering like a distant echo of a concert yet to come.

Sam, with his long brown hair cascading down his back and his expressive brown eyes sparkling with mischief, sat confidently at the table, an amber pint cradled in his hands. You couldn’t help but admire him from the corner of your eye as he animatedly recounted some trivial band drama from earlier that day. His natural charm had a way of pulling everyone into his stories, and as he spoke, he leaned back in his chair, a sly smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe if we had a little more practice and a little less bickering, we’d actually get song down," Sam joked, shooting a teasing look at Jake, who feigned innocence, rolling his eyes with a smirk. “But who am I kidding? You’d probably drown in the spotlight anyway.”

Danny erupted into laughter, his infectious humor infusing the atmosphere with a lightness that evoked chuckles from everyone around. Josh, the softer-spoken one of the ensemble, sat quietly, a tender smile on his face as he watched the dynamic play out. You felt the warmth of laughter wrapping around you, but there was a different energy pulsing between you and Sam—a tangible undercurrent that suggested a different side to him.

As he continued to boast and banter with his brothers and Danny, he seemed to grow more animated. His laugh was louder, his gestures more exaggerated. You knew that within this confident façade lay a completely different person; one who thrived on your approval and craved your guiding hand. The thought was enough to propel a small smile to your lips, one that Sam occasionally caught when his eyes flicked toward your direction.

“Really, dude, you should just stick to playing bass,” Jake said, shaking his head, a smirk lacing his words. “You know pushing your weight around can’t cover up your lack of rhythm.”

“Oh, come on!” Sam waved a dismissive hand, but there was a glimmer of mock frustration in his eyes. “I’m practically the backbone of this band. Without me, you’d all be lost.”

You caught his gaze, and it held a challenge—an invitation wrapped in bravado. One part of you wanted to encourage that cockiness, to let him bask in the limelight he thrived in, but another part couldn’t resist giving him the knowing look that shifted the power dynamic. It was a brief glance that carried with it the understanding of your complex relationship, unspoken yet resonant. In these moments of confidence, he was the band’s star—a leader, a showman—but in private, he could be so achingly tender, his demeanor a stark contrast that only you truly recognized.

Sam's smile faltered for just a second, as if registering the subtle shift in energy between you both. The façade of bravado smoothed out, giving way to a flicker of something deeper—perhaps vulnerability or yearning. But the spell was soon broken, and he filled the silence with a quick quip meant to catch everyone’s attention again.

“Alright, alright, I guess I’ll take all the credits then. Just know that when we blow up, I’ll expect a bigger share of the profits!” he declared with a laugh, slamming his pint down on the table in a triumph that earned him a chorus of playful groans from the others.

You couldn't help but smile at him. Watching his rapid shifts from cocky bravado to a deeper introspection was always a show you enjoyed. There was something intoxicating about being the one who held that subtle sway over him—a power balance steeped in trust. Balancing the roles he played on stage and off, you relished the parts you understood—how he fed off the energy of the room, yet yearned for more from you in a space only meant for two.

As the night continued, the laughter and teasing filled up the air, creating a warm blanket that wrapped around all of you. But within that vibrancy, you could still sense Sam’s playful arrogance masking the deeper layers of who he truly was—a man yearning for guidance, for connection, and most important, for you.

As the evening rolled on, the lively banter among the band intensified, fueled by drinks and camaraderie. Sam leaned further into the spotlight, transforming into the embodiment of rock star charisma. He tossed his hair back with an exaggerated flourish, his body radiating confidence as he declared, “It’s official: I was born to own that stage! When I step out there, it’s like the world fades away and all that remains is me and the music. Everyone else is just background noise!”

The table erupted into laughter and cheers, a chorus of encouragement that fed into Sam's bravado. He gestured widely, mimicking the movements he might display on a stage—a grand rock star performance at its finest. “You know those moments when I grab the mic and the audience goes wild? That’s all me, baby! I’ll have you guys begging for an encore! I’ve seen it, all the signs, it’s me and my woah’s against the world!”

As he recounted the latest practice where he imagined himself commanding the crowd, you watched him intently, your gaze piercing through the playful banter that surrounded you. There was a glimmer of pride in your chest, mixed with something akin to urgency. Sam was riding high on the waves of confidence, but you knew the others—caught up in their cheers—weren’t fully aware of the path he was navigating with more than just bravado.

As Sam gestured animatedly to make his point, you leaned in slightly, letting the heat of your body brush against his, sending an unspoken warning through the space between you. You shot him a look—sharp yet teasing—a promise that he would be held accountable for this newfound arrogance. There was something about the way his eyes sparkled in that moment, a flicker of realization mixed with challenge, as if he eagerly accepted your silent contract.

Not wanting to let the opportunity slip away, you placed your hand lightly on his thigh, just above his kneecap, allowing your fingertips to graze his jeans as you locked your eyes onto his. The gesture was casual enough for the others to remain oblivious, but you could feel the heat radiating from him as he paused mid-sentence, caught in the tension brewing between you.

His expression shifted slightly at the contact, his cockiness momentarily fading to reveal something more vulnerable, almost blissful. A mix of surprise and thrill danced behind those expressive brown eyes as he fought to maintain his swagger while your hand teased him subtly.

“My sweet boy,” you said quietly, your voice soft but laden with meaning, emphasizing the appropriate mix of intimacy and authority. “You might own the stage, but don’t forget who keeps you grounded here.”

The words hung in the air, and you could practically see him weighing the balance of defiance and submission in that moment. Around the table, Jake was relaying his thoughts on the upcoming setlist, Danny was contributing with his usual flair, and Josh remained a calm presence—oblivious to the inner conversation layered within the hazy air of the bar.

But Sam was no longer hearing his brothers. His focus had shifted; the raucous laughter around you faded into a dull hum as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, just for you. “Do you think you can keep me grounded?” There was a playful challenge hidden beneath his words, a desire to see just how far he could push without losing your grasp.

You smiled at him, your thumb brushing lightly across his thigh, sending shivers through him, and you could sense the mix of cockiness and intrigue swirling within him. It was exhilarating and risky; a push and pull that defined the unspoken relationship that existed between the two of you. The thrill of asserting control over his cocky facade, mingling with the rush of knowing he needed you in a way no one else did.

As Sam attempted to regain his bravado and rejoin the conversation happening around him, you remained poised, your fingers still grazing against his thigh, maintaining a thread that connected you both—a secret tether in the midst of the evening's revelry. And while the others continued to celebrate the evening, a quiet heat built between you and Sam, stretching the tension just a little longer, each glance and touch laced with unspoken promises of what was yet to come.

You could feel the electric tension humming between you, a current that connected you both amidst the noise and laughter of the bar. Sam's cocky persona was beginning to shift, and you relished the power it gave you in the moment, a thrill that coursed through your veins like the alcohol swirling in your glass. You subtly adjusted your position, leaning in closer to him, your breath barely brushing against his ear as you made your move.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you slid your fingers into the waistband of his pants, just enough to feel the warmth of his skin beneath his jeans. You were careful to keep your movements casual, like a playful caress, but you knew what you were doing. The thrill of teasing him sent a delicious shiver through your own body, and you felt the slightest tremor run through him as your fingers grazed over his boxers.

Sam jolted a little, surprise painted across his features as his concentration abruptly shattered. The laughter from Danny and Jake morphed into a distant backdrop, fading as he focused solely on the intimate connection you had initiated. For a brief heartbeat, you reveled in the way he stiffened at your touch, his eyes widening in surprise, but just as quickly as it sparked, it was tempered with a semblance of his previous bravado.

“Oh—damn it!” he exclaimed, his voice rising a notch as he quickly pretended to shift in his seat, a forced chuckle escaping him. “I just hit my knee on the table. You know, these stupid legs—they’re like a weapon of mass destruction!”

He aimed a playful kick at the table, trying to brush off the involuntary reaction, but you could see the suppressed excitement in his eyes, a flicker of desire mixed with embarrassment. The laughter continued around you, but for Sam, the stakes were different now. You had pulled him from center stage, grounding him into reality with just a few daring gestures, and it thrilled you to see how he responded.

His bravado was still there, just reconfigured amid a swirl of confusion and uncertainty. You could tell he was fighting to reclaim his earlier composure, caught between wanting to stay cocky while also grappling with the thrill of your intimate touch. As you held your position, your fingers barely tugging at the waistband, you took joy in the power you had over him.

“Watch where you’re swinging those long legs, Sammy,” you teased, your voice low enough that only he could hear. You felt a grin tugging at your lips, drawing further out the contrast between his exterior and the hidden desires that lay beneath.

Sam's playful smirk returned, albeit with an edge that hinted at his ongoing need to maintain his persona. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m just fine! You know me—always hitting my targets, even when they’re my own knees!” He laughed off the moment, but there was a flicker in his gaze, an unspoken acknowledgment of the boundary you had both crossed.

The others around the table continued chatting away, absorbed in their own discussions, blissfully unaware of the charged atmosphere simmering between you and the man who was simultaneously the life of the party and a person longing for something deeper in the respite that existed outside of the spotlight. Sam’s hand subtly drifted toward your thigh, seeking some connection, but you remained firm in your teasing, relishing in the way he responded to your every move.

The balance hung in the air: he projected an image of playful dominance, but you both knew who truly was in control. And as the laughter faded into anecdotes and the drinks continued to flow, you were determined to keep him guessing—between his roguish charm and the depths of his submission, you held the key to unlocking the secret behind the man who would one day own the stage.

After a few minutes of playful teasing and lingering touches, you decided it was time to break the spell for just a moment. You leaned back slightly, letting your fingers trace away from Sam’s waistband as you rose from your seat. “I’ll be right back,” you said, shooting him a sly smile before gracefully making your way through the throng of people towards the bathroom.

As you navigated the busy bar, laughter and music swirled around you, but your thoughts were filled with the enticing figure you had just left behind. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, and it left you with a thrill that combined anticipation and mischief.

You freshened up quickly, splashing cold water on your face and taking a moment to gather your thoughts. Just as you stepped out of the bathroom, you spotted Sam leaning against the wall down the hall, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the thumping rhythm of the party.

"Hey, I thought you might get lost in there," he teased, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

“I know my way around a bathroom, don’t worry, darling.” You shot back playfully, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. The space between you felt charged, electric with the tension that had been brewing all evening.

“Now, about your behavior back there...” you began, your voice dripping with a mix of authority and affection as you gracefully wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. There was a moment of surprise in his expression, followed quickly by a softening that made your heart race.

“Look at you, all cocky and full of yourself,” you murmured, pressing gentle kisses against the warm skin of his neck. The taste of beer mixed with the faint scent of his cologne intoxicated you further, and you could feel him melt into you, a quiet moan escaping his lips in response.

“Just being charismatic,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, but the teasing lilt in his tone had shifted to something more vulnerable as he leaned into your touch.

You felt a rush of satisfaction at the effect you had on him, and you whispered against his skin, “Oh, really? Charismatic or just a little too full of yourself, princess?”

The term of endearment slipped from your lips effortlessly—playful yet intimate—as your kisses trailed further up his neck, delighting in how he reacted to your touch. Sam's breath hitched slightly, a deeper moan escaping him this time, his body leaning closer, inviting you to draw him in even more.

“Princess?” he echoed, a slight chuckle intermingled with the breathy sound of desire. “That’s a new one…”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, which were now alight with a mix of mischief and yearning. “It suits you. Sweet and a little spoiled,” you teased, feeling emboldened by the way he was surrendering to you in the dimly lit corridor away from prying eyes.

He chuckled softly, but there was a hint of submission in his gaze. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The air between you was thick with anticipation, as you stood there, holding him close and sharing a moment that bypassed the usual bravado. Sam's vulnerability was disarming, and it only fueled your desire to tease him further.

You felt the world around you fade as you held him, the sounds of the bar distant and muffled. In this private moment, it was just the two of you—intimate, charged, and poised on the edge of something deeper. You could feel the shift in Sam as he melted further into your hands, the teasing banter fading away to reveal a side of him that hungered for something deeper. His body instinctively leaned into you, surrendering to the warmth of your embrace, and you could see the façade slip from his features as desire mingled with a vulnerability that was impossible to ignore.

“Please...” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pulse of the music from the bar. The word hung in the air, laced with an urgent need that made your heart race. You could sense the tension coiling tighter within him, and it thrilled you.

“Please what?” you asked coyly, keeping your hold on him steady as you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck, your lips brushing against his skin in a way that felt both playful and intoxicating. In response, you felt him shudder, a soft whimper escaping his lips that tugged at something deep within you.

“I—” he stammered, the confidence he usually wielded melting beneath your touch. “I was only playing, I swear,” he murmured, the words laced with a mix of desperation and a hint of embarrassment. “You know that, right?”

The way he spoke, almost pleading now, sent a thrill coursing through you. You reveled in this new dynamic, the tease evolving into something more profound that sent sparks of excitement racing down your spine.

“Playing?” you echoed, enjoying the tension that lay between sincerity and the playful game you both engaged in. “Then why do you sound so needy, hmm?”

He took a shaky breath, and the way his fingers tightened subtly against your back made your heart race. “I just—can’t take it,” he admitted quietly, the words barely a whisper, yet filled with an urgency that made you smile. “Just... please stop teasing me. It’s driving me crazy.”

His admission was laced with a quiet whimper that resonated within you. There was something exhilarating about having this power over him, watching as he unraveled under your touch. You held him closer, trapping his whispered pleas between your bodies as you leaned in, capturing the moment with the intoxicating warmth of his vulnerable side.

“Aw, poor baby,” you cooed softly, further pressing him into submission with each word, feeling the tension create an electric bond between you. “Can’t handle a little teasing? Is that it?”

He hung his head slightly, the playful bravado disappearing as he chose to simply let you lead. “I can handle it, but,” he sighed, “it’s just…”

“Just what?” you pressed gently, fully aware that you could make him squirm if you pushed just a little harder.

“I want you,” he finally confessed, the admission trembling on his lips as he searched your eyes for understanding. “I want you to stop teasing and just…”

You sensed the weight of his words lingering in the air and felt a rush of satisfaction. Whether he could fully embrace his submission or not, he was visibly caught in the dizzying whirlwind of your control, and you savored every moment of it.

With a sly smile playing on your lips, you tilted your head slightly to gaze into his eyes, your heart racing at the sheer connection you felt. “Tell me you want it, and I might just be willing to give you what you’re begging for,” you teased, knowing full well that Sam was teetering on the edge of surrender.

His answer was a soft, desperate moan, fraught with need, as he looked at you with longing and vulnerability, caught in that perfect moment of intimacy where playful teasing merged with something much deeper.

The atmosphere between you and Sam crackled with unspoken tension and anticipation. You could see the struggle in his eyes as he wrestled with his desire and the last remnants of his bravado. He opened his mouth to say something but faltered, words escaping him as he searched for the right ones.

“Uh... I— I mean, I want you to…” His voice was a soft stutter, the sounds tumbling clumsily from his lips, and with each pause, you could see him trying to regain the confident composure he often wore like armor. But here, with you, he was unraveling, and you loved every moment of it.

“Just take your time, princess,” you said softly, a teasing lilt in your voice, encouraging him even as you enjoyed the power you felt in this vulnerable exchange. It was a dance—one of dominance and submission, and he was all yours.

“I want you to… um, I want you to touch me, but,” he hesitated again, biting his lip in that adorable way that sent shivers down your spine. “Not just like, um, like before,” he managed, and you could see him struggling to articulate his thoughts. “I mean, I want you to really—”

“What do you want me to do?” you asked gently, leaning in a bit closer, your lips brushing against his ear, where you could feel the warmth of his body radiating even through his shirt.

“I want you to make me feel good,” he finally whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of urgency and desire, sealing the admission with a quiet whimper.

Your heart raced at his confession, the heat pooling low in your stomach. You understood what he was yearning for—this blend of teasing, control, and now the promise of something more intimate. It sent excitement shooting through you as you felt his vulnerability envelop you, urging you to explore this new territory together.

“Okay, princess,” you murmured, brushing your fingers against his waist, feeling the way his breath caught in his throat at the slightest touch. Taking the lead, you let your hand find its way down, moving slowly, intentionally, as it slipped under the waistband of his pants. The heat of his skin was intoxicating, and you could feel his muscles tense at your touch.

“Just breathe for me,” you instructed softly, easing your hand further, fingers brushing against him where he was already growing hard. The moment you felt him, he gasped—a sharp intake of breath that sent a thrill coursing through you.

“Oh my god…” he breathed, his words stammering out in a breathless rush as you wrapped your fingers around him, slowly stroking, teasingly gentle at first. “I didn’t— I wasn’t ready for… for that.” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming need, a fragrant cocktail of desire that made you want to push him even further.

“Just relax,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. “Let me take care of you.” You let your movements be deliberate, your fingers gliding along his length in slow, tantalizing strokes. You could feel him respond almost immediately, his body instinctively leaning into your touch as soft moans slipped from his lips, each one igniting something wild within you.

“Y-you’re so—” he stuttered, lost in the sensation as you maintained that exquisite pace. “I can’t believe we’re… here.” His words were punctuated by quiet whimpers, a mix of pleasure and soft pleading that encouraged you to keep going.

“Just focus on how good it feels,” you encouraged, feeling him melt further into your touch. You loved the way he surrendered, the way his body reacted to you so openly, as if you had awakened something inside him that he was desperate to explore.

His gaze was hazy, pupils dilated as they locked onto yours, and you could see the way he struggled to suppress his whines, lips trembling slightly as if trying to hold back a tide of need. “I—I don’t want to hold back anymore,” he admitted, the words spilling from him in a rush as if the dam had finally broken.

“I know, Sam. Just let go for me,” you replied, your fingers picking up the pace ever so slightly, deliberately applying more pressure as you watched his reactions closely. Each flick of your wrist, each stroke of your hand coaxed soft cries from him, pushing him deeper into the whirlpool of desire.

“God, I— I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he stuttered, eyes fluttering shut as he savored the feel of you—so close, so intimate. “It feels so good… you.. oh-”

“Shh, just enjoy it,” you whispered, your voice wrapping around him like velvet as you continued your steady rhythm, feeling the familiar heat and weight of his need pulsing between you. Sam was losing himself in your hands, and with each passing moment, the air crackled with an energy that felt electric, binding you closer in this moment of shared longing.

Though he was still trying to hold onto some semblance of control, you could see it slipping away. The way his hips instinctively bucked into your strokes, the soft, tortured whimpers spilling from his lips—each response was a command to keep going, to take him further into this intoxicating abyss of pleasure together.

And you were more than willing to oblige.

The electric connection between you and Sam thrummed in the air, a palpable tension that surged with every heartbeat. You could see the need building in his eyes as he wrestled with his desire, and the moment felt ripe for the taking.

“Come with me,” you said softly, your voice low and inviting. Without waiting for a response, you took his hand, guiding him through the hall, until you reached the dimly lit bathroom. The sound of muffled music faded as you stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you with a sense of finality.

The small space felt intimate, charged with a sense of secrecy that only heightened the urgency of the moment. You turned to him, locking eyes, and in one fluid motion, backed him up against the cool, tiled wall. Sam gasped at the sudden shift, his breath hitching as the reality of where you were sank in.

“Now, let’s see how needy you are,” you murmured, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you pressed your body against his. Instinctively, he tilted his head back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as surrender washed over him. You could feel his warmth radiating through your clothes, his body responding to your proximity and the thrill of the moment.

With a gentle yet firm grip, you resumed stroking him, your hand moving with a deliberate slowness that made him squirm. “Oh god, please…” he whimpered, the desperation in his voice sending a rush of exhilaration through you. You loved that he was so utterly receptive, his body betraying him as he bucked his hips into your hand, seeking more of the pleasure you were giving him.

“You like this, don’t you?” you teased, leaning in closer. Your lips found their way to the sensitive skin of his neck, planting soft kisses that made him tremble. “You’re so responsive, Sammy… I can feel how much you want it.”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, his voice a breathy whisper, barely holding onto the thread of restraint as he melted further into you with each kiss. You could feel the tension coiling in him, the sweet anticipation of release that threatened to spill over. His breath was ragged, each exhale mingled with soft whimpers as he continued to grind against your hand, pleading for more.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered against his skin, teasingly breathy, feeling his pulse race beneath your lips. He moaned softly, tilting his head to give you better access, the action allowing you to kiss more fervently along his collarbone and up to his jawline.

“Please don’t stop,” he managed to say, voice trembling with intensity. “I need this… I need you.”

The way he pleaded with you, unguarded and vulnerable, made your heart race. Encouraged by his eagerness, you sped up your movements, letting your fingers slide along him in a way that was both teasing and demanding. He gasped, pushing his hips forward even more, your shared urgency resonating in the small bathroom.

“Just let it all go,” you murmured in encouragement, planting another kiss along his neck, feeling the way his body started to tense and release under your touch. The vulnerability in his eyes mixed with need made your own pulse quicken, and you were perfectly aware of the clandestine thrill of what you were doing.

As his body arched against you, you felt the intoxicating rush of power mixed with a heady desire. You kept kissing him, each touch driving him closer to the edge while you held onto him firmly, urging him to succumb completely. Sam was lost in the moment, fully engulfed in the pleasure you were igniting within him, and you reveled in the connection you shared.

In this secluded refuge, nothing else mattered but the two of you, the world outside falling away as you focused solely on his need. Each kiss, each stroke of your hand brought you both closer to that precipice, and the thrill of it all was intoxicating.

“Please,” he whimpered softly, a delightful tremor echoing through his words. “Don’t stop. I can’t hold back much longer…”

And with that, you pushed him further into that abyss, teasing, taunting, and fully embracing the passionate moment that consumed you both in its feverish grasp. As the kiss trailed off and your touch intensified, you could feel the tension building in Sam, his need palpable and intoxicating. Suddenly, with a soft, almost fragile movement, he leaned his head against your shoulder, surrendering to the moment entirely. The weight of him felt reassuring, and you reveled in the closeness, as though the two of you had built a world of your own inside the stall.

“Oh, Sam,” you murmured, brushing your fingers through his hair as you continued to stroke him with a steady rhythm. It felt like everything was crescendoing around you both; the muffled sounds of the bar and distant laughter faded, leaving just the two of you caught in a dizzying haze of heat and desire.

Sam’s body reacted to you with an urgency that made your heart race. The way he nestled into you, his breath hitching against your skin, sent waves of warmth flooding through your body. “You feel so good,” he whispered, voice shaky and breathless, completely lost in the moment.

“I could say the same about you,” you replied teasingly, feeling him press his body against yours, urging you to continue. With each stroke of your hand, his soft whimpers grew louder, filling the small space as evidence of his pleasure.

“Please…” he whimpered, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy, his mind clearly clouded with sensation. The tension in his body coiled tighter as if he were a spring ready to snap. You could tell he was close, and a part of you thrived on that knowledge, reveling in the fact that you were the one bringing him this pleasure.

“Just let go, Sam,” you encouraged softly, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, the intimacy of it sending shivers down his spine. “You’re so close. Just— let it happen.”

His inhale was sharp, a desperate gasp as his body began to tremble involuntarily. With one final, deliberate stroke, he finally came undone in your hands, a deep, breathless moan escaping his lips as he released. The sound was utterly intoxicating; it resonated within you, serving as a powerful reminder of the connection you two shared.

“Ahhh… God,” he gasped, head falling back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut in a mix of bliss and disbelief. You felt him shudder against you, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as he tried to catch his breath, body still twitching from the aftershocks of his release.

“That’s it, baby,” you cooed softly, your own excitement barely restrained as you continued to hold him, your fingers gently tracing comforting patterns along his skin. “You did so well for me.”

For a moment, the two of you simply lingered in that post-orgasmic haze, the world outside the bathroom stall forgotten. But as the intensity of the moment began to fade, a serious thought crept into your mind, and you gently pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, wanting to ensure the lesson was conveyed.

“Sam,” you began, your tone soft but firm. “You need to remember something. You only ever get what you want when you behave.” His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see a hint of vulnerability mixed with confusion as he processed your words.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice still breathless, an innocent lilt that made your heart ache.

“I mean,” you said, leaning closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “you can’t act like you did with the rest of the band in front of me again. You know how I feel about that.” There was a weight in your words, a warning laced with a sense of authority that he needed to grasp.

He looked down, guilt flickering across his features, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. “I… I didn’t mean to. It just happened,” he said hesitantly.

“I know it did,” you replied gently, brushing your thumb along his cheek to bring his gaze back to yours. “But if it happens again, I won’t be as kind next time. I might just have to teach you a different lesson, you understand?”

There was a moment of tension, electric and charged, as you watched his expression shift. Understanding bloomed in his eyes, a realization of the boundaries you were emphasizing. He nodded slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, though you could tell he was still processing your words.

“Okay… I get it,” he finally replied, his voice quieter now, softer. “I promise to do better.”

“Good boy,” you replied, satisfaction blooming within you as he leaned back against you, resting his head on your shoulder once more. The combined rush of pleasure and the promise of a new understanding settled between you like a comfortable blanket, warm and enveloping.

“For now, just hold onto that promise,” you said, letting your fingers play lightly in his hair. “And maybe next time, I’ll show you just how kind I can really be.”

With a lingering look shared between you, the two of you reveled in the weight of the moment, a mix of passion and newfound respect lying beautifully beneath the surface, ready to be explored anew.

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