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samfkiszka · 1 month

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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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