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traffic-was-a-b1tch · 15 days

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anthem of the heart

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.

warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)

warnings for this chapter: SMUT, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT UP), fingering, slight dom!jake, sir kink, praise kink, punishment kink (if you squint), kissing, cursing, let me know if I missed any!

author’s note: heyyyy! sorry for the long wait! thank you again for the likes and love for this series! let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! as always, please feel free to give me feedback, requests, comments, etc. enjoy!!!

• • •

Chapter Eight:

you were so distracted from your celebration that you didn’t realize that jake wasn’t in bed anymore. you looked around the bedroom and didn’t see any sign of him besides his black shirt on the floor from last night.

damn. that was all coming back to you. you could still feel him all over you; his hands, his mouth, his…

get ahold of yourself.

you don’t have time for that this morning. your interview was in only 3 hours and you couldn’t risk being any kind of late.

you got up, still naked, and left the bedroom. following down the hall, you started to hear something. it sounded like a acoustic guitar, just a little muffled. you came into the living room, still no sign of jake. but the guitar was getting louder, like you were getting closer. you continued walking towards the music, and found yourself at the recording room.

the door was cracked open a bit so you heard the guitar clearly now. you could also catch a glimpse of him through the window, sitting on a stool and strumming it shirtless. he looked so beautiful.

the rhythm was familiar but you thought it was just something he wrote. that was until you heard him start to sing.

“now I don’t hardly know her,”

a beat.

“but I think I could love her,”

a beat.

“crimson and clover.”

his voice was like a husky honey; sweet and raspy. you recognized that the song was crimson and clover by tommy james and the shondells. it was a favorite classic of your mom’s. you swayed to it, never letting your eyes leave him.

he vocalized, eyes closed. you smiled at the sight of him. he was so enthralled in the music that it enchanted you. he slowly opened his eyes, finding you in the doorway. he stopped and an embarrassed smile creeped on his face.

you came into the room, closing the door behind you, clapping.

“creeper”, he teased, grabbing your hips and pulling you to him.

“come on, I like it when you play.”

he raised his eyebrows, “you used to not…”

you scoffed, “shut up.” then you added, sing-songy, “I have good news.”

“what?” his voice was still a bit tired.

“I got an interview at my dream job.” you were still giddy even talking about it.

he made a shocked face and got excited. “yes! you’ll finally be out of my hair during the day now.”

you pushed him and tried to back away, but he kept his grip on your hips as he laughed.

“let’s both hope I get this job because if I don’t and I have to deal with your bullshit for all 24 hours, I might murder you.”

he cocked his head to the side and smirked.

“but as of right now, I need to shower and get ready”, you removed his hands on your hips and turned to leave.

“mmm, no. you look fine as is”, he fought, grabbing your hand and not letting you leave.

you looked back at him, eyebrow raised, “i’m naked, jake.”

“and? no amount of clothes can replace this look right now”, he made a camera with his hands and pretended to take pictures of you.

“don’t try to flatter me in hopes of morning sex because I really don’t have time right now”, you rolled your eyes, giggling, and tried to leave again.

he stopped you again, “i’m not trying to get any, believe me. if I wanted you right now, i’d have you right now. but maybe I just like you being here.”

your eyes lingered on each other for a bit longer than what was comfortable.

he looked you up and down, taking in all of your curves, “but now that you’ve got me thinking about it…”

“jake, no. i’ll be late”, you reasoned lightheartedly.

“how much time do you have?”

you sighed, “3 hours.”

he reached up to grab your jaw, guiding you down to his level, “I only need 20 minutes.”

he kissed you softly and you deepened it. as soon as he’d kissed you, a fire lit inside you and you needed him. now.

he softly moved the guitar that was resting on his lap to the ground and urged you on his lap. you kissed hard and messily, too caught up in desire to care.

he trailed his hands all over your body, feeling your soft skin against his guitar calloused fingers. he broke from your kisses, eyes boring into you.

“don’t break eye contact. if you do, I stop. got it?”

you nodded.

his fingers found their way in between your legs before two of them lined up with your opening. he pressed them inside you slowly , causing you to moan loudly and throw your head back.

his fingers immediately withdrew. he smacked your pussy in punishment, bringing your eyes back to him.

“eyes on me.”

you nodded again, eyes wide.

“nuh uh, words.”

“yes, sir.”

his eyes darkened and he sucked in a breath. you clearly unlocked something, something he was holding back.

his fingers entered in you again, faster this time. you gasped but kept your eyes locked on his. he started moving them in and out of you slowly, slightly curling them into your spot. you moaned loudly, the feeling taking over your entire body, but fought to keep your eyes on his.

he noticed your effort and rewarded you with a, “good girl.”

he started to go faster, and you were trying your hardest not to lose it. he was right, he would only need a few minutes. you were getting closer, eyes threatening to flutter closed. you were right there, his fingers curling into you hard. you were about to…

he pulled his fingers out of you.

you sighed in frustration, “jake, what the fuck?”

he smirked in satisfaction, “seems like you forgot i’m an asshole.”

you made an upset pout face. he laughed at you, tugging down his black sweatpants and releasing himself.

you couldn’t not stare. he looked so delicious. your eyes, still tinted with anger, flicked up to his.

“come on, baby”, he cooed, “i’ll make it up to you. ride me.”

you reached down to grab him and he gasped softly. he was so hard. fuck, you needed him bad.

you lined him up to your entrance, and slowly sunk down on him.

you both moaned loudly, and you were grateful that you were in a soundproof studio.

at first, jake’s hands moved to your hips and guided you up and down. once you had a rhythm he let go, “fuck, show me how much you want it.”

you were speechless. his mouth made an ‘o’ shape as you grinded on him, head falling back in ecstasy. you put your hands on his shoulders for leverage and rode him faster.

his dick was perfect, hitting all the right spots in you. his head came back up, and he saw that your boobs were bouncing as you rode him. he grabbed them both, massaging them and moaning. he took one of your nipples in his mouth and twirled his tongue around the sensitive bud.

you could barely breathe, lost in the pleasure. he moaned especially loud against your chest when you tightened around him, trying to reach your peak.

he met your eyes again, and damn did you love the view. his own eyes were laced with lust and his expression was devilish to say the least.

“fucking come for me”, he panted.

you did, throwing your head back and gasping. you were shaking from how intense it was, and that only made jake get closer.

he snatched your hips quickly and fucked you harder. he grunted as he finally came inside you, his head falling to your shoulder.

the only sound in the room was you both panting. after a moment, you nudged his face up to look at you and kissed him softly on his lips.

he smiled and glanced at the clock on the front wall of the studio, “15 minutes. see, i’m great at quickies.”

you laughed, “good to know.” then a question creeped into your mind, one you wanted to ask when you first came in this room.

“do you ever sing in your band’s songs?”

“no, why?”

you shrugged, “I heard you singing and I think you have a great voice. you don’t even sing backup vocals?”

he shook his head, “nope. I leave all that up to josh so I can focus on melting everyone’s faces off with my guitar.”

you smiled, “is that so?”

he nodded.

after a minute of comfortable small talk, you finally lifted off of him and made your way to his bathroom. you cleaned up with a washcloth and then went back and cleaned him too.

you walked back to the bedroom to collect your clothes, grabbing your pants and shirt off the floor. you pulled them on, it was just enough to walk to your apartment. the walk of shame.

you put your phone in your pants pocket and took in your appearance from the mirror on his wall. you had a certain look about you, it reminded you of how jake looked all the time; a look that oozed desire. he was rubbing off on you, you thought. just then, he walked in and stood behind you, brushing your shoulders as he looked at you in the mirror.

“gorgeous”, he whispered in your ear.

you scoffed, shaking your head, “jake, I have to go now.”

he backed away and grumbled, “fine.”

he followed you to the front door and mentioned, “I put my number in your phone last night. text me after the interview and let me know how it went.”

you grinned at him and opened the door, “you put your number in my phone while I was asleep? wow, what a weirdo.”

he mocked a laugh as you made your way into the hallway, “ha ha ha. I better get a text.”

you smirked, reaching for the door handle and whispering, “yes, sir”, before closing the door on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you raced into the shower and started to wash your hair.

midway through, the door to the bathroom opened and kaylee poked her head inside the shower, “rough night, huh?”

you giggled and lathered your body, “shut up.”

“how was heeee? as your best friend, you have to tell me. it’s the law.”

“he”, you began, “was… I mean… he felt… I don’t…”

kaylees mouth opened in shock, “he left you speechless?!”

you laughed and nodded.

“lucky fucking duck”, she shook her head. “hey, but I was right. you needed that dick, girl.” she put her hands up, “i’m always right.”

“kaylee”, you laughed, “I got an interview at CMA.”

she jumped, looking at you in excitement, “oh my god!!! today?” you nodded.

she shook her hands excitedly, “oh, i’m so happy for you!!! hurry up and go!!”

she left you to finish and you tried to hurry.

after the shower, you got dressed and put on a little bit of makeup. you were ready to go just in time, with 30 minutes to spare for the drive over.

you told kaylee bye as you were walking out.

“show them how much of a bad bitch you are!”, she yelled out at you.

as you drove to CMA’s office building, you thought about this last week. the rollercoaster it had been, with plenty of ups and downs. but even still, you were still standing. standing tall, too. and as much as kaylee, and jake now too, helped you, you got this success through your own hard work. you really were proud of yourself for making it this far.

you pulled up to the building, parked, and got out of your car to take in the massive feat of architecture with dozens of floors.

it was intimidating. but you knew that this was what you wanted.

you were gonna go for what you wanted; what you knew you could get; what you knew you deserved.

walking inside was relieving, bits of color were spread all around the room. artwork adorned almost every wall and the company’s logo shone on the back wall above the receptionist.

you walked up to him, smiling, “hello. i’m here for my interview.”

he looked up and smiled too, “oh, yes of course. they’re ready for you now. follow me.”

he got up and led you down a large hallway with stained glass windows. they allowed colored light to enter the space and flood it with a heavenly feeling.

you were already in love with this place.

you approached a large office on the end of the hall. the receptionist opened the door for you and you thanked him.

a woman sat at the large wooden desk in the room, but when you entered she stood and held out her hand to shake.

“hello! my name is barbara and i’ll be conducting your interview today.”

you smiled and shook her hand.

she looked down at the frilly sleeves on your shoulders and added, “I love your outfit.”

you thanked her, feeling light as air. you had chosen a baby blue blouse, a white skirt, and little white heels for your attire. you were definitely not regretting it now.

you sat across from her and, while she relaxed back in her chair, you said a small prayer of luck. your nerves were still on high alert.

“so”, barbara began, “how do you feel today?”

you were a little taken aback. that wasn’t exactly a common question an interviewer would ask. it was sweet. like she really cared about me before we had even really met.

you chuckled, “um, I feel great. i’ve been excited ever since I got the call this morning that y’all wanted to interview me.”

she smiled, “i’m very happy to hear that.”

she continued the interview, asking about your strengths and what you would do with this job.

“ok”, she clicked her pen, “final question.”

you sat up a little straighter, preparing yourself.

“why do you want to work here? what about CMA attracts you?”

you took a breath and made eye contact with her.

“CMA speaks to my soul. the creative freedom and power you give to your clients and employees is outstanding. I love the passion that is incorporated into every project that y’all do. I love that this company is just bursting with life and love. I want to be a part of that love.”

she watched you for a moment, earnestly.

“then, I think we’re done here”, she stood and reached out her hand again.

you took it, a little scared that your answer was too passionate because of the unreadable look on her face.

you took your purse and turned to leave.

“one more question before you go”, she added.

you looked back at her, “yes?”

“when can you start?”

• • •

nothing but happiness in this chapter? yes please!!!

tag list: @gvfpal @hollyco @piratejakesgf @sunandthemoontwinflames @kiszkas-canvas @jjwasneverhere @anythingforjtk

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #daniel wagner #danny wagner #danny gvf #gvf fic #gvf smut

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jakesflora · 7 months

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Forgive Me.

Jake Kiszka Priest AU

word count: 2.1k

you have a confession.

warnings: smut, sacrilegious.

You never missed a Sunday, being a catholic was all you knew, since you were a child and your parents dragged you and your brothers to church bright and early every sunday. You had heard news among the grapevine that there was a new priest coming, to take over for Father James, as he was getting older and needed to retire. You were dressed in your finest attire, to meet the new priest, dressed in a pretty black skirt, with a white sweater to cover up as much skin as possible. Your heels click on the stairs as you walk up to the doors of the church, the older ladies greeting you as you walk in. Father James, was standing at the end of the pews, greeting you with a smile, “Very nice to see your face this morning, Y/N” you sent him a warm and welcoming smile, he had always been nice to you. Everyone had been speculating why exactly he was leaving, some people said it was because he needed to retire, others said he committed blasphemy and he's no longer able to be a preacher. Rumor has it, the new father is much younger, and less experienced, but he was in fact a very holy man according to most. You took your seat at your normal spot, three rows back, towards the middle of the aisle. The ushers at the back, shut the doors as you heard the familiar bell start to ring, signaling that the service is starting. Father James walked in from the back of the church, followed by a young man, his hair was a medium shade of brown, and his eyebrows were slightly furrowed as his brown eyes scoped out the many pews filled with people. Father James, cleared his throat and spoke into the mic, “This brings me pure sadness to say, but this will be my last sermon with you all. It's been lovely to get to know you all, this will be your new father,” the man raised his hand from beside him, sending all of us a wave. “His name is Jake, but you may call him Father Jake, he will be around after the sermon, to ask questions and hold confessionals if you would need one, may god be with you all.” and with that he started his normal trek on about god, and his disciples.

After he finishes speaking, he bids you all goodbye, telling you all once again that the new Father Jake would be available in the confessional room if needed. A ping of guilt flashed into your eyes knowing good and well there were things you never felt quite comfortable telling Father James given he was so much older and wiser than you. After mostly everyone had cleared out from the pews and were now just standing outside talking amongst each other, you trotted your way down the narrow hallway towards the back of the church. Hidden in the back corner was the confession room, where most women had spent most of their time with Father James telling him about the urges they had to do something most people would say is unholy, and by most people meaning the catholic church. You gently placed a knock on the door, the knocks echoing in the hallway as you did so. “You may come in,” you heard from the other side of the door, doing as the man said, you turned the knob and opened the door. Once inside there he sat, the man you have come to know as Father Jake. He cleared his throat and spoke up, “How may I help you today?” as you walked your way over to the chair in front of his desk, you felt as if his eyes were burning holes into your body, into your flesh, and you weren't sure exactly how to feel about it. In fact, maybe it was all just in your head. You sat down in the chair across from him, crossing your legs like a proper lady. “I’ve come to confess some…urges, if you will.” the nerves were evident in your voice, but in a way you did not feel ashamed, he seemed young enough to understand how it is to be a person your age and feel the things you feel, as he couldn’t be over thirty years old.

“Ah yes, what would those urges be…? What's your name? I did not catch it.” he spoke, sorting out papers clattered about the wooden desk top table. “My names y/n” you said, a small smile upon your face. “Lovely to meet you father.” he looked up from his papers, once again looking at you like something was severely wrong with you, so you just continued to speak. “The urges father, they get so hard to fight sometimes, I've always wondered how it felt, the feeling must be good enough for so many people to stray away from their beliefs because of it.” he was listening to you quite intently, playing with the cross rosary that was once clad to his chest, now gripped in his hands, his brow furrowed. “The feeling of what y/n? What is this feeling that you are so ashamed of?” You shifted in your seat, almost in a way kind of scared to tell him what it is that you’re truly feeling. “Well Um..,” you were fiddling with the ruffles of your skirt, trying not to make eye contact as the thought of saying these words to someone, a holy man like him, seems so wrong. “I wonder what being touched by another feels like, and I know it's against the rules, and in no way am I rebelling but there's something that's so interesting about it.” with the last bit of that sentence you grew the urge to finally look up at him, to meet his brown eyes. His eyes were dark, and it was almost scary, he looked almost.. evil? You didn’t quite know the word for it. “So you think, that the touch of another is enough to break your vows to the church, your vows to the lord?” He now stood up, the vestment he was wearing now straightening up around his waist, and the rosary now falling back to its original place. He was now towering over you, his hand coming up to hold your chin in his hands, “Is that what you’re telling me, sweet y/n?” Your mouth had slightly parted, any spit that was in your mouth has now dried up, swallowing hard to the best of your abilities. “I…I’m sorry father I just.” With a jerk of your chin he cut you off. “Say no more, I've heard enough. It's time to confess your sins before the lord.” He pulls you up out of the chair, with one pull of your arm. Standing beside him now, you realized how much larger he was than you, how much stronger he was. He pointed to the back of the room, where there was a large painting of Jesus on the wall. “Go to him, get on your knees before him, and beg for forgiveness for even thinking such a thing.” He dropped your chin, your legs shaking as you walked over to the painting and did exactly as he told you to do, now rested upon your knees in front of the painting. You heard his feet behind you, and the door lock click as he made his way over to you meaning he in fact locked the two of you in here. There was a feeling in between your thighs that you had never quite felt before, why is it happening now? What even is it? You heard the scraping of a chair on the wooden floor, his chair now beside you as he sat down in it. He grabbed your hair roughly, pulling your head back to look at him. “Do you feel forgiven my dear? I think I know another way you could be forgiven.” The rasp in his voice is much more evident now than it was earlier. “Let me show you.” He grabbed your hand, placing it on his crotch, rubbing it slowly as he let out a low groan. “What are you doing Father? This isn't right.” he refused to let your hand go, still making you rub his now growing cock. “Isn't it though sweetheart? Let me show you how it feels to be touched, while the lord is watching us.” the feeling between your thighs grew tenfold, immediately complying to what he was saying and doing. He lifted up his vestment, taking off the pants he was wearing underneath it. Exposing the cock that was now hard at the thought of taking your innocence and ruining it.

Turns out Jake wasn’t a holy man at all, now was he? “Now let's take off that pretty little skirt of yours that I've been looking at all day.” He lifted you up off your knees, ripping off the skirt that was once what was hiding the wetness of your panties from him and the rest of the world. “That's what i'm talking about, look how pretty you are angel,You're an angel sent from the lord himself.” all you could do was whine, no words came to mind minus the thought of him touching you. He pulled your panties to the side and ran his finger up and down the slit of your pussy, playing in the pile of wetness that has gathered upon your clit. He smirked, knowing good and well that all of this was for him, he lifted his fingers up to his mouth with your wetness still coating them, popping them in his mouth. “Oh angel, you taste so good. I just want another taste.” that did not stop you from grinding your hips on his still hardening cock noticing that the friction felt really good. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you safely in the air as he walked you over to his desk, where he laid you down before getting on his knees himself. He pulled you right to the edge, so that his mouth was now level to your cunt, as he began to lick gently at the sensitive nub between your folds, now not being able to keep the moans of his holy name from slipping your mouth. He gripped your thighs so rough that there was going to absolutely be bruises as he completely devoured your dripping cunt. Your hands now tangled in the brown hair that you had watched walk in earlier, legs wrapping around his head not wanting this to ever end. He smirked into your wetness like a cocky son of a bitch before adding two fingers into the mix now working them in and out of you with a quick motion. Your back begins to arch off the desk at all the feelings he was making you feel. You felt a low burning sensation in the bottom of your stomach, “Father I--” was all you were able to say before he completely stopped. “Not yet, I want you to cum on my cock, I want you to bless me with your cum little dove”

You looked down at him, now watching him stand up and pump his cock a couple of times, pushing the hair out of his face as it was stuck to his forehead with a mix of your wetness and sweat. “Now, this might hurt angel, but I promise it will feel great in the end.” That was the only warning he gave you before he slammed his cock into your little innocent pussy that's never taken cock before in its life, much less a man the size of him. He let out moans of your name as he slid his cock in and out of you, all you could do was whimper as he ruined you, taking the one thing that you were told to keep as long as you could, away from you, but god almighty did it feel good. Your nails dug into his back, leaving scratch marks as the rosary around his neck dangled in your face. His hand reaching up and grasping hard at your neck as he squeezed as hard as possible. “Dirty little slut, how dare you do this? You’re ruined.” he spat, smacking at your cheek as gently as possible. You felt the feeling once again building in your lower stomach, “Father I-- I.” you could hardly get out words. “Bless me angel, give it to me” was all he had to say before you were writhing in pleasure around his cock. Which was enough to send him over the edge as well, filling up your now fucked out pussy with his cum as he slowly slowed down his pace before pulling out of you completely. He placed a kiss on your forehead, “Consider yourself forgiven, in my eyes.”

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playingdxngerous · 9 months

Text

fresh start

18+ minors dni

Warnings: cheating*, eventual smut, swearing, SLOW BURN, p in v, slight angst, arguing, Jake is very cocky, jealousy, pet names, oral f! and m! receiving, fingering f! receiving, masturbation, fluff at the end

Word Count: 4151

* I do not condone cheating, and I think it is an awful thing to experience or do to someone. Please do not cheat on people. This is just a fanfic :)

also i did not proof read absolutely any of this so if you see a mistake then ummm no you dont!

Your two month anniversary is today, or was today, in this case. Just when you thought things were getting better in your new relationship, it all started going downhill. Never in your life did you think you'd get broken up with on your anniversary. So much time wasted. It's for the stupidest reason too. Your (now ex) boyfriend James claimed over a phone call that he has been slowly losing feelings for a week or two and needs time away. Everyone knows what that means. There's another girl. Someone better, prettier.

"Fuck you!" You yell over the phone in your parked car. "You'll never be as happy as you were with me and you fucking know that, James. You know that." You hang up the phone before he can respond, tears streaming down your face. You look down at the outfit you had put on before driving over to his house. A red satin dress with lingerie underneath. You'd been planning the night out together for a few days now. He was going to take you to a movie, out to eat, and eventually back to his house before the two of you exchange gifts. he never even got to see you in your new dress. The asshole broke it off with you just before you reached his neighborhood.

You turn on music to distract yourself, yet nothing works. Guess I'll just get fucking blackout drunk tonight, you think to yourself. You quickly back out of the random parking lot you were settled in and speed to the nearest bar.

Pulling into a parking space you wipe off your tears and reapply mascara. You put on red lipstick and step out of the car, no cares for what happens to you tonight.

The bar is familiar, since this is where Jake used to take you. Jake. As if your day weren't bad enough, memories of your old relationship flutter through your head. Playing guitar, hooking up backstage, secret dinner dates where you both tried to avoid fans seeing you together. You were in love, more than you could ever be. More than you thought he would ever be. You were clearly wrong, as one day touring apparently "became too much" on him and was the reason for the breakup. About a month later the tour ended, and he found a new girl named Elena. This is when you decided to force yourself to move on and meet James. Your savior, you thought. He strongly resembled Jake. Maybe that's why you fell so hard for him too. Long hair, raspy voice, played guitar. Even his name is close to Jake's. A complete carbon copy of him. Enough with the exes, you think as you open the door to the bar with a deep breath. Tonight you can forget both of them even existed.

You walk to the barista and order a drink, asking for anything strong. She's middle aged, tattoos lining her arms and neck. She has that rare beauty to her, the beauty you'd find with a trashy addict husband. The beauty you'd find riding a motorcycle late at night. She brings you a surprise drink, winking at you before saying this will definitely get you some guys on your finger tonight. Little does she know that you secretly wish you never met any guy in your life anymore. You down the drink in one sip, the taste burning your throat. Just as you begin to ask for another shot of something, a spine-chilling voice interrupts you.

"Hey pretty lady," Jake Kiszka directs to the barista. "I'd like whatever this girl just got," he says pointing his thumb to you.

"Just one? Don't want to offer her one?" She smiles at you.

"No thank you." You quickly respond to her. "I should probably get going."

"I've got a date over here somewhere; I can't be buying random girls drinks. Don't know where the hell mine is though." Jake says. "Don't know if I give a shit either..." He mumbles under his breath.

"Be respectful for once you prick." You say directly to him, not expecting it to actually come out of your mouth.

"Oh yeah?" He downs the shot with no face. "What will you do about it? Start making out with someone who looks just like me? I've seen him before y'know. You could've gone for someone slightly different than me. Guess you were just so crazy for me you couldn't stand a simple break while I was on tour." He shrugs his shoulders. Anger rises in your stomach as he lies straight to your face. The worst part is that he's not even drunk. You've seen him tipsy, and you know for a fact he is complete sober right now. These are sober words hitting you directly in the heart. Being broken up with was enough, but this just makes it way worse. It takes everything in you to not punch his cheek and leave a mark for his precious little Elena to kiss.

"Go back to your fucking girlfriend." You grunt through your teeth. Your hands unclench to reveal little marks from your red painted fingernails. "And it wasn't a break. Don't ever say that again. You broke up with me to fuck her a month later. You lost feelings, not me. I would've stayed. I did stay. I stayed until your player ass found her. I hope she's happy with you."

"She is." He says and walks away into the crowd. You see Elena grab him around the neck with a confused face. He shakes his head and smiles, leaning in for a kiss. He widens his eyes as they practically make out, staring right at you.

"You wanna dance?" A random guy grabs your hand and scoots up to you. You turn to Jake, who is still intently staring. However, his face now portrays anger and jealousy rather than pettiness.

"Sure, why not?" You smile widely and wink in Jake's direction. A song you've never heard plays out of the large speakers spread across the room and you struggle to stay up to tempo with your new date. You wait impatiently for the song to end, excusing yourself when it finally does.

You walk around aimlessly, trying to find the bathroom. As you take a turn down a hallway to find it, Jake is leaned against the wall as if he were waiting for you.

"Can you leave me alone for five minutes and just let me breathe?" You almost yell.

"I don't think James would like to know you're out here drunk and dancing with random men. Dressed like a slut and all."

"I don't care what he thinks anymore."

"Oh, so I should text him on Instagram and tell him?"

"I don't think Elena would like you sneaking off to talk to your ex by the bathroom either." You say, putting extra emphasis on her name.

"I'm sure she's doing the same. The bitch just let some dude buy her a drink. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already in his car by now. Wouldn't be the first time. I haven't even seen her since you saw me kiss her."

"And you don't care at all?" You ask, genuinely confused. If James ever did that to you would lose your mind.

"You think I care about her? She's with me for the sex. I'm a fucking rockstar, what do you expect. You really think I love her like I did you?"

"Jake why would you bring that up?" You say almost sadly.

"You never answered my question so why should I answer yours." He claims.

"Okay fine, what was the stupid question."

"Does your copy and paste boyfriend not give a shit that you're out here with other men?" His eyebrows raise.

"He broke up with me."

"What?"

"He fucking broke up with me! Is that what you so desperately want to hear?"

"Why did he- Why would he..." He trails off in confusion.

"Why don't you ask yourself that Jake. Seems like you two have something in common." Tears start to pool in your eyes, so you turn your heel to start walking away. Jake's warm hand grabs your hip, pulling you in to a hug. You can't help but stay there for a second. Thankfully, reality begins to kick back in and you push him away.

"Go find Elena. Take her home. Give her a fucking night to enjoy because God knows I won't enjoy the rest of tonight. Give her everything you ever wanted to give me, everything you did give me. Give her your love. And don't ever hug me again unless you mean it. I'm tired of people holding me in and breaking my goddamn heart." You utter.

"Am I not making it oblivious enough?" He laughs.

"Jake what are you on about now?"

"I don't want her sweetheart." He moves closer to you, making you tilt your head to now keep eye contact. Your heart sinks at the pet name.

"You don't mean it." You whisper.

"Do I need to prove it to you that I mean it?" He smirks.

"I'm not going to let you cheat on her." You croak. He turns you around to face the crowded room behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips once more. You scan the room and immediately find Elena on the lap of some guy at the bar, kissing him harder than she was with Jake moments ago.

"Oh my god Jake I'm so sorry she's doing that to you." You feel genuinely bad for him, as you know it must be hard to witness that.

"Like I said darling, not the first time. So, are we going to get going or what?" Your head and heart pull to opposite sides of your answer. As much as you want to say no, it's so hard to decline an offer like this. You and James' relationship is already in shred, and you've almost completely forgotten about it because of Jake. It's so easy to just say 'yes'...

"Jake we can't. It's not right." You finally respond. Slight regret fills your head.

"What about it isn't right? Neither of us are in a loving relationship at the moment. Mine is falling apart hour by hour and you don't even have one at all. I think you're just scared you'll enjoy it too much. You miss me too badly. You miss the way I feel in your pretty pussy. The way I taste. The sounds of our moans together." His voice gets quieter as his sentences go on, stepping closer and closer until your chests are touching.

"Fuck me, Jake." You whisper.

"Is that a yes? You know I won't ever force you." He pulls away a little, making the wind blow cold between you.

You scoot back to him and grabs his neck. "Yes Jake. I want you so badly." He smiles and kisses you slowly. The shape of his lips brings back memories of your relationship. The same lips you'd kiss for hours at a time, so often. He must sense it too, as each second he kisses hungrier and faster. The capricious night runs through your thoughts. How over an hour ago you were crying on the phone with James, and now you are making out with your ex as his girlfriend finds someone else to toy with right behind you, no care in the world.

He slides his tongue against your bottom lip, starving to taste you. The sweetness of his spit mixes with yours and you try to forget that Elena had just tasted the same thing recently. He seems to notice your overthinking tendencies and pushes you against the nearest wall, placing his thigh between your legs to distract you.

"We're in public," you laugh as you pull away from his swollen lips.

"Let's go then," he smirks. He walks quickly through the crowd, flipping off Elena as he walks past her. You grab hold his hand and smile, staring straight at her as she goes back into her kissing session. You make it outside, the chilly air giving you goosebumps. Jake gives opens the door for you, giving you a blue jean jacket from his backseat. You put it on, his scent overwhelming you.

"And you're absolutely sure you-" He begins before you interrupt him with a short peck on the lips.

"Yes Jake." He nods and puts the car in reverse, grabbing your thigh once you make it on the main road.

"My house?" He asks. You nod, not wanting to go into your room and allow him to see the hanging polaroids and framed picture of you and James. He squeezes your thigh in response. The drive ends shortly, and you notice that his hand is way further up than it started.

He gets out of the car and opens the door, guiding you through the familiar house to his bed. You sit on the edge and he leans down in front of you, taking off your red heels.

"Oh what a gentleman," you tease as you crawl back against the headboard, letting him hold himself up on top of you.

"Mhm," he moans, leaning in for a desperate kiss. "I've missed your lips," he says while pulling away. Your heart sinks at his claim, yet you know it's way too soon into your breakup to catch feelings for your ex once more. Guilt takes over you. Two months isn't that long, right?

"Why Jake? You've had Elena for a while now. Why do you miss me?" You ask.

"I don't know how I can make it clearer that I never liked her like I did you. You were and still are so special to me." The sentence drops your heart even more, your butterflies almost making you nauseous. "You probably don't feel the same though, and I guess I understand why." The thought rings in your mind. Did you ever love James more than Jake? James was easier to be around, as he was always less busy. He didn't have such high expectations on him. Maybe that's why you loved him so much. He was the part of Jake you wanted to be around. He didn't have a huge job where he was never home. He wasn't touring the country. He was actually able to show you affection. And the biggest part, he looked very similar to Jake...

"You don't know that," you finally manage to speak.

"You liked me more than James? After what I did?

"Jake...: You whisper, grabbing his arms. "I was absolutely in love with you. We were together for so long. It's difficult to compare that to a two month relationship." Jake smiles in pride and kisses you passionately. His tongue glides across yours, making you forget the whole conversation about James. Tonight was a night to forget about him, and that's what you're going to do. "Make me forget about him," you say out loud without even realizing. His eyes spark, starstruck by your request.

"I'll do anything you want sweetheart." He smirks, covering it by biting his lip. Your face gets hot by the minute as he reaches his hand up and cups your tit. While squeezing, he begins to suck on your neck. A red spot remains as he moves away, which shows that you are his for the night. Remnants of him will stay on your body, giving proof of the sins. You don't care though, in fact, you hope James sees somehow. You want him to know how you feel. You want him to know that you chose Jake over him. Not in a way to make him jealous, but to show him what he missed out on. To show him what he will never have again.

"You're so sexy in this dress," he rasps. Your mind flips to the lingerie you have on under it, originally intended for someone else.

"It would be better if you took it off, in my opinion," you tease.

"Oh yeah?" He raises his eyebrows, slowly pulling on the shoulder straps. "Do you really deserve that special treatment, princess? I shouldn't make you strip it off in front of me?"

"Jake please," you whimper. Tonight will be a long night.

"Use your words," he lifts up your chin with his index finger, looking you in the eyes.

"Fuck me," you moan. He slides the straps down further, and you help him slide the dress down your legs. A pink matching set lines your body, making him noticeably hard through his jeans.

"Dressed up for your little boyfriend huh? Too bad he's missing out on this." He slides his fingers across your clit, the fabric of the lace covering it. "So wet and desperate for me. I hope he's so jealous right now." One more word from Jake and you feel as if your heart might stop. "I need you so bad baby please," you squeeze your legs together in order to relieve some tension. He notices and pushes them apart immediately. "Please Jake."

"I think I'd rather listen to you beg for me all night." He kisses your stomach, trailing down to the top of your panties, gently pulling on them with his teeth. He looks you in the eyes and stops midway. Running his hands up your body, he unclasps your bra. You become tired of waiting and start to rub circles through your panties. He grabs your hand and puts it behind your back, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

"Be patient, love." He centers his attention back to where he was initially, pulling down the lace bottoms fully. All of a sudden, he glides his tongue flatly across your slit. Electricity shoots through your body. He is doing this simply for you to feel pleasure, not him. You forgot how good this felt, as James only ever cared about if he was going to finish or not.

"Feels so good," you mumble.

"We just started baby," he smirks as he moves his head back. His tongue gains speed with every flick. He sucks on your clit, moans forcing their way out of you at the touch. You grab his brunette locks and watch as he devours your cunt. A quiet moan vibrates off his tongue as you pull his hair.

"I'm so close," you practically yell. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sliding one into you to get you used to it. He sadly moves his head away and raises up to kiss you as he fucks you with his finger. He slides one more in shortly. "Fuck baby go faster I'm so close." He menacingly slows down and bites your lip as he ends the current kiss. He positions his tongue back over your clit and continues to push his fingers into you, curling at just the right spot.

"Jake!" You shout his name like a prayer as you release your orgasm onto his fingers.

"You did so good princess," he cups your jaw with his hand.

"My turn," you say as you attempt to catch your breath.

"What?"

"Lay down." To your surprise he turns over and actually lays on his back. He used to hate letting you be in control. "Going to fuck you better than that bitch Elena ever did."

"Won't be hard to beat," he laughs. He unzips his jeans and pulls them off, throwing them on the floor nearby. You help him pull his shirt off and run your hands down his chest to take in the moment. You've really missed this, no matter what your mind tries to convince you. You take his dick in your mouth, letting your hands cover the rest of his length. You start to pump with your mouth and get faster as he whimpers underneath you.

"Condom?" You ask. He reaches into his nightstand and rips one open with his teeth. You help him slide it on, then crawl up to straddle his waist. With his help you begin to ride him, butterflies filling your stomach. Whimpers escape from his lips. He grabs your waist with one hand to guide your hips back and forth as you bounce, his other hand squeezing your boob. Another orgasm rises in you.

"I'm going to cum baby keep going," he reassures you as you start to slow down. Tired from all the movement, you pull off and take the condom off, sucking his dick once more. You rub your clit, his face alone almost sending you over the edge. "Fuck," he sighs as he releases into your mouth, watching you swallow him. He looks down and sees you touching yourself. "Desperate for another?" Your face gets hot at his observation.

"What if I am?" You tease. He flips you on you back and immediately starts to fuck you with his fingers. You're taken by surprise, but you love it more than anything. He curls as he slowly pumps them at just the right place and speed.

"C'mon baby finish for me." His words unravel the knot in your stomach, causing you to cum on him once more. "Good girl," he mutters before sucking you off his fingers. He kisses you longingly, then makes a trail of pecks to your neck. "Next time you think of that asshole ex of yours, I want you to remember what that kiss tasted like. What we taste like."

"I'm all yours now Jake."

"I know you are," he replies while walking to his drawer. He pulls out a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old band t-shirt, putting them on in front of you. "Are you staying the night?" The question rings in your head. Why is he asking you? Why do you want to stay the night with your ex? Why did you do any of this?

"If you don't mind," you respond before thinking. He reaches in and grabs you similar clothes to his.

"Of course not. Do you want anything? Water or snacks?"

"Just you," you grin. He turns the light off and climbs into the bed with you once you have put the clothes on. His body lies inches from you, not daring to touch you or else feelings might form again. Uncertainty of your own feelings stream throughout your thoughts. "Jake?"

"Yeah?" He turns over to face you, moonlight barely shimmering down on him from a window.

"Are you going to go back to Elena and act like this never happened?"

"After seeing you so vulnerable tonight I don't think I could ever look into her eyes again. I really missed you." He places his hand on your cheek. His thumb unconsciously moves back and forth.

"Does this make me a bad person?" You ask silently.

"Why would you be a bad person?"

"James," you say shortly.

"He clearly deserves this. I don't to assume anything or hurt you, but he's probably out fucking some girl right now. I don't see why he ever would, you're the best girlfriend anyone could ask for." He speaks from experience.

"It's not just that though."

"What is it then?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"I'm catching feelings for you again. They never completely left to begin with. When we broke up, I found James, yet his only job was the replace the hole you left in me. I wanted you. In the back of my head, I have for the whole two months leading up to today. I never got over you, I never will. I understand if you don't feel the same way, I just needed to tell you sooner rather than later. That being if we ever even talk again after tonight."

"I feel the same way love." The name makes your heart pump faster.

"What does this mean for us?" You worriedly ask.

"I think it means we need to take things slow if we ever want to go back. You just need-" He says before you interrupt.

"So you do want to go back?"

"Is that bad?" He questions

"I want to as well, so I guess it's okay." You smile.

"We can have a fresh start if we just pace it right. Rushing into a relationship the same day you got broken up with probably isn't a good idea. Tomorrow I will make breakfast and let you sleep in. We can act however you want, no label."

"That sounds perfect," you yawn.

"Good," he smiles. You lean and kiss him on the cheek. He pulls you closer, yet leave a gap in between you just in case. You scoot in, wishing to be as close as possible. He hugs you and runs his hands up and down your back. You slide a hand up his shirt, craving his warmth in such a cold room. Eyelids getting heavy, you close your eyes and dream about a fresh start with Jake Kiszka.

#jake kiska fic #jake kiszka #jake kiskza x reader #greta van fic #greta van smut #jake gvf #fanfic

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deadric-diggory0624 · 1 year

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Who I Write For xo

HI! I'm kenzie and this is my main masterlist for people that I write for! I used to be strictly a harry potter writer, but now that I am older I try to write for more people <3 A reminder that requests are open so if you see anyone and think of anything pls send one in!

Main Masterlist

Request Rules:

I will write smut unless the request includes any of the following: noncon, cnc, piss play, and pet play

All my fics are x reader, however if you want me to write a ship, send it in and I will see if I can write it

As I am a woman, I feel it is most appropriate that I only write for fem!reader or gn!reader <3

I will write for poly characters x reader, just make sure to be specific with who you want to include

Please be specific with your requests, the more details you add, the more I can make it what you want xx

I will write for heavy topics, those fics will have a large TW for those who are uncomfortable

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Cedric Diggory

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

James Potter

Hunger Games

Peeta Mellark

Finnick Odair

young Coriolanus Snow

The Last Kingdom

Uhtred

Sihtric

Finan

Osferth

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Shadow and Bone

Aleksander Morozova

Kaz Brekker

Jesper Fahey

Top Gun/ Top Gun Maverick

Pete Mitchell "Maverick"

Nick Bradshaw "Goose"

Bradley Bradshaw "Rooster"

Bob Floyd "Bob"

Jake Sersin "Hangman"

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Eddie Munson

Jonathan Byers

Jim Hopper

Misc Famous People

Harry Styles

Niall Horan

Louis Tomlinson

Zayn Malik

Tom Holland

Andrew Garfield (I can write for most of his characters xx)

Timothee Chalamet

Danny Wagner

Josh Kiszka

Sam Kiszka

Jake Kiszka

Elvis Presley

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ilongfor-the-arts · 2 years

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Rockstar fic recs:

(I’ll update this if I find anything else good ;)

Fics:

Izzy Stradlin -

lust for life🌶

prompt smut🌶

best served cold🌶

Josh Kiszka -

pullout couch🌶

Feather Light🌶

Roger Taylor -

Medical🌶

Kirk Hammett -

Need🌶

James Hetfield (on ao3) -

stinking drunk with power🌶

hands🌶

Slash-

our little secret🌶

daddy’s girl🌶(WattPad)

Jimmy Page-

“Church girl” ficlet ⚡️

The Mile High Club 🌶

Gerard Way:

First Time for Everything 🌶 (3 parter)

Authors:

Greta Van Fleet - @garbagevanfleet @godlygreta @arcaneblaine @eatmejoshkiszka @stardustchordssammy @greta-van-fics @tripthelightfandomtastic

Etc. rock bands - @thesmokingguns @oldschoolimagineblog @lost-in-the-80s @s-lasxh @duffmckagans @eatmyshiftsticky @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @thepinklovewitch @xx-sikki-nixx-xx @brianbabey @tremble-and-shake @xocasper

#reading recommendations #fanfic rec

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bandontherunn · 2 years

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After Hours (Jake Kiszka x f!reader)

Jake has this little game he likes to play, and you looked like the perfect pawn.

18+ minors dni!! 5.4k words (Warnings: pure smut, fingering, oral f+m receiving, unprotected sex)

Your veins still ran hot as the arena lights flicked on, bathing everything in their harsh white light. You could feel the hair that had fallen out of your clip, sticking to the back of your neck with sweat. It sounded like you were under water as the stage before you stood empty.

Just as quickly as it had begun, it ended and now the only evidence that anything happened there are the white petals and various objects that had been thrown there in high hopes. Your hands relax on the rail before you, no longer feeling the need to claim your place. Your eyes scan the crowd for a familiar face, any of your friends, but they are seemingly lost in the sea of equally sweaty bodies.

You turn your head and sigh, taking one last look at the stage in hopes maybe there was something there now that there wasn’t before, one more thing to commit to memory. You turn on your heel to follow the flow of people heading out the doors, when your eyes briefly catch on another set staring back at you. You halt as the middle aged man in the bright green shirt beckons you with his pointer finger, knowing better than to try to speak over the cacophonous room.

Confused and rightly so, you step closer to the man until your hands curl around the barricade once again. Your stomach sinks, worried you were in trouble, or worried that perhaps someone had snitched on you for the half smoked joint hidden under your left breast.

“Come with me” the man spoke softly to you, he did not seem upset. Sensing your hesitation he explains, “I’m James, and there is someone back there who wants to see you” your stomach is really flipping now, your mind going directly to the best case scenario. You shake the thought from your head like a loose marble.

You fling your leg over the barricade as the man, who you now know as James, helps to steady you. As you follow him through the narrow pass to the side of the stage you fix your shirt, discreetly adjusting your bra against your ribcage. You slip through a door behind him and take your hair down from its clip, smoothing it out. The moment you enter the room you are thankful for the excessive primping, because the first pair of eyes you meet make you stop dead in your tracks. Her long brown hair frames her face, and she looks even more ethereal in person.

“Hi darling!” Her pearly white smile nearly blinds you and your fingers start to feel numb. She’s dressed in a beautiful blouse and a pair of leather pants.

“Hi-“ Your voice doesn’t sound like the squeak you were expecting. You’re handling this moment better than you had in your daydreams.

“I have something for you-“ she explains as she starts walking forward towards another set of doors. She stops and turns back to look at you when she doesn’t hear your footsteps following behind her.

“What’s going on?” You pick at your nail polish, starting to feel overwhelmed.

“Oh, hun” she tilts her head and walks back over to you, reaching out to your hand that you hope isn’t clammy, for the sake of both of you. “We like to play this little…game. Jake and I” at the mention of his name your mouth suddenly feels like the desert. “I scan the crowd, get to pick out one girl for him at every tour. But only one. I’m not too keen on sharing”

“Share?” You interrupt, but she doesn’t pay any mind; she just squeezes your hand and continues explaining.

“unless of course I see them fit enough to share. And you- well I was hesitant with it being the first show of the tour but I couldn't keep my eyes off you.” She stands before you so sure of herself. You feel your cheeks flame and you hope they aren’t as red as you feel.

You open your mouth to speak but the door opens behind you and you turn your head in time to see Josh slip through, still clad in his crushed velvet jumpsuit, his makeup smudged. His eyes move between you and the girl next to you, a small smirk playing at his lips. He looks back at you and reaches out to grab your hand, “Nice to meet you, mama” he says bringing it to his lips as a quick welcome. His gaze flutters over to the woman who occupies your other hand and winks, leaving around the side of a divider placed in the middle of the room. A door shuts and you relax, not realizing you were so tense until he left.

After a bout of strangely comfortable silence she squeezes your hand, “are you ready?” She asks laced with obviously subdued excitement. You nod, not fully comprehending what you were even ready for. She starts walking towards the door at the back of the room, taking you with her. The door knob clicks as she turns it, you notice everything in your heightened state. The door opens silently, giving way for the music being played quietly in the room on the other side.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim and smoky atmosphere of the room, but you start taking note of everything you see. A vanity adorned with crystal glasses and a bottle of jack daniels, a pair of chelsea boots knocked over on the floor, and a cherry red SG laying in its case on the floor. the woman next to you sighs just as softly as the smoke from the lit incense on the table tendrils to the ceiling.

You follow her gaze over to the couch pressed against the opposite wall, where he sat with his feet propped up on the table, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Hello doll” he sits up, and you look over your shoulder.

She leans in and whispers against the shell of your ear. “He’s talking to you… doll” she drags out the pet name like honey on her tongue.

You whip your head back around to look at him, and he’s standing inches from you. You don’t know where to look, you can’t possibly make eye contact, not right now- but staring at the sweaty expanse of his bare chest doesn’t seem particularly polite either. Though you have a feeling there is nothing polite about why you’re here.

There is a thick tension in the air, you don’t have to be particularly intune with energies to pick up on it. Jake reaches up and you hold your breath as he twirls a lock of your hair between his fingers. You breathe out and look up at him, feeling his stare on you. It's no surprise that your eyes meet his. He drags his eyes up and down your body, slowly.

If you weren’t frozen in place you'd feel the urge to cover yourself, despite being fully clothed. The way he looked at you, like he was already aware of what was underneath.

“She did really good this time” He shifts his gaze directly behind you and a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. A soft laugh rings out from behind you, she’s close enough that you can feel her cool breath against your warm neck and it makes you shiver.

He tugs lightly on the lock of hair still wrapped around his fingers and looks back at you. You hear the door to the room shut gently behind you and you turn to find the room void of anyone but the two of you.

“Don’t be so tense, babydoll, I don’t bite” His tongue swipes across teeth and he drops his hand from your hair. “Do you want a drink?”

Your first thought is to decline, but the anxious knot in your stomach answers for you. “Yes please”

You watch as he walks over to the vanity, and pours a generous amount of whiskey into two crystal glasses. He saunters over to the couch and sits down comfortably, reaching behind him to turn the volume on the stereo up just a bit.

“C’mere” he pats the cushion next to him. You’re walking, but it feels like you’re floating as you round the mahogany table that he’s placing the glasses on. You sink into the couch next to him and grab the whiskey, not wasting time to let the alcohol burn your throat along with any inhibitions.

“I always get so worked up during shows” he breaks the silence, his voice floating easily over the music. “The adrenaline of a hundred people screaming my name-“ he leans back and takes a swig off his whiskey, swallowing it like water. “It’s intoxicating”

The things you could say back to him run through your brain a million miles a minute. If only you had a bit more liquid courage, maybe you could’ve given into the fantasy you’ve worked up in your own head. Instead you find yourself staring at him, the way the sweat has dried his hair into haphazard strings, his necklace laying against his sternum. You wonder how it would look up close, swaying over your face from above.

“‘Look but don’t touch’ doesn’t apply to you right now, you know that right?” He leans forward, setting his now empty glass on the table with a clink, you don’t recall him finishing it.

“I know-“ You bring your glass up to your lips and your brain is already starting to fill with smoke, and he’s only feeding the fire. “But you’re just so pretty to look at” you reach over and set your glass down a little rougher than you intended to, partly because you refused to look away from him.

He smiles and leans back into the couch, spreading his legs slightly. He’s putting himself on display for you and you can’t stop your eyes from trailing down his chest, to his hips, where his jeans are hanging dangerously low. Your fingers twitch against your knees, aching to reach out and run them across his skin.

“Go on” he encourages as if he heard your thoughts. You surprise yourself with how quickly you accept the invitation reaching your hand out, your fingers tracing across his torso with enough pressure to indent the skin. His hand wraps around your waist and pulls you in closer, guiding you until you throw your leg over his waist and settle into his lap.

You press both of your hands to his chest, confident your heartbeat would be audible if it weren’t for the music. Your hands adopt a mind of their own as you take advantage of the opportunity you’ve been given. You slide them up his chest and up to the back of his neck, threading your fingers into his hair. His hands find your hips, holding you so firmly you feel each fingertip pressed into your skin individually.

You rake your nails gently across his scalp, earning a shiver from him, “atta girl” he breathes, running his hands up your sides. You’d been so occupied with nerves you hadn’t noticed the growing heat between your legs until he took the liberty of moving your hips down against his lap. You bite on your lower lip and move your hips again, this time with little help from him.

“Eager are we?” His grin is smug, though his composure is nothing near solid. His breathing being the only thing giving it away.

“You don’t even understand” You sigh as you start moving your hips against him more rhythmically, sliding effortlessly against the fabric of your soaked panties.

“I think I’m starting to” he groans, gripping your hips and picking you up off his lap like you weighed no more than a feather. A small yelp leaves your lips as you’re thrown back into the couch and he gets up onto his knees as he keeps your hips pressed into the cushions.

“I’ll be gentle, babydoll” he murmurs with more delicious pressure on your hips, “but tell me if you need me to stop”

You nod and pull him down against you so fervently that you feel like the air has left your lungs, your chests nearly flush. It doesn’t help your case when his lips meet yours feverishly. His hands are slipping under your shirt delicately and before you can comprehend it, your shirt is laid out on the floor, leaving your black bra to be the only thing keeping you modest.

“So pretty baby” He trails his fingertips up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. He toys with the small bow on your bra before hooking his pointer finger under it. He looks up at you as he slowly pulls the fabric away from your chest. Your breasts slip away from the silky confines and his eyes follow the movement as they bounce into their natural state. He groans, slipping his hand around your back to unhook the clasp, and let it fall to the side.

His eyebrows furrow, a look of confusion adopting his features. He reaches out and his expression relaxes as he audibly laughs, plucking the end of the half smoked joint from beneath your tit.

“Oh” you mumble, your cheeks turning pink as you snort a quiet laugh. “Forgot about that”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised in the slightest” he grins, leaning over to set the joint on the table, “for later” he winks and turns his attention back to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw.

Your nipples are hard against the cool air of the room, though the state of them has barely anything to do with temperature. You wiggle your hips against his hands, desperate for any friction you can find, but he only presses you further into the cushion. “Huh uh sweet girl- stay still”

You tip your eyebrows up, ready to complain when he dips down, nearly leveling his face to your chest. He looks up at you, his dark eyes taking on an even darker expression that makes your toes curl. He leans forward and presses his tongue flat against your nipple, giving it a quick lick before pulling back and blowing across it. You arch your back slightly against the couch, pressing yourself up closer to him. He pulls back, a smirk playing across his lips as he shakes his head too fondly for the situation.

Your mouth falls open, a protesting groan leaving your chest as he hovers over you. Nothing could’ve really prepared you for what he was about to do. Which is why when he parts his lips and spits directly onto your tit, you can’t control the whine formed in the shape of his name that escapes you.

“Oh she likes that-“ He whispers, his eyes flicking up to yours. He dips down again, spreading his spit across your skin with his tongue. He hums as he laps at the supple skin, taking his time savoring the taste of you. You stay still, though your hands are aching to reach up and push his unbuttoned excuse for a shirt off his shoulders.

Though you hadn’t surprised yourself, staying calm enough to appear collected when your eyes first met his, you’ve surprised yourself with the restraint you have despite the situation. You’d imagined this moment countless times, give or take a few details. You’d imagined him a bit rougher, you imagined he’d throw you around like a rag doll, stripping you down and leaving love bites where your skin was newly exposed. You understand why it’s called an imagination in this moment- because how could you have ever really known.

“Are you nervous, doll?” He speaks, pulling you from your own head. You look up at him, his brows knit in relaxed concern. “You’re so tense- try and relax for me, yeah?”

“I’m sorry this is just- am I dreaming?” You continue to look up at him and he laughs, slipping his button up off his shoulders and onto the floor.

He leans back down, his necklace swaying like a pendulum in front of you. “If you were- would you be able to feel this?” He presses two fingers directly against your heat, pressing into the soft fabric of your leggings. You bite your lip as you roll your hips against his touch, shaking your head.

“I asked you a question, baby” he starts massaging slow circles against you. “Use your words”

“No” you respond quickly, your breath shakily exiting your lungs. You’re coming undone rapidly under his touch, you’re wrapped around his talented fingers- and he knows it.

“Bless your heart” He sighs and slips his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, stretching it before letting it snap back against your skin. The sting is just enough to make you jolt, and he smirks, reaching to slide them down over the curve of your ass. He grabs your ankles, guiding your legs into the air. He peels the fabric off the rest of the way and they join his shirt on the floor.

The moment you feel the cool air hit your skin you curse your past self for deciding to forgo underwear. He seems to have noticed long before you, his eyes glued to your pussy and his lower lip between his teeth.

“It’s like you were ready for me” he all but groans as his lip slides out from between his teeth. “Look at you” he reaches down, sliding a single finger through your slick. “Fuck- you’re soaked babydoll”

he brings his finger to his mouth, his eyes fluttering as he sucks the digit into his mouth. “So fucking sweet”

You surprise even yourself when the words fall from your mouth without your permission. “You can have another taste” you let your legs fall to either side and his eyes visibly become heavy with lust, his hands reaching out to grip your thighs.

“Mm there she is, I knew you could talk” he pushes your legs further apart until you feel your hips strain and dips down. He parts his lips slightly, blowing across your arousal as he looks up at you. Your entire body is wired with anticipation, the seconds feeling like minutes as he holds out on you.

You plead back with your eyes, as he leans closer, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. He closes his eyes, along with the gap between you, sighing as he places a gentle, licit kiss against a most illicit place.

His tongue flits out against your deprived clit, causing your body to jolt involuntarily. Tenuous licks continue to impair your train of thought, until the only word running through your mind is his name. He slides his hands from your hips up to your waist, pulling you into his face as he licks a slow flat stripe from your entrance to your clit. He circles his tongue around your sensitive bud before enclosing his mouth on you and sucking. You suppress a moan to the best of your ability, but it comes out as a muffled whine.

You throw your head back against the couch, your mouth falling open. Your breath feels like it’s been snatched from your lungs as he laps his tongue against you, his fingers pressing harder into your delicate skin. You hope he’ll leave marks.

Your hands are in his hair, acting on their own accord as you push down, grinding your hips up to meet his lips. He moans against your heat, sending minuscule vibrations through your all too sensitive nerves. You feel the familiar tension between your hips, like a rubber band that’s dangerously close to snapping. You involuntarily buck your hips up into his mouth, his tongue slipping inside you.

The sensation is so foreign and the sounds coming from between your legs are so lewd, you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so focused on getting off. The tip of his nose brushes against your clit with each pass of his tongue and you twist your fingers into his hair, panting. “God yes- right there- stay right there”

“You gonna cum for me doll?” He asks between licks, “let go baby, I’ve got you- let me taste it” he rasps and you feel him lazily smile against you. The rubber band snaps and you shut your eyes so tight that you see stars, white hot pleasure radiating through your body. His tongue feels like velvet as you ride out your orgasm, your body jolting as he slows his movements in tandem with yours. Your breath heaves in your chest, feeling as though you could pass out unless you leveled your breathing. You open your eyes as he pulls away from you, the sight of him between your legs and the mess you’ve made across the lower half of his face makes you ache.

He licks his lips and nearly crawls up your body until his face is above yours. He dips down, pressing his lips to your neck just under your ear. “You came so pretty for me- makes me want to do it again” his breath is hot against your neck. Your heart flutters in your chest as he drags his lips up your cheek and presses them to yours. They part immediately, his tongue sliding across your own.

He moans into you as his rough fingertips brush against you once more. “I can’t keep my hands off that pretty pussy” He teases your entrance with butterfly touches before sinking his slender fingers deep inside you. Your hips grind fluidly against them, as he curls his fingers so slowly inside you. Letting his head hang next to yours and his breath fan over your neck. He presses in deeper until his fingertips brush against a part of you that makes you clamp your legs around his hand. “Found it” he whispers against your ear, his voice low and gravely. “So warm and tight, can’t wait to bury my cock into you, beautiful” you clench around his fingers and he breathes a laugh into your hair. You feel his lips moving against your ear when he speaks, “yeah, you like that?”

Your eyebrows tip up in a fucked out fashion as his thumb presses lightly against your clit, toying with it as he works his fingers inside you. You are losing your composure little by little, giving into him with every touch he gives to your body. He sits back again, only to seemingly admire you in your disheveled state. His fingers slowly lose their momentum inside you before they’re slipping out. You groan at the loss, your fingernails digging into the couch cushion.

He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing around his digits. You nearly see stars as you watch his eyes flutter shut, his cheekbones becoming more prominent as he sucks you off of him. He pulls his fingers out with a pop, a smug grin spreading across his face. He leans back down until his nose is brushing against yours, and you can feel his lips ghost against your own as he says, “so good babydoll, want a taste?”

His tongue runs against your lower lip, before pressing his lips to yours in the most sensual way you think you’d ever been kissed. You wrap your arms around him and part your lips to let him in. He accepts, eagerly deepening the kiss. You swear you’re breathing his breath into your lungs as your mouths open against each other messily. He tastes like salt and whiskey, he smells like the earth after it rains, and he is making you feel unconditionally euphoric. Your teeth clink together and you can feel him smile, his fingers reaching down to pop open the button on his jeans.

You reach your hands down to his sides and slip your fingertips into the loosened waistband, sliding them down as far as you can manage before he gets up and quickly pulls them off himself. It shouldn’t have surprised you but it did nonetheless when his boxers followed shortly after, it was also no surprise that this man was perfect down to his beautiful cock.

You press your thighs tightly together as it slaps against his abdomen, a groan of relief passing his lips. You prop yourself up, swinging your legs over the side of the couch to sit up. He looks down at you, passing his hand down his length a few times before stepping closer to you.

You gaze up at him wide eyed and wanting as he reaches his unoccupied hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear. He smiles and grabs your hand, bringing it up to curl around his cock before his own hand wraps around yours. Slowly he starts guiding your hand against him, showing you how he likes it. You watch, your eyes flicking between the scene in front of you and his face. You absentmindedly lick your lips, aching to taste him as you watch little beads of sweat start to form on his hairline.

“Do you want it?” He softly grunts, nodding down at himself, his hair falling from his shoulders.

“Can I?” You breathe out.

“Please” he whispers in a pleading manner that makes your eyes roll back as you lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip of him. He takes his hand off yours and immediately places both of them into your hair, his fingers tangling into the strands. He breathes a shaky moan as you take him further, still slowly working your hand around the base. You take him deeper, flicking your tongue against the head of his cock with each pass.

“Mm yes, doll. Just like that darling-“ he tightens his fingers in your hair, pulling it. “Just like that” he moans, his hips jerking involuntarily causing him to hit the back of your throat. Tears spring to your eyes as you gag around him, urging yourself to take as much of him as you can.

“Such a good girl- you pretty thing, taking my cock so well” he groans and you press your legs together, rutting your hips against the couch. The friction feels heavenly as you continue to grind down against the cushion and you can feel the mess he’s made between your thighs with every movement.

A low pitched whine rattles through him, his breath catches in his throat and he pulls your head back, your lips sliding off of him. He looks down at you in time to see his cock still connected to your swollen lips with a string of spit, looking up at him with tear streaked doe eyes.

“Fuuck” he drags the word out softly like a praise, “lay down for me angel” he whispers, his fingertips lightly pressing on your shoulders.

He leans you back against the cushions tenderly, his entire demeanor changing. If you weren’t mistaken you see adoration behind his eyes, and it makes your heart skip a beat in your chest. The way he looks at you like he’s seeing you, really seeing you, though you don’t even recall giving him your name.

He taps the inside of your thigh and you let your legs fall open. He holds his beautiful cock, swiping the head of it up and down your slit and covering himself in your slick to before aligning himself with your pleading center.

You suck in a shallow breath of anticipation and press your fingertips into the small of his back. He slides into you slowly, stretching you out around him. Both of you sign into each other at the sensation. He starts to buck his hips carefully, forcing himself into the heat of your body. Your head lolls back against the armrest as he fully bottoms out inside of you. He picks up his pace slightly, pumping his hips against yours and you let out a loud moan, relishing in the feeling of finally being full.

Suddenly you feel one of Jake’s hands being pressed over your mouth, trying to muffle all the precious sounds that slip past your kiss-swollen lips. You open your mouth against his hand, licking the salty expanse of his palm before taking his fingers in your mouth, groaning around them as he continues to buck his hips against you.

“I know babydoll…I know” he soothes, whispering in your ear. His fingers slip from your mouth and make their way down, roaming your body and digging into your soft thighs. Jake buries his head in the crook of your neck, sighing. His hair brushes against your chest as his hips continue to snap up into yours. You run your fingernails up and down his back, tracing his spine and causing goosebumps to rise up on his dampened skin.

“hmm feels so good Jakey” you whisper, sounding completely dazed. Jake groans quietly at the name, his hot lips graze the skin of your neck, his hands roam all over your soft form as he thrusts into you. His hand is placed underneath you against the small of your back, guiding your hips up to meet him halfway in a delicious angle that deepens the penetration, causing both of you to roll your eyes back in pleasure.

You sigh as he pulls out, and you barely manage to hold back a fucked out moan as he thrusts all the way back in. His brown eyes darken as he bottoms out into your cervix and a moan that would be better categorized as a borderline scream leaves your lips. He pushes your legs further apart, changing the angle on which he’s fucking into you, and you hear him hissing curses through clenched teeth.

Your hand slides down to where your bodies connect, your fingers flicking over your swollen clit slowly, pleasuring yourself. He groans at the sight, his pace becoming sloppy and abrupt as he feels your walls clamp around him. Your mind starts feeling fuzzy and body tenses, you feel your release quickly approaching

“Jakey I’m so close” - you whine meekly, reaching up to kiss him but only grazing his jawline with your weak attempt. He nods at your words, his ragged breathing fanning over your sweat-covered chest

“Let me have it sweetheart” he rasps, “let that pretty cunt soak me” His words shoot straight between your legs, your back arching off the couch against him. You feel the knots growing tighter in your stomach, his electric touches circulating through your veins and to every smallest cell of your body.

It takes only a few more deep thrusts to push you over the edge, pleasure rolls over your body wave after wave, crashing your whole being with thrumming pleasure. Your grip on Jake is so tight that you’re sure that you’ll leave bruises on his skin, but you can’t find the heart to care. He messily pumps into you a few more times before his hips lurch, and he’s filling you up, coating your walls, with the prettiest little whimper escaping his lips.

He leans forward, and you watch a bead of sweat roll down the bridge of his nose before dripping off the tip and falling between your breasts. He rests his forehead against yours, your noses rubbing together as both of you try to catch your breaths, eyes closed euphorically. His cock rests inside you, and you can feel it slowly slip as it goes soft, you relish in the intimate moment. As your mind starts clearing out you realize just how hot it is, the air is sticky and heavy and your bodies are covered in a sheen of sweat.

He guides you on your side, pressing your backside against the back of the couch and his cock slips from you, eliciting a soft sigh from the both of you. You can feel his release slipping down the side of your thigh as he shifts his body so he’s laying next to you, his chest pressed to yours.

“You’re a beautiful girl” he says softly, brushing your hair behind your shoulders, before running his fingers down your arm. His hand finally rests in the dip of your waist, rubbing small circles into your skin with his thumb.

“Thank you” you reply even softer and you can’t help but feel a little empty. You push the feeling down, pushing away the thoughts of how this inevitably ends.

“Thank you for sharing this with me” he brings you closer and presses his lips to your forehead, before letting your head lay against his chest. The music is still playing softly, a song you recognize but can’t quite place your finger on. The room is still hazy though the incense is long burnt out, the smell of sex replacing it’s fragrant musk.

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fic #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet #gvf imagine #gvf fanfiction #gvf one shot #jake kiszka one shot #gvf smut #gvf #josh kiszka #sam kiskza

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gretavandutchy · 2 years

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blue hour | masterlist

{sam kiszka x fem!reader}

blue hour is the short period of time before sunrise or after sunset when the sun is just below the horizon. indirect sunlight is evenly diffused and takes on a blue shade.

summary: traveling the world as greta van fleet's touring photographer seemed like a dream come true, but as the days pass you worry it may just be your worst nightmare. work is rapidly merging with pleasure, and as feelings change you're left to wonder: does what happens on tour really stay on tour?

total word count: n/a

warnings: infidelity (reader has an oc!boyfriend)!!! a lot of smut, a lot of angst. reader and sam are both very morally grey characters. language throughout, alcohol, drug usage.

ONE ◦ TWO ◦ THREE ◦ FOUR ◦ FIVE ◦ SIX ◦ SEVEN ◦ EIGHT ◦ NINE ◦ TEN ◦ ELEVEN ◦ TWELVE ◦ THIRTEEN ◦ FOURTEEN ◦ FIFTEEN

NSFW/18+

playlist:

39-21-46 · the showmen ◦ all i want · joni mitchell ◦ alone · heart ◦ blurry · puddle of mudd ◦ can't nobody love you · solomon burke ◦ comedown · bush ◦ crazy on you · heart ◦ devil in disguise · elvis presley ◦ down in the valley · solomon burke ◦ drowse · queen ◦ goodbye baby (goodbye) · solomon burke ◦ hold me · fleetwood mac ◦ just like jesse james · cher ◦ lily of the valley · queen ◦ little lies · fleetwood mac ◦ lover, leaver (taker, believer) · greta van fleet ◦ plush · stone temple pilots ◦ rhiannon · fleetwood mac ◦ stay · maurice williams & the zodiacs ◦ the weight of dreams · greta van fleet ◦ the wrong girl · the showmen ◦ where you lead · carole king ◦ wicked garden · stone temple pilots ◦ young love · sonny james

is it chaotic? yes. am i ashamed of that? no. i stand by the cher song so nobody come for me. i will fight over it

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka au #sam kizka x reader #sam kiszka series #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka angst #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka x you #sam kiszka fanfic

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mollymarymarie · 5 years

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Come On Back To Me

I know, I know. This isn’t Wolfstar (which is, like 99% of what my life is made of), but my PSM (@sparrowof-thedawn) commissioned me to write some smut about Sam Kiszka (bass player from Greta Van Fleet), and I WENT OFF on it. I have a soft spot for boys in bands.

Obviously the smut means NSFW, so use caution, friends. Also, I go through a bit of set-up, so give it a minute.

“I don’t have time to think about it, that’s all there is to it,” you say with the smile that you were accustomed to plastering on, a smile that was becoming increasingly more common. A smile that covered the tired ache constantly hiding behind your lips.

“No,” your best friend, Casey replies with that sarcastic drip to her voice that assures you know she is about to side-step all your bullshit. “You’re not willing to make the time.”

You take a long sip of the Americano in your hand, rolling your eyes dramatically from across the table at Starbucks. The smile on your lips became a little more genuine. It had been weeks since the two of you had been able to spend any time together at all, both of you doing medical residencies in completely different cities. It was a stark and unwelcome contrast from your school days, when you spent nearly every waking hour together.

“Easy for you to say, you live with yours. He’s literally at arm’s length every time you turn around,” you say with a scoff in your tone. You would never undermine the struggle that Casey and her husband had gone through to be together, but she still couldn’t argue that point. She could sit there and tell you that you would find someone eventually, that you would settle down, that you would find happiness, but she had found hers relatively early. They had been together for so long, Casey didn’t even know what dating meant right now.

“I know,” she says, an irritated growl forming in the back of her throat. She knows she’s losing this argument, so she turns to sentiment to win. “You just can’t see what you have. You’re too focused on what you think other people think you lack.”

“Oh?” you laugh bitterly, throwing up a dark, high-arching brow in disbelief. Again, an easy point for her to make in defense. She wasn’t the one whose last relationship ended in flames because her boyfriend of two years decided the distance was too much and their history wasn’t enough. Granted, it had been over a year since they broke up, but the point remained.

“Yes,” she insists with an exaggerating hiss. “First of all, let’s ignore looks, shall we?”

“We’d have to,” you mutter into your paper cup.

“I heard that, shut the fuck up,” she quips immediately with a snap of her fingers, in some dangerous border between playful and murderous. “There is so much magic in you, fam. You graduated with a doctorate, so you’re hella smart. You give your best friend pep talks when she goes through her third nervous breakdown of the month. You continue to love with your whole life despite all the shit that people have given you,” she clears her throat and you hear the name of your ex not-so-subtly buried in the cough that followed. You roll your eyes again.

“Which doesn’t matter because all people see is this,” you say, gesturing down your torso with both hands. Across the table, Casey’s mouth snaps shut and her eyes narrow.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Everybody wants a skinny super model. And I am not.”

“Neither the fuck am I!” she shouts, gathering the attention of damn near everyone in the coffee shop with you. For an introvert, she tends to be rather vocal. “If you’re an eclectic taste, then so am I. Still a lot of people that have the tattoo stigma, you know.” Off-handedly, she brushes over the bursts of color inked across her shoulders.

“But that’s a choice you made. I didn’t make the choice to be my size.”

“Same, though?” she said, her features softening a bit. “Literally the only reason I’m sort of thin is because of the celiac with my total shit diet,” she says with a smirk. “But it also gives me really bad skin and this stupid belly pooch that I’ll never get rid of and super thin hair.”

“Which you can –”she interrupts your argument.

“You, on the other hand,” she leans in, placing her face into her hands, propped up on the tabletop. “Look at you. Curls for miles, dark and silky and defined. Hair that a guy could lose a hand in and would be grateful to.” With one hand, you subconsciously twirl your hair around it in a whirl before tossing it over your shoulder. “You skin is nearly flawless, dotted with freckles like the damn stars in the sky but twice as beautiful.” You could feel a blush creeping up from the base of your throat. Your platonic soulmate had always had a way with words. There’s a reason people mistake you for a couple, more often than not.

She continues. “Your lips are so much fuller than mine and when you put on that deep red color, Jesus H. Christ, if I was into girls.”

“You are into girls.”

“It’s a figure of speech.”

“You literally could’ve just said ‘if I was single’.” An expression crosses over her face, all pursed lips and puffed cheeks, like being single was so unrealistic of an option (she’s sickeningly in love with her spouse, it’s disgusting) that she hadn’t even considered that. In her defense, she had figured out the bisexual thing pretty late in the game, long after she was married.

“Shut up,” she laughs, high and bright. “The point is you are young and beautiful and you have time.” You open your mouth to argue, but she speaks first. “You will have time, after this residency. Literally the only time I see James right now is for dinner and sex.”

“Separately, I hope,” you laugh against the lip of your coffee cup.

“You’d be surprised and disgusted by how often they overlap,” she says, raising her left brow. It’s like a bizarre innuendo trademark. If she’s making a sex joke, that eyebrow goes up and it’s so sharply pointed that it just makes her expression look so much more scandalous.

“I don’t even want that. I’m not even interested in the sex. Just the company.”

“Bless your little grace soul. The company is the best part, anyway,” she says with a shrug, taking the last sip of her chai latte. “Speaking of company, you still talking to Sammy?”

You roll your eyes again, wondering if you could do permanent damage with how often you’ve used those muscles in the last ten minutes. “No, I don’t talk to Sam anymore.”

“Wait, wait, hold on. Since, uh, when?” she asks with a twirl of her finger.

“Do you know who Sam is now?” you say with a sarcastic huff. “He’s not Sammy Boy from undergrad anymore. He’s Sam Fucking Kiszka and he’s been on SNL and he’s touring with Greta and he’s probably with a different girl every night and those girls don’t look like me.”

“I swear to God, I’ll murder you in your sleep tonight if you keep this up.”

“You know what I mean.” Irritation seeps into your voice. You love your PSM, but she doesn’t get this. If anything, she was probably Sam’s type when you were all hanging out together in your little college town. Sure, there was that one night, but you were drunk, and Sam was drunk, and nothing happened. It certainly seemed that way the next morning, anyway, considering it was something that neither of you ever brought up again.

-----------------

“I’m gonna give you my love!” Sam was yelling-slash-singing Led Zeppelin at the top of his lungs again and if it wasn’t so damn adorable, it would be annoying. Hell, if it was anyone else, it would be annoying, but it’s Sam and, unfortunately for you, you’re rather smitten with Sam.

“I’m taking this away from you,” Casey whispers with a syrupy smile as she slipped the square bottle out from Sam’s fingers. He barely even noticed.

“Oh, let him sing. It’s our last night together,” you say with a sigh, trying not to focus too much on that part. Tomorrow, you’d be moving to a new town, a bigger town, to start med school and Sam and his brothers (including Danny) would be setting out on their first tour.

It was a pretty fucking big deal, actually. GVF had been getting a lot of attention lately, so this first tour was sort of a long-play audition for some big-shot record executive and, if they did well, they were golden. And you knew they would do well because that’s what they always do.

“Hang on, stop right there,” Sam calls out, buried somewhere in a laugh, “You hate my singing.” With that look on his face that often showed up in your dreams, Sam saunters over to you, one of his dark eyebrows raised to its full capacity, his ever-lengthening brown hair, streaked with highlights given to him by the sun, falling down over the sharp edges of his cheeks.

“I don’t hate it,” you say under your breath as you take another sip from the tumbler in your hand. It was more like a gulp. This close, Sammy tends to make you nervous.

“You really are going to miss me, aren’t you?” From where you’re leaning against the kitchen counter, Sam encircles you with his arms, holding himself just far enough away that you could still smell the whiskey on his breath, the floral notes from the product in his hair.

“I’ll hardly notice you’re missing,” you lie, blatantly.

“That’s not what Casey tells me,” he says under a knowing smirk and you shoot a glare at your best friend, who gives you a brazen wink in return, lip curled up and everything, just before she vanishes into the living room to find her significant other.

“Casey is a damn liar,” you reply with a laugh and try to ignore what looks like adoration in Sammy’s expression at the sound of happiness in your voice. You read too far into him.

“Who else is going to give you shit for getting the only A on a test that everyone else failed? And don’t say Casey because she wasn’t in that class or she would’ve had an A, too.” As he speaks, his arms curl in until he’s nearly pressed against you. God, you wish he would let go.

“What about you?” you strike back, poking him in the chest and wishing you could spread your fingers out over his sharply defined collarbones pushing back from beneath his shirt. “Who will be there to make fun of you for dancing to Whitney Houston when no one is watching?”

He wrinkles his nose at you, and you melt a little inside. “Whitney is an icon, alright?”

“So I’ll miss you. A little.” You roll your eyes. You do that a lot in Sam’s direction. “Not like you. You won’t even remember my name a month from now.” The playful spark in Sam’s eyes goes out like a doused flame. In fact, he physically startles a little, pushing back from you.

“Won’t even remember your name?” he repeats with what sounds like hurt in his voice, but you know better than that. You feel like you’re always giving Sam feelings that he doesn’t have for you, hearing intonations in his voice that aren’t there, reading into little things he does that probably don’t have meaning to him. “Is that what you really think of me?”

You backtrack a little, concerned with this change in mood. “You’ll be too busy to miss me, Sam. A different city every night, a different party every night, a different girl.” That last part, you add under your breath, certain he’s too drunk to catch it, anyway.

“You realize that outside of the band, you and Casey and James are my best friends, right? We’ve been friends for the last four years. But you think I won’t even remember your name.” He pushes away from you, storming around the kitchen as he drags his hands through his thick, wavy hair, and you’re left to stand in stunned silence. Sam doesn’t get angry. Not like this.

“It was a joke, Sammy,” you say, even though it certainly hadn’t been a joke when you said it. It was actually the worst of your fears and it had been consuming you for weeks.

“No, I think you mean that,” Sam says, his voice escalating a bit as he circles the island of your kitchen, hands still buried in his hand, coming back to where you’re still standing.

“Alright, maybe a little bit, but I mean,” a blush bubbles up to encompass your face, knowing what you’re about to say to this boy you’ve had a crush on for four years, “Look at you.”

Sam stops in front of you. Stares at you. You squirm a bit under it. “I’m too busy looking at you,” he retorts, his eyes traveling across the features of your face. You see them settling over a patch of freckles underneath your eye, following them over the bridge of your nose to the mirrored opposite side. His eyelashes are so long, so dark that when he lowers his head to look at you through them, it darkens his gaze, hollowing his warm brown eyes until his pupils look blown wide. This is the way you always imagined him looking at you, but never thought possible.

“Not much to see,” you reply, a defense mechanism. With a snarl, his lip twitches up over his canines, they glint in the low light of the kitchen, the moonlight coming in from outside.

“How are you so goddamn stubborn?” he huffs out, slipping his hand along your neck, underneath the curtain of your dark curls, his thumb settling over your windpipe. He leans forward, unsettling your lips with his own, just slightly. The bittersweet of the whiskey is still on his lips and, you find out, on his tongue, as he deepens the kiss and pulls you close.

But he’s right. You’re stubborn. You’re so stubborn, he’s too drunk, and you’re both leaving. Doing this now doesn’t mean a fucking thing. You pull away, cursing yourself. Cursing him for waiting this long. Cursing the universe for making him who he is and you who you are.

“Wow, you’ve had way too much to drink, Sammy,” you laugh off, playfully pushing him toward the living room, where you knew, by now, Casey and James had crashed on the couch. “I think you’d better sleep it off. I’ll see you in the morning.” Quickly, you escape to your bedroom, where you fully convince yourself that it could’ve been anyone. He would’ve kissed anyone.

You don’t cry, you don’t often give yourself that luxury, but you do let yourself take a mental catalogue of this taste in your mouth. Warm, sharp, aching. And so, so bitter.

----------------

The coffee date and the dinner and the shopping were over far too soon. Work started again the next morning, Casey was back in a town that was too fucking far away, and you were left in your one-bedroom apartment that felt too small and too big all at the same time.

Until your phone vibrated on the bedside table. In the dark, it lit up the whole room. Your cat scurried away from it in a panic from the unexpected noise it brought to the silence. For a moment, you considered just leaving it until morning. It most likely wasn’t work – this wasn’t your on-call weekend anyway. It could’ve been Casey, but she’d gotten home several hours before (which you knew because you always forced her to text when she made it).

Whoever it was could wait. For now, you just wanted to be alone. No, that wasn’t quite right. You wanted to be alone with someone, but there was nobody to be alone with. It was just you and you cat, Mickie, like it was every night, like it had been every night for almost a year.

Despite yourself, you glanced over. It was a Snap. That alone was enough to pique your interest. Casey hardly ever sent an unsolicited Snap (she only kept it because of you, and she only replied to keep up the streak), and there weren’t a lot of people who would send you a Snap at this hour (it was almost two in the morning) on a Sunday night.

Curiosity got the better of you. You unlock your phone and pull down the notifications bar. The Snap is from Sammy. Your thumb hovers over the notification for an embarrassingly long time. By then, it had been weeks since you last talked to Sam.

Against your better judgement, you open the Snap. Immediately, a soft smile rushes over your face, a blush trailing closely behind it. It’s Sam – a selfie of Sam on stage with the neck of his bass in one hand, the phone in the other, and a screaming crowd behind him.

The tagline reads, “Missing you more than you think.”

Goddammit. God fucking dammit. What the shit was he trying to do? You had already convinced yourself to forget about the kiss, to forget about your feelings, to forget about Sammy. He’d made it difficult – he kept in near constant contact with you since undergrad. It was going on five years later, and you still talked to him daily. Sometimes, it was only a text, sometimes it was only a picture, rarely there was a phone call (which were always very awkward because you’re good with words on a screen, but in person, not so much).

Every now and then, only a handful of times over the last five years, you and Sam got to see each other in person. Sometimes it was at a GVF show, sometimes it was with a group of friends. Once, he showed up at your apartment with no warning. That one was rough, but ultimately, nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. It had always never happened.

Finally, you had decided. It was enough. Nothing would ever happen with Sam. Maybe it would make you a bad friend for cutting off contact with him completely, but it was so fucking hard to talk to him every single day and not imagine what things could’ve been like if you hadn’t pushed him away that night. If he hadn’t left, if you hadn’t left. If you started something sooner.

The texts from Sam slowed to a stop, eventually. Until now. It was so frustrating, because you knew, absolutely, without a doubt, even if he remembered the kiss, it was just a kiss. No meaning, no feelings. Just a drunken kiss between two friends. That’s what it was to him.

You consider not replying. You consider removing him from your Snapchat. You even went so far as to consider blocking him. But you couldn’t do that. As hard as it was, you could never stop being in love with Sam. Oh, fuck. That’s what this is. You’re in love with him.

With a deep breath, you hold your phone out, the front-facing camera on, and you flick on the lamp next to your bed. In the low, yellow lamplight, you place your curls just right, tilt your head just right, open your mouth just enough, and snap. No filters, no fillers. Just you.

In the caption, you write: “Sorry for the radio silence. I miss you, too.” Send.

Even though his picture was from stage, you knew the show had long been over. You had an internal clock for what time of night he was usually on stage (most often so you would know when to expect a text or a call), and you faithfully followed the cities in the tour. Well, you used to. The tour he was on now was mostly a mystery ever since you’d cut him out of your life.

It’s mere seconds before you get a Snap back. This one is in real time. No stage, no lights, no fans. Just Sammy. His chocolate brown eyes look up, right into the lens of the camera, leaving you to draw in a sharp, unsteady breath. His hair is longer now, still kissed with sunlight, tossed in front of both broad shoulders. He’s wearing that same denim shirt from the night you kissed five years ago, but the top four buttons are open, showcasing the strong, sharp cords of muscle that run along his throat and meet in the center, just between his collarbones.

It reads: “God, it’s good to see your face.”

Fuck. This Snap was calculated. He sent this with purpose. He had to know what this would incite. Sure, that kiss hadn’t ended to anyone’s satisfaction five years ago, but he had to know, right? He had to know that you didn’t want to stop him that night, right?

Fuck it. Two could play at his game. With your heart beating in your throat, you crane your neck down into your pillow, arranging your curls to look artfully splayed around your temples, and you turn your head away from the camera, the collar of the T-shirt that you had fallen asleep in stretched out to give him a good view of the nape of your neck.

“Yours is still as cute as ever.”

This was a huge risk. In all the time that you’d known Sammy, you had never once admitted to anything. Never admitted that he was cute, never admitted to that kiss, never admitted to your crush. And you just had, accompanied by a slightly uninhibited photo.

His reply is immediate. The photo of him is hardly different, his eyes are a little wider, his brows are raised a little higher, his mouth is hanging slightly ajar. But it’s not the photo that catches your attention. It’s the message attached to it.

“I’m in town. Are you home?”

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. You should have followed their touring schedule more closely, you would’ve been more prepared for this. Fuck. Your mind races through a thousand different scenarios. Is he reading into these Snaps the same way you are? Does he realize what a 2AM visit to a girl at her apartment alone implies? Sammy was always oblivious, but not that oblivious.

You Snap back a blank picture, a black screen of the inside of your palm. You’re losing your nerve a bit, but you still have the guts to reply, making every implication crystal clear.

“Home alone. Want to come over?”

Initially, your realization that you were gray-asexual was kind of a strange awakening, but it made absolute sense to you, once it was explained fully. And it fit. You don’t often experience a need for physical intimacy, not the way most people do. It comes and goes (sometimes at random), and you can usually take care of that rare need yourself and then get on with your life.

Except when it came to Sam. He was always the exception. Random men could express interest in you, in your body, and you remined neutral. There wasn’t that spark with them, with strangers. But that spark grew into a wildfire with Sammy. The more you knew about him, the more you fell in love with him, and the more you wanted from him. With him.

Your phone lights up the room again. You expected another Snap, but it’s a call. From Sammy. You answer without hesitating, anxious to hear what his voice sounds like, whether there’s an ache hiding in his throat, whether he sounds like he wants you like you want him.

“Hi, Sammy,” you say into the receiver. He breaths out.

“Hi,” he replies, all breath. “I’m three minutes away. I was going to wait until I got there, but I felt like I’d forget everything I wanted to say when I got there.”

“Everything you wanted to say?” you repeat carefully, hoping the things that he wanted to say aligned with the things you wanted to hear.

“I don’t know what I did, but I know I must’ve done something to make you stop talking to me. It’s a typical male cliché, I know, but I want you to tell me. I want to fix it.” There’s a whine in his voice that you’ve never heard before and, while you want to make it go away, you also really like the sound that it makes coming up from his throat.

“You didn’t do anything, Sammy,” you sigh into the phone, propping your head up in your head, your elbow buried deep in the pillow. “It was me. I had to stop.”

“If it was because of that kiss, I …” he trails off, as if unsure if he’s supposed to apologize for that night. “No, fuck that, I’m not sorry for that. I will say I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, but I –” You try to interject, unsuccessfully.

“It wasn’t that, I just –”

“I won’t apologize for thinking about that kiss every night for the last 5 years.” You go quiet, listening to Sammy breathe raggedly on the other end. “But I need to know.” He pauses for such a long time that you would’ve thought the call disconnected, if not for the static in the silence and the breaths that filled the dead air. “Did I go too far that night?”

After barely a pause, you answer. “No.” But you can’t convince yourself to say more.

“Then why did you push me away?” That whine resurfaces in his voice and you want to say anything to make it go away, because right now, it sounds a lot like hurt.

“Because I didn’t think I could have you.” A deep breath passes through your lips as you close your eyes. This isn’t really the conversation you wanted to have with him just now.

“Was it because I was leaving? Because we were both leaving,” he tries to explain the frailty in that argument, and he was right. It hadn’t just been him that was leaving you back then.

“Yes, that, but …” Your voice trails off, not wanting to finish that thought. This is the part where everything gets awkward, because these aren’t things you ever wanted to admit to Sammy. You didn’t want to tell him that he was way out of your league, or that he deserved someone better than you, or that you weren’t sure you could always give him what he needed. Because, yes, Sam was your exception, and you wanted him in ways that you wanted nobody else, but it might not always be that way. Sammy deserved someone who wanted to give him everything, always, all of the time. No strings, no exceptions, no restrictions.

“But what?” he insists gently, and you realize you’re going to have to spell it out for him.

“Sammy,” you say, your voice quivering. “I’m not pretty enough for you.” An angry breath comes from Sammy’s end just before the line goes dead. You hold the phone out. Call ended.

An impatient knock at your front door sends panic into your chest and you try to ease your shaking hands, but it’s unsuccessful. As you make your way to the front door, you try to smooth out the curls of your hair, you tug at your T-shirt to cover more of your legs, even though you have a pair of shorts on underneath. Sammy hasn’t ever seen you like this and it’s terrifying.

The moment you unlock the door, Sam doesn’t hesitate. His hands are against your face and he’s pulling you against him, and you let him. God, you let him. His lips eagerly find their way to yours and his tongue follows quickly after, exploring and tasting and moaning.

Jesus, the sounds from his throat are indecent. Obscene. The sounds your mouths make together are explicit. As he crosses the threshold to your apartment, he kicks the door closed behind him and pulls you back with him, letting you press him against the door. At first, you stop yourself from putting all of your weight against him, you ease back, but he’s ten steps ahead of you, and he’s already considered everything that might hold you back.

His fingers bury themselves underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding up around your ribcage and he tightens his grip. Your feet unsteady underneath you and you fall into him. He doesn’t make a sound other than the satisfied hum escaping through your joined lips.

“God, your skin is so fucking soft,” he breaths into your mouth just before he violently pulls the shirt over your head, only to let his lips travel down the expanse of your neck. You tilt your head to let him at whatever skin he wants to put his mouth on.

It turns out, Sammy is keen to put his mouth on every possible inch of your skin. Without letting his mouth part from yours, he walks you back toward your bedroom, and the two of you trip on everything in the path there. With every stumble, Sammy laughs against your lips, both of you working on unfastening the buttons of his denim shirt. Eventually, he sheds it on your bedroom floor, and you let your hands explore the uncharted areas of his bare chest.

His eyes stay locked onto yours as he coaxes you onto the bed, where he kneels with one of your legs in between his. As he leans down to slip his tongue into your mouth again, you feel him pressed hard to your thigh, and he curves his hips up to get more friction.

When his lips move down, kissing along the edges of your black bra, he slips his hands underneath you, unclasping the hooks of that bra. As he starts to pull it away, you hold it to your chest, a bright pink blush blooming in your cheeks. His expression softens as he places his hand over yours, leaning down to place a delicate kiss to your nose.

“I don’t get it,” he says with a soft laugh. His hands, with yours inside it, move up, until he has them pinned above your head. “How do you not see what I see?”

“What do you see?” you ask, a hushed tone that doesn’t sound like your voice floats out.

A smile crosses Sammy’s lips as he pulls away the fabric concealing you, letting his eyes flutter down your bare chest. At the sight of your uncovered skin, he darts his tongue out to wet his lips before pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, his pupils dark and wide. His fingers follow the path that his eyes forge for them and you arch into his touch at your breast.

His eyes glance up to meet yours again. “I see skin that deserves to be kissed until it trembles underneath my lips. Skin that forms a beautiful shape with hills and valleys and stories and songs. Skin that holds the soul of the woman I have been in love with for longer than she would ever believe because she is so stubborn,” he smiles, peppering soft, tender kisses to the skin he so poetically described. “Christ, is she stubborn,” he laughs.

“No more than you,” you pout playfully as he works to remove the rest of your clothes and you’re much less reluctant to let him. When you are laid bare, he sheds his own clothes and you marvel at the sight of him, sun-kissed and naked and absolutely fucking magnificent.

“I meant what I said,” he croons, his voice dropping deep as he circles around to the foot of your bed, his eyes lit with a new fire. “That thing about trembling, you know.” As he climbs onto the bed, he pushes your legs apart, wider and wider, kissing up your inner thigh.

“Sammy,” you caution. In your last relationship, this had never been very successful for you. You were afraid that trend would continue, and Sammy would get frustrated over it.

“Please,” he breathed out, warm and wet against your skin, and just his breath against you made you shiver in anticipation. You nod in agreement, and he spreads you open even further. Almost timidly, he pushes the very tip of his tongue into the open space between your legs, soft and slow and careful, dragging the full breadth and width of his tongue behind.

“Oh,” you breath out indecently, a rattled breath from your lungs, as Sammy’s tongue reached the crux of his ascent. Just like he promised, you tremble underneath him.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, gripping your calf and you can feel him arching his hips into the mattress for a little extra friction. “God, make that sound for me again.” With his tongue widened, he drags it along the entire width of you, dipping inside, curling and uncurling within, fucking you with his tongue. He moves out, circling your entire entrance with his tongue, dripping and scorching, before lazily running over your crux, slowly, slowly, slowly.

You make the sound for him again. And again. And again. Those sounds get louder as his tongue increases in speed, feverishly, furiously lapping at your skin, back and forth, up and down, making tight, wet patterns with his tongue until you’re ready to come apart.

“Fuck,” he mumbles again, into your skin, sending the vibrations of his speech into your very core, and he pushes his tongue in with them, deep down until you can feel his lips pressed to yours. He purses his lips there, kissing you, his tongue still driving inside, and when he moans, it’s like an electric shock to your body.

“Don’t stop,” you call out, your voice feeling thin as your body finds the edge. Agonizingly slowly, he pulls his tongue up again, to the same throbbing, swollen skin, and he sucks at it, swirling his tongue within his lips. As you bury your first into his dark, wavy hair, he lays into a rhythm, daring to press two wet fingers into the depths of you. He pushes in and pulls out, matching the pace of his fingers to the rhythm of his tongue, fucking you hard and fast until your vision goes white, and every muscle tenses, and you call out Sammy’s name into the dark, waves of pleasure coursing through you until you’re throbbing around his fingers.

“Oh my God,” he moans, his breath still hot and sticky against you before he moves up, kissing every inch of skin in his path. “You come so fucking well. You look so good right now.”

When he gets to your mouth, you turn his head, pulling his earlobe into your teeth. “Fuck me, Sammy,” you whisper into his ear and every part of him goes limp against you, save one.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck, yes,” he mutters and moans, and you can feel him hard between your legs. He reaches down, swirling the head of his cock at your entrance for only a moment before pressing in, gently at first until his hips are flush to yours. His hips swell and break viciously, pressing into you with a zealous need over and over, his fingers kneading at the skin at your hip that you used to hate, but you can no longer hate it, for the way that Sammy caresses it.

He whispers into your ear, all the things you ever wanted to hear him say. You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted you for so long. God, I love you. I love you. I love you. And it’s been five years, but it feels like five days, and you’ve never felt this good about anything in your life.

When Sammy comes, his dark brown eyes roll back with his head, his neck craned so tight that you can finger that cord of muscle that meets in the center of his collarbone. The moan pulling up from his throat is like the thrum of a bass string, deep and harmonious and reverberating, and it echoes in your chest until you feel filled up by it, too.

When he comes down, he drags his hand through his hair, hair that is longer than it’s ever been, and it looks so much darker under moonlight. His fingers pull through the tangled mess of his hair and he lets them trail down his chest, down his waist, along his hips. Those fingers find your skin again as he pulls out with an indelicate, satiated moan, and he wraps you up in his arms, kissing the back of your neck. You feel sleep pulling, but you fight vehemently.

His words continue, the words that he had been whispering in your ear when he’d been buried within you, and you try so hard to listen, but your eyelids are so heavy now.

His speech turns to song, singing sweetly and softly, his lips brushing along the shell of your ear until you’re sure you could fall asleep at any moment. “You’re the one I want. You’re the one I need. You’re the one I had. So come on back to me.”

You dream about holding his hand and staying a while.

#greta van fleet #sam kiskza #smut #fluff #a little angsty #fic #request #Come On Back To Me

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