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gretavangroupie · 3 months

Text

Exposure

Word count: 11.3k

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking. Smut: Kissing, Stripping, Photo Exhibitionism, Touching, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Oral M!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Oh! Didn't see you there! Happy February! Welcome to the very first installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy this first story in the set of four. We can't wait to share the rest with you! See you real soon!

You pull your jacket snug against your chest, your camera bag hanging heavy on your shoulder as you make the trek up to the front door of the house. You can hear music coming from the basement already, likely the bands warming up before the show starts. You sneak through the front door, breezing through the mostly empty house in search of the basement. Following the noise, you walk down the stairs and into a small swarm of people all bustling and busy trying to get things set up before the show. How you got roped into shooting a basement show on Valentine's day of all days is beyond you, although it’s not like you have anything better to do.

Your eyes search around for any sign of your friends but you know they’re probably either running late, which is not shocking, or busy unloading their gear outside. You typically never shoot events like this- well, this small, but a favor for your best friend was long overdue. You stand at a small table loading the film into your camera, her one begging request of her set being captured on film, about to be fulfilled. You look around for any other photographers but you see no one, and it’s then that you realize just how small of a gig this really is.

You did your best to blend in tonight, donning the industry standard of black, but realizing now that it almost wouldn’t have mattered what you wore. You kept it simple with a black long sleeve shirt, and a pair of black leather pants, adding a heeled boot to give yourself a little extra height behind the lens.

You grab an extra roll of film and shove it into your pants pocket before placing your camera bag beneath the stage for safe keeping. People are quickly starting to fill the small basement, and you’re thankful for this weeks’ cold snap, knowing that this basement would be sweltering otherwise. You pull your phone from your pocket checking for any signs of life from your friends, laughing as you see a ‘we’re running late’ text. Shaking your head you put your phone back in your pocket and start to check your settings, adjusting to the lowlight of the room.

The basement is fully packed at this point, the first band stepping on to the stage and starting things off with a blaring guitar intro. The lights dim even further, causing you to adjust your settings again, and you wonder if you need to grab your flash attachment. You feel a tap on your shoulder, a rush of nerves in your chest as you spin around to see who it could be.

“Are you shooting film?” A pair of dark brown eyes asks, a look of genuine curiosity painted across the irises.

You smile and hold up your camera, “Yeah, I am! How did you know?”

A smile sweeps across his face, his long dark hair hanging well past his shoulders, but partially obscured under a red beanie. His cheeks are flushed red, either from the cold outside, the alcohol in his system, or the weight of his cable knit sweater. “I’m a bit of a hobbyist. Specifically film. I recognized your camera.”

“You did? This thing is pretty old.” you say, pulling your hair from beneath your camera strap.

“Yeah, I have the same one. Mines the silver version though.” he says, leaning in closely so that you can hear him over the loud music.

You look up at him, and nod, leaning back in towards him as you respond. “Oh really? Does yours have the battery door issue?”

His hand lays softly against your shoulder as he leans in closer, ready to respond but your attention is ripped away as you see your friends in your peripheral.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, my friends just walked in and they are actually supposed to go on next.” you say holding up your camera to show your purpose of being here in the first place.

“You’re fine, go ahead.” he smiles, pulling away from you and taking a sip from his seltzer.

You send him a soft smile, taking a final look at him before turning to meet your friends. As you walk up to meet them you can’t help but to look over to where you were just standing, finding the mystery man gone. You scan the room as your friends talk at you, looking for any sight of him, but you’re snapped back to the present as they are called up to the stage.

With a hug from your best friend and a kiss on the cheek she darts up the small stairs with a smile. “Wish us luck! And make sure you get my good side!”

You make your way towards the front of the stage, checking your settings one more time as the band starts to play. Admittedly, they sound a lot better than they did the last time you saw them perform, and the crowd behind you really seems to be into them. You even notice a few people wearing their merch and wonder when that happened. Had you really been that absent?

You duck down as you work your way across the front of the stage, snapping photos of your friends as they play their hearts out. You quietly apologize to the people you block with your camera, taking a quick glance behind you with each step you take. About two songs into their set you’ve made your way to the opposite side of the stage, looking behind you only to catch a glance of your mystery guy, standing against the wall with his drink.

You try to pretend you didn’t see him, but it’s no use as you trip over an electrical cord and make a complete spectacle of yourself in the process. However, when you don't collide with the concrete of the basement floor and instead are met with a pair of warm steady hands, you feel a sigh of relief hoping that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t see you trip after all. Turning to face your hero, you’re met with none other than your hobbyist.

A grin spreads across his face as he helps you to stand, one hand in his, and the other firmly planted on your camera.

“Falling for me so soon? At least tell me your name first…” he jokes, letting go of you as you steady yourself on your feet.

“Y/N…And thanks, I– guess they ran out of Gaff tape and I found the only cord not taped down.” you laugh.

He smiles and shakes his head in faux disgust, “Rule number one, always carry an extra roll in your gig box for the ladies. I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Well, Sam, thank you for not letting me fall in front of all of these people.” you laugh.

“Oh, I was actually saving the camera… Precious vintage...” he winks, pursing his lips together.

“Oh, of course. Yeah.” you stammer, suddenly feeling ridiculous.

As if he can sense your distress he places a hand on your arm, “Wait no, I was kidding. Of course I was saving you. Let me– Can I get you a drink?” he asks, trying for a peace offering.

“I think I’m kinda out of hands…” you laugh, snapping a photo as you focus through the viewfinder.

“I’m not…” he counters, “Whad’ya want? I’ll grab it for you…”

You lick over your lips, deciding maybe a drink assistant wouldn’t be too bad. You turn over your shoulder as he leans close letting you talk into his ear. “A seltzer, I don’t care what flavor, surprise me.”

He gives you an understanding nod and turns on his heels, disappearing into the crowd.

You watch your friends start to close up their set and you compose another set of photos you think will be the shots of the night.

“A drink for the lady…” he says, as he holds a drink up in front of the lens. You lower your camera and spin around to grab it from him, watching him crack the lid open before he hands it to you.

“Prickly pear, huh…” you pause, taking a sip of the fizzy drink. “Did you know that was my favorite or just a lucky guess?”

“Well, I figured… you have great taste in cameras…” he trails off, taking the drink back from you so you can continue to shoot.

You feel him lean into your shoulder, his warm breath on your neck. “The red light really does nothing for photos, does it…” he laughs.

“No, and I’m half convinced that’s why they do it.” you retort.

“Oh, it definitely is. Trust me. That and it looks badass.” he laughs, stepping back again.

As the set ends you watch your friends leave the stage, ready to drink and party with the rest of you. The room quiets to a dull roar as the next band starts to take the stage, ready to set up their equipment. You lower your camera around your neck, letting it hang freely as you turn back to Sam.

“You get the shot?” he asks, sipping the same Prickly Pear Topo Chico.

“I think so, looks like I’ve got…” you pause, checking your dial. “Two left on this roll. Should probably change over before the next act. Here, smile.” you say, holding the viewfinder to your eye.

He blushes a little, holding both of the drinks in his hands and giving you wide open mouth smile.

You capture those last two images and hear the winder start to spin. “That’ll do it!” you say, dropping your camera around your neck and pulling the extra black film cartridge from your pocket.

“Oh here, let me help you. You have your drink…” he offers, holding out your can.

“No! You don’t have to do that, it’s totally fine, I’ve got it. Just need to find a table or something so I can–”

“I know I don’t have to, I just– want to. I wanna help.” he says, his eyes sweet and genuine.

You think about it for a second, and consider that you really don’t have anything to lose. He wouldn’t be offering if he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Okay, sure, I’ll hold your drink now.” you smile.

His eyes are focused as he works to remove the used film, replacing it with the new roll as quickly and efficiently as he can, making sure not to expose the roll. He clips the door shut and makes sure it's secure before placing the camera strap back over your head, pulling your hair out from beneath the straps as gently as possible.

“There. Perfect.” he says, a warm smile on his lips.

“Thanks Sam.” you answer, offering his drink back to him.

“You can call me Sammy. All my friends do.” he says, accepting the wet can.

“Oh, are we friends now?” you ask playfully, all the while thinking that you might want to be a little more than that.

“I’d like to think so. Or– I hope so. I think you’re cute, film camera girl.”

“Do you?” you murmur, holding the can to your lips.

As if feeling a little shy, he ducks his head a little and licks his lips, “I do.”

Before you can reciprocate his sentiment the third band starts, and somehow they are even louder than your friend's band previously. The drums are blaring loud and you can tell they need their mics turned down about three notches. You take a few photos, figuring you can never have too much in your portfolio, but after a few shots and the crowd becoming a little too rowdy, you quickly decide you are done ‘working’ for the night. You lower your camera down and spin to talk to Sam, but you find he’s gone.

Your eyes scan the crowd for him, but again, you see no trace of the cream colored sweater or his red beanie in the sea of people. You do, however, spot your best friend off in the corner of the room being hit on by someone you know to be exactly her type. You lock eyes with her, raising a brow and she just smiles at you as she continues to talk to the tall dark haired man.

Letting her have her time with him, you make your way back to the stage to grab your camera bag. You head up the stairs, grabbing a new drink from the bar area and again searching for any signs of him. You mingle with a few strangers, making pointless small talk about work and the latest gossip before excusing yourself to the bathroom to pee. As you wash your hands you sigh at the missed connection with such a thoughtful and good looking guy, but chalk it up to being Valentine’s Day and not wanting to fall into that stereotype.

With your new friend gone, you decide to seek out some of your old ones. With your gear bag slung over your shoulder, you head towards the thick crowd in the main living room. As you make your way through, your neck cranes around the bodies in your way, searching for a familiar face. Looking out the back window, you see your friends near their band’s van. You push open the squeaky screen door and are greeted with a harsh gust of freezing cold wind. You retract, and before you can regain your senses, you hear someone calling your name from a little ways away.

When you get your eyes open, Sam is standing against the side of the house, exhaling a puff of smoke. He’s giving you a sweet, closed lipped smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. You feel a few butterflies in your stomach as you take in his sweet face, relieved that he’s happy to see you hasn’t disappeared like you thought. You approach him with a sweet smile, holding on to your bag strap with both hands while your main camera hangs around your neck.

“It’s cold as fuck out here.” You say honestly, suppressing a grin. He nods, taking another inhale off the cigarette between his fingers, his smile making it a little difficult. “I thought you left.” you add while he exhales the smoke away from your face.

“What, without you?” He says with a quirked brow and a playful smolder. You laugh, stunned silent by his charisma. He realizes and laughs it off, reaching towards you. “You need a hand taking that stuff to your car?” He asks, dropping his cigarette onto the lawn and stepping on it. He offers you a hand and you willingly offer up your bag, even though you really don’t need to.

“I didn’t really feel the need to get any more photos of the third band. I didn’t think the headache was worth it.” You say, a little tongue in cheek as you walk. Sam laughs loudly once, like it slipped out, then shakes his head looking at the ground in front of him.

“I was trying not to be too judgmental but, yeesh. They’re really something, aren’t they?” You laugh and pop open your trunk and he sees inside as he puts your bag in.

“You have a Pentax too?” He asks, seeing the other bag you left in the trunk.

“I do. I have a couple lenses for it, I use it when I shoot… bigger stuff.” You say, not trying to sound braggy.

“That sucker is heavy though. You must be jacked if you’re holding it up for an entire show.” He jokes, reaching for your bicep and squeezing twice. You flex a little, giving him a wink before you break character and laugh with him. You pull your camera from around your neck and slip it into its case.

“No but, I uh, I have a couple lenses too. I have a pretty big collection… It’s actually getting a bit out of hand at this point. If you ever want to borrow anything...” He mentons, helping you close the trunk. When he reaches up, his sweater rides up a bit and reveals that he’s got a white shoestring laced through the loops of his pants like a belt.

“I’d love to check it out,” you say honestly, rubbing your arms to try and warm up. The wind is brutal but the conversation is worth freezing for.

“This may be a bit forward… but the weather sucks, this music sucks… We could go have a drink at my place and I could show you?” He offers, shrugging a little bit.

“Well…” you start, looking over at the van on the other side of the yard. Your friend seems to be deep in conversation with the guy who was helping her load up, so you’re sure she won’t miss you if you slip away. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

“Two things, though. One, we have to take your car, since my friend was my ride. Two, I’m driving, because you’ve had a few.” He says, giving you a boyish smile and holding out his hands so you can put the keys in them. You eye him with playful suspicion for a moment, but then figure you’ve got nothing to lose.

“Fine.” You flick open your car key and offer it to him between two fingers with a grin.

As he gets in, you can’t help but micromanage his actions with your car as you buckle your seatbelt. “The emergency brake is down by your left foot, and just ignore the light on the dash.”

“I guess I should have told you that I have, indeed, driven a car before. I’m qualified.” He says, starting it and adjusting the mirrors. He’s a good bit taller than you, so he cranks the rearview upwards quite a bit. You roll your eyes at his comment, letting the radio play quietly rather than anything from your phone for fear of judgment.

“There aren’t any street lights on these back roads. You should put the high beams on.” You comment, looking over at him for a moment, taking in his side profile. He cracks a wry smirk and flourishes his hand, turning them on.

“You’re kinda bossy, aren’t you?” He asks, not looking away from the road. You snicker softly.

“When I want to be.”

Before he can say anything in response, his phone starts to buzz in the center console. He reaches for it, swiping quickly across the screen to answer the call from a contact named Danny.

“Daniel!” He shouts, putting the phone on speaker. Without hesitation, you take it from him so he can use both of his hands and drive. He doesn’t object as the voice from the other end of the phone pipes up.

“Where’d you get off to?”

“Uh, I left. Are you good to get home?” Sam answers, flipping the brights off when a car drives by on the opposite side of the road. He puts them back on once the coast is clear.

“I’m fine, yeah, just checking in. Didn’t know you left. You bag that chick you were chatting with?”

You huff a laugh and look over to Sam shaking your head. Is this really how guys talk on the phone?

“Daniel, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell…” he jokes, sending you a wink.

“Right, are you going to that event tomorrow?”

“I had forgotten about it until this very second, but yeah. I said I would. Are you?” Sam says, and you pick up a bit of an accent. There’s a long A in forgotten where the second O should go. You smile softly as you watch the road and listen to them talk.

“Hell no. Neither is Jake. You’re stuck with Josh and his girl. So, have fun with that.” Daniel says, and you can hear him getting into his car on the other end of the line.

“Fuck. Alright, get home safe.” Sam says, sighing. They end the call and you’re more than tempted to ask him the meaning of all that, but he’s pulling into his driveway and the nerves start to take over, shutting you up. “Sorry about that,” he says, parking your car in his driveway next to his own.

“Do you live by yourself?” You ask, getting out of the passenger seat. The wind is still strong and it chills you to the bone. Sam sees and picks up his pace as he leads you to the front door.

“Yeah, it’s just me.” he says, looking over his shoulder as he puts his key in the door. It’s warmly lit inside his house once he steps inside and flips on the lights. There’s an array of musical instruments scattered about as soon as you enter, amps and drums and guitars either hanging on the wall or resting against each other. You raise your brows, looking over at him.

“You’re a musician, too?” You ask as he puts your keys on the cabinet near the front door. There are sliding doors across the front that are opened just slightly to reveal a substantial vinyl collection.

“I have many hobbies.”

You smile as you follow him through the house, looking around at the art covering his walls. It smells like incense and it’s warm- a little warmer than you would keep your house, but it’s cozy.

“I keep everything in here,” he starts, flipping on the lightswitch in one of the bedrooms. It’s furnished with a daybed, like a guest bedroom, but the opposite wall has a desk and shelving full of cameras, cases, lenses, accessories, attachments galore. You raise your brows, surprised, but mostly impressed.

It’s a solid half hour that you spend going item by item, gently looking over everything he’s collected, from vintage to like-new, functioning and under repair. He makes a point to tell you where he got each one, the quirks and intricacies of them all.

“That one’s really my favorite for portraits,” he says as you look over a lightweight film camera with a noisy lens, clicks filling the room. “She’s got a way about her that makes everyone look good, you know?” You nod, looking it over, peeking through the viewfinder.

“I dunno, I might be a lost cause.” You say, a little self deprecating. He sucks his teeth at you in playful disappointment.

“I just mean that, you know, as photographers, there aren’t many photos of us. I don’t think I’d know how to pose myself for a portrait.”

“Well, you don’t pose yourself, silly.” He says, looking up at you, not lifting his head and moving only his eyes. There’s a little smirk on his lips. “We should try it.”

You give him a suspicious look, laughing nervously.

“I look like a mess from the wind and… I’m hardly wearing any makeup..” You say, starting to rattle off excuses as your cheeks heat up.

“So? You look perfect. I don’t want to take… fuckin’ headshots. I want to capture you. This version of you, the pretty photographer that I’ve spent my evening with.”

The two of you lock eyes for a moment, his honeyed irises so warm and kind and sweet that you probably can’t say no to him if your life depended on it.

“Okay.”

That’s how you end up in his sunroom, sitting patiently on his couch as he gets set up, sipping a glass of wine. The room is full of plants and you brush your hand against the burnt orange velvet upholstery of his couch underneath you. You watch him move around the room, pushing the ottoman out of the way, adjusting the throw pillows on the opposite end. He reaches behind his head and pulls his thick sweater off, his shirt riding up to show that little shoestring belt and this time, a light dusting of hair above the waistband of his pants. He tosses aside the sweater, leaving him in a white t-shirt. You swallow a gulp of your wine, feeling a little warm.

“I like how you said, ‘as photographers,’ like you looped me in there with you,” he muses. “You’re a professional. I don’t belong in the ranks with you.” He says, grinning as he uses an app on his phone to mess with the lighting from the lamp in the room. It’s a hazy, warm light when he’s done, absolutely flattering to the eye, so you can only imagine how it’s going to look when he captures you.

“If you take pictures, and you enjoy it, you’re a photographer. I don’t think it’s fair to gate keep art of any kind, or… something that brings people joy, you know?” You say, watching as he grabs a cream colored, cable knit throw reminiscent of his sweater and drapes it behind you.

“That makes sense. Not all photographers are as humble as you, though.” He says, looking down at the camera and making some adjustments. He holds it up and looks at you, then he pulls it away. He looks again, then he hums like he’s thinking about something.

“This black shirt is kind of one-dimensional. I feel like it’s swallowing you up, you know? I feel like there's too much contrast with the colors in the room.”

You sip your wine and think for a moment, looking around. He’s probably right.

“What do you think about green?” you ask, leaning forward, placing the wine glass on the table in front of you.

“Do you have another– oh…” he starts, but is effectively silenced when you start to pull your shirt over your head. Underneath, you’re in a sage green longline bralette, the band of lace under your chest covering a good two inches of your waist. It’s not too revealing and from the shoulders up, it probably looks like a shirt. You shake out your hair and look up at him, tossing your shirt aside.

“Does that look better?” You ask, smirking at his reaction, pretending to be all business. He looks at you through the viewfinder and you hear him clear his throat.

“Much better. Yep. Uh huh.” he says, hiding his face behind the camera, but you know he’s looking at you. “Sit up for me?”

You adjust the way you’re sitting, sitting up straighter. He lets the camera hang around his neck as he approaches you, reaching out to gently position you. He puts your hand in your lap, then gently pushes some hair behind your shoulder. The other side, he wraps around his finger once, making sure it lays in a flattering way. He looks at you, not scrutinizing you, but deciding what he wants to do with you. His touch makes you feel like you’re on fire, his hands warm and so gentle, his motions purposeful and confident despite the delicate way he handles you.

He crouches down in front of you, holding the camera to his eye, and you feel a wave of panic wash over you. You suddenly feel exposed in front of the lens, and it must be evident on your face as he moves his finger from the shutter release and lowers the camera from his eye. “You feel nervous.” he states with the nod of his head.

You shrug ever so slightly, finally feeling the nerves your clients tend to feel. You try to shake it off, but Sam, ever perceptive, pulls the camera from around his neck and sits it next to you on the couch. He pulls his own shirt over his head, leaving him in the same state of undress as you are. “There. Even?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

You smile and nod, doing your best not to stare at the small smattering of a happy trail at the top of his pants. You bite your lips together before looking back into the lens, hearing the shutter click and the film wind. He brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face to the side with the gentle touch of his index finger. He pulls it back quickly, returning to the shutter button and snapping another photo. He hums from his place behind the lens, standing quickly and scanning the room for something.

His heavy footfall pads across the room, snatching something from his piano bench before returning to his place on the floor in front of you. In his hands is a multicolored jewel tone pashmina, soft and worn, and clearly a staple in his wardrobe.

“Can we try this?” he asks, holding it up against your skin.

“Let me see…” you answer, grabbing it and draping it over your chest. With your torso completely covered you reach beneath it, pulling the green bralette over your head as he watches you with wide eyes. You toss it to the floor next to him, and reposition the fabric to just cover your chest as you lean back into the couch.

He swallows nervously as he stretches up towards the couch, adjusting the fabric how he sees fit. Your stomach shows beneath the edge of colorful fabric, the curve of your breast just peeking from the top.

“I– I think this is gonna be a good shot.” he says, looking at you through the lens. “Lean your head back a little more, and turn it to the side, just a touch.”

You follow his instruction, knowing the angles of this shot have to be incredible from his place on the floor.

“Perfect, I just…Didn’t want any shadows on your throat…” he whispers from behind the camera. You hear the shutter click, and a murmur of ‘fuck’ leave his lips.

You stay where you are as he lowers the camera, his breathing picking up a little bit as he tries to remain calm. “Your skin is so…pretty…” he breathes, letting his eyes sweep over you.

Your eyes connect with his, and in an act of insanity you pull away the pashmina, letting it pool at your side. His eyes can’t help but to flick down to your chest, his jaw dropping slightly before he notices and looks back up at your eyes.

“We don’t have to–”

“Do you not want to?” you ask, settling back onto the couch.

“No, I very much do.” he answers a little too quickly.

“So go ahead. Capture me.”

He takes a deep breath, holding the camera to his eye and lowering it back down. He grabs your hand and places it gingerly over your chest, letting your fingers rest just over your nipple. He brings the camera back to his eye, and takes the photo. “Fuck you’re gorgeous.”

Your cheeks blush and you hear the shutter click again.

“Sorry, but I think that's the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen.” he says.

You smile and shake your head, letting your hand trail to the button of your pants. You slide the button through the loop and pull the long zipper, until just the smallest glimpse of your thong is visible.

You watch him swallow nervously again, focusing the camera on your hand as it lays across your stomach. As he captures the photo, you watch him try to recenter himself, knowing that he is probably just as turned on by this as you are, if not more.

“Take them off…” you suggest, watching his eyes flick up to yours.

“You sure?” he asks again, making sure you’re still comfortable.

“Very. If you are, I mean.”

“Lay across the couch. On your stomach.” he instructs, moving himself to sit on the edge of the chaise to your left. You position yourself against the plush couch, propping yourself up on your elbows, as you look back at him sitting behind you.

“Yeah, just like that. Stay there. Look at me, beautiful.” he says, growing more confident.

He leans forward, swiping your hair over your shoulder, giving him an unobstructed view of the curve of your back. And just as your eyes connect with the lens, he presses the button.

“Perfect.” he breathes, lowering the camera again. He stands from his place behind you, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, pulling them gently down your hips until they rest at the apex of your ass. Your thong is fully visible now, only the floral lace resting against your hips.

He moves back and you feel the couch dip as he kneels behind you, straightening the seam of the pants to rest perfectly in the center, his fingers brushing against your bare skin. You feel the goosebumps rise, and you hear the shutter, smiling as you know he’s caught the moment.

“Are you always this responsive to touch…” he asks, sliding your pants further down over your ass, pulling each leg free until the leather fabric is in a pile on the floor.

“No. Only when it’s really good…” you answer.

“Lift your hips up for me, rest on your knees a little, and arch your back.” he says, kneeling on the edge of the couch. His hand slides down your back to assist you, and slides back up, stopping at the hem of your panties. Two fingers hook into the fabric, pulling it down just slightly as you hear the camera shutter.

You can feel your arousal between your legs, not too far from where his fingers linger, but he releases your panties, sliding them back into place and letting his hand drift over the curve of your ass. He stands up in front of you, and you drop back down, stretching fully across the couch. You lay your head on your hands as you look up at him, watching him crouch down in front of you. He pulls a few pieces of hair over your shoulder, and moves your arm further up to reveal the swell of your breast as it presses against his couch cushion.

“Pop your hips up just a touch...” he breathes, holding the camera to his eye. “Look at me, baby.”

You bat your eyes as you look at him, seeing the photo in the reflection of the lens as he takes it.

His chest is heaving as he pulls the camera away, crawling towards you on his knees as he dusts his fingers over your spine. “You make an incredible muse…”

“A good photographer knows that seeing isn’t enough. You have to feel it.” you answer, melting into the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I think I feel it too much…”

He slides his hand down your arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you back to a sitting position. He reaches for your wine glass, turning back to you and placing it into your hand. You bring it to your lips, but as you tip the glass a stream of red wine trickles down the stem, dripping rapidly onto your stomach.

His eyes flick to yours, then down to the small streak of red against your skin, leaning his head forward and letting his warm tongue lap at the spilled alcohol.

Your eyes close on their own, a breath leaving your lips at the feeling of his lips on your body. He pulls back from you, waiting for your eyes to open, and as they meet you can see he’s asking for permission to continue.

You open your legs allowing him to move closer, and he takes that as his consent to move between them. He pulls the camera from around his neck, placing it gently on the couch next to you, before grabbing your wine glass and placing it on the coffee table behind him.

His hands slide up your thighs, his eyes examining every inch of your skin until he meets the edge of your panties. His eyes meet yours and you nod, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on your skin again.

He hooks his fingers through the fabric and pulls them over your hips, tossing them to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He takes in a deep breath, lowering his face to your heat, but never breaking the eye contact he has with you. You let a hand slide through his silky waves, silently telling him you wanted this, and he obliges, pressing a kiss to your groin.

You feel his tongue swipe up through your center, long and slow, hot and soft against you. You fist his hair at the contact, a hum leaving his lips as they vibrate against your clit. Your legs open wider, allowing him to hook his arms beneath your legs, pulling you down the couch to meet his mouth. His tongue works at your clit, flicking back and forth as wet sounds fill the air in the room. His cheeks are flushed as his wet lips suction around you, his brown eyes fluttering closed with every pointed lick.

You can hardly tear your gaze away from him, your chest heaving as he brings you closer and closer to your release. Your hand reaches out to grip into the cushion, instead landing on the body of the camera next to you. It feels cold against your hand, and as you look at him you realize you might feel it a little too much, too.

Grasping it in your hand you pull the viewfinder to your eye, positioning him in the frame as he continues to work you towards your orgasm. As his eyes flick up to you, he's met with the camera lens, hesitating momentarily before pulling an elastic from his wrist. He doesn’t cease his actions as he pulls his hair into a messy bun, resting low on the back of his neck. He places his soft hands on the insides of your thighs, looking up into the lens with his blissed out eyes, ready for you to capture the scene below you.

Hearing the shutter, he grips into you harder, sucking your clit into his mouth with more force, desperate to get you there. His fingers brush your entrance, and with a carefully timed swipe of his tongue he presses them forward until his thumb replaces his tongue applying pressure to your clit. His fingers work inside of you until your legs start to shake with desperation. He replaces his thumb with his lips once more, the warm, wet sensation inching you closer and closer.

You take a few more shots, hoping to capture the way his dark lashes kiss his cheeks, and the way his nose brushes against you so delicately. Knowing the most vulnerable shots are usually the best.

He ruts his hips into the couch, desperate for some relief and the groan that leaves his chest is all it takes to push you to the edge. You drop the camera to your side, pulling his face to your body as your orgasm rocks through you. A pathetic sounding whine leaves your lips as his mouth slows, he pulls his fingers from you as gently as possible.

You’re left a panting mess as you ride the waves of your high, but as you open your eyes and see him licking his fingers, you reach for the camera once more, capturing the act forever on film.

He stands, offering you his hand with a smirk. You can’t help but to notice that his fingers are still pruny and soft as you place your hand in his, letting him pull your shaky body from his couch. He bends over and snatches the camera from the couch cushion before pulling you down the hallway towards his bedroom.

As you step over the threshold into his bedroom, you’re met with the dark walls and rich earth toned bedding. He drops your hand, and checks his film, before setting the camera on the edge of his bed. He grabs your hand again, and pulls you into him, snaking his other hand around your waist and pulling you close to his body. His eyes search yours before his lips crash to yours, a heady mix of cigarettes, red wine, and you.

Your tongue tangles with his as his hands grip into your hips, his hardness pressing against your bare stomach. You pull away, locking your eyes on his as you fall to your knees in front of him. You slide your hands up his thighs until you reach the thin white shoelace at his waist, pulling the tip until it unknots itself and slides to the floor. You feel him reach for the camera, letting it hang around his neck once more as he watches you.

You unbutton his pants, feeling the brush of his length against your hand. You work quickly to pull the pants and boxers to the floor, letting him step out of them as you take in the sight of him bare in front of you. You lean forward to kiss at the smattering of hair at his happy trail but you’re quickly stopped before your lips ever make it there.

He grabs your chin in his hand, placing his thumb over your swollen pink lips, pulling the plump flesh down to expose your bottom teeth as the camera snaps the image above you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can think of nothing but the feeling of your mouth around him.

Unable to wait any longer you grab him in your fist, stroking him a few times back and forth as his eyes study your movements. You wet your lips in preparation for him, letting your tongue dart out to lick a hot stripe up the underside of his cock.

He pulls the camera to his eye again, “Stay like that. Just like that baby. Look up at me.”

He rests the tip of his cock in your open mouth, snapping a few shots as he leaks onto your tongue, before tossing the camera to the bed. “Fuck, are you sure you’ve never done this before? You look so fucking gorgeous.”

You smile around him, closing your lips and humming in response. You let your tongue slide up his length, taking him as far back as you can the first few times before working into a steady rhythm. Your eyes are locked on his, a look of awe and desperation written into his features.

His hand finds grip in your hair, moving with you as you work him, gentle whines falling from his lips as you swirl over his tip with each upward stroke.

Swallowing around him he sucks in a harsh breath, letting you slide back up before repeating the action. You tense around him as you gag, your eyes blinking away tears wanting to continue. Your eyes roll back as you taste the saltiness on your tongue knowing he is nearing his release.

He pulls away from you, cupping your face in his big warm hands, his thumbs swiping away errant tears.

“I– You’re– Get on the bed for me, sweetness. Wanna ruin that pretty cunt before I cum.”

You look up at him, swallowing thickly, a little shocked by the side of himself he just showed you. You take his hand with a grin as he offers it to you, standing and hopping up onto his bed, laying yourself back on his pillows. He follows you, leaning over to reach for the camera on the nightstand before doing so. He leaves it on the pillow next to your head, focusing all of his attention on you for the time being.

He’s tender for a moment, leaning down to kiss you briefly before he situates himself between your thighs. He kneels above you, looking down at the sight before him. He traces a gentle line down your sternum, then back up, dragging lightly against the expanse of your clavicle, then back down once more. His eyes seem to roam over every inch of you while you wait patiently for things to advance.

“You…” he starts, a breathy laugh leaving his throat, like he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. “So gorgeous.”

“You’re sweet.” you respond, parting your thighs a bit more for him. He hasn’t stopped his feather light touches just yet though.

“Is that how you like it?” he asks, catching you a little off guard. Your eyes flick up to his and you can’t help the way you squirm a little at his directness.

“I…” you start, but he promptly silences you with a pinch to your nipple, pulling a wanton moan from the depths of your chest.

“Ahh. There she is.” He says, smiling. He lets go and leans down to give it a kiss. “Just trying to get a read on you.”

He palms your breast as he pushes back up, unable to take his eyes off of you. You watch the wheels turning in his head as he squeezes firmly, his eyes cutting to the camera next to your head.

He picks it back up, adjusting it with lightning speed. He looks through the viewfinder once before reaching for your tit again, your nipple slipping between his long fingers. He snaps a photo, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in concentration while the aperture adjusts, the settings on auto now to save time.

“That artistic part of your brain just doesn’t turn off, huh?” you ask, reaching up to run a hand down his stomach, your patience running out.

“Blessing and a curse.” he mumbles, reaching forward into his nightstand. As he’s leaning over you, you can’t help but take a moment to place a few wet, searing kisses to his jaw and throat. You know they’re appreciated when he bucks his hips against you, his dick dragging against the inside of your thigh.

He sits back up, tearing the foil of the condom with little difficulty and flipping it over once or twice to check which way is right. He eventually distinguishes top from bottom and starts to slide it on, looking down in concentration.

After he’s done, he leans down towards you, placing hungry, wet kisses wherever he can find purchase. He reaches between your bodies, taking himself in his palm and brushing the head of his cock through your folds.

“Wait…” you say, and he rests his head on your chest for a moment, looking up at you with patient eyes.

“Yes, sweetness?” he says, pulling back, unsure if you’re about to call the whole thing off. You take a deep breath, reaching down to touch him gently.

“Can we take this off?” You murmur, your hand waiting to pull it off the moment he gives you the green light.

“God, yeah,” he says enthusiastically, a little chuckle leaving him as you haphazardly pull the condom off of him and toss it by the wayside. “Absolutely. Fuck. I want to…” He trails off, like he’s about to say something else, but once you slip the tip of him inside of you, he can’t get a word out.

He pushes in about halfway, stopping to settle and watch your reaction. You gaze up at him, reaching up to play with one of your nipples. He takes in a sharp breath at the sight before pulling out a little before he pushes all the way in, slowly.

“Oh… oh my god,” you manage to get out, unable to help the way the words scratch their way out of your throat. Sam’s eyes are glued to your center, watching himself enter you.

“Everything about you…” he says, taking a trembling breath, “...is fucking picture perfect.”

You smile at the compliment and watch his face for a moment, the way his dark lashes move quickly with his blinking eyes trying to process everything at once. He starts to move slowly, the drag of him making your breath hitch.

He fucks into you slowly, deeply, your head swimming at the sensation. It’s good, but it’s not quite enough, and you can’t help but speak up.

“Sammy…” you begin, calling him by his nickname, like he asked, affectionately. “Harder. Please.”

He snaps his hips into you in response, giving you a dirty smirk from above.

“You’re a backseat driver in the sack, too?” he quips, moving back on his heels a little to change the angle and give himself more range of motion.

“Shut up and fuck me. How’s that?” you bite, grinning up at him. Before you can even prepare yourself, he snatches your wrists, pinning them above your head in just one of his big hands, your slender wrists slotted between his lengthy fingers.

He looks like he’s about to snap back at you, but then his eyes narrow a little. He reaches for the camera again, holding it against the side of his body to flip the switch and open the aperture. He lifts it to his eye and snaps a picture of his hand pinning your wrists together, the strap of the camera falling a little bit into the frame.

Once he’s done, he drops the camera again and braces himself with his free hand, picking up an almost brutal pace. You can’t complain, because it’s what you asked for, and god did he deliver. The sound of skin on skin, his body meeting yours, rhythmically bounces off the walls of his bedroom. You cry out at the feeling of him, reeling at the sensation of him so deep inside you. Warmth starts to build in your stomach, your head getting dizzy.

“Are you getting close?” he asks in your ear, slightly breathless. You whine in the affirmative, spreading your legs further as if you need him even deeper. He lets go of your hands, sitting up a little straighter but still thrusting into you hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. Your eyes start to flutter closed, your back arching, and you feel his hips stutter slightly as he moves a bit on top of you.

There’s some clicking and you know what he’s about to do, but you can’t be bothered to change a single thing about what you’re doing. You reach for your chest, holding your tits steady as he pushes you towards the edge, waiting for the moment.

“Gonna cum…” you warn, your brows knitting together.

“Come on, beautiful. I’m ready.” he coos as it hits you, your lips parting, your head tilting back as you gasp for breath. You don’t register when the shutter sounds, but you feel the camera hit the pillow again and Sam’s got both of his hands on your waist, so you know he must have gotten the shot.

He slows his pace, allowing you to catch your breath and come back down to earth. His hand slides up to your throat, running his thumb over your lips in the same manner he did earlier, but this time instead of letting him tug at your lip you suck his thumb into your mouth.

“Fuck…” he curses under his breath, pulling his hand back and slowly pulling out of you. “Turn over for me.”

You blink up at him, a little bashful, your eyes darting to the camera, then back to his. You try to suppress a grin and give him a little shake of your head.

“Do you trust me?”

Feeling a little giddy, you roll over, pulling your hair over your shoulder before propping yourself up on your knees. You keep your face in his pillow, your eyes watching the camera laying near you as he presses inside you, the position allowing him somehow deeper.

His hands find your hips and as he starts to move, the grip tightens, pulling little hiss from between your teeth. You’re glad he doesn’t hear because you’d hate it if he stopped.

“Gotta be careful…” he mumbles, his voice strained. “Feels a little too good.”

You hum, a little laugh leaving you. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met, and definitely different from anyone you’ve ever slept with. His playfulness mixed with the dominance that peeks out on occasion is a potent combination you can’t seem to get enough of.

He uses his grip on your hips to pull you back into him, his pace slower, but the feeling of him nudging at your cervix with every stroke makes up for the change in speed. He rubs a hand over the curve of your ass as he slows down and releases his grip.

“Goddamn, that’s beautiful.”

The camera disappears and you push up on your forearms, suddenly shy and nervous and feeling like a shot of that isn’t quite as artistic as the rest of your photos. You look at him over your shoulder, a little suspicious.

“No, no no. Your back, your hair on the pillow,” he reassures you, a warm hand on your back. You giggle a little, laying back down. He splays your hair across the pillow, then taps your arm. “Move this up under you.” You do as he says, one arm and hand under you, the other hand above you, fisted in the sheets. His hand drags slowly up your back before he speaks again. “Arch a little more. Like you were before. Yeah, perfect.”

Click.

It lands on the bed, then he starts to move again. He groans, a bit louder than he has been, and you know he’s hanging on by a thread.

“Are you… Are you on birth control?” He asks, his voice slightly boyish in this moment. You can’t help but laugh softly.

“What, you don’t want to knock me up on Valentine’s day?” you joke, and he freezes. You wonder if you said the wrong thing for a moment, but then he speaks softly.

“I’m confident you won’t like my answer, sweetness.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means, and when you do, you can’t stop the words that fall from your lips.

“Try me.”

He pushes himself deeper into you, so much so he leans over and braces himself on his palm next to your face. He’s closer now when he speaks, his breath hot on your shoulder.

“I’d love nothing more than to knock you up on Valentine’s day.”

Holy shit.

“So no plans in November, then?” you quip, grinning as the weight of him pushes you into his pillow.

“Mm, nothing too big, just a world tour.” he responds, thrusting a few more times. “Super flexible.” he grits out. You can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm, feeling him start to twitch inside you.

“The answer is yes, by the way. About the birth control.”

“....It’d be cooler if you weren’t, but alright.” he jokes, his voice straining as his hips start to falter. You can hear him breathing through clenched teeth as his grip on you tightens. You tighten around him, arching your back just a touch more and as you drop your head between your arms, you see his hand frantically reaching for the camera one last time.

You can feel the tension in your stomach tightening, his hand sliding up to your shoulder to pull you back to meet him. “There you go, baby. Keep squeezing just like that. I’m right there.” he says, and you can tell by the lilt in his voice he is waiting for you.

You rock back, your bodies slamming together with a lewd smack, the sound itself just enough to tip you over the edge. You feel the rush wash over you as he pulls you in, wrapping his arm around your waist as his hips continue to move. He lets out a small grunt with each forceful spurt inside you, and you feel a wave of euphoria sweep over you as you realize he wasn’t joking after all.

“Fuck…” he whines, pulling out of you. You can hear him adjusting the lens of the camera and you’re so caught up in your own bliss you couldn’t care less that he is documenting his work. You feel him rest his hand on your ass, palming your cheek to the side for a better view as he leaks down the inside of your thigh.

The camera clicks, and just as you start to lower yourself down, you feel his fingers swipe up through the warmth dripping down your leg, stopping you in your tracks. You turn over your shoulder to look at him, his eyes completely fixed on you as he slides his cum covered fingers inside of you.

“Just for good measure, huh beautiful?”

You hear the shutter click a few times, a few indiscernible mumbles of praise from his lips, and finally the thud of the camera as it lands next to you on the sheets. He pulls his fingers from you, tapping your ass softly as an indication that you’re good to relax.

The mattress shifts as Sam gets out of bed, his footsteps heading towards the bathroom. The light shines for a moment accompanied by the sound of running water as you wait patiently. He’s back soon after with a warm, wet washcloth, and he gently parts your thighs to start cleaning the mess he made.

It’s quiet as he tends to you, his breathing slowing down as he does. Once he’s done, he slips into bed behind you, pulling your back to his chest.

“So… what are you gonna do with those pictures?” you ask, the smile on your face audible as you speak.

“Well, get them developed, I guess. But aside from myself and the poor person at the film lab, nobody will ever see them. Cross my heart.”

“And me,” you remind him.

“Yes, yes. And you, sweetness.” Silence hangs over the two of you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Will you stay?” he asks, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. You wrap your arms overtop of his where he’s holding you tight, nodding.

“I don’t think you could force me out of this bed.”

–

You’re woken by the warmth of sunshine on your face. Blinking and trying to remember where you are, you refamiliarize yourself with Sam’s bedroom in the daylight. Your eyes clear and focus on the camera sitting on the nightstand.

Sam is in a deep sleep, snoring softly with his mouth open, a few strands of his hair stuck to his face. You can’t help but smile at the sight before slipping out of bed and quietly sneaking through his house to collect your clothes strewn about.

You peek into his bedroom once you’ve gathered all of your belongings and he’s still out cold, only his feet poking out from beneath the sheets. Your eyes are pulled to the camera again, and then an idea forms. You tiptoe inside and carefully grab it, doing your best to remain quiet.

Needing darkness, you head for the bathroom and wind the film. You duck into his other bedroom on the way and grab an empty film canister. Hoping it’s quiet enough to not wake him, you close the bathroom door behind you and wait a moment before taking the roll out and putting it in the black container.

Once you’re done, you retrieve your keys from the cabinet by the door and grab an old receipt he must have just pulled out of his pockets when he was putting his keys in their usual spot. There’s a pencil on the music stand of the nearby piano, so you snatch it and leave him a little note. You write out your phone number, draw a little heart, and put the camera over the corner so you know he’ll find it. You silently sneak out the door and lock it from the inside behind you.

The drive back to your home proved to be shorter than anticipated, the light of day giving you a better sense of your location. You glanced over to the rolls of film laying in your passenger seat, taking mental stock on how many bottles of developer and Blix you had sitting on your shelf. It was times like these you were grateful for your little makeshift film lab, knowing that Sam said he would probably send these rolls off somewhere, and that some poor guy would have to see every lewd act appear right before his eyes.

You snatched the rolls from your seat and grabbed your camera bags from your trunk before making your way inside to your warm house. Feeling grimey, you ran yourself through a quick shower, eager to see what was waiting for you on these rolls of film.

Stepping into your lab you place the film rolls on the table, grabbing your Patterson canister, your chemicals, and your scissors to start the process. You trim the leads on the film rolls, smiling as you see your roll next to Sam’s. With the leads trimmed, you flip the light switch in your completely blacked out guest room, leaving you in total darkness as you pry the bottoms off of the rolls of film.

You load the long slippery strips of film into the plastic spools, screwing the lid back onto your canister before flipping your lights back on. You grab your chemicals and make your way to the kitchen, running the faucet to heat the water bath. It’s been a while since you’d done this yourself, but the process was ingrained into your memory, and you were careful to not miss a single step. You drop your bottles of Developer and Blix into the water bath, grabbing your thermometer from your junk drawer.

Your phone buzzes on the counter as you wait for the temperature to rise, your heart pounding as you see a new number flash across the screen. You make your way back to your lab, grabbing the canister off the table as your chemicals reach temperature. You carefully pour the developer into the canister, agitating it every few seconds while you read the message on your phone.

Unknown:

9:12am: Off so soon? And with my film? Should have known I’d never see those beauties. 😏

Your timer goes off letting you know it’s time to move on to the next step, so you set your phone down, ready to pour the developer out of the canister. Satisfied with yourself for not making a mess, you pour in the Blix, leaning away from the fumes as they waft through the air. You do your duty, agitating the chemical as directed, waiting the allotted time until it's ready to pour out.

You debate answering him right away, trying to leave just a touch of mystery in the air. You decide that you’ll wait until the film is done, teasing him with a photo for his eyes only.

You rinse your film with water to rid it of the chemicals, knowing there’s only a few more steps until you can see just how talented of a photographer Sam really is. You pour in your stabilizer, letting it sit for a minute, biting your lips together as you suppress the urge to text him back immediately.

With a deep breath you pour out the stabilizer, and unscrew the lid, ready to see if the evidence of your night came out in the wash. With shaky hands you pull the film strips from the spools, seeing 36 clear images appearing on the transparent roll of sepia film. A huff of laughter leaves your chest, seeing the negative image of your body in the tiny rectangles.

You suck your teeth as you hang the rolls of film to dry, knowing that in about an hour or so they will be ready to scan into your computer.

—

It seems like it’s taking longer than usual for the film to dry, at least it feels that way as you check for the hundredth time. An hour and some change later you’re dashing back to your computer with the film, scanning it into Lightroom to start inverting the images.

Your breath is stolen straight from your lungs as you see the first image. Your cheeks flame red at the sight of yourself, spread below Sam. You continue to click through the negatives, completely shocked at how good his composition is. You knew he was a hobbyist, but you start to wonder if maybe he missed his calling. You swallow harshly as you continue to look through them, but then you realize just how beautiful the photos actually are. You almost feel bad that you stole them away from him.

You work through each image, inverting the colors until they appear as they really are. You note the vintage look on the film and check the empty roll for the date. You smile as you read ‘86, knowing he shelled out a good amount of cash for that roll, and he decided to use it on you. The film comes out warm and grainy from the low light, but you feel that it adds to the photos, and you can’t think of a better turnout.

Your eyes catch on one photo, and after inverting the colors your suspicion is answered. The long finger shaped outlines on your hips were forever cemented in time. The memory of his grip burned into your mind. His body is connected to yours, and you can almost remember the feeling of him inside you as you look at the photo. You feel a rush wash over you, and you grab your phone tapping a few buttons on the screen until the camera opens. You bring it to the screen and snap the photo before attaching it to a text.

You

10:47am: *Attachment*

10:47am: I had something… pressing…to tend to. 😉

You snicker at your comment, hoping he will get the joke as you add his contact to your phone. You bite your bottom lip in concentration as you continue to work on the images, fixing the coloring and resizing them to the appropriate proportions.

As you reach the beginning of his roll, you start to see images of daily life, with people you don’t know, but are clearly happy to be having their photo taken by Sam. Bright smiles and warm moments captured by his keen eye.

Sammy

10:53am: Wow, um…

You

10:54am: I think they turned out pretty good, what do you think?

10:54am: *Attachment*

You attach another image of yourself draped across his couch, his pashmina spread across your body, the light hitting your throat exactly how he planned.

Sammy

10:55am: You’re so gorgeous, I don’t even know what else to say if I’m honest. I have to see the rest.

10:56am: Do you…Need help? I normally send my film off to be developed but it would be cool to watch.

As you click to the next image you sit in shock, trying to place the face next to Sam’s on his couch. You drop your phone to the table in front of you, trying to focus. You’re going positively crazy running through faces in your mind until it hits you. You take in the features and realize the man sitting next to Sam is the guy your friend was flirting with all night. Your heart starts to race as you make the connection. Is that the friend he left last night? Did she go home with him?

You blow out a deep breath and finish up the last photo of Sam and another long haired man, drinking foamy beers in what looks to be a foreign country. You smile at the bubbly mustaches on their lips and grab your phone to reply to his message.

You

11:02am: You’re a really great photographer, Sam. These shots are really, really good. All of them.

11:03am: If you really want to see the process you’re more than welcome to, kind of makes you feel like a mad scientist haha. I don’t have much going on at the moment, probably going to work on this next roll if you want to join.

Sammy

11:05am: What are you up to tonight? I have a work event I have to go to, but I’ll probably dip out early, especially if I have a good reason. 😉

You

11:06am: I have to shoot a show tonight, but I’m free after that…

Sammy

11:06am: So…

You

11:07am: Bring your film and a bottle of red. I just might have a few rolls we can use while we wait. 😏

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joshsjipple · 1 month

Text

Better Than Words

DANNY WAGNGER X FEMALE READER

A/N: Long overdue for some Danny love. I’ve been waiting for the right idea to come to mind to write about him, so I hope this does some justice.

Word Count: 3.3k

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. graphic sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), praise kink, degradation, humiliation kink, slapping kink, semi public sex, oral sex (m rec), slight fingering, breeding kink, slight choking kink, cum play, dom (m) sub (f), p in v, rough sex. I think that’s it!

»--•--«

You can’t imagine a better way to spend your day off. Perched on the couch with your favorite book, you sprawl your legs out across the couch. You’ve been looking forward to this moment since Monday, daydreaming about this incredible book your boyfriend–Danny–had bought you for your birthday a few weeks prior. You nurse on a glass of red wine here and there but never let it sway your attention too far from the book, just sipping enough to savor the taste.

You read through the whole afternoon, only stopping to go to the bathroom and make lunch. You have your ankles crossed and your nose in the book when you hear the keys jiggle in the lock. Within seconds, the door opens, briefly stealing your attention.

Danny gives you a warm smile that is quickly replaced by an apologetic frown once he notices he’s interrupted your reading. You grin at him as he maneuvers through the kitchen, emptying his pockets onto the kitchen island like he does every day.

“Hey, you. You’re home early,” you say, returning to your book again.

“Yeah, I texted you an hour ago. Josh and Jake got into a small fight so we called it a day early,” he explains. You hear him rustling through the fridge, pulling out a canned beverage. He cracks it open and you listen to him gulp a few swallows down.

“Daniel,” you whine, eyes fixated on him once more.

He sets his can down and raises his hands in defense. “Sorry, baby. I’ll get out of your hair,”

You watch him strut past you and down the hallway. He disappears into the bedroom first, exiting it with a towel. Then, as promised, he vanishes into the bathroom and leaves you alone. You take another sip of your wine and soak in the sound of water running faintly in the background. It adds to your vision and you cuddle back into your seat.

Thirty minutes later, the water shuts off. Knowing he never covers up after he showers, you tilt your head to the left to get a glimpse of him. He sways from side to side, radiating confidence and strawberry scented shampoo. He sees you out of his peripheral vision and yells, “How’s your book, babe?”

“Great,” you chuckle, watching him leave your line of vision as you bring your wine back to your lips.

For some reason, your mind won’t focus on the book anymore. You’re almost halfway through, and currently in a very chaotic battle between the main character and the enemy, but all you can think about is Danny’s bare ass that’s pacing around your room right now.

After dressing himself, he quietly roams the kitchen once more. He tugs a few grapes into his mouth, barely making any noise. You want to watch him. You wonder what his hair looks like, what shirt he’s wearing, if he’s wearing sweatpants or shorts. Biting your lip, you take a peak.

You stare for a second too long and his eyes flick to yours, victory glossing over them. “See something you like?” he winks.

“Yeah, actually. Toss me a few grapes, will you?” you smirk. He only rolls his eyes and makes his way over to you. You grab a few pieces of fruit from his large bowl, eyes dancing over his tan face. “Just sit down, yeah? We can share.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod, tucking your legs to your chest and patting the seat beside you. “Just keep quiet,”

“Whatever you want,” he falls back against the cushion.

Danny scoots closer to you, grabbing both of your legs and tossing them over his lap. He pats them a few times before setting the bowl on them. He grabs the remote and when you give him a nod, he turns to a channel.

The two of you sit in silence, although he seems to actually be into the movie vs. you having no interest in your book anymore. You scan over his side profile, admiring his long dark eyelashes and his beautifully sculpted nose. His lips are wet from the juice of the grapes and you imagine what they would taste like right now if you sucked one into your mouth.

You’re suddenly aware of his hands on your thighs, stroking small circles into your flesh. You’re wearing your comfiest set of PJs, which also happen to be the skimpiest. The short’s material barely covers your ass when you walk and right now, it’s riding up your thighs, giving Danny more area to work with. His fingers dig deeper into your skin and you can’t help but let out a small whine in pleasure. Danny’s eyes stay focused on the TV. Defeated, you set your book down on the table beside you.

“What are you doing? I thought you wanted to read?” he asks, his tone mocking.

“I’m taking a break,” you roll your eyes, grabbing another grape.

“Fine, but don’t brother me,” he quips, throwing your words from earlier back at your face.

You groan and scoot closer to him, chaining your arms together. “I’m sorry, love.” you kiss his bicep, letting your lips linger longer than necessary. “Let me make it up to you?”

His breathing hitches as you tug at the skin of his neck, yet his eyes never leave the screen. You lick the spot under his ear and his eyes flutter shut briefly. You remove the bowl from his lap, replacing it with your soaked core. Straddling him now, you throw your arms around his neck. He sighs and gives you a look that makes you throb.

“Whatcha doin up there?” he asks, planting his hands on your waist.

“You, hopefully.” you smirk, pulling him into a kiss.

His hands drift from your waist to your ass as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like summer and grapes, making you drag your tongue farther into his mouth. He moans into you, grabbing your ass cheeks with both of his large hands. He pushes the material up, playing with the flesh like putty in his hands. Your hands tangle in his dark locks, tugging and gripping on it just how he likes. His hands drag your body into his waist and you lose all your dignity as you feel him grow against your center.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whimpers, grinding you back into his erection.

You smile as you trail kisses along his neck, nipping at the flesh, sucking the skin into your mouth. He pulls the fabric of your shorts farther up, giving him more area to work with. Shivers shoot down your spine as his finger drags over your clothed entrance.

“Oh, god…” You whine pathetically as if you haven’t gotten laid for months when in reality, it was yesterday.

“You’re so wet, honey. What were you reading over there?” he sneers, kissing your neck.

“I wasn’t reading,” you cry, jaw falling slack.

His hand crashes against your ass, making you jump and grind farther into him. The sting makes you moan, another wave of vibrations coursing through your body.

“So we’re lying now, hm? You were so mean to me earlier because you wanted to read and when I let you, you stopped. Why is that?” He continues sucking on your skin. With his hot mouth on your skin, you’re unable to form a thought quick enough to satisfy him. With another crack of his hand, you yelp and throw your head into the corner of his neck. “Not gonna talk now?”

“Again,” you whine. You should feel pathetic for asking him to slap you again, but you’re so turned on right now you don’t care.

Crack!

“Yeah? You like that?” he whispers into your ear, making goosebumps line your skin. His hands return to your slit, gathering your wetness on his fingers. He pulls them out and uses his other hand to make you sit up. Bringing his hand between both of your faces, your eyes gaze at the soaked digits. Your slick shimmers in the summer light, making you bite your lip. “You see how wet you are, honey?”

You nod, opening your mouth and he slips the two fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, eyes glued to his. He groans as you swirl your tongue across the tips of them, licking up every drop of your own arousal while you drip onto his lap.

“Wanna suck something else?” he asks, and when you nod, he smirks. “Fuck, yeah. Right here. On your knees.”

You obey him, sliding off his lap and sinking to your knees. You welcome the shiver that the hardwood floor below brings. Danny stands and shuffles to the large window covered by white blinds the two of you had picked out when you first moved in. He pulls the string, allowing them to fall open. The sun rays shoot into the living room, blinding you for a second.

“Danny–” you start but he quickly interrupts you.

“Nope. You wanted to be a brat so now you can let everyone see you get treated like one. And you’re gonna take it all, right? No complaints?”

You nod your head, hands tugging at his sweatpants. You tug them down, his hard cock surprising you. “No underwear?” you ask. “It’s almost like this was your plan all along,”

He smirks before grabbing a fistful of hair. “Shut up and suck it.” he demands, voice dripping with sex.

Removing his hands, he lets you take the lead. You lean in and kiss the tip before dragging your tongue around the slit to gather his arousal. Then, you wrap your lips around him, moaning loudly. The vibrations make him twitch and screw his eyes shut. Placing either hands on his thighs, you take him down your throat. You focus on your breathing as he reaches the hilt, a loud whimper rewarding you for your work.

“Oh, god. That’s my good girl,” he praises, massaging your scalp.

Your throat burns as you start to bob on him, swallowing every inch you’re physically able to. Danny has never been a head pusher, which you admire greatly because it would probably destroy your throat entirely. He lets you set your own pace, allowing you to take as much time as needed. He has no worries on finishing, the two of you becoming so familiar with each other’s bodies that it’s never an issue.

You gag around his length, tears welling at the corner of your eyes. You watch Danny toss his head back and his mouth make an ‘o’ shape. You swirl your tongue over him, tracing his veins as he holds your hair into a ponytail.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth, honey. I wonder if the neighbors think so too,” he pants, making you squeeze your thighs together. “Yeah? You like that idea, don’t you? Do you like the thought of people seeing you gagging on my dick?”

You can’t help the wail that leaves your chest. You repeatedly shove him down your throat, making him twitch and wither in your mouth. He hisses and you watch his jaw clench, tugging you away from his hard cock. His hands grip under your arms and he lifts you to your feet.

“Can’t wait any longer. Gonna fuck this pretty pussy,” he grabs the back of your neck and turns you towards the window. “Gonna bend over and stick your head out? Wave to all the neighbors as you soak my cock?” You moan in reply. “Yeah, right. You’re mine. They don’t get a show.”

He removes his hand from your neck and places it on your lower abdomen instead. He guides you backwards until your back is flat against the wall. He rids your shorts and panties quickly, tossing them behind his head with no care for where they end up. His fingertips immediately drag through your folds, causing you to latch onto his upper arms.

“So wet and pretty,” he coos in your ear, slipping his middle finger inside of you.

“Danny. Please fuck me,”

His finger pumps into you steadily for a few more seconds before he pulls away. “Fine. Put your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. Remember you asked for it,”

You yelp as he rips his own shirt off, his hands then moving to grip the back of your thighs. They dig into your skin, hard enough to leave a mark. You cry as he lifts you off the ground. As told, you wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. You’re already clawing at his warm skin, making him shiver as he slides the tip of himself through your folds. With one hand under your ass to keep you in place, he thrusts into you.

You’re shoved back into the wall with a thud, your head smacking the surface. You wince, but Danny keeps going. He barely gives you any time to adjust which is just how you like it. Something about the way you can feel him stretching you just drives you absolutely insane.

“You’re. So. Tight. Princess.” he says, each word escaping with the rhythm of his thrusts.

Your nails dig into the skin of his back, having no regard for the scratches you’re leaving. He whines at the feeling. Moving a hand to your breast, he squeezes and tugs on your hardened nipple. He lowers his head just enough to pull the flesh into his mouth, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. His tongue swirls and sucks on it, biting with his teeth until you squeeze around his shaft that’s buried deep inside you.

You’re close, and the desire to finish causes you to remove a hand from Danny’s back to rub circles into your clit. You work at a fast pace into the swollen bead until a hand catches it, bringing the motion to a halt. You’re wailing, hips bucking in to meet Danny’s thrusts.

“Move your hand,” he growls, lacing your fingers together and pressing it above your head.

“Daniel,” you warn.

“Your pussy is heaven, darling. I’ve never seen anything as pretty,” he cries, sucking on your neck. “She’s squeezing me so tight. Are you gonna come? Gonna make a mess on my cock and show me how much you love me?”

His words combined with his violent thrusts send you over the edge. Your back arches away from the wall, legs loosening around Danny’s waist as your mind goes blank. Not wanting you to fall, Danny lets your hand go and places both hands on your thighs to support you. Even after you’ve come down from your high, his pace doesn’t slow.

“Oh my god…” you say.

“I know. Just take it, yeah? Be my good slut and fucking take it. Take my cock that’s all soaked from your cunt. Give me another one,”

Hair clings to your forehead, glued in place from the sweat beads drizzling down your face. Your breasts bounce with every assault of Danny’s hips. The sensitive skin rubs against his toned chest, adding to your overstimulation. Your clit feels as if it might explode as he places his thumb on the bundle of nerves. You’re scrambling away from the feeling but his grip only tightens.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You wanted to play dirty, so we’re playing dirty. Now shut up and let me cum,”

You smirk at his words, pulling away from the crook of his neck you were hiding in. “You couldn’t cum if I didn’t make noise,”

“Is that a bet?”

Shit. “Yep,”

“Alright,” he shrugs, and moves away from the wall, you in his arms. Tossing you to the couch, he buries your face in the corner. “Don’t make a sound.”

You struggle to breath when he pushes himself back into you, hands gripping your waist as you meet his thrusts. A growl of pleasure rips through Danny’s chest, the sound making you bite back a moan of your own. He removes a hand from your waist and you wonder what he’s doing. You find out seconds later when a sharp painful sting falls across your ass. You bite into the cushion, trying not to make a sound. He does it again before squeezing the red area with his hands.

“You like that,” he moans, hands digging into the skin of your ass. “My good good girl likes it rough, huh? I’m fucking soaked, god. You’re so hot. ‘M gonna cum. Right in this pretty pussy. Gonna give it to you, yeah? Fill you up with my cum like you’re nothing but a pretty fuck-toy.”

Tears stream down your face as you try not to speak. When his hand snakes around your waist and begins rubbing your clit again, you can’t hold back. You squeal at the feeling of him attacking your overly-sensitive clit. He laughs from above you in victory, biting into the skin on your shoulder. His hips buck into you, your body doing it’s best to take all of it.

“Cum for me,” he begs. “Please, I need it so bad. One more. Go on, soak it.”

As if your body is wired to his mind, you climax again. Danny’s praising you again but it all sounds like mumbles to you from your position. Seconds after you finish, he does too. You feel him release himself into you, his warm ropes of cum decorating your insides like frosting on a cake. The warmness spreads through your body as you come down again. Danny uses you until he’s finished, deep and rough moans of pleasure ripping through his chest. Eventually, his movements falter to a stop.

He slips out of you, a string of cum connecting the two of you. He whines at the view before tearing it down with his fingers. You lay still until his hands flip you onto your back. You spread your legs as you feel him begin to drip out of you. He looks like a Greek god perched above you, the light accentuating his features. The muscles on his arms are outlined, along with his stomach muscles. His eyes are glued to your cunt that is overflowing with his cum.

He notices you watching him and bites his lip. “Look at this,” he leans over you and pulls your neck so you’re craned to look at yourself. “Fucking perfect,”

“Danny,” you heave.

“Yeah? You like how my cum looks running down your legs, sweet thing?” he asks, thumb tracing across your cheek.

“Fuck, I love it.” you admit.

“I’m gonna get you pregnant one of these days,” he runs his fingers through his hair before falling onto your chest.

“Danny, I’m on birth control,” you can’t help but giggle.

“We need to get you off it asap,” he says.

“What? You want a baby?” you’re stunned.

“I want everything with you. Besides, you’d be so hot pregnant. And your boobs would be massive,” he kisses your stomach.

You swat at his head with a chuckle. “You’re such a boy,”

“I’m just saying! That does happen, you know. They get all round and full with milk,” he stares up at you, tongue dragging over your nipple.

“Danny,” you whine. “Save this energy for later. I’m exhausted,”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees. “How about a bath? You can tell me about that book you’re reading,”

“Sounds good. But I don’t remember anything after you got out of the shower,” you admit.

“What can I say?” he shrugs. “Who would want to read when I’m here?”

You smile. “Now that I can agree with.”

»--•--«

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

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indigogvf · 4 months

Text

Need

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of SA!!! smut (minors dni), alcohol. If I missed anything please let me know!

Summary: You and Jake have never seen eye to eye, but when a guy creeps you out at his house party, does that change?

A/N: awful summary lol sorry I’m so tired and have been wanting to post this for ages. This is not as good as I wanted it to be, or as long, but I do not have the patience for that. For some reason the ideas were just not flowing for this fic, so I feel like it’s kinda jumpy. Sorry about that!! Also, my requests are open!! Anyway, enough of me yapping. Enjoy!!

This was not your thing; parties. It’s not that you hated them, but a nine pm bed time meant a lot more to you. Drinking made you sleepy. However, parties are especially not your thing when Jake is there. Even more so when they’re hosted at his house.

Much like tonight.

You can’t deny Josh’s puppy dog eyes for very long though, and you weren’t going to let one person ruin your night. He’s hosting the party anyway, so he has much more important things to worry about than trying to piss you off. You thought.

You thought wrong. As always.

The night begun smoothly. You felt confident and sexy, your dress hugging you in all the right places. You weren’t planning on getting into anyones pants tonight, but it felt nice to know you could. With that being said, you also felt nervous. You and Jake couldn’t get along at all; you can be civil when needs be, but it never lasts long. If you can’t get along sober, you doubt adding copious amounts of alcohol is going to have a positive impact.

You made your rounds of everyone, making sure to say hi to the people you knew; also making sure to keep well away from Jake. You and Jake have been holding the battle of “who can be the meanest” for quite some time now, and you honestly can’t even remember how it started, but you strongly disliked him. You’re both extremely stubborn, so as much as you feel bad for feuding with your best friends’ brother, you wouldn’t be caught dead making amends. And neither would he.

Obviously your first point of call after saying hello was getting yourself a nice, strong drink. A necessity, in your opinion. Definitely a necessity when jake’s around. You’d already lost Josh, who you came with, and you were now left to fend for yourself. You did know a good amount of people, but everyone knew everyone else more than you knew them, so you weren’t really sure where to start.

You wondered back to the main event, scouring the room for someone you know well enough to join their conversation. As you were looking around, you caught the eyes of Jake. His shirt was buttoned up by two buttons, max. You couldn’t quite see due to the darkness of the room. Speaking of, he’s wearing sunglasses. What a douchebag you thought. I mean, seriously? Sunglasses? In an almost pitch black room?

His hair was falling nicely, though. The sunglasses were giving his hair something to flow against, and it was framing his face well. It doesn’t matter how much you hate him, you will always be jealous of his hair.

He smirks at you, mischief written all over his face. You roll your eyes and move on. You promised Josh you wouldn’t argue with Jake tonight, and you really did feel bad. You know how hard it is for them to navigate this.

However, Jake had other intentions. He started walking over; you knew you were well within your rights to walk away, but you also knew that this would happen at some point, so you might as well get it over and done with.

“You look cute.” He mentioned sarcastically, gesturing to your dress.

“Thanks. Wish I could say the same about you.” You retorted with an eye roll, taking a step away from him. You wanted as much distance between you as possible.

“Oh, c’mon. You and I both know you like what you see.” He suggested with a cocky smirk, pointing at himself. He took a step closer, closing the space between you that you had just made.

“Seriously? You have that big of an ego? Take a look at yourself for once. You’re wearing sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Could you look like more of a dick?” You replied, taking a sip of your drink. You knew he enjoyed this a lot more than you did; you were easier to piss off.

“Look at myself? Look at you! You look like you’re begging to take someone home in that dress.” He laughed, throwing his head back. ‘Always so dramatic’ you thought.

“Yeah? Well at least I could take someone home if I wanted to, which I don’t, for the record. You can’t, not when you look like as much of an uptight prick as you.” You argued. You felt like steam was coming out of your ears. He always had to dig deep. Every time.

He began responding, but you had already started walking away. Like you said, you’d promised Josh you wouldn’t argue with him tonight, so you really didn’t want it to go any further.

You spot danny and Sam and take this opportunity to distract yourself. “hey guys, you having fun?” You asked as you waved at them.

“Hey y/n, did Josh ditch you? Already?” Sam queried, turning to face you. Danny sniggered beside him in response.

“Well, yeah. But I promise that’s not why I came to chat.” You knew that whatever Sam was suggesting was just a joke, but you also knew that if Josh hadn’t of ditched you, the overwhelming joy you felt when you saw them probably wouldn’t have been as intense.

“Yeah, whatever. How’s things with Jake? I see you’ve continued your feud.” Danny joined, subtly looking over to Sam. They know exactly how to wind you up. You will never understand how they find the humour in this situation; if it was the other way round, you would’ve grown impatient a long time ago.

“Yeah, but that’s done for the night. I’m really not in the mood for it to carry on tonight.” You said as you grabbed your drink to take another sip, taking a seat next to danny.

“Are you ever in the mood for jake, though? You say that every time, and every time the feud continues.” Sam giggled.

“You know, he’s right. How did this ‘feud’ even start? I can’t quite remember.” Danny said. Him and Sam were now laughing a little too hard considering how unfunny their comments were. At least you didn’t find them funny.

“You know what guys, maybe I will carry it on. Just for you.” You remarked, pointing your finger at both of them to further emphasis your point.

“Oh, we would love to see that.” Laughed Danny, turning to face you completely.

“Maybe you should just fuck it out. I mean, if all of our mutual friends can agree on that, maybe we’re right.” Sam added, without laughing. He was serious. He seriously suggested you ‘fuck it out’. With his brother.

“You guys suck. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab another drink.” You began walking away as they laughed; obviously happy with themselves for managing to wind you up.

You made your way into the kitchen, your eyes landing on a guy stood in the corner. You smiled politely as you walked past him to make your next drink. “You on your own?” He asked. Are. You. Serious. You thought. You were not in the mood for this.

“Uh, no. My friends are just in the living room, where everyone else is.” You said bluntly. You hoped that gave him the hint that you were definitely not interested.

Obviously, it didn’t.

“Your ass looks beautiful in that dress.” He said boldly as he took a step closer, looking you up and down.

“Thanks, but I’m not looking for any of that tonight.” You smiled in an attempt to soften the blow, whilst taking a step back.

“C’mon, you can’t wear a dress like that and not want some attention.” He laughed, reaching his hand out to brush your arm. You quickly retracted.

You were starting to panic slightly as it was clear he wasn’t getting the hint. “I’m okay, really.” You reiterated, taking another step back. You were now against the counter, awaiting his next move.

As he started to take a step towards you, Jake walked into the kitchen, pausing as he witnesses the guy come closer to you; again trying to reach out and touch your arm. He flicks his eyes to you, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You really hope he can see what you’re trying to tell him.

“Hey, what are you doing, man?” Jake asked, flicking his eyes between you as he walked further into the kitchen.

“That’s none of your business, man.” He mocks, drawing his attention back to you.

“It is when it’s my house. Did she tell you she was interested in you before you cornered her?” He asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He folded his arms and leaned on the counter, raising his eyebrows as he impatiently waited for his response.

“Well, I- no, but-“

“Enough said. Get off of her and get out of my house.” He spoke with a steady tone, pushing himself off of the counter and moving out of the way, further prompting the guy to leave.

You breathed out, not even realising you were holding your breath. “Thank you so much.” You sighed, running your hands over your face as you tried to ground yourself.

“Yeah, are you okay? Did anything else happen?” He asked with panic laced in his voice. He walked over to you and moved his eyes over you to check that you were okay.

You looked up at him. His eyes were laced with concern and worry; they looked softer, It was different. He always looked at you with such annoyance, but you liked this. “I’m okay. Thank you, Jake.” You replied. You really were okay, but unwanted men coming onto you will never get less daunting.

“I’m sorry that happened. If you need anything, you let me know. My bedroom is upstairs to the right if you need some quiet.” He said softly as he ran his hand through his hair, letting it fall back into place.

You were taken back, to say the least. You and Jake were never nice to each other unless absolutely necessary, but even then you were still throwing dirty looks around like there was no tomorrow. It was a moment of clarity. You would see Jake acting somewhat similarly to others; always so kind and caring. But never towards you. You wondered what it would be like to not dislike him so much, and to actually get along with him. Although this only gave you a small taste of that, you liked this a lot more than hating him. You still hated him though. You’re way too stubborn to admit that you might like him, even to yourself.

“Thanks. I’m okay, I promise. I always get shaken up when this type of stuff happens. I just need another drink.” You laughed a little, trying to soften the mood slightly. You picked up your cup and started to fiddle with it. You felt too awkward just standing there.

“Yeah, sure. Help yourself. Do you want me to stay with you and then help you find josh? So you’re not on your own again?” He suggested as he walked past you to get a drink out of the fridge.

What the fuck? You thought. You knew Jake could be nice, but you never expected him to be this caring. Not in a million years.

“Uh, yeah, actually. Would that be okay? I don’t want to steal you from your own party.” You mumbled, starting to pour a concoction of various kinds of alcohol into your cup.

“Of course. I know where he is, so it shouldn’t take long.” He reassured you with a soft smile, brushing past you to find a bottle opener for his drink.

You grabbed your drink and went with Jake to find Josh. Once you found him, you said your thank you’s to Jake and walked over to Josh.

“Was that Jake? Were you just with Jake? Did you just smile at Jake?” He asked, an excited grin on his face. He got up from his seat, eager to find out if your battle with Jake has finally ended or not.

“Yes, yes, and yes. Some guy was being a massive creep and Jake saw and kicked him out. He was really sweet, actually. It was weird.” You said, taking a sip of your drink whilst stealing Josh’s seat.

“Does this mean you both like each other?” He said, completely disregarding the small mention of the creepy guy; you didn’t blame him, though. This was exciting for him. His smile widened as he got more eager by the second.

“No. I still hate him.” You said firmly. You were not admitted the fact that you maybe, slightly like Jake. Not happening.

“Ugh, c’mon, y/n. You know he can be nice, you’ve seen it yourself. He’s even been nice to you now. Without any prompting.” He pleaded as he sat on the edge of the table opposite you.

You leaned back against the sofa and sighed. You looked at Josh’s face and you could see he was desperate for this to finally be over. “Okay, fine. I don’t like Jake. However, I’m not as inclined to gauge his eyes out when I look at him anymore. Happy?” You reasoned.

He shook his head and smiled. “Fine. This is a starting point, then.”

“Sure. You can call it that if you’d like.” You giggled. It was clear he was a little frustrated, all he wanted was his best friend and brother to get along, but it was fun to wind him up sometimes.

As the night went on, people slowly startled to filter out the party, only leaving a few people. You were thinking about jake, and how he helped you. You wanted to repay him, so you took yourself to the kitchen and began clearing up some of the used cups. You figured he would appreciate this, since no one likes cleaning up the morning after whilst morbidly hungover.

You were nearly done when Jake walked in. He paused in the doorway, “What are you doing?” He asked, not moving.

“Oh, hi. I’m just cleaning up a little bit. Thought it might help you out tomorrow when you’re hungover.” You stated, smiling at him and continuing to throw away all the trash laying around.

“You don’t have to do that.” He began to walk over and attempted to take the bag from your hands. You pulled your hands away.

“You didn’t have to help me earlier.” You looked up at him and sent him a reassuring smile. You really wanted to help out.

“How are you doing after earlier?” He asked, ignoring your previous statement.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad you helped.” You replied, setting the bag down on the floor when there was no more trash left on the counters.

“How are you getting home?” He wondered, picking up the trash bag and moving it to the doorway so he could take it out later.

“Oh, I was just going to get a taxi.” You said as you fiddled with your rings, again feeling awkward with this new tone of conversation between you.

He shook his head, “No, you can stay here.”

“Why do you care how I get home?” You retort. It came out slightly harsher than you expected, and he took a step back.

“Why do i care?” He repeated. “Look, we might not see eye to eye, but what happened to you tonight wasn’t okay. He might not have done anything, but who knows what might’ve happened if i didn’t show up at the right time. I know you know that, and I also know that you’re going to have overwhelming anxiety about getting into a taxi, by yourself, at night. I’m not willing to let you do that whilst you’re also drunk and vulnerable. What kind of person would that make me if I didn’t care?” He said, raising his voice. He began to walk away from you, making his way out of the kitchen.

You rushed over to him, grabbing his hand to pull him back into the kitchen, “Wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, I guess I’m just used to keeping my guard up around you.” You apologised, looking up at him. You realised you were still holding his hand, so you hesitatingly let go. You’d never really been this close to him, and you weren’t complaining. You studied his features, moving your eyes around his face.

“I know, me too. I’m sorry for shouting, it’s just annoying because I was being nice, and you sort of threw it back in my face.” He said as he did the same to you; studying your features.

You wondered what it would be like to kiss him, or what his calloused hands would feel like against your bare skin, or how he would feel insid- stop. You still hate him. You thought.

He wondered the same about you. He wondered how soft your lips would feel; how you would taste. He was willing to find out. In a moment of boldness, he began to move closer to your lips. He was getting closer, closer, clo-

“Hey guys- wait a minute. Did I just interrupt something?” Josh said as he walked into the kitchen, a smirk beginning to spread on his lips.

You both moved away from each other, not wanting to let on that you were making up with each other; or whatever you were doing. You weren’t really sure what just happened.

“No.” You both spoke at the same time.

“I was just clearing up, and then Jake came in. That’s all. What were you going to say?” You stuttered. You fiddled with your rings again, looking down at your hands.

“Oh. Well, I’m going to bed. I’m staying here tonight by the way, Jake.” He turned around and made his way out of the kitchen and upstairs to the spare room.

You giggled at Josh as you turned round to face jake again. “So, am I staying here, too?” You asked. You felt bad asking, but he was pretty clear on his opinions about you getting a taxi.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want.” He responded. He reached his hand to the back of his neck, playing with his hair. He obviously felt nervous. Or awkward. Probably awkward, you assumed.

“Yeah, thanks. Can I take a shower?” You asked. You felt gross, you always did after drinking. You noticed his eyes move over you, sparking a warm feeling in your belly. You tried to push the feeling away, not prepared or ready to feel this way about him on such short notice.

“Yeah. The bathroom is upstairs, opposite the top of the stairs. The towels are in the cupboard next to it.” He replied whilst pointing upstairs. Neither of you moved, you just started at each other. You were both equally as confused at what happened before Josh interrupted. Was it a moment? Was it not a moment? Who knows.

After a few seconds of painfully awkward silence and staring, you left to go upstairs and take a shower. You found the towels in the cupboard that Jake mentioned, and turned the shower on. You adjusted the temperature so that it was a little warmer, and peeled off your dress. It felt good to get it off of you; you never found tight dresses as the most comfortable option.

You tied your hair up in a bun after seeing the stingy amount of options for shampoo. You also didn’t fancy sleeping in wet hair. You stepped in and immediately relaxed at the feeling of the water hitting your back, making every effort to not get your hair wet. You took your time washing yourself, not wanting to leave the warmth of the shower. Your mind wondered to Jake. You’d always thought he was attractive, but you were never attracted to him. Probably because he was never nice to you. But after tonight, after seeing the caring side you’d only ever observed, you felt differently about him. It was hard to dislike him as much when you had been on the receiving end of his selflessness and kindness. You wondered what this meant for your relationship with him. Were you still enemies? Or were you walking into new territory with him? You weren’t sure.

Eventually, you decided to get out and began drying yourself. You wrapped the towel around you and tried to find Jake to ask where you would be sleeping, and if he had any clothes for you to wear. Both questions which should’ve been asked before you got in the shower, you realised. You found him in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed in just his trousers. You’d never seen him shirtless, and you’d never say no to seeing it again; that’s for sure.

You knocked gently on the door despite it being open, to let him know of your presence. He looked up and raked his eyes down your figure. You felt exposed.

“Hey. I was just wondering if you had anything for me to wear, and where I was sleeping?” You asked, speaking gently to not wake Josh up.

“Uh, yeah. You can sleep in here, if that’s okay with you. I’ll find you some clothes to wear, just give me a second.” He said, getting up from his bed and making his way to the chest of drawers to find some clothes for you.

“But where will you sleep?” You asked, feeling confused as you watched him dig through his clothes.

“On the couch downstairs. Here, you can wear this top. You can wear these pyjama bottoms if you want, but they’re a little big on me, so they’ll probably be big on you, too.” He muttered as he handed the pile of clothes to you. Your hands brushed together, the small amount of contact bringing back the warm feeling in your stomach. Stop. You thought.

“No, I’ll take the couch. I can sleep anywhere, it’s okay.” You responded, moving your hand to the top of your towel to stop it from slipping.

“Honestly, just take the bed. Take it as my formal apology for the last however many years of shit.” He smirked, attempting to make a joke out of the ‘however many years’ of torture.

“Oh, we’re apologising now?” You countered, returning his smirk.

“I think it’s about time, don’t you? Anyway, it’s your turn now. I just made my apology.” He said as he moved closer to you, leaning on the doorframe.

“Not to erase all of our progress, but that was not a very good apology.” You argued. God, he looked good without a shirt. You thought.

“I think it was a great apology. I’m offering you to sleep in a nice, warm, comfortable bed.” He retorted, gesturing to the bed behind him.

You shook your head and laughed. “It didn’t even include the word “sorry”, Jake.”

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry, y/n. Better?” He said, still sporting the same smirk.

You wanted to kiss him. You’d been trying to ignore this fleeting thought since you were in the kitchen together, but it was becoming insufferable. You squeezed your legs together at the sheer thought of him touching you.

“Better.” You responded, “I’m sorry, too. Truly.” You said, setting the tone to something more serious than before. You had less of an issue apologising to him now that he had initiated it, but you were so ready for this battle to be over between you.

He stared at you, not really knowing where to go from here. He also really wanted to kiss you; he thought you looked good in only a towel, and imagined how easy it would be to remove it. He imagined how you’d look underneath it, having to stop himself from finding out. He could see the swell of your breasts under the towel and felt himself starting to get hard. He saw your eyes flick down to his lips and linger there, before moving back up to his eyes. Does she want this, too? He thought. He took this as a signal that you felt the same and leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

You were in shock. You had been wanting this, but you did not realise he wanted it, too. You leaned into the kiss, feeding your hands into his hair. You tugged it at the roots slightly, earning a little groan from Jake in response. This felt so wrong; but it made sense. You wondered if all of your friends were right; maybe it was just built up sexual tension.

His hands moved round your waist, squeezing at your skin. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip begging for entrance, which you granted. You moaned into his mouth at the feeling and grabbed his arms, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You needed him, and he needed you just as much. You felt his hard-on press against your lower stomach. You could feel yourself getting wet at the thought of him inside of you, and reached your hand down and palmed him through his trousers. He sucked in a breath and pulled away, “Stop. Are you sure you want this?” He asked with concern and desperation written all over his face, pushing you away from him slightly.

“Yes, Jake.” You whined. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that; you were aiming for a steadier, firmer tone, but you found it hard to care, It’s not like you weren’t getting a little impatient.

He leaned back in, kissing you with more passion than before. He moved his hands to the top of the towel, silently asking you to take it off. You obliged, taking your hands away from his neck and unravelled it, letting it slide down your body.

He moved his eyes over your body, groaning at the site of you. “Fuck, you look so pretty.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and kissing you again.

You moved your hands to his belt a second time, undoing the buckle and chucking it on the floor. You undid the buttons and he slid them off, stepping out of them and kicking them out of the way. You saw his growing bulge through his boxers; you wouldn’t be lying if you said your mouth started watering at the sight. You wanted to taste him.

So you did just that. You got down on your knees, using his thighs as an anchor to ensure you didn’t keel over; that would be embarrassing. He looked down at you, his jaw slack and his hair draped around his face. He took his hand and gently cupped your cheek, slowly guiding your head forward. “You want a taste, baby?” He whispered, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You nodded your head yes whilst you took your hands to the tops of his boxers, he stopped you. Again.

“Words.” He demanded, tightening his grip on your jaw.

“Yes, I wanna taste you.” You muttered, still gripping his boxers.

He nodded, giving you permission to carry on. You slid his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. There was pre cum dripping out of the head, and you swear you almost started dribbling at the sight.

You leaned forward, his hand still pressed against your face, and licked up the side. He took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, moving his hand so that he could grip your hair.

You took the head into your mouth, sucking gently. You wanted to tease him. You moved down slowly, hollowing your cheeks ever so slightly. “Ah, fuck. Don’t tease.” He uttered. His breathing was starting to get irregular as you continued down his length.

He was getting impatient. He needed to be inside of you, and you were taking too long. He moved his hand to the back of your head, edging you forward and testing the waters. You hummed around his cock, giving him approval.

He moved your head forward, forcing you to take almost all of him into your mouth. He was huge; to say the least. You hollowed your cheeks as much as you could as he created a rhythm for you. You moved your hand from his thigh to the base of his cock, jerking him off slowly as you took the rest of him in your mouth.

He hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him. His hand faltered as he threw his head back, “Jesus, y/n.” He growled, pulling your hair harshly. You could start to feel him pulsing in your mouth, and you knew he was getting close. He was panting, at this point. His hair was sticking to his face and his jaw was slack. He looked hot, and the need you’ve been feeling for him has just increased by an obscene amount.

Almost as if he could sense your increasing desire, he pulled you off of him. “I nearly couldn’t stop myself.” He admitted sheepishly whilst he helped you off of your knees, bringing you in for another kiss. He could taste himself on your tongue; he could’ve come if he carried on, the images of you on your knees flooding his head.

“Get on the bed.” He uttered, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it onto the floor. You obliged, swaying your hips as you walked over to the bed.

He joined you on the bed and pushed your legs further apart, “Now it’s my turn to taste you. You want me to taste how sweet you are, honey?” He whispered as he placed soft kisses around your dripping cunt.

You moaned at the sheer thought of his mouth on you, “Yes, please.” You whined, moving your legs further apart as a way to prompt him.

He liked a stripe down you, causing your hips to buck into his mouth at the sudden sensation. You grabbed his hair in your hands, tugging slightly. “Eager, are we? I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunted, smirking to himself at the thought of getting you so worked up.

Your cheeks turned a crimson colour from embarrassment. “Please, do something. I need you.” You pleaded. It was getting too much now; you just needed something, badly.

“Be patient.” He muttered into you, pressing his mouth against you again. He circled your clit with his tongue, and with no warning, pushed his fingers into you; setting a relentless pace. The noise you made was inhuman, and as a reminder of the sleeping beauty next door, Jake smacked his hand on your thigh. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to hide the noises coming from you.

The rate at which he was pumping his calloused fingers was sending you to the edge at an embarrassing pace; he could feel you squeezing his fingers, “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” He asked, somehow pumping his fingers even faster than before.

He sucked on your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You were trying to speak, but you were sure your words were incoherent. Your orgasm was imminent; you were bucking your hips, desperate to come. His fingers hit a particular spot within you, and a wave of pleasure crashed into you full force. You were chanting his name like a mantra, though you were sure it made no sense. He took his fingers out of you and began lapping you up, striving to collect every little bit of your orgasm on his tongue. “So sweet.” He groaned.

You tried to push his head away; but he was stronger than you and carried on. “Can you give me another one? I know you can, sweet girl.” He prompted, pushing his fingers back inside of you and, yet again, setting a relentless pace.

“I need you, Jake.” You begged, still trying to pry his head away from yourself. You threw your head back into the pillows as the slight pain of overstimulated faded, being replaced with pleasure. “God, Jake.” You moaned.

“You gonna come around my fingers again, hm?” He taunted, placing his mouth back on your clit straight away.

“Fuck! Yes, yes, yes.” You whimpered, feeling your second orgasm approach quicker by the second.

“See? I knew you could do it for me.” He remarked, “C’mon, sweet girl. You can do it. Just one more and then you can have my cock, yeah?”

His words of encouragement egged you on, and you pulled at his hair in an attempt to bring him even closer. He groaned into you; the vibrations sending you over the edge. You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. You were beginning to wonder why you hadn’t listened to your friends because you did not want to wait any longer for him, and you were already half way there.

He pulled his head away, and slowed down the pace of his fingers, slowly working you through your high. He climbed on top of you, and the cold metal of his necklaces touching your chest sent a chill down your body.

You leaned in, starting a heated kiss with him. You couldn’t get enough of him; eager to feel him inside of you. He moved down to your chest, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking harshly. You arched your back into him, “Please, Jake. Please, I need you so badly.” You cried, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You moved your hand down to his cock and stroked him softly, “you want my cock, baby?” He uttered, trying to conceal the groan he let out from such a delicate touch.

“I can’t take it any longer, I need you, Jake.” You demanded, quickening your pace on his hard cock. He could’ve come right there and then; the combination of your touch and your shameless begging making it hard to control himself. It was painful, and he wondered how he didn’t just fuck you up against the wall the second you removed the towel.

He removed your hand, replacing them with his own, giving himself a few languid strokes before guiding it to your entrance. “You sure about this?” He asked, his tone switching from demanding to concerned.

“Jake, if you don’t fuck me right now, I might go insane.” You stated, looking up at him with pure desperation. You genuinely thought you were going to combust with how impatient you were getting.

He needed no further confirmation, and thrusted into you. You yelped at the feeling of him; the burning sensation from his cock stretching you out catching you off guard.

“Shit, y/n. You feel so good. So ready for me.” He panted, setting an unforgiving pace. His thrusts were deep, and reached all the right places.

You wrapped your arm around his back and dug your nails into him, needing something to grip onto. He groaned at the feeling, gripping the sheets beneath him. You could feel yourself getting closer already, and so could he, “Are you close? I can feel you- fuck, I can feel you squeezing me.” He groaned into your neck, “I wont last much longer if you keep doing that.” He moaned as he started to suck on your neck, leaving reminders of tonight for tomorrow.

You tried to respond, but the immense pleasure you were feeling caused your mind to go blank. You were trying to hold your orgasm off; not wanting this to end, but to no avail, your third orgasm came crashing down. You dragged your hands down jakes back, most definitely leaving scratches for him to discover tomorrow. He fucked you through your high; not faltering once, whilst whispering sweet words of encouragement into your ear, “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”

You came down from your high, feeling utterly fucked out. “Can you do one more for me? I know you can- fuck, just one more, please?” He said, his steady facade slipping in an instant.

“Jake, I can’t. It hurts.” You pleaded. On one hand, you never wanted this to end. But on the other hand, you were exhausted and the overstimulation hurt.

He moved his hand down to your clit, circling his fingers around it quickly. “You said that last time, and you did. Stop being pathetic.” He growled, leaning his head into your chest to start sucking on your nipple.

Pain turned into pleasure; as usual, and your fourth orgasm was fast approaching. “You can do it, please do it.” He begged, his hips faltering as he tried to hold off his orgasm. “I need to feel you come around my cock.” He pleaded, quickening his fingers which were circling your sensitive clit.

He toyed with your clit faster, silently pleading with you to hurry up.

It worked.

Although not as intense as the last three, you were still sure you were sent to some other dimension as your fourth orgasm hit you. You could feel jakes hips faltering as he fucked you through your orgasm, whilst also keenly chasing his own.

“Fuck! I’m gonna come, y/n. Where do you want it?” He asked, his face screwed up and seconds away from coming.

“Inside! Please, I wanna feel you fill me up.” You urged as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

His hips stopped, and he let out a guttural moan that you wish you could play on repeat. You pulled his head away from your neck, trying to see his face as his come filled you up. His hair was stuck to his face with sweat, and his cheeks were a crimson red.

He collapsed on top of you, his heavy breaths heating you up even more. You brushed his hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ears, wanting to see his fucked out face.

He rolled off of you and got up to the bathroom, leaving you on your own to reflect on what just happened. When he came back, he had a wash cloth and kneeled beside you to clean you up. “You okay?” He questioned gently, stroking the outside of your thigh.

“Yeah. Just tired, is all.” You replied, smiling at him. He thought you looked cute; sprawled out on his bed looking all fucked out and tired.

He discarded the cloth and came to lay next to you, pulling you into his chest. You wrapped your leg around his waist, and absentmindedly started to draw patterns on his bare chest.

“Thank you. For helping me earlier.” You mentioned quietly. You felt bad. Now that you had seen, first hand, just how caring he is, you felt bad for the way you had previously treated him.

“Look, y/n,” he sighed, “I’m not a bad person. I know we haven’t gotten along for some time now, but it doesn’t feel good to think that you assumed I’d ever leave someone to fend for themselves in that type of situation; or any type of bad situation. I personally think I just adequately apologised by making you come four times, but I think you’d disagree. So, I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you, and for all of the comments I’ve made towards you. I’ll be honest, I’ve seen the way you are towards others; the real you, and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that. Now I know that you’re a great person, and always have been.” He confessed, stroking your hair softly. You were overwhelmed, to say the least. You never expected to make up with Jake so fast; let alone going from hating him, to having sex with him, all in one night.

“I’m sorry, too. I know, and knew, you weren’t a bad person. If we’re sharing secrets now, I’ve wanted to make it up to you for a while, but I was too stubborn. I would agree that you adequately apologised, but hearing you say the words made it a lot better. The best apology I’ve ever received, if you will.” You giggled softly, admiring his face. He always thought you were attractive, but seeing you in this knew light made it different for him. He wasn’t just attracted to the way you looked anymore, but you as a person, too.

You wondered what this meant for both of you. You knew you at least liked each other now, but you wanted to know him. The small taste of the real Jake you had gotten tonight was simply not enough.

“What does this mean for us? Are we friends now?” He queried, a frown appearing on his face.

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you take me out to dinner and we can find out?” You countered, your heart rate increasing at your sudden boldness. He stopped stroking your hair and looked at you with a grin.

“Deal.” He agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your lips. You pulled away, nuzzling your head into his chest with a giddy smile plastered on your face.

293 notes · View notes

holybananafuck · 12 days

Text

Watermelon Sugar/ s.f.k

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2607

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

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LMK IF I MISSED ANY TAGS!

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🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can do it better, y’know.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

~🍉~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go team!”

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

~🍉~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything for you.”

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

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

“Just thinking about that smack from earlier,”

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

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

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

“Sam…”

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

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

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

“Please what, pretty baby?”

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

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

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

“F-faster…”

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

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

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

“Perfect spot for the hammock.”

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shutupdevvie · 3 months

Text

“hate bound by fear will unwind”

—

yes i did sit here and write out the lyrics of lml like 30 times for this

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #josh kiszka gvf #jake kiszka gvf #sam kiszka gvf #danny wagner gvf

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ageofhearingloss · 7 months

Text

Talk ⎮ Sam Kiszka x Reader

a/n: i've got hozier on the mind, people! sorry! this idea has been banging around in my head for a while, and since i can only write angst, here y'all go (sammy nation, just email me an invoice for your therapy) ((and look at the lyrics to this song!))

thank you @sacredjake for the pic (credit to owner!) and @gold-mines-melting for editing and being my second set of eyes; it truly takes a village lol

pairing: asshole!sam kiszka x fem reader

summary: you hated sam, you really did, but one fateful night he gets under your skin in more ways than one.

warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, minors DO NOT INTERACT!!! angst, alcohol consumption, stubborn mean asshole sammy (my guilty pleasure), petty y/n (she is by no means blameless LOLLLL) degradation, name calling, hate sex, unprotected p in v (please be safe, folks), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), spanking, choking, pls let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 8.3k

You couldn’t stand his face. The cadence of his voice. The smirk that would splay across his lips when he found another woman to lead on only to inevitably gaslight her and leave her hanging once the night was through. You really couldn’t stand any of it.

And now, posted up on the side of the bar with your friends, you were seeing red watching Sam comb his fingers through some innocent woman’s hair as he leaned in close to her to undoubtedly whisper a slew of nonsense.

“You know, you really shouldn’t let him get to you as much as he does,” your best friend, Danny, murmured, shaking you from your spiraling thoughts. “He’s way more harmless than he looks.”

You sighed, turning your head back down to the drink in your hands that was now mostly water and melting ice.

“Did you really have to bring him with you tonight? Like, I know he’s your friend and your brother and all, but-”

Josh clapped you on the back, signifying his return from wherever he scampered off to.

“That’s right, mama, he’s our brother. Unfortunately, we’ve had to learn how to live with his antics, and you might as well, too.”

The glare you shot Josh had him retreating his hand from your back, slowly backing away with arms raised, signifying his surrender as a chuckling Jake took the spot beside him.

“Yeah, well you might want to give him that pep talk, too, Josh. I know he feels the same way about me as I do him.” Jake’s smile only widened as he brought his glass to his lips, muttering something that wasn’t quite loud enough for your ears to pick up, but earned him a jab in the stomach from his twin.

The blood pulsing through your veins was beginning to turn scalding hot as you turned to take in the scene that was unfolding between Sam and his mystery woman of the night. He now had his arms snaked low around her waist, kissing and nibbling at her ear as she blushed and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

“Relax your jaw, honey, you’re gonna give yourself a headache,” Danny cooed from over your shoulder, bringing a reassuring hand to the middle of your back as you continued to stare, imagining lasers darting from your eyes to shoot right through Sam’s head.

“How can you all tolerate,” you gestured towards Sam, “this? It doesn’t bother you at all? His blatant disrespect for any woman that walks the earth?”

“Of course it bothers us, darling,” Jake started, coming up beside you to watch Sam as well, “but you know Sam. He is never going to quit doing something unless he finds out the hard way for himself, no matter what any of us tell him. One of these days Karma will get him, and I personally can’t wait to watch.”

He was right, of course, and that was one of the things that drove you craziest about Samuel. Sam was headstrong and stubborn, refusing to listen to any advice given to him and always getting burned in the long run, even if he didn’t realize it at the time. He was arrogant, smug, self-righteous, and always had to have his way, and the thought of him using this poor girl to his own advantage only to gaslight her and leave was about the last thing you could tolerate.

The worst part of it was that you had always secretly found Sam attractive, and sometimes there would be an all-knowing flash in his eyes when you two were bickering that suggested that perhaps he actually liked getting a rise out of you. The curve of his smirk, the twinkle of his honey-brown eyes, he had to know. And it all pissed you off further.

You hadn’t realized that you zoned out, still locked on Sam, until his eyes met yours. The woman he had in his arms was now buried in his neck, reciting whatever sweet nothings Sam had definitely spewed to her, and once his gaze found yours, a sinful smile began to creep up on his lips.

Fuck him.

Flustered, you turn back to the bar, dropping your head to try to hide your rising blush from Danny and the twins. You had to get out of there.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom quick, I’ll be right back,” you explained as you shot off your barstool, knowing that the bathrooms were just past Sam. The company of three hummed in acknowledgement, already deep within a conversation about the studio session they had earlier that day.

You didn’t know why you felt this way. Sure, you hated the guy, but why was he able to get under your skin so easily? Every action he made ignited a new fire within you, every word that dripped from his plush lips was poison to your ears. And you knew it was childish, but you had to do something to not let that girl be a pawn in another one of Samuel’s selfish chess games.

You knew it was extremely childish as you approached the couple, slightly hip-checking Sam as you stormed past, causing a gasp to tumble from him as he bumped into the woman before him, causing him to spill his drink down her front. You didn’t stop to apologize even though your right mind was telling you to turn around and grovel on your hands and knees for forgiveness; no, you continued on your path to the ladies restroom, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips.

~~~~~~

You were leaning over the sink touching up your lipstick when the faint click of the lock sounded from the door. Through the reflection in the mirror, you could see Sam entering the bathroom and turning the lock before he settled his weight up against the wood, arms crossed and a purely sour look on his face.

“I believe you’re looking for the room next door, Samuel,” you started, placing the cap back on the bullet and straightening before the mirror, tousling your hair slightly. You needed to keep your hands busy; you’ve never seen him this angry and you knew you should be nervous, but you were too busy damning yourself for the heat that flooded to your face and the sudden clenching of your thighs. He was pissed. Good.

“That was a low blow, even for you.” His voice was gravelly and hoarse, any semblance of playfulness worlds away from the shitty dive bar that you two occupied. You watched Sam as he shoved off the door, stalking towards where you stood only to stop short a few feet behind, his eyes burning into your reflection. “I could’ve sworn there was a hint of jealousy in your eyes when you were admiring me from across the room.”

Your stare darkened and your jaw tensed.

“You can only be jealous of something you want, Sam, and the last thing I want to be is your conquest for the night.”

The sides of his mouth twitched in what you could’ve sworn was going to be a smile, but he masked his amusement quickly as he inched closer to you, a lion stalking its prey.

“You’re really telling me you just happened to trip and fall into me, doll?” The nickname left his lips with a condescending tilt of his head. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

Having had enough, you dropped his glare, throwing your lipstick in your bag and whirling around to face him, leaning your weight slightly on the countertop behind you.

“Fine,” you relented, crossing your arms, “but it was never because I was jealous, let me make that fucking clear. It’s because you’re one of the biggest self-righteous assholes that I have ever met and I couldn’t watch you ruin yet another woman's night beyond some club soda spilled on her shirt.”

“I’m pretty sure I was about to make her whole night, Y/n, not ruin it.”

“Really?” You were certain steam was coming out of your ears at this point. “What was going to be your excuse tonight, hm? Telling these people exactly what they want to hear despite your worst intentions,” you dared a step closer to him, “deceiving them, convincing them that you want “the exact same thing” that they do, when all you want is a pretty plaything to warm your dick.” One more step closer. “Making them all trust you before you leave in the middle of the night and block their number, never to be seen again.” You were close enough to him now that you pressed your index finger to his chest as you seethed through clenched teeth, “You make me fucking sick.”

His hand wrapped around your wrist in a vise-like grip, hatred and something that looked like lust dancing in his eyes as he brought his face inches away from yours. “You could only wish that you were the pretty plaything I get to warm my dick with.”

That was the last thing you thought he’d say and it was obvious by how your jaw hung open, causing a low chuckle to rumble out of Sam’s chest. He threw your wrist down as he straightened and turned on his heel, heading for the door.

With his fingers about to turn the lock, he threw you a glance over his shoulder,

“And you’ll catch flies in your mouth with that dumb ass look on your face.”

~~~~~~

Trying to settle your racing thoughts, you stalked back to where your friends sat at the bar, seemingly far more intoxicated now than when you had left them. You laughed under your breath as you approached them, setting your bag down on the bar and reclaiming your stool.

“Daniel called Jake “Little Man” so Jake bet Daniel that he can hold his liquor better than him even though he’s shorter,” Josh leaned over to explain, a Cheshire cat grin on his face, “so now they’re in a pissing contest.”

“Oh no,” you chuckled out, rubbing your hand in small circles on Danny’s back as Jake stuck his tongue out at him, “you know Jake can drink you under the table any day.”

Danny tilted his head to blink up at you, his eyes impossibly droopy. “I had to at least try, honey,” he managed to slur out, that dopey smirk you’ve come to love so much making an appearance. “And you’ll never, EVER, succeed, you prick!” Jake shouted in his British accent as he slammed his hand down on the sticky counter, earning genuine belly laughs from the entire group and annoyed groans from the other patrons in the bar.

Josh hurriedly hopped off his stool, going to place an arm around his twin's shoulder. “And with that,” he shook Jake a little bit, “I think it’s our time to leave.” He coaxed Jake off of his stool, albeit a tad reluctantly, and closed their tab with the bartender. Josh turned to you, “I’ll get him home, do you think you can manage Daniel?”

“Yeah, do you think you can manage me?” Danny hiccupped, trying to get off his stool and stumbling a bit. “Yes, you big lug,” you wrapped your arm around his torso, making sure his own was secured around your shoulders as you tried to support his weight, “and I’ve dealt with you in far worse situations.”

He giggled as the two of you waved goodbye to the twins, Josh laughing as Jake staggered out of the front door.

“Alright,” you turned your attention back to Danny, “you ready to go? You’re gonna crash on my couch, I don’t trust you to be out of my sight.” He let out a shocked gasp, his free arm moving to clutch at his chest in faux disbelief before he blurted out, “Sammy.”

Ugh, that’s right. Where the fuck was he?

You groaned as you scanned the bar, seeing Sam tucked away in a booth nearby with a new woman, the previous one shooting daggers from her eyes at him from her spot in a booth not too far away. You still had your arm wrapped around Danny as you barked out, “Sam! We’re leaving!”

Sam looked over at you with disgust, clearly upset that you interrupted him once again before he saw Danny tucked in your grip.

“Ooooooh Sammy boy, it’s time to go hooooommeee!” Danny yelled in his best sing-song voice, and you watched in awe as Sam’s face shifted from anger and attitude to one of fondness and humor. He smiled at his friend, the admiration in his eyes shining through.

If only he could act this way with everyone.

“Okay, okay asshole, I’m coming,” Sam laughed back from his seat, dismissing himself from his companion and swaggering over to you and Danny. Without saying another word, he pulled Danny’s other arm around his shoulders, the two of you supporting the weight of the drunken curly-haired man between you.

Sam leaned forward a bit to catch your attention, “So, what's the plan?”

“I’m gonna take him to my place, get some Alka-seltzer in him before he passes out on the couch,” you explained. You appreciated that you both could drop the act for a second, more concerned about helping your mutual friend than bickering. “If you could just help me get him to my car, that’d be great.”

Sam nodded his understanding, but asked, “And are you going to be able to get him up the stairs to your apartment by yourself?” He had a good point, the stairs to your place were treacherous being that you lived on the fourth floor, the stairwell full of angled turns that you were sure you’d have to drag Daniel up.

You sighed, “Probably not, would you mind helping me?”

Danny chimed in, “I can walk up the stairs just fine, thank you very much,” trying his best to convince you both but the tripping of his feet told you everything you needed to know.

Sam smirked with a hint of fire in his eyes, intentionally ignoring Danny’s plea, “I thought you’d never ask.”

~~~~~~

“C’mon Danny, just a few more flights,” you begged, Danny dragging along like dead weight between you and Sam. Thankfully, the ride home had been bearable, Sam too focused on his friend to pay any attention to you as you drove. You were grateful for that fact, definitely less than pleased that Sam would be stepping through the threshold of your home even if it was for a good cause. The other men had been to your place plenty of times, but you had a strict rule about not letting Sam over. Didn’t want his energy in your space.

“You got this, Dan, come on buddy,” Sam chimed in with you, readjusting Danny’s arm around his shoulder, hauling him up the stairs. Finally, you made it to the landing where your front door stood, and you shimmied out from under Danny’s arm as you fumbled for your keys.

“I love you guys,” Danny mumbled out, wrapping his now-free arm around Sam and bringing him into a bear hug that had Sam laughing. You couldn’t help but chuckle too; your best friend was a sentimental drunk.

“Yeah, we love you too, you flirt,” Sam said, clapping his hand on the man's back as you unlocked the door and held it open for them to stumble through. “I’m not a flirt,” you heard Danny say, almost unintelligible as they passed you and headed over to the couch, thankfully not too far from your front door. You watched for a minute as Sam set Danny down on the cushions, then immediately crouched down in front of his friend and began untying the laces of Danny’s beat up Vans.

You remembered Danny’s words from earlier that night: “He’s way more harmless than he looks.” Maybe he was right, but it would take a whole lot more than that to convince you that Sam was a genuinely good person.

‘Would take a whole personality change, you thought as you shut and locked the front door.

“Can you get him situated? I’m gonna grab him some water and meds,” you called, already heading towards your kitchen. Sam waved you off, which you took as a ‘yes’, and left the room. As you rummaged through your cupboards, you reminded yourself of all the things you disliked about Sam; you weren’t going to let this one act of kindness get to you. Besides, you’ve witnessed some truly despicable things from him.

Plopping two antacid tablets in a cup of water, you hurried back to the living room, seeing that Danny was now horizontal on your couch, his head propped up behind a couple of decorative pillows. Sam grabbed a blanket from the basket that sat on the floor and draped it over him before sitting on the arm of the couch by Danny’s feet. Making your way over to your friend, you saw that his eyes were closed, already dozing off. You scratched his head lightly, causing his eyes to open a smidge.

“Take a couple sips of it, then you can go to sleep,” you cooed, his hand coming up to grab the cup and bringing it to his lips. “Thanks, honey,” he whispered after drinking half the glass and handing it back to you, smiling up at you as he laid his head back on the pillow. You leaned over to set the cup on the end table by Danny’s head, then moved to kneel next to the couch, running your fingers through his hair to coax him to sleep. His eyes immediately drifted shut, and soon enough his breathing evened out, faint snores coming from his slightly parted lips. You smiled to yourself, purposefully forgetting that the man you despised sat no more than 10 feet away from you, watching silently as you took care of his friend. Sleep wasn’t too far off for you, either, and you desperately needed to get out of your clothes and into something comfy, but before you could get up, Sam cleared his throat, reminding you of his presence.

“I’m gonna stay with him for a little while longer, if that’s okay with you,” he said softly, not a hint of the usual arrogance in his tone. You blinked at him, a little stunned by the kindness of the gesture and the gentleness of his words. “Oh come on, Y/n, I know I’m a dick but I’m not that heartless.”

And there’s the asshole I know.

You stood, stretching a bit before landing your eyes on him again. “You can do whatever you want, I’m gonna go get ready for bed. You can let yourself out when you’re ready.” Not bothering to wait for an answer, you turned on your heel and started towards your bedroom; you weren’t too interested in what he had to say anyways.

To your dismay, sleep completely evaded you the second your head hit the pillow. Teeth brushed, face washed and in a big, comfy t-shirt, you tossed and turned in your bed, finally deciding to turn back on your salt lamp. Josh had told you once or twice that it’s better to get up and do something if you can’t sleep rather than just stare at the ceiling, so you decided to heed his advice.

You checked the time on your phone; it had been an hour or so since you left the boys in your living room. You knew Danny would sleep through the night no problem, and you could have sworn that you heard the front door slam a half hour ago, signifying Sam’s departure.

You locked your phone and put it back on your nightstand.

Sam.

You flipped on your back and huffed out a sigh; you couldn’t believe that he had been in your apartment. Reliving the events from the night, your blood began to heat again, remembering just how infuriating he had been at the bar. How rude he had been to those women. How hot you had found it that he locked the both of you in the bathroom, and how your thighs clenched when he grabbed your wrist.

How could you be this attracted to a man you despised? It made your anger grow tenfold, trying desperately to convince yourself that he did not have this effect on you, that you were simply tired and touch-deprived and that was the reason why your mind was stooping so low. But the more that you thought about him from the sanctuary of your bed, the needier you became. It was just physical attraction, right? There’s nothing wrong with that, you repeated in your mind, knowing damn well that you were going to beat yourself up in the morning for what you were about to do.

Alright Josh, I’ll do something, you thought as you opened the drawer on your nightstand, grabbing your vibrator that kept you company on nights like these.

Back bowing off the mattress, you held your breath as your eyes screwed shut, your release just out of arm's reach. Thoughts of Sam swirled in your mind's eye, imagining the way his guitar fingers would feel pressed into the canvas of your skin, the song your name would sound like when it dripped from his lips. Your orgasm was speeding towards you, the wave cresting and about to crash, when the sound of your bedroom door shutting snapped you back to reality.

Your eyes shot open as you bolted straight up, your vibrator still buzzing away beneath the bed sheets.

“Please, don’t stop on my behalf.”

Sam stood with his back pressed against your door, a mirror image of his actions from earlier. Arms crossed, a devilish smirk on his face that you wish you could smack right off. And you would get up to do it if only you were wearing pants.

“GET OUT!” You hissed, your vision blurry with rage as you chucked your pillow at him with little thought. He side-stepped it easily, not paying the plush fabric any mind.

“In my defense, I knocked,” his head tilted up so he could look down his nose at you, “twice. Seems like you were too preoccupied to hear me.”

“Sam, I told you to get out! Why are you still here, anyways?” You fumbled for your vibrator under the sheets, finally switching it off, shrouding your room in silence.

“Well,” he shoved off the door, eyes still glued to you, “I was coming to ask you if there was a pot or bowl or something I could set next to Dan in case he needed to throw up.” He made it to the foot of your bed, looking down at your exposed leg that was visible from beneath your blankets and slowly trailed his gaze to your beet-red face.

You pulled the blankets so your bottom half was completely covered, “There are things underneath the kitchen island, okay? Just please, for the love of god, get out of my fucking room!” You yelled at him; you desperately needed him to leave so you could focus on your breathing and not on the wetness collecting on the insides of your thighs.

But Sam clearly had other plans as he sat at the foot of your bed, not bothering to say a word for what felt like ages.

“Bet I could do a better job than that bit of plastic.”

What? Were you hearing him correctly?

Your eyebrows shot up as you tried to find words, but his statement had shocked your brain into malfunction.

“I’m just saying,” he glanced at the lump underneath the blankets next to you, to the toy that hid beneath, “I’m right here. And I could do a better job.”

“Are you fucking serious right now, Sam?”

His smirk dropped and was replaced by a sternness that you’ve never seen from him as he leaned ever so slightly closer to you.

“That depends, are you considering it?”

“No way, I fucking hate you!” You tried to whip your other pillow at him but he caught it effortlessly, holding your stare with an eyebrow raised.

Of course you were considering it, you had been seconds away from your own release that was brought on by lewd thoughts of him, and now that he sat at the edge of your bed, looking positively sinful… How could you not consider?

“Likewise, but I’ve seen the way you look at me. You think I don’t notice, but I do.” The smirk came back. That stupid, gut-wrenching smirk. “And I think I’ve made myself clear about what I think of you.”

“And what do you think of me, Samuel?” That piqued your interest, subconsciously mirroring his actions and leaning your body closer to his.

His voice was a low rumble in his chest as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips.

“I think you’re a brat, you’re entitled.” Suddenly, he was shifting his position, climbing onto your bed on his hands and knees.

“You have a big mouth.”

He moved closer to you.

“You ruin my fun.”

Closer still.

“I can’t fucking stand that you’re close with my brothers.”

Closer.

“I fucking despise being around you,”

His arms encased your legs on either side of them, his head mere inches away from yours, and just barely a whisper, he breathed,

“And yet I dream of all the pretty noises I could coax out of you while you’re in my bed.” He glanced down at his hands and grabbed the sheets, “Or your bed, apparently.”

“You talk a big game as if you didn’t just say you think about fucking me,” you said lowly, thankfully your voice steadier than how you truly felt. “I can see it in your eyes when you're spouting your stupid shit to me, even before you admitted it.”

Sitting up further on the bed, you pressed your back against your headboard, having more room now that your pillows were scattered remains on the floor. Your confidence swelled; the man you hated had just revealed that he dreamt of having you, taking you, and you weren’t going to let that bit of information go to waste.

“You know what I think, Sam? I think there’s a different reason why you can’t keep a girl longer than one night,” you mused, crossing your arms and feigning disinterest.

“And what would that be, doll?”

It was your turn to look down your nose at him, causing that wicked grin to crawl upon his features.

“You’re a little attention whore. You want these girls to want you, and once they do, you get bored. Such a fucking asshole. You want them to think about you, to get all hot and bothered by you, and you toy with their hearts cause you truly don’t want any of them, do you?”

Sam was back hovering over you in an instant, one of his hands gripping your cheeks so your lips puckered slightly, his eyes searing into your soul as your own were blown wide.

“Tell me what I want.”

You tilted your chin up a little more, your nose nearly brushing his as you fixed your stare; it was your turn for a devilish smile.

“You’ve always wanted me, haven’t you?”

His hand left your cheek in favor of caressing your jawline, his slender fingers pausing underneath your chin as he brought his face ever closer to yours as you asked, “Do you wanna fuck me?”

Genuine amusement shown on his features for a split second before he regained his composure, humor still dancing in the chocolate of his eyes,

“I really want to, doll, but you know that.” His thumb brushed against your lips; the gentleness that would pop up here and there was still surprising you, being as it wasn’t something you were used to. Maybe if you had paid more attention to him you would have picked up on it, but you were never interested in getting to know him more than the bare minimum. Maybe until now… “Do you want to?”

Was this really happening? You knew you wanted him, needed him, badly, but what would happen tomorrow? A week from now when you inevitably would see him at the bar? Oh god, and Danny was still asleep on your couch not too far away…

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He whispered.

“Yes, I want you to fuck me, Sam.”

His face darkened nearly instantaneously, the leash on his composure snapping. The light hand underneath your chin traveled quickly to your throat, and you felt his calloused fingers squeeze the sides of your neck as he breathed into your ear,

“Yellow, we slow down and talk. Red, we stop altogether.” You sucked a sharp inhale through your nose; you couldn’t believe how excited you were. “Or tap me three times, I’ll know what it means.”

He didn’t have to look down at your body to feel you squirming in place, for he knew exactly what he was doing to you. And when you felt his lips curl into a smile against the shell of your ear, the leash holding you back snapped as well.

“Green.”

That was all he needed. Before you knew it, Sam had let go of your throat with a hint of force, hopping up to yank you to the foot of the bed by your ankles, bringing you to lay flat on your mattress. He rolled his eyes as a faint gasp escaped you, every movement he made shocked you slightly. Straightening to his full height, he began removing his clothes, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his display; you’ve never even seen him shirtless before.

The outfit he wore tonight was one of your favorites- a pair of black slacks that fit him a little too tightly, not that you were complaining, and a cream colored corduroy button up, buttoned only at his navel, a page out of his older brother's book. A small, navy crystal in the shape of a triangle hung as a pendant around his neck. Simple, but elegant. You could see he was unbelievably hard already, straining in the confines of his pants, and secretly you knew he was getting off on watching you watch him, only further confirming his need and love for attention.

He forwent unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion, revealing his slim, tanned torso. It felt nice to have an excuse to marvel at his beauty, to take a moment to really look at him without any malcontent.

“Like what you see, princess?”

Nevermind.

You flopped back down on the bed, causing your t-shirt to hike up a little higher. The blankets and sheets were still hiding you from him so he couldn’t see your exposed skin, but you were growing impatient, ready to throw them off of you. Ready to pull Sam on top of you. The mental notes you had taken suggested that if you pushed the right buttons, he’d easily give you what you wanted.

“You ruin everything when you speak, Samuel,” you sighed, doing your best to look disappointed.

His eyebrows shot up as he tied his hair back in a low bun; the feral look in his eyes told you that he wasn’t going to tolerate much more.

Good.

Ripping the blankets off of your body, he threw them to the floor. The cool air in your bedroom lapped at your bare legs, sending a kiss straight to your core. And then he was pinning your legs open with both of his knees, his hands planted on either side of your head, bits of hair already falling from his bun and curtaining your vision.

“You’re such a fucking tease, princess.” He dipped his chin to his chest to assess the mess that had already gathered at the apex of your thighs. “And you’re already so wet for me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, did you forget-”

“Forget about this?” He reached across your mattress to grab your vibrator, cold and lonely. “How could I?”

The teasing was becoming unbearable and you debated whether you should just toss him out of your room and get back to your night with your trusty toy.

“Can you either shut up or put your mouth to good use?” You huffed.

A saccharine smile as he bent closer, a promise of a kiss as he whispered, “I intend to take my time with you, to make you scream and wake poor Daniel up.”

He was about to capture your lips with his and as much as you wish he would, your annoyance was still at the forefront of your mind. Since both of your hands were free, you used one to clamp over his mouth, his eyes shooting open in surprise.

“Ah ah ah,” you tutted, “I don’t think you’ve earned that privilege.” You turned on your best set of doe eyes as you cooed, “Find another use for your mouth.”

Sam playfully nipped at the palm of your hand before rising on his knees, stretching your legs even further, a look of pure wonder as he observed you spread out for him. He dropped your toy in favor of using his hands to roam over your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt that was now bunched up on your hips. You helped him pull it over your head, and once his hands were free of the fabric, they were sweeping over your skin anywhere he could touch; swiping his thumbs on the smooth skin underneath your breasts, running his fingers over your ribs and down the sides of your waist, until they landed on on the divots where your hips met your thighs. And he stole the air out of your lungs as he breathed to himself, “Stunning.”

But he moved on quickly, moving to lay flat on his stomach in between your legs, picking up your vibrator in his left hand. Catching your stare as he lowered his mouth to where you needed him most, he shot you a wink before diving into your cunt, sending a long stripe from his tongue from your entrance up to your clit. It all happened so quickly, and you gasped as your head shot back onto the mattress, hands flying to the silky roots of his hair.

He hummed against you immediately, causing delicious vibrations to shoot straight through your system. Stars were illuminating the backs of your eyelids as he devoured you with a fervor no partner has ever rivaled, and you silently cursed him, knowing that you would unfortunately be craving this night after night.

The pleasure was short lived, however, as he withdrew his lips that were attached to your clit. You lifted your head up and shot him a look of utter annoyance, only to then hear the faint buzzing of your vibrator.

“Didn’t you say you could do a better job than that thing?”

“Yes, and I am,” he smirked, using his free hand to trace your entrance and gather your slick on his fingers. He held them up to show you, “I just thought since you wanted to cum so badly with it, I’d have to make you.”

Your groan of distaste quickly turned more guttural as he pressed the silicone directly on your throbbing clit. A dark chuckle rang out through your room as he watched you begin to writhe on the mattress, your hands gripping the sheets as if your life depended on it. There was no build up; he had turned your toy to its highest setting and pressed it against you with enough pressure to send you into oblivion. Your moans continued to grow louder, your orgasm nearer to you than you had estimated.

The fingers on his free hand began dancing around your dripping entrance, and you forced your eyes open to watch as he slid two fingers inside you, curling them to the perfect angle that caused his name to tumble past your lips.

“Shhh…” he started condescendingly, “What would Daniel think? Hearing you be such a fucking whore for me.” You whimpered, trying to quiet yourself and prolong the inevitable release that would soon crash into you. “What is it he always calls you?” His tone was mocking, his eyes blown with lust and his mouth slightly agape. Until he snapped his eyes to yours, “Honey?”

“D-don’t,” you whined, but your body betrayed you as you clenched around his fingers.

“Oh, you just love it when he calls you that, don’t you? I can’t wait to tell him what it does to you.” His fingers sped up their pace as your thighs began to tremble, your walls fluttering around him. “C’mon, give it up, honey, I know you’re there.”

Your back bowed off the mattress for the second time tonight, eyes screwing shut as the ball of tension in your stomach finally snapped and you were clamping around his fingers, vibrator still buzzing away with all its might.

“That’s it, princess, cum for me,” he cooed, slowing his fingers but not taking the toy away as he watched in awe while you rode out your orgasm, twisting and turning on the mattress beneath him.

It wasn’t long before overstimulation had you in its grasp, and you grabbed his wrist with more force than you thought you had in you, silently begging him to let up. He looked at you, batting his eyelashes, and you prepared yourself for more nonsense to fall from his lips.

“I thought you wanted to cum so badly?”

“Sam, please,” you admitted defeat, “I can’t do another.” Steadying yourself with deep breaths through your nose, pleading with your eyes for him to show you mercy.

But your jaw dropped as he genuinely laughed at you, a malicious sounding noise filling the space.

“Told you you’d catch flies with that dumb ass look on your face.” He finally withdrew both the toy from your oversensitive clit and his fingers from inside you, bringing the digits to your open mouth and placing them on your tongue. You hollowed out your cheeks instantly, tasting yourself and humming around his fingers.

“Who knew that such a brat would end up being so good for me.”

That wasn’t going to slide, and he knew he made a mistake when he caught the mischievous glint in your eyes mere moments before you bit down on his fingers. However, your plan backfired, and before you knew it, the same hand was wrapped around your throat again, anger written plainly on his face.

“I’m getting real fucking sick of your attitude, Y/n. You should be on your knees thanking me that I let you cum.” Your eyes narrowed, his words causing your own annoyance to ignite once again. “Actually, that’s what you’re going to do. Hands and knees.”

He released his iron grip and yanked you up to a sitting position, but all you could bring yourself to do was cross your arms.

“Let me? You’re the one who barged into my room and ruined everything.”

“On your hands and knees, now.”

Oh, this was too much fun. And you let him know so with a smirk curling on your lips.

“Make me.”

His arms were around you in an instant, hauling you up and effectively flipping you onto your stomach with a slight bounce off the mattress. Your hair caught around your eyes and in your mouth at how swift the motion was, and felt his hands wrap around your belly and lift up, forcing you to hold your weight with your hands and knees. Your own curiosity had you biting back your witty retort; you were intrigued to know if he would hold onto this dominant streak.

His weight left the mattress as you huffed in exasperation, trying to pretend you were growing bored even though you were anything but. And when you heard the faint unzipping of his pants, you couldn’t help but crane your neck over to where he was, catching him just in time to watch him free his length from his briefs and kick off his pants. Fuck, he was positively huge, and of course every single part of him was beautiful.

He vanished from your vision quickly and you felt him kneel behind you, causing your heart rate to quicken. However, he didn’t move to touch you.

“I’m growing tired, Samuel,” you pretended to yawn, “if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave-”

His fist was in your hair immediately, pulling you up so your back was flush with his chest.

“For the sake of both of us,” he hissed into your ear, “I suggest you drop the act, princess.”

Your world was spinning as he threw you back onto the mattress, one of his large hands splaying across your back and pushing you even further into it, causing your ass to rise in the air.

“You’re going to take what I give you.” A gasp left your lungs as his free hand landed a sharp smack against the side of your thigh, “And you’re going to be fucking grateful for it.” Another harsh smack, this one directly on the flesh of your ass.

“If you think for a second,” smack, “about spouting your bullshit,” smack, “I’ll make sure you regret it.” He began running his hand over the red, swollen skin, soothing the bruises that were sure to make their appearance tomorrow.

“Color?” Softness returned to his voice, the calluses on his fingertips lightly moving to trace your shoulder blades.

“Green,” you gritted out, “green, you fucking asshole, keep going.”

The dominance switched back in an instant, his hands flying to your ass cheeks and spreading you wide open. The display had you clenching around nothing, ever eager for him to finally fill you up.

“How sweet,” he cooed, gripping his cock and running the tip through your folds, gathering up your wetness and smearing it along his length, “she’s blowing me kisses.”

The words you were about to let fly caught in your throat as he slowly pushed into you, stretching you in a delicious way that your body had never felt before. The two of you groaned in tandem; you could feel him pulsating as he bottomed out, stilling for a moment to let you get used to his size. You hated to admit it, but it felt like he was made for you; no one had fit so perfectly inside you.

“Fuck, Y/n, you feel incredible.” His harsh attitude was faltering, you could tell, as he leaned forward to brush your hair out of your eyes, your head turned to the side with your cheek against the mattress. You would’ve found it endearing, if it were anyone but him, and you let him know that fact with a look of annoyance from out of your peripheral.

“Move, you bastard.” Once again, playing the game to get what you want. And with a hand pressing the side of your face into the mattress, he started on a gruelingly harsh pace that had moans tumbling from your mouth with reckless abandon.

The sound of skin slapping against itself filled the room, accompanied by Sam’s filthy words and your pathetic moans. He was drilling into you with every ounce of power in his body, and you imagined how heavenly he must look with sweat dripping down his chest and his eyebrows knitted together. You would’ve turned to look back at him had your eyes not been rolled back into your skull, your groans and pleas becoming an endless mantra that only spurred him on further.

Finally, he enveloped both of your wrists within a hand, tugging you upwards so that your back was sticking against his chest, the new angle causing you to yelp out a curse of his name. Your head lulled back onto his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to nip at your ear as he continued his murderous pace.

“Look at you,” he panted into your ear, “you’re cock drunk on me already.” He groaned as you twisted your hands free, snaking them back into his drenched hair. You could tell he was getting close to his release, his thrusts beginning to falter ever so slightly, and that thought had you clenching down around him, ready to drain him of everything he was worth.

“Shit, honey, if you keep doing that, I won’t last much longer,” he whined, trailing a hand down your front and settling to rub fast circles around your clit.

“Don’t-” you gasped, trying to get your words out, “don’t call me honey.”

He huffed a breath in your ear, “I think we’re well past that-” His circles quickened, your thighs beginning to shake as you could see your own orgasm on the horizon.

You needed to spur him on one last time. You needed him to continue his pace. You needed to get in one more jab before you both reached your end. And by some miracle, you found your voice.

“Fuck, Sam! God, I fucking hate you-”

His hips bucked and he let out the most obscene moan you had heard from him all night, one that would forever be cemented in your brain. “Fuck, say that again, Y/n,” he breathed, pushing you back against the mattress so he had more leverage to pound into you, fingers still working your clit.

Your eyes screwed shut as you gripped the sheets, the leash on your release about to snap.

“I-” His hand landed another sharp slap against your ass, causing you to gasp and clamp down hard on his cock, the words dying on your tongue.

“Please, say it again, I’m so fucking close.”

“Sam,” you whined, “I’m gonna cum, please keep going.”

“Say it,” he seethed, his pace not relenting even though you could hear him panting.

Tears were brimming in your eyes, and you could feel them spill over as you choked out,

“I fucking hate you.”

You could feel him swelling inside you, his breathing turning into pitchy moans.

“Where can I-”

“Inside, do it.”

That was the last bit of convincing he needed before he bent over you, sheathing himself even further as he spilled inside of you, a string of curses mixing in with praises of your name. Hearing your name fall so freely and adoringly from his lips caused your own orgasm to finally crash into you, turning your vision white and your ears to ring. You could faintly hear him hiss as you clenched and fluttered around his sensitive cock, but your body and mind were floating, skin prickling and tingling as he rode you through your high.

Hands massaging your shoulders kept you tethered to the earth, bringing you back into your mind as you began to settle, your chest heaving and your throat a bit hoarse from the volume of your moans.

“Come back to me princess, come on,” he wiped your brow, coaxing your eyes to flutter open. Once he saw that you were present in your body, he withdrew from you, causing you both to shudder and wince.

After a few long minutes of catching your breath, he stood, rummaging through the pile of clothes, pillows, and blankets that were strewn across the floor. Plucking up your sleep shirt you had been wearing not too long ago, he brought it over to you, kneeling on the bed to wipe up your mixed releases that had begun to collect on your thighs and bed sheets.

You hissed through your teeth; you were a lot more sensitive than you had thought you’d be, surely going to be sore in the morning.

“You really had to use my shirt for this? I have towels in the bathroom.”

He smiled to himself, an action he didn’t think you would catch as you watched him clean you up.

“Glad to see your attitude hasn’t changed.”

Once he was satisfied with his work, he shoved off the bed, chucking the shirt back onto the floor and grabbing his clothes, beginning to dress himself.

“Plus,” he started as he buttoned his pants, glancing at you with that nonchalance you hated, “now you have something to remember me by.”

You scoffed, not bothering to get into it with him in favor of watching him pull his shirt back over his head, ridding his hair of the tie that bound it. You were waiting for the self-loathing to set in; waiting for the guilt of giving in to your desires, but you felt none of it. Instead, you felt a tad grateful, in some messed up way, that he had caught you in the act tonight because it caused the two of you to release an arsenal of pent up emotions you harbored for each other.

Once he was dressed, he strode over to the bed and knelt down on the floor, choosing to smooth out your hair and trail his fingers down your spine. You hummed in approval, the slight massage lulling you closer and closer to sleep. His eyes shone with a new emotion; you couldn’t detect the same distaste that always was dancing within them when he looked at you. There was lust there, and a certain seriousness that you didn’t recognize, but you welcomed it.

He surprised you for one last time as he bent down and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, smoothing the skin with his thumb after he pulled away. You couldn’t help but smile up at him as he straightened to his full height.

“That certainly didn’t feel like you hate me, Samuel,” you called as you watched him make his way to your bedroom door, somewhat eager for him to leave so you could finally get to sleep.

“Well,” he breathed, sending a smirk over his shoulder as he turned the handle, “imagine being loved by me.”

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gretavanmoon · 1 month

Text

G13

Spinning Now: "Finish What Ya Started" by Van Halen (1988)

Pairing: Josh x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Description: You and Josh, your favorite new co worker, decide to share more than drinks as what started as a normal night turns into something you never expected.

Warnings: Smoking, Drinking, Cursing, Drug Use, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Oral M!receiving

New town, new job, new life.

That’s always how things went in the movies, and every time, the girl always got her happy ending.

How hard can it be, right?

After you’d managed to knock the first new off your list when you moved out of your ex’s house and to the next city over, the “job” part was next in line. After a week of filling out applications, you finally landed on the perfect selection, a serving job at Angelo’s Pizza.

You’d started this new job about about three months ago, and you finally felt like you were getting your footing with the flow of things. You’d been a server for as long as you could remember, but getting used to a new restaurant with new people and new menus and management could sometimes prove to be difficult. You were handling it with as much grace as you could, and the money was killer, so you stuck it out.

“You coming to the bar with me tonight?” your new favorite coworker, Josh asked as he stared into the kitchen from the expo window, rolling a pile of coasters across the countertop.

“Mmmh…” You mumbled under your breath. “I dunno, I’ve been here since lunch and my feet are absolutely killing me.”

”Ugh don’t be such a prude, Y/N.” He responded, taking a pepperoni and cheese in one hand, and a supreme in the other. “We’ll be sitting down the whole time. Ya know. In barstools.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “I guess so, but I can’t stay out late like last weekend. I open tomorrow.”

“Oooo, a clopen. That sucks. Well, I don’t. So I can get drunk, and you can watch me.” He flashed you a giant smile before taking off with the pizzas in hand, disappearing into the sea of people seated in the restaurant.

Josh had befriended you on your very first day, comforting you after your manager harshly scolded you for ringing something in incorrectly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He’d said as you pouted in the walk-in. “I still fuck my shit up all the time. The cooks don’t really care, plus if you mess somethin’ up, we get to eat the fucked up pizza.” That was the only thing he said to you the entire day, but it really stuck with you, immediately making you feel a lot better about your tiny mistake.

Now, after a few months of working side by side with Josh, you’d actually gotten to know each other fairly well, and you’d even go as far as calling him one of your good friends. You’d managed to get to know all your coworkers on a surface level, but Josh actually took the time to listen to you when you spoke, and showed real interest in the things you had to say, no matter how menial.

He was cute, and around the same age as you, but there was something about Josh that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was something that struck you, making him stand out from the rest of the guys you worked with. His aura pulled you in, and the way his eyes sparkled in the neon that covered the walls of the restaurant didn’t help the fact that he sometimes made your heart skip a beat. You decided that it was just his looks, though, catching you off guard every once in a while as you were around him more. Most importantly, he made you feel welcome. Like a good friend should.

The more you got to know Josh, the more open he became with you, and you quickly learned that his real personality outside of work was a little bit different than when you were on the clock. It’d become almost a habit, now, joining Josh at his favorite dive bar down the street when you’d both end up on the same closing schedule. It was like Groundhog Day, Josh would ask you to come out, you’d find an excuse to turn him down, but you always left Angelo’s with your hand in his as you tiredly dragged yourselves down the street. Sometimes other coworkers would join you, but it was always the two of you left shutting the bar down, joking and laughing with one another as you waited for your Ubers.

Josh was quickly becoming a norm for you. A fun, platonic norm. And though you were both flirty with one another, it never felt as though it would go past anything but that. Just friends. And you were very content with that.

So tonight, as things wound down and the patrons closed out their tabs, you felt as if you really could use a nightcap or two to reward yourself for not making even one mistake on your orders today.

As you tied the oversized trash bag closed, you met eyes with Josh as he skillfully swiped the mop across the sticky, sauce-covered floor.

He grinned when he saw you looking, making your stomach drop. “What?” He asked, biting his lower lip in as he staved off a full-on smile.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you roped me into going out again tonight.” You said with faux aggravation.

Josh sucked in his teeth as he plopped the mop back into the big yellow bucket, rolling it over to where you stood. “Actually, I asked you out with me tonight for another reason. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was gonna get absolutely shit hammered, tonight.” His tone was serious rather than silly, and you instantly felt like something was wrong.

“What’s the other reason?” You pressed, lifting the bag from the can. “Everything okay?”

He shook his head and swallowed, opening the double doors to the kitchen to go and dump his bucket. You followed closely behind him with your trash.

“Eh, not really. I’ll tell you all about it when we get there. Let’s lock this bitch up.” He flashed his eyes to the floor as he spoke, which was unlike him. He always spoke with such confidence and effortless ease.

The two of you finished up your closing tasks and said goodnight to the line cooks, grabbing up your things from your lockers and stuffing your aprons back inside. Josh was quiet the whole time, again striking you as out of the ordinary. You hadn’t known Josh long, but you did know him well enough to know that something was off, and he wasn’t handling it well.

“Think I’m going straight for liquor tonight.” He said as you walked arm in arm down the crowded sidewalk to the bar. He tilted his head back, blowing a puff of air above you, watching as the cold air turned it into steam.

“Damn.” You answered. “You must really be going through it, friend.” It was also unlike Josh to drink liquor; each time you were around him, he’d always chosen draft beer.

You both stepped inside the dimly-lit dive bar, letting the heat warm your chilly bones from the cold autumn air. You both took up camp on two stools at the end of the bar, closest to the back wall. The bartender Roy approached you, throwing down two bar napkins in front of you as you got comfortable in your seats.

“Evenin’, guys. Sex on the Beach andddd, Josh, we’ve got a Kolsch and a pale ale on tap, and also a—“

“Jack Daniel’s. Neat, please.” Josh interrupted Roy, causing him to contort his face with surprise.

“Been waiting on you almost five years and never known you to drink liquor. But, alright…” Roy responded as he left for a minute, returning and placing your drinks in front of you. “I’ll keep the tab goin’.”

It was silent between the two of you for the first couple of minutes, both of you sipping your drinks as you relaxed your muscles from the long workday. Finally, you decided you would have to be the one to speak first, for once.

“Okay, spill. What’s got you on the hard stuff tonight?” You asked, turning to face Josh in your stool.

He leaned on his elbow, his tight black t-shirt squeezing his toned arm just right. “I got dumped last night.”

You felt your eyebrows jump to your forehead. “What?! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Josh…I didn’t even know you had a—“

“Nah, it’s okay. I could kinda tell shit was going sideways, anyway, ya know? Almost expected it. But, still doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He disconnected his eye contact, tilting his glass back all the way and finishing off the last bit of his whiskey.

You were almost stunned speechless. You hadn’t seen Josh show any emotion that even came close to sadness before, and you struggled with how you were going to react.

Roy brought the bottle of Jack over, filling Josh’s glass with another two fingers.

“How long were you together?” You asked, tiptoeing with caution, given that he might not want to go into much detail.

“Four and a half years.” He said blankly.

“My god, are you serious?!” You choked out with disbelief.

He nodded hard as he kept his eyes trained on the bar in front of you, spinning his stool in tiny tight circles. “Yeah. Long time.” He sipped his drink again.

“I really am sorry, Josh. That’s a long time to be with someone for it to just...” You placed a hand on his arm as you spoke.

He crossed his arms in front of him. “Yeah, it’s fucked.” He growled, leaning back in his stool.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked.

“No, that’s why we’re here.” He slammed his hands on the bar top, motioning for Roy to refill your already almost empty cocktail.

Roy brought your new drink over, stirring the drink with the tiny straw for you. Josh lifted his glass into the air, forcefully clinking it against yours. “To moving on!” He said, finishing the drink off once again.

——

An hour or so later, you and Josh had managed to find yourselves significantly intoxicated once again, engaged in a deep passionate debate.

“Ever since they banned smoking indoors, the American bar scene has been fucked!” Josh drunkenly yelled overtop of the loud music and large crowd that had joined you inside the bar.

You had to laugh. “Josh, not everybody loves breathing that shit in! It makes some people really sick!” You challenged.

“Ah, hell. You come into a bar, you expect to be around smoke, all there is to it. All there is to it!” He crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders in defiance of your argument.

“You can go outside and smoke, Josh. Easy as that. Just get over it!” The two of you were glassy-eyed and giggly, feeling your liquor take hold of you as you talked. Josh brought about a warmth in you that you’d never experienced before, and you’d be lying if you said your…attraction? to him wasn’t amplified when you were drunk.

No, not attraction.

Something else…

You had no idea what to label the feeling, because you’d never felt it ever before. You took it in stride, though, embracing the completely new emotion as it came. It was almost like you craved his attention, and fed off of him engaging with you. You wanted to please him, but not in such a way that was sexual.

…You didn’t think.

No. You just craved his recognition. Wanted his eyes on you and no one else. Wanted to make him laugh, be the one who made him forget about everything else. It wasn’t a jealousy thing, it was a matter of possessiveness. You wanted to protect him like a best friend. And anyone who dared cause him unhappiness would have to deal with you.

Is this insane thinking?! Am I crazy for this? You drunkenly asked yourself as you washed your hands in the bar bathroom sink, giving yourself a disapproving look in the mirror. Probably, maybe…but he seems to feel the same about you... You had noticed that the second you’d inadvertently struck up a conversation with another guy at the bar, Josh quickly stole your attention away again, bringing up a whole new topic of conversation that had nothing to do with the last.

He charmed you. Drew you in. Challenged your thoughts and opinions…made you talk like you’d never talked before. Laugh like you’d never laughed.

“You’re really smart, Y/N. I didn’t really notice that about you, before.” Josh smiled as he leaned over toward you on the bar. His cheeks were tinted the prettiest pink from the alcohol.

“Uhh, thanks, I guess?” You chortled, feigning being offended.

“No I mean, you surprise me. Keep me guessing, every time I turn around. Never had a friend like that before. I’m usually so bored with everyone I meet. You make me like, think. Ya know?” He explained as you nodded sweetly in understanding. You knew you were blushing.

“Last call!!” You heard Roy yell across the still-crowded room. You made blurry eye contact with Josh again.

“Damn, we didddit agin.” You stammered. “Let me pay, you’ve had a hard couple’a days.”

“No no no, no you don’t. I asked you here, my treat. Plus, my drinks were fuckin’ pricey tonight.”

“But Josh, let me treat you, for once...” You jutted your bottom lip out as you begged him. You watched as his eyes landed on your lips, stealing his attention again. Suddenly, you felt excited.

“Alright, alright. But I’m leavin’ the tip.” He agreed. “I just needed some sympathy…that’s all I wanted tonight.”

“And you got it, didn’t you? You forgot all about your messy breakup?”

“For the most part, yes.” He laughed. “But I like to look at the long run, ya know? Like to take each step, one by one. Let myself live in the sadness.”

You scoffed as you signed your name on the receipt and pulled your coat on. “Psh, Josh, didn’t you just cheers me and say ‘to moving on’?”

He stood from his stool, wrapping his arm around your neck tightly. The smell of his cologne mixed with the remnants of pizza filled your senses, temporarily making you dizzy as he squeezed you in his grip.

“I did, Y/N, I did. But I’m also drunk, now. So. And also, I don’t really wanna go home yet. ‘M gonna walk you to your Uber then hit up Chauncey’s…they stay open ‘til 2.”

You turned in his grasp, your face within inches of his as he held you tightly. “Don’t go back out, Josh. No sense in drinkin’ your sorrows away by yourself.” It felt like you were outside of your own body; all you wanted was to go home and strip down and crawl into bed, but for some reason, your mouth told Josh that apparently you didn’t want to go home, either. “Come back to my place. We’ll have one more drink, and we can share the blunt that TJ gave me yesterday.”

“TJ? The linecook?” Josh seemed surprised. “You letting strangers give you drugs now, Y/N?”

“He’s hardly a stranger, Josh. Why, you jealous?” You teased, while also testing the waters of what the hell this feeling the two of you apparently shared could actually be.

“Fuck no, I’m not jealous. I’m…I…” Josh opened his mouth, but nothing came out after that. “I don’t know, I just—“ You were still tightly wrapped up in the crook of his elbow, his face so close to yours that you could smell the liquor on his breath as he struggled to speak.

You decided to save him. “It’s alright Josh. You don’t have to come over. I’ll smoke it allllll by myself…” you sneakily wrapped your arm around his back, giving it a couple playful pats.

He looked down at you through his lashes, his jaw clenched tightly together. “You really want me to come over?”

You nodded. “I do. Come on, it’ll be fun.” More than anything, you wanted him to know you were the reason he had such a good night, and the reason he was able to forget about his breakup.

“Okay, jackass. You talked me into it. Let’s go get high.” He released you from his grasp as you confirmed your Uber on your phone, and your overwhelming satisfaction of claiming his attention again propelled you out the door.

——

“Cute place. You decorate it yourself?” Josh teased as you both entered your apartment. It was only half-decorated and you hardly had any furniture, spending most of your days working and saving up money to finish furnishing it.

“Shut up, dick head!” You shoved him backwards as he laughed. “I haven’t finished making it cute yet.” You pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet, shaking the little bit that was left. “I know you’ve been drinking whiskey, but…vodka’s all I’ve got.”

“Ah, it’ll work.” Josh responded, plopping down on your couch. “M’already fucked with a hangover tomorrow, might as well do it up.” You caught sight of his pretty light brown curls sitting on top of his head, and you felt another rush of that strange excitement soar through you.

You made the two drinks and joined him on the couch, pulling the blunt up under your nose as you breathed in its earthy scent. Josh took the drink from your hand, raising his eyebrows as he watched you smell the rolled marijuana.

“TJ usually has good shit, I will say.” He winked, sipping his drink.

You pulled your feet up underneath you on the couch, scooting yourself closer to him. “Thought you said I shouldn’t take drugs from strangers…”

“I never said you shouldn’t, I just meant that next time you should get your weed from me.” He spoke without a care, taking the blunt from your hand and bringing it to his own nose.

“Ah, well I was unaware I could do that, Joshua.” You snatched it back from him, taking the lighter from the table in front of you and lighting the end of the blunt. You inhaled the smoke slowly, noticing that Josh hadn’t responded to you.

You glanced at him, finding the most devastating half smile on his face. You swore you felt your skin tingle.

“Did you just call me by my government name, Y/N?” He whispered, leaning his head down to you.

You exhaled the smoke you didn’t realize you were holding, nodding slowly. “Yeah, you mad about it?”

You passed him the blunt. “Nah, kinda liked the way it sounded, actually.” You watched as his lips made a perfect O around the tip of the blunt, and you found yourself wondering what kind of chapstick he used to get them to look…like that…

You felt your eyes grow heavy as your first hit found you, the THC entering your system quickly. Josh must have noticed, as he giggled at your appearance. “Told you TJ had good shit.”

“I swear to god I’m already fuckin’ high…” you laughed, taking another big hit.

“Mmm, no baby, you’re crossed. But not all the way. Yet.” Josh’s voice was gritty and buttery all at the same time. And the fact that he called you baby had you feeling that same feeling again. He calls everybody baby, though…all the girls at work…you’re not special.

The two of you sat and smoked until the blunt was a roach, and the air around you was thick with haziness. Your entire body was heavy and floaty, and you swore you could feel the blood pumping through your extremities. The conversation with Josh was so easy, so effortless, and the way the two of you held the complete attention of one another continued to astound you.

“So tell me about you. What’s your real story?” Josh asked, the both of you sitting facing one another completely, now.

You sipped your vodka drink. “What do you mean, real story?”

“I only know a little bit about you, where did you come from? What’s in your past?”

You took a deep breath. “Well, believe it or not, Josh, I kinda just got broken up with recently, too.”

“No way, you’re kidding. When? What happened?” He pressed.

“Ahh, about a month before I started at Angelo’s. I’m from about twenty miles away, up north a bit. Came here looking to start completely fresh. Still close enough to my family, if I need them. Ya know…” you trailed off. Josh’s eyes were telling you to continue.

“I got dumped, too. After a year of being with him. I thought we were serious, but apparently not. It didn’t hurt me too bad, I’m alright. Liking my new life pretty well, actually.”

Josh dramatically leaned back on the couch cushion, throwing his free hand over his face. “Ugh, god…how embarrassing. You handled bein’ dumped like a goddamned rockstar. I’m over here down in the dumps.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s okay, Josh. Four and a half years is a lot longer than one…”

“You’re right, I guess.” He sat back up, bringing his attention back to you. “So what was his reason? What was his last straw?” He asked, moving his face closer to yours. Your body was vibrating from the alcohol and the weed, and the presence of Josh sitting so close to you on your couch. You were positively buzzing.

“He uh, didn’t really give me one. Just said it was over.” You whispered, feeling your emotions flying all over the place. Josh’s hand reached up, twirling a piece of your hair between his fingers. “He also said I was a bad kisser, or something stupid.”

Josh winced at your words. “A bad kisser? I highly doubt that, Y/N…”

“And why do you doubt that?” You giggled.

“Because. I have a hard time taking my eyes off your lips, I can only imagine how hard it would be to take my lips off of them…” he smirked a little, laughing through his nose.

“You’re fuckin’ stoned.” You laughed, leaning your face onto his hand.

“And? I speak nothing but the truth, baby.”

“Mmmhm, yeah. Shut up.” You complained.

“I’m serious. I bet you really are a good kisser. That guy was just…stupid.”

“Maybe I’m a horrible kisser, how would I ever know?” You shrugged, feeling your body about to jump out of your skin simply from having this conversation with Josh.

He held his first two fingers up, motioning for you to come here. “Come on. Show me how you like to kiss.”

“What?! No, I’m not gonna do that.” You blushed, pulling away from him with shyness.

“Baby, it’s me. I’m just trying to judge your kissing skills. I’ll be completely honest with you, tell you if that guy was right or not.” Josh said, holding his hands out to the sides.

You stopped, staring at Josh through your slit eyelids, trying to figure him out. He met you with sincere eyes, and though you were both extremely intoxicated, you didn’t feel uncomfortable in the least.

“I’m serious. Just kiss me.” He said matter of factly. “S’no big deal.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the air surrounding you heavy with normalcy, but also heavy with yearning.

You slowly pulled yourself in closer to him, gently wetting your lips as your mind went back and forth on whether or not to do this. Your breath became a little chopped, nerves bursting through the wall of your drunken carelessness.

Finally you were close enough to feel his breath on your lips, and your hands naturally shot up to cup his jaw. He clenched it, his eyes falling heavy again as his breath caught. Your heart was absolutely pounding from your chest.

“Do it.” He whispered. “Show me.”

You finally let your lips press gently to his, your hands still cupping his jaw, as his hands sat comfortably in his lap. The feeling of them was exactly what you had imagined, soft, supple, and sweet, with the tiniest bit of sting on them from the leftover liquor. You finally exhaled, pulling away a bit to gauge his reaction.

“You can get into it, baby.” He smiled, urging you to push through your nerves. “I’m just here to help, s’just me…” his voice was like honey, the sound of it tearing through your body as he motivated you.

You leaned in again, this time letting yourself be a little more brazen, a little more steadfast as you worked to prove your ex wrong. Worked to impress Josh. Worked to show him. You opened your mouth a little, letting your tongue skirt across his bottom lip. The flavor of him almost knocked you down.

You began to get into it some more, letting your high take over, and letting your guard down as you found yourself really, really enjoying kissing him. You perched up a little bit moving to your knees to get a better stance.

“Mmmhmm… keep goin’ baby…” Josh mumbled when you broke away for a second. His words urged you on, and you felt brave enough to push your tongue further into his mouth, but only a little. You didn’t want to overwhelm, just experiment. His tongue met yours in the process, tasting each other for the very first time.

Your hands curled up in his hair, squeezing at the roots a bit. He let out a little whine, so quiet that you almost didn’t even hear it. It ignited something inside you again, and you knew you had to drive it home. Had to prove yourself. You pulled away for a second, hissing in air as you bit his bottom lip, pulling it out a little and making eye contact before pressing into him again, both of you moving in such unison that you were fully involved in the sultry kiss, now.

At this point you felt like you were teetering on the thin line of platonic kissing; you were still trying to prove yourself, but also…he tasted so good…

You felt the need to be touched. You reached down and grabbed Josh’s wrists, pulling them up to rest on you- one hand on your thigh, and the other around the back of your neck. You wanted reciprocation. He obliged, and as you licked into his mouth, his hand squeezed into your thigh, strong and needing. His fingers felt like burning embers on your leg, and you wished that you had changed into shorts when you got home.

His hand pulled at the back of your neck, burying your mouths further into one another. “Fuck, baby…he was wrong, you proved him so wrong…” Josh said, smiling against your lips as he delved back in. Your mind was swimming from his words of praise, and you decided that though this was simply an act between friends, you knew that you could kiss him all day long, never tiring of the feeling of his lips on yours. You were completely surrounded by him, by his warming presence. His scent, his sounds, his touch… It was all too much. You felt like you were drowning in him, but you didn’t dare try to pull yourself from his waters.

Your hands squeezed at his hair one last time as you let them drift down his cheeks and neck, tickling the back of his neck before rolling across his shoulders. You slowly brought them down to his pecs, and finally rested them on his cheeks again, pulling his face away from yours for a split second before landing one last peck.

When you finally disconnected, you took in the sight of him…hair disheveled, eyes black and glazed, and his hands still rested gently in the places that you put them.

“Holy fuck…” he breathed.

“Oh my god, was it bad? It was bad, wasn’t it? He was right, I’m a horrible kis—“ you were completely cut off by Josh’s lips on yours again, this time forcefully pulling you into him. This kiss was pleading, unbridled, and wanting, and each time you pulled away, you both were panting with want.

“What the fuck are we doing?” You breathed when you broke away.

“Kissing contest.” He answered, his hand respectfully staying on the back of your neck. “I think I’m winning, though…”

“Mmm, I don’t know about that…” you said with a bit more confidence in yourself after seeing how you made him feel.

“Yeah you’re right.” He agreed through an inhale. “You’re kicking my ass at this experiment.” He drove his tongue into your mouth again, but it didn’t make you want to retract…it made you want to pull it in further. You began to feel the heat that the two of you were emanating, and the sweat that was forming on your skin.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely turned on, but you would never let him know that. You couldn’t. You’re just friends. One friend helping another get over his ex by having a kissing contest. Makes total sense.

Finally you pulled away again, covering your mouth with your hand. You laughed, making Josh in turn laugh with you. “Well? What’s the verdict? Was he right?” You asked.

“Fuck no, he wasn’t right. You’re a hell of a kisser, Y/N.” Josh’s smile stretched all the way across his face, completely blissed out in his high. “God damn, you left me a panting mess, baby.”

Your heart stopped at his words, feeling more confidence in yourself than you’d felt in a long, long time. Suddenly, the wildest idea to ever come across your mind escaped right through your lips.

“Josh, we’re just good friends, right?” You asked.

“Yeah, baby. Real good friends.” He wiped his hand across his mouth before extending both arms across the back of your couch.

“Do you—do you care if I finish what I started?” You asked in an absolute moment of weakness. The look on his face turned up into surprise, and you weren’t sure how he was going to react to your question.

“What uh, what do you mean, Y/N?”

You moved toward him again, wanting to feel him again. Feel his hands on you again. Be the center of all his attention again.

“Can you judge something else for me, Josh? I’ve always wondered how well I…performed…and who better to be the judge than my very good friend? Who will be completely honest with me?”

WHO even are you?! You felt like a person outside your own body. The confidence he was giving you was…

“This ain’t no way to treat the broken-hearted, baby…” he replied, his voice a soft breath of air as his head lulled backwards. You paused again, unsure how to take him. “But I’ll be your judge…”

“Really? You will?” You asked, feeling vulnerable, but also wanting to show out for him.

“Mhm. If that’s what you really want…” He bit his lower lip into his mouth, letting his eyes fall onto your lips like they had been doing all night.

“Just friends…” you reiterated.

“Just friends.” He parroted, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand.

This was absolutely something you never did, and definitely wasn’t something you could ever even see yourself doing with Josh, of all people. You were supposed to be making him forget about his ex, letting him talk through it… hell, he was just dumped twenty-four hours ago. But there was something other-worldly spurring you on, whispering in your ear to just do it. And he was letting you. Was it wrong? Maybe, probably… but honestly, where was the harm in it? You were both obviously into each other, and as long as you were just making each other happy, you didn’t see anything wrong with it.

Besides, this new need to make him think about nothing but you at every single second was making your head spin, and you wanted his focus completely on you, right now. You moved to press your lips to his again, letting things naturally heat up so that you could continue on with your intentions. You took a deep breath, confidently removing yourself, and placing yourself in the floor in front of him. It was at this second that you were extremely thankful for your liquid courage, and the fact that you were too stoned to care about much else besides pleasing Josh. He almost made it easy.

“Ten.” Josh said out of nowhere.

“What?” you asked.

“I give your kissing a ten out of ten. Seriously.” He said, smiling from the corner of his mouth as he ran his hand along your arm, peering down at you as you kneeled on the floor.

You felt your face turn beet red, and you halfway didn’t really believe him.

“Stop playing, you don’t have to be nice.” You erred.

“M’not just being nice. Seriously, I rate it a ten.” He stated, and you knew by the sincerity in his voice that he was telling the truth.

“Wow. Didn’t expect that, honestly.” you pulled a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, you gonna finish what ya started, or not?” There was a darkness in his tone that you hadn’t noticed yet, and it made your stomach turn over with nerves. But even more so, it lit a fuse in your chest that was slowly burning, ready to explode at any given second. And with each passing minute, you wanted to impress him even more.

You maneuvered yourself on your knees, gripping his thighs and pulling them apart so that you could place yourself between them. Your hands stayed there on his legs, squeezing and kneading at his muscles as you moved your hands closer and closer to where you both really wanted them to be. You could almost physically see him getting harder through his dark jeans, and you could hear his breathing picking up, too.

You let your hands drift to his groin, squeezing the muscles there as he leaned down in his seat, giving you extra space as his head fell back on the cushions. You found the button on his jeans, pulling the fabric sideways and undoing the button with one hand and unzipping the zipper. “Damn, alright…” Josh laughed, holding his hands up. “Show off.”

You took that as a tiny win, and decided to keep it going, playing on his words from earlier. ‘You keep me guessing at every turn…’

You pushed your hair back behind your shoulders, and leaned yourself down, letting your mouth meet his boxer-covered dick. You nipped your teeth lightly at it, making him hiss. You could tell just from this little bit of contact that he was well-endowed, and you felt your mouth physically watering for him. You needed to taste him. Your lips bounced around, peppering little kisses all over… the indirect contact making his hips jut up a little.

You sat back, motioning with your hands. “Pull them down for me.” you demanded of him, and he gave you the sneakiest smirk, leaning back and pushing his pants and boxers down far enough to spring himself free.

You weren’t wrong. He was perfectly sized, and it reassured you that you were okay with going forward with this. What you did notice, though, was he wasn’t as hard as you wanted him to be. Your hands rested on his thighs again as you sized him up, licking your lips as you prepared yourself.

Josh had been the one urging you on all night, but suddenly, it felt like there had been a little bit of a shift. You finally brought your moistened lips to him, licking little circles around his tip, starting slowly at first, then picking up a little bit of speed. You swirled and gently suckled, and you felt him take in a big breath of air into his lungs. You glanced up at him, finding him looking up at the ceiling as he bit his lips.

“What’sa matter, Josh? You okay?” you pressed, knowing that you could stop at any second, if that was what he wanted.

“No, yeah. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just… this is the first time someone else…since…” he didn’t need to say anything more.

“God, yeah. I’m sorry, your breakup is so fresh, I’m sure this is more mental than anything, for you…” you agreed as you sat back. “We don’t have to–”

“No. Yes we do, Y/N. I’m just…” You could tell Josh was having a hard time with his words again, for the second time tonight.

“Just what? You can tell me…”

He swallowed, placing a sweet hand on the side of your face. “This is the first time I’ve um…been…with a woman…in a very long time.”

“Oh.” You muttered, his sentiment catching you off guard a little. You hadn’t realized you never even asked the name of his ex, let alone any details about the relationship.

“But it’s okay, Y/N…” He smiled, letting his thumb brush your cheek. “I may be wallowing in my sorrows, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want this, want you to do this. Just…in my head a little bit.” He admitted, putting a hole through your heart.

You sighed. “It doesn’t feel wrong?” Your voice was tiny as it escaped you.

He quickly shook his head side to side as he layed back on his elbow behind his head. “No. That’s what’s making me freak out a little, it doesn’t feel wrong in the least.” He swallowed. “Maybe I…Maybe I wasn’t as in love as I thought I was.”

You smiled a pitiful smile as you rested your elbows on his knees, taking a deep, recentering breath of your own.

“You’re really fuckin’ pretty, Y/N.” He complimented you out of the blue, his thumb still grazing your cheek. “And I’m really into you.”

“You are?” You asked.

“Yeah. I know we said we’re friends, but friends can do this. Right? Doesn’t stop the fact that I’m attracted to you.” His glossy words made your stomach do flips again as you realized maybe his feelings were the exact same as yours. Unexplainable, but still overwhelmingly good.

“Yeah. I really think friends can do this.” You agreed. And you were serious. If you were going to be this person for Josh, then he could also in turn be this person for you.

“Plus, the feeling of your lips on my cock just now…” He laughed through his nose. “Might be in competition with your ten out of ten kissing. And you hadn’t even…” He stopped there, biting both his lips into his mouth as he slid his hips down again.

Good god, you’d hoped he would have a little bit of a dirty mouth.

“You want me to keep going?” You asked.

“Fuck yeah, I do. I gotta judge your skill, don’t I?” He played, removing his hand from your cheek and running it through your hair. He gripped it a little, making you stiffen your neck. Your eyes flashed to his, and you didn’t even need to say anything, he knew what you meant. He nodded, giving you the go ahead, and you prayed that he wouldn’t remove his hand from tangling up in your hair.

You slowly leaned down to him again, starting things up just as you had before. Your tongue swirled on his tip, wetting it in circles as you let the saliva build up in your mouth. Around and around you took it, descending further and further onto him with every rotation. You heard him breathe out, his hips shaking a little beneath you. As you got as far as you could get, you pursed your lips down, tightening them around the base of his cock before sucking hard, pulling up and off of him completely. His hand tightened in your hair, showing you that he was liking it so far.

He let out a groan, followed by a little laugh. “Fuck yeah, Y/N…”

You quickly found a rhythm, letting your head begin to bob as you worked your tongue and cheeks, alternating forceful suction mixed with light little pops of your lips. His hips were jutting with every movement, and the sounds that were coming from him were enough to keep you going, keep you striving to impress him…

You took him in your hand, gripping at the base and using the saliva that had dripped down as lubrication to move your hand, twisting and pumping it. “Jesus Christ, you’re…” You took a second to glance up at him, seeing his jaw tightly clenched and his chest heaving with labored breaths. He brought his other hand down, pulling the hair that had drifted down away from your face, pulling it all back to the nape of your neck and holding it tightly there. You nodded, letting him know you were okay with him guiding your movements.

“Mhm.” You hummed on him. “Show me how you like it.”

He let out a choke of breath and readjusted in his seat, spreading his legs wider for you. He gripped a little harder on your hair, pulling you up and across his stomach, your faces almost touching as he brought his mouth close. He didn’t say anything, just hissed through his teeth as he scanned over your face. He then used a little bit of force to push your head back down to where it was, and you resumed your work.

Fuck, what the hell is happening… your chemistry with Josh was absolutely off the chain. You felt like you would follow every command he would ever give you, let him use you in the worst ways, completely trusting him to do as he pleased. You were absolutely yearning to satisfy him.

“I’ll show you exactly how I like it baby, but this is your show, remember? You’re calling the shots…” he growled, his voice deeper and more grating than it was earlier. You shrugged one shoulder, replacing your hand around his base. You moved it up and down opposite of your mouth, making his whole body start to shake. Your tongue worked on him, as your mouth drifted down as far as it could possibly go, with the help of Josh’s light guidance.

The weed had contributed to your slow, languid movements while the alcohol made your inhibitions fly out the window… the beautiful combo of the crossfade sending you both into a blurry and slow-motioned entanglement. You swore you could listen to his noises and praises on repeat. “So fuckin’ pretty, Y/N… so fuckin’ pretty…” He mumbled, lightly thrusting himself into your mouth as your neck began to ache a little. “Slow and steady, just like that…”

He puffed out a quick breath with a blow of his lips, and you could tell that he was enjoying himself just as much as you were. Normally, you would finish up the job, and expect repayment, but getting Josh to even feel the tiniest bit of pleasure at your hand was enough. It was that draw, that need to make him feel good. Keeping him and him only in the spotlight. And if you had to guess, you were doing a pretty good job at it.

After a few seconds, his movements became jostled, and his once slow grinding movements started to falter. You felt him start to throb in your mouth, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until he was crumbling beneath you, all at the mercy of your mouth.

“Hey, you want me to–” he said, suddenly shuddering.

You nodded again, pleading with him to let it all go. You wanted the whole thing, wanted him to have the full experience. You needed to see what he tasted like.

His breath started to pick up as he gripped your hair tighter, his hips pushing his dick further into your mouth as you let him graze the back of your throat, tears pouring from the sides of your eyes. “Come on baby, come on… just a little bit longer…fuck…”

Finally, he was letting it all go, filling up your mouth as you swallowed his bitter-sweetness down, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. His whole body went rigid as he came, shaking and jerking as you worked to make sure not a drop was left behind. You squeezed your hand around him, pulling him up into your mouth. His whines were like music to your ears, pathetic and pitiful as he worked to come back down to earth.

“Son of a bitch, Y/N… that was…” he said as you sat back up, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand. He caught your jaw in his grasp, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing you to open your mouth. He pulled you closer, bringing you in for a heated kiss that left you smoldering for him.

When you finally pulled away, you met eyes with him, and you could tell he was completely blissed out. “S’been a long time since I’ve had anything like that.” He admitted, pulling your back up to sit by him on the couch again.

He tucked himself back in his boxers but decided to forgo buttoning back up. “Really? Even in a four and a half year long relationship?” You asked.

“Ah, I dunno. We were long distance, so… it was few and far between but. Really I meant being with someone who actually showed passion about making me feel good. You know what I mean?”

You couldn’t help but smile. That was exactly what you wanted out of this. For Josh to feel that you wanted to be there.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I just…wanted to make you feel good.” You admitted, shrugging one shoulder up as you brushed your disheveled hair back into place. “So, what’s my rating, huh? Give it to me straight.”

Josh closed one eye and looked up with the other as if he was thinking really hard. “Uh, nine and a half.”

Your mouth fell slack, and you felt the soreness in your jaw joints. “Ah! Why the half?!” You argued. “Not a ten?”

He chuckled. “Would be a ten, but I only took away the half because I know that I won’t be able to feel you like that all the time.” You both stared at one another as you let his words sink in.

Could you, though?

“And because I feel like you were holding back, a little. Weren’t you?” He pressed. His statement took you by surprise, because he was right.

“...Maybe…”

“You shouldn’t have. It’s just me, remember. Guess you’ll have to show up and show out next time. See if you can get a perfect ten.” He said with nonchalance.

“Next time?” You spat without a thought.

He shrugged, squeezing his hand around your thigh. “Sure, why not? If you want to, of course. Might be fun to have a little situation we’re both comfortable with… no strings attached type thing…”

You ran over the idea in your head, not really seeing anything wrong with it. You nodded, agreeing with his outlandish proposal.

“But, there is one thing, Y/N.” He swallowed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. “Obviously I… um. I didn’t make you feel good, tonight. But, just give me some–”

You cupped your hand over Josh’s mouth. “Josh, honey, shut up. You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand, and it’s okay. If we’re gonna do this, it's all gonna be in good fun, right?”

He nodded from behind your hand. “Right.” He mumbled.

“And I certainly didn’t feel uncomfortable with you, so. I’m pretty positive we could just sit here and look at each other and we would have a good time.” You laughed, pulling your hand from his face. He caught your hand in his, and gave it a sweet squeeze.

“Not sure I’d be able to sit by you for too long without something happening. You’re a fuckin’ treat, Y/N. I swear.” His eyes traveled down your body again, and you watched his gears turn as his gaze drifted over your breasts. “Thank you, for tonight.”

“Thank you.” You whispered. “We still friends?”

He took your chin between his fingers. “Yeah. Good friends.”

As the air between you finally started to settle and the intoxication turned into sobriety, you realized that the night was nearly about to turn into morning. You didn’t have to be at work until 11, so you were going to be able to get at least a little bit of sleep before your shift tomorrow.

“It’s too late to get an Uber, Josh. Just stay here.” You more demanded than suggested, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and tossing it overtop of his lap. You stood, stretching your body as you made your way toward your bedroom.

“What, you not gonna invite me to your bed?” He asked, throwing you off.

“Uhh, I mean, sure–”

“I’m kidding, Y/N. We’re friends. Friends don’t sleep in beds together. Friends sleep on couches.” You watched as he burrowed himself under the puffy blanket and made himself horizontal.

“Maybe one day you’ll end up in my bed.” You tossed the joke over your shoulder, walking down the short hallway.

“And maybe one day you’ll get a perfect ten.”

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aflame4goinghome · 20 days

Text

Bad Reputation

s.f.k. x reader

chapter one

Series Summary: As a local jazz pianist in Nashville, you never fear being in the spotlight. Living in the same city, you’ve become very familiar with Sam Kiszka, a young musician who’s managed to gain a bad reputation in the city and throughout the country within his band’s fanbase. You’ve always just ignored Sam’s promiscuous and impulsive ways, but when you’re approached by the band to help repair his image, you’re given an offer you can’t refuse.

Word Count: 6k

Chapter Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex, mentions of smoking (tobacco & marijuana), flirting, arguing, sexual tension… you get it ;) (no smut… yet)

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so excited to share this series with you all. The idea came to me and I think it really ended up so good, I can’t wait for you to read it. Let me know in the comments or in my messages if you want to be added to the taglist for this series! See you soon :)

Listen to the playlist here :)

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

The club was dark and crowded as you entered through the front door and made your way backstage to begin setting up. Your shoulders brushed past other people in the crowd, making it difficult for you to get to the back. On your way there, you paused for a moment, deciding to stop at the bar first for a much-needed drink.

“Hey, Sebastian!” you said, leaning over the bar as you greeted the bartender. You’ve been playing here for so many years, these guys were some of the closest friends you’ll ever have.

“Y/N, hey! Need a pick-me-up?” he said, turning his attention to you fully for a moment as the bar was bustling with other customers. Better make this quick.

“Can I just get a double rum and coke? Only a little bit of ice in it,” you asked, smiling politely as he nodded and began making your drink.

You take a second to look around the club as you wait, feeling a bit nervous as you take in how many people are actually there. You’ve played big crowds before, sure, but tonight felt extra intimidating for some reason.

You had sensed for a few months now that your big break might be coming soon, at least that’s what you’d hoped. You’ve grown to be quite popular in the greater Nashville area, but your reach hasn’t gone much further than that. You hope to branch off and move to New York one day, to play there professionally full-time.

For now, though, you make your living by playing gigs weekly, posting your music online, and taking a few brand deals here and there. It’s working well, and you make enough money to get by, but you’re not entirely fulfilled.

“Double rum and coke for the lovely lady,” Sebastian said, sliding your drink across the bar toward you with a smile. You return his smile and take it in your hand, tipping it toward him as a thank you.

“Thanks, Seb. I’ll be back later, you know I’m gonna need it,” you muttered, taking a long swig of your drink before squeezing your way through the rest of the crowd and finally making it to the backstage door.

Pushing the door open, you turned the corner toward your usual dressing room and started to set yourself up. You take your coat off, place it on the small couch with your tote bag, and then turn to the mirror to touch up your makeup before you take the stage in 15 minutes. You hear the door crack open, so you turn your head to look and see who it is.

“There you are, Lucy!” you exclaimed, moving to the door to greet her with a hug. “Where the hell have you been? I didn’t see you at the bar before.”

“Sorry, babe, Seb had me refilling the kegs downstairs for him… lazy bastard,” she scoffed, moving past you to plop down on the couch. “That’s a man’s job! That shit is so heavy!” You chuckle at her, finishing off your drink and then turning back to the mirror to finish applying your lipstick.

“He’s building up your strength, Luce! What happened to equal rights?” you laughed, making eye contact with her in the mirror as she rolled her eyes at you.

“Whatever, Y/N. I don’t see you lifting any heavy things,” she mutters, crossing her arms and throwing her head back.

Lucy was probably your best friend in the whole city. You met her in high school, being in the same jazz band class together, and immediately clicked. She works at Seb’s jazz club part-time as a bartender and server, which is how you started playing there. You play plenty of gigs at other places too, but this place became your regular haunt, thanks to Lucy’s help. She asked Sebastian to give you a chance to audition 4 years ago, and you’ve been playing there ever since.

The two of you live together in a little apartment in Midtown, only a couple blocks away from the club. After graduating high school, Lucy decided to go to Belmont for journalism while you ended up just starting to work on your music full-time. You made ends meet and helped pay rent while Lucy went to school, and she’s worked to make it up to you ever since.

She’s in her last semester of graduate school now at Vanderbilt, getting a business degree with hopes of founding a newspaper of her own one day. At 24, she seems like she’s finally getting her life together, but for you, it feels like you’re only just getting started. You try not to compare yourself to her or anyone else, which was something your mother always nagged you about. You knew she was right, but you can’t help it.

Despite all of that, you’re sure that you’ll break into the industry soon. Seb had planned to hook you up with his buddy who works in one of the recording studios downtown to get you in and record your own stuff. He’s just waiting on your word to tell him that the album is ready, but you haven’t been able to finish it for the life of you. You’re not sure if it’s fear or perfectionism, but it just doesn’t feel finished to you yet. For now, you’re filling your time with gig after gig, hoping to find inspiration.

“Stop sulking in here and get back to work, I have to be out there in 5,” you say, turning around to give her a stern look. She scoffs at you and then stands up, walking out the door.

“Break a leg!” she shouts as she rounds the corner, leaving you alone once more.

You have to admit that you’re feeling nervous. You compiled a few originals to test out tonight with the crowd, hoping to get some excited reactions to some stuff that you planned to include in your record. You had a few classics in the setlist too, including your favorite arrangements of Misty and Lullaby of Birdland, to make sure that the crowd doesn’t get too lost. But you hope that you’re new stuff will keep them captivated.

You take a deep breath, brushing your hands down your dress a few times to straighten it out and taking one last look in the mirror before exiting the dressing room and heading toward the stage. You hear Seb announce your name as you turn the corner and stride onto the stage, flashing a quick smile at the crowd before sitting down at the piano.

The crowd hushed as your fingers plinked out the first few notes, and then you started your first piece. Your hands glided across the keys with ease as you closed your eyes, getting lost in the music. Your first original piece went off without a hitch, the crowd cheering loudly at your extensive solo. They were enraptured by the covers you chose and your confidence was truly shining brightly off of you.

The set ended as quickly as it began and the club erupts in applause as you played the last note and stood up to take a bow. You look out into the crowd and see your friends back at the bar, flashing them a wide smile. Your eyes pan across the rest of the room, seeing all of the people cheering for you. This was what you were made for, you were sure of it. This is what you’re meant to do.

As your eyes stop at the back corner of the room, your expression quickly drops when you see the group at the large booth. It was a group of men from a band that you were very familiar with, bumping elbows at all the music venues in Nashville. It wasn’t the band specifically that you had a problem with, but just one specific man who always gave you trouble. Sam Kiszka.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, flashing one more smile at the crowd before rushing backstage to your dressing room. You were so not in the mood for his antics tonight, not after putting on such a good show. The rest of his brothers, you could deal with, but not him. You refuse to let him tear down the confidence in yourself that you only just built up.

You grabbed your things in your dressing room and then hurried back out to the bar, needing to get a refill on your drink before even attempting to socialize with anybody.

“Seb– another, please. Pour it heavy,” you lament, resting your elbows on the bar and putting your head in your hands. You hear him chuckle as he starts your drink and you let out a low groan.

“I take it you saw them, then?” Lucy said, leaning against the bar next to you. You nodded as your head still sat in your hands, not bothering to look up at her. “Y/N, they’re really not that bad, I don’t understand what your problem is.” Your head shot up and you glared at her frustratedly.

“Not that bad? Sam takes every opportunity he can to belittle my music and talent every time I see him,” you scoffed, taking your drink from Seb and taking a long sip. “And when he’s not berating me, he’s trying to get in my pants.” Lucy rolls her eyes, stepping behind the bar to grab some drinks and put them on her tray.

“As if I’d ever stoop that low. That man’s been in bed with every single woman in Nashville. Probably even taken women, too!” you ranted, crossing your arms and taking another sip.

“Just ignore him, babe. I know the rest of them would like to see you,” Lucy said, lifting the tray to rest on her shoulder. “These are their drinks. Just come with me.”

She walks away with the tray toward the other side of the club to find their table. You linger for a moment and then let out an annoyed groan, throwing back another sip before reluctantly following behind her.

You followed Lucy with your head down, trying not to look too eager or willing to go with her. As you approached the table, Josh was the first one to catch a glimpse of you, a toothy smile growing across his face.

“There she is, the woman of the hour,” Josh remarks, opening his arms wide to pull you in for a hug. You accept, squeezing him tightly before pulling away. You smiled shyly as the others greeted you as well, except Sam, of course. He was distracted, seemingly complimenting the top Lucy had on. Barf.

She’d already been there, done that, which isn’t exactly surprising. Your best friend always had an affinity for one-night stands, never really wanting to settle down or get too serious. You never cared at all, until she told you one morning that she went home with Sam after a show one night. She promised that she didn’t plan to do it again, claiming she used him just as much as he used her, and you left it at that.

She kept her word, never going home with him again, but that didn’t stop him from flirting with her every time he came in here. You rolled your eyes as you watched him glance down at her cleavage subtly, but not subtle enough for you not to notice. He finally notices you standing there, turning toward you with a smirk. Here we go.

“Y/N… that was quite the set,” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to their booth. Josh and Jake excuse themselves to go outside for a smoke, and Danny takes a seat back in the booth, scrolling on his phone. Alone, great.

“Thanks, I think,” you say sarcastically, taking a sip of your drink as you look up at him suspiciously. You didn’t trust that look on his face one bit, and you were determined to find out what he was up to.

“Oh, that wasn’t a compliment,” he said smugly. “If you’re gonna arrange music, at least write a song where the chord progressions actually make sense together.” He raises his beer bottle to his lips and tips his head back to take a sip. You scoff at him, trying to take a deep breath before you blow this entire thing out of proportion.

“Samuel, you wouldn’t know a good arrangement even if it hit you in your smug face,” you bit out, still doing your best to hold yourself back. You swing back the rest of your drink, letting the cold ice hit your lips before slamming it down on the table next to you. “It was a B flat and E flat blues. Who crowned you the king of jazz composition?”

His smirk grew wider across his face as his back left the wall and he began to tower over you. You sucked in a deep breath, wondering if you should've just kept your mouth shut, but frankly you didn’t care. His long hair frames his face as he looks down on you, his eyes dark and cold.

“I did,” he answered, his face growing uncomfortably close to yours. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.” His tongue skims his bottom lip as his eyes bore into yours. No. No. He is not gonna win this round.

“Is that why you enjoy bothering me so much?” you asked, keeping your eyes locked on his, insistent on not backing down. His lips turn upward into a smug smile as he leans back away from you, placing his back on the wall once more.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just think it’s fun,” he answers, smirking down at you.

“You’re such a fucking freak,” you scoff, crossing your arms. You notice a change in his eyes at your words, and you start to wonder if you took it too far.

“You’ve got no idea, sweetheart,” Sam says, stepping forward again to stand over you.

“Gross,” you mutter under your breath, looking up at him, trying to keep a straight face.

“Now, I don’t think you mean that,” Sam whispered, leaning down further to speak into your ear. “I think you like it, actually.”

“You wish,” you state, still maintaining eye contact. His mouth twitches and turns up into a smirk as one of his arms snakes around your waist.

“All that blushing you’re doing says otherwise, doll. Even in this dark club, you can’t hide it,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. Fuck.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirked. You watch silently as Sam puts his beer bottle down on the table and then reaches into the front pocket of his shirt, pulling out a lighter and a blunt. “C’mon Daniel, let’s go outside.”

Sam shoots you a wink before nodding his head in Danny’s direction and the two of them walk toward the front entrance. They pass the twins on their way out, who both turn to look at you with puzzled expressions as they sit down at the booth. You sit down next to Josh as you try to adjust the annoyed look that is so clearly plastered across your face.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrow at you and taking a sip from his glass of whiskey sitting on the table. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, not even having an answer to give.

“The usual, of course. Can’t seem to leave me alone,” you muttered. The two of them let out a breathy laugh as Josh reaches over to put his arm around you.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him, darling,” he offers, smoothing his fingers along your shoulder. “It’s all just show.”

“For it just being show, it sure does feel pretty insulting,” you say, fiddling with your fingers atop the table.

“You’ll adjust eventually,” Jake says. “We like havin’ you around, so don’t run off just yet.” A smile grows across your face at Jake’s subtle attempt at an olive branch.

“I’ll tough it out, I promise,” you answer. You suppose you can adjust to Sam’s antics to spend time with them. You could use all the friends in the industry as you could get.

“How long have you been playing piano?” Josh asks, taking a sip of his tequila soda.

“Oh, I started lessons when I was 6,” you answered with a smile.

“That’s sick, I started pretty young too,” Jake replies, resting his arms on the table. Bonding with successful musicians has been your dream and the fact that you’re getting along so well made you really happy.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard! Believe it or not, I am actually a bit of a fan of your band. Casually, of course,” you smile, trying to be chill about it. It wasn’t entirely a lie, you are just a casual fan, but you’ve definitely watched an interview or two as well, leading to you knowing more about them than you intended to.

“Oh, yeah? Which one of us is your favorite, huh?” Josh asks smugly, raising an eyebrow at you hopefully. God, the amount of testosterone in this room could be cut with a knife.

“Hmmm… Danny,” you jest, elbowing Josh softly. The three of you break out into laughter before you check your phone to see the time. 12:32 am. Yikes, it’s late.

“Well, I gotta head out, unfortunately,” you say, standing up from the booth. Before you had the chance to walk off, Josh stopped you.

“Hey, uh, we’re gonna be in the studio on Monday for a few hours to work on some new music… would you wanna stop by?” Josh asked, looking up at you hopefully. “It could be a cool way for you to get exposed to how the recording process works.”

“Oh, wow, that would be incredible!” you smiled. “That’s such a kind offer, thank you so much! I’ll definitely be there.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the details,” he says with a smile, and you wave goodbye to them both and walk over to the bar to find Lucy.

“Ready to head out?” you ask, leaning over the bar toward her.

“Sure, let’s go!” she answers, turning around to grab her jacket and bag.

“God, I have so much to fill you in on…” you say as you walk out the door toward your apartment. You told her all about your brief run-in with Sam, and then Josh’s invitation to the studio as you walk down the street. She quite literally squeals when she hears the news.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N this could be it! This could be your big break!” she exclaimed as you turned the corner to the path to your building. “If you get in with their producers, this could really get you started! You have to make a good impression.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m freaking out! I really can’t screw this up,” you said as you turn the key in the door.

“You could never screw it up, babe. They’re gonna love you, I promise,” Lucy reassured you, hugging you tightly before branching off to her own bedroom.

All you had to do was get through the weekend, and then the day of your dreams will be all yours. Fuck, you don’t have anything prepared! As you shut the door to your bedroom, you rushed to sit down at your keyboard, turning it on. You pulled out your phone and opened the voice memos app, pressing start and then setting it down. You have to get a good demo down if you want to impress the producers at the studio and book a session there.

You spent all of Saturday and Sunday recording a few of your originals on your phone, taking dozens of takes to make sure each of them was perfect. This is it, it’s your moment.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Your alarm goes off at 8 am, giving you two hours until you’re meant to meet Greta Van Fleet at the studio. Josh texted you yesterday with the time and address, emphasizing that you shouldn’t overthink it. He knew that you’d be freaking out, and he was right.

You’re hoping that a cool shower will wake you up and help you shake the nerves off. You get up out of bed, rub your eyes, and then grab your towel and walk out of your bedroom to the bathroom.

As the cold water hits your back, you start to think over the day that you have ahead of you. If everything goes the way you planned, then you might leave today with a record deal, or plans to meet up to make a deal. You appreciated Josh’s help so greatly, you really weren’t expecting it. He’s always been so kind to you, more so than the rest, but you figured that it was just the way he was. Now, it feels like he really has your back.

All you had to do was make it through today without any incidents with Sam. You hope that the other guys have already briefed him and told him to be on his best behavior, but you doubt that he’ll abide by that. You can hold your own, though, and you doubt that he’d pull something too obscene while working.

After drying off and getting ready to go, you find that you still have about 20 minutes until you need to leave. To pass the time, you sat down in your bed and opened up Instagram to scroll mindlessly for a little while until you had to drive downtown.

As you scroll down, your eye is caught by a post by The Nashville Fiddle, which is a local magazine. The Fiddle posts mostly about drama and celebrities, and you usually ignore everything they post, since you try not to give gossip the time of day. But this time, your eyes were stuck on their post, with a video of Sam Kiszka, belligerent and wasted outside of a club downtown Saturday night.

In the video, you can see Sam flirting with a girl outside of the club when a big, burly man comes up to him angrily. Clearly, this girl was taken, and her boyfriend was not happy. You can see Sam hollering back at him, getting in his face as he slurs his words before the man takes a large swing at him. Then, you see Danny show up behind him and pull him back, dragging him down the street, far away from the scene.

How could he be so stupid? Flirting with girls with boyfriends is bad enough, but it’s even worse to get into an argument and get caught on camera. He should know that he’s a public figure and that people can spread this kind of stuff around. What was he thinking?

You check the time and see that it’s about time to go, so you grab your tote, pick up your keys, and then head out the door. As you drive downtown, you take a few deep breaths. It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself. Everything will be fine.

Soon enough, you pull into a parking spot in front of the studio and put your car in park. 9:59 am. Just on time. You get out of the car, throw your keys into your bag, and then head toward the front door. After opening the door, you walked in and told the person at the front desk that you were meeting the band, and they directed you to the right studio.

As you enter the studio, you walk in to only find Danny sitting there. He looks up from his drum set and waves, standing up to greet you.

“Hey, Danny… where are the others?” you asked, hugging him and then taking a seat on a chair nearby. Danny lets out a long laugh, trying to compose himself before answering.

“Oh, they are never here on time. This is considered early,” he answers, smiling widely as he goes to sit back down at his set. “I wouldn’t expect any of them for at least another thirty minutes, if not longer.” You laugh along with him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Ah, Josh should have told me! Now I feel embarrassed for being so early,” you say, looking down at your phone for the time. 10:11 am.

“Nah, he just can’t admit that he’s always chronically late. He’s in denial,” Danny jokes. “Do you want anything while we wait? There’s coffee and tea over there.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice actually,” you answered, standing up to walk over to the coffee cart. “I’ll be honest, I’m not much of a morning person.” Daniel laughs, standing up to walk over with you.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever met a jazz player that was,” he says with a smile. “I think it’s just part of your DNA.” You laugh, nodding your head in agreement.

“You might be right. It’s not our fault, we play at night!” you say, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

“Sam’s the same way, y’know. Stays up ‘til ungodly hours of the night, and then doesn’t roll out of bed until after noon,” he notes, laughing to himself. You laugh awkwardly as you add cream to your cup, cringing at the possibility of having anything in common with Sam Kiszka.

Almost as if he read your mind, Sam walked through the door, sunglasses blocking the dark bags under his eyes. He’s clearly hungover, rubbing his temples as he waltzes over to the cart and grabs the pot of coffee, pouring it into his own cup.

“Rough weekend, Samuel?” you asked teasingly, having already read about his escapades from this weekend. You can see his eyes roll behind the tint of the sunglasses as he takes a sip of his black coffee.

“Don’t start with me today, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pouring more coffee into his cup to make up for what he already drank, and then walking over to the corner to sit down on the sofa. He puts his feet up on the cushions as he takes a sip and then lays his head back against the armrest.

“See what I mean?” Danny asks, laughing as he walks over to his set and starts playing on his own, seemingly practicing. The idea sends a shiver down your spine. Could you and Sam be more similar than you thought? No, no way, you thought to yourself.

Not long after, Josh and Jake walk through the door and things can finally start moving. Josh walks over to make a cup of tea and then takes a seat on a stool, taking a slow sip. You walk over to him, hoping that his usual cheery disposition would calm your nerves.

“Good morning, lovely,” Josh smiled, patting your shoulder softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” you answered nonchalantly with a shy smile.

“Good. We’re still waiting for our manager, Jodie, to arrive, so just hang tight,” he says, taking another sip of his tea.

“Hey, you know what? How about you play us something?” he asks excitedly, his eyes lighting up. “Could be a good way to wake us up, huh?”

Your eyes shoot open, looking around the room at the rest of the guys. Danny is nodding excitedly and Jake walks over to his guitar stand, picking up his Gibson SG and slinging it over his head. Sam isn’t paying attention, his sunglasses have come off and his eyes are shut as he reclines on the couch.

“Well, okay… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you answered, walking over to Sam’s keyboard next to the drumset. You turn it on and adjust the settings, giving it a funkier sound before taking a deep breath and starting to play.

You decide to play Higher Ground, by Stevie Wonder, falling into the groove of the intro of the song as your fingers move across the keys. Danny’s face lights up as he listens closely to what you’re playing, then starts playing along. Jake follows suit, adding his guitar into the mix, and playing along with you. Of course, everyone knows Stevie Wonder, but being able to play with a band was just so cool to you.

People keep on learnin’

Soldiers keep on warnin’

World keep on turnin’

‘Cause it won’t be too long

Josh sings along, his voice fitting perfectly in the range of the song. The four of you are really grooving now, and it is so fun for you. It’s been years since you’ve played with others, and you loved it.

You watch as Sam lifts his head from the couch, opening his tired eyes to look over at you all. For a moment there, you almost think that he might be smiling, but you shake it off. You’re surprised to see him rise from the couch and walk over, grabbing his Rickenbacker off the stand and putting the strap over his head. Oh, he’s gonna play along…

Sam starts plucking his bass, along with the rest of the song. You knew that they’d all played in jazz bands before, and this song was a staple, but it surprised you how easy it was to join together and play. It was almost like you belonged there.

As you start a short piano solo, their manager walks through the door and sits down on the couch. She seems to nod at you to keep going, so you finish your solo and then end the song. You’re suddenly caught by surprise as Josh starts applauding, smiling widely as he walks over to you. He stands behind you, putting his hands firmly on your shoulders, squeezing them.

“You’re an incredible talent, Y/N, truly,” Josh remarked, smiling from ear to ear as he left your side and went to sit back down. You smile shyly and get up from the bench behind the piano to go sit down on the couch with Jodie. The rest of the guys start talking cacophonously as you start your conversation privately with her.

“It’s true, you’re really good,” she says honestly, reaching out to shake yours. “I’m Jodie, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh, you have? Thank you so much, it’s great to meet you. I assume it was Josh who told you about me, he’s the one who invited me today,” you answer, smiling shyly at the compliment.

“I first heard about you from Sam actually… he had a lot to say about your talent on the keys,” she says, catching you completely by surprise. Sam? Is she being serious right now?

“Did he now?... Interesting,” you replied, your tone feigning confidence. “Well, I’m honored to be here today. I’ve been meaning to finally get into a studio here in Nashville.”

“Yes, I heard from Josh that you plan on recording an album of original songs,” Jodie remarks. “I’m happy to have you here! Hopefully, we can get you to work a bit! Not to mention, it’s quite nice to have a bit more of a gender balance.” You laugh together for a moment before she gets up to greet the guys, going over the agenda for the session.

They go through a few new songs, trying to get it all down perfectly. You just sit and watch, absolutely mesmerized by watching the professionals work. You even escaped to the booth for a while to see the mechanics of the equipment, talking to some of the sound techs that work there. It was a really rewarding learning experience for you.

“Okay, that’s a wrap, guys! Good work today, we’ll be back here at the same time on Friday,” Jodie says. “Sam, can you hang back for a sec?” She walks back over to sit next to you on the couch, nodding her head to motion for Sam to join you. Once she’s certain that everyone else has left the studio, she starts talking.

“So, I’ve had an idea. Just hear me out,” she started, somewhat apprehensively. “Y/N, I was thinking about how highly the guys speak about you, and how much untapped talent you have.” Okay… this is getting weird.

“And Sam, I’ve been thinking about ways to improve your public image and get you out of your rut,” she finished, trailing off as she saw Sam’s annoyed expression.

“Okay, first of all, I am not in a rut,” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as he leaned back on the couch.

“That’s not the point,” she snapped back. “My point is that I think I might have thought of a way to solve all of our problems.” You raise your eyebrow at her, still not really understanding what she’s getting at.

“What could possibly solve both of our problems?” you ask suspiciously.

“Like I said, just hear me out…” she says, but Sam interrupts her.

“Jodie, just spit it out already,” he groaned, growing frustrated.

“I think you guys should pretend to date!” she finally spat out, looking nervously at your reactions. Your jaw dropped as she finished her sentence, unsure that you even heard her right. Sam, however, already shot up out of his seat and stood angrily above you both.

“No, fuck no, absolutely not. This is ridiculous,” he starts ranting, but she cuts him off.

“Just listen to me, Sam. You’d improve your reputation by having a charismatic and talented girlfriend, the fans would love her! And Y/N, you’d gain followers and fans for your music career, and our label can get you started in our studio. Boom, both problems are fixed.”

“No! How could I even pretend to be interested in him? It’s impossible,” you complained.

“Woah, okay, try not to sound too disgusted,” Sam said, crossing his arms with a scoff.

“Don’t act like you didn’t react the exact same way, you asshole,” you scoff, staring daggers into him.

“Whatever, it’s not the same thing,” he spits back.

“Whatever, this isn’t productive,” you admit, crossing your arms in your seat.

“Exactly. It won’t even be that bad. Besides, you’re both benefiting here! It’s perfect,” Jodie says proudly.

“Well, I don’t know about perfect, but I guess it does kind of make sense…” you muttered, looking up at Sam nervously. He raised an eyebrow at you, walking toward you.

“You want to be my fake girlfriend, Y/N?” he teased. You roll your eyes and stand up to be more level with him, hating him towering over you.

“Shut up, Sam,” you replied, a hint of pink tinting your cheeks as your eyes locked on his.

“So? You guys are in?” Jodie asked hopefully. You and Sam exchange a look, then look back at her and nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re in,” Sam answered, looking over at you with a smirk before walking toward the door. “Now, are we done here? I’ve got places to be.” You roll your eyes and reach down to grab your bag.

“We’re done here, go,” you mutter, slinging your bag over your arm. Sam walks out the door as quickly as he had came in, and you follow soon after him.

As you drive back home from the studio, you think about all of the day’s events. You almost can’t even believe that you agreed to be Sam’s girlfriend, fake or not. But you have to admit that it’s going to be great for your career, this is exactly the big break you need. You feel confident that her choice to ask you was based on your talent, so the unconventional means of gaining popularity didn’t bother you.

It kind of excited you to be included with such a famous rock band like theirs– going on tour, going to the studio, seeing the magic happen. Having to spend time with Sam was just the price you had to pay to jumpstart your music career and get into the music industry. You’re not sure what type of a commitment this arrangement is going to entail for you, but you’re honestly kind of looking forward to it. You have to admit that “Rockstar’s Girlfriend” kind of has a ring to it.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment or send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, or if you want to be tagged in all of my stories! See you soon :)

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kissingkiszka · 4 months

Text

Pickles & Peanut Butter - dad!Jake Kiszka x Reader

Requested!

words: 1k+

Summary: Just Jake being a wonderful husband and helping you through your pregnancy and domestic shit

CW: 18+, MDNI, pregnancy, fluff, domestic Jake, talks of body image, weird pregnancy cravings, fluff, I think that’s all

—————————————————————

Your third trimester of pregnancy was really kicking your ass. One of the biggest reasons that you were able to get through it was all thanks to your wonderful husband, Jake. He waited on you hand and foot and the never ending praise was enough in itself to keep you happy. You still remember the day you told him you were expecting.

...

"Jake-" you called out for him through sniffles. "C'mere."

He opened the bathroom door and immediately spotted the stick in your hand. He inspected it thoroughly, tears welling up in his eyes not long after.

"Wait- we're having a baby?" He swiped a tear from his cheek.

"Yes!" You beamed.

"We're having a baby!" He rejoiced. "You're going to be the best mama." He says as he bends down to kiss your still flat stomach. "Oh my god, I'm gonna be a dad."

"I've always wanted to be a mother..." you can barely manage to get any other words out. Your body is overfilled with happiness and emotion.

"This baby is gonna be the most insanely loved baby in the entire world. Our baby." He continues to smile through tears. "You've made me the happiest man in the world. First your husband, and now a father."

"Oh god. I can already picture you changing diapers." You cup your hand over your mouth and blinked back some lingering tears. "Doing all the dad duties."

"I gotta tell Josh-" he reached for his phone in his pocket to be stopped by you.

"Hold on, let's not tell anyone yet. We can surprise them."

...

He laid on your legs, his hands cupping your growing bump. He just finished giving you a well deserved and needed foot rub, one that he insists on giving you almost every day. He knows how insecure you've been feeling and does everything in his power to make sure you know how beautiful you are.

"You're glowing. You know that?" He coos. "Your stretch marks are so beautiful love." He tells you as he traces each one delicately.

You just stare at him in awe.

"We really made this baby together, huh?" He asks you, a wide smile breaking out on his face.

"Yeah, I guess we did." You laugh to yourself.

"I think I've fallen even more in love with you, and I didn't even know that was possible." As his words continue to butter you up, you feel your baby moving around. "I felt a kick!" He beams.

"Our little one loves their daddy." You smile, rubbing your free hand through his hair. "I think the little one wants pickles and peanut butter again, Jakey." You feel a kick as soon as these words leave your lips, almost as if your baby is agreeing with you.

"But you had that yesterday, baby." He speaks to your stomach with the biggest puppy dog eyes. He turns up to face you. "Okay mama, I'll make it for you. On one condition. If you let me try it with you." He smiles. "I need to see what our babies food palette is like." He stands up and makes his way over to the door.

"Deal." You place your hand on your stomach lovingly. As you go to stand, Jake rushes to your side to help you up. "Jake, I'm fine. However, your child has been kicking me all day."

"Oh it's my child now?" He laughs, realizing you aren't laughing with him and then immediately changes his demeanor. "I'm sorry. You're doing so well my love. Only a few more weeks. My superwoman."

He bends down to your stomach, placing a gentle hand on your bump once more. "Don't give your mommy too much trouble." He grabs your hand, not letting you walk down the stairs without him.

"Honey, I can walk down the stairs just fine. I'm only pregnant." You huff.

"Okay, okay." He let's out a defeated sigh, letting you walk down the stairs by yourself for once. "Just- go easy. You are carrying my child after all. Precious cargo."

You make your way into the kitchen, grabbing the peanut butter jar and the jar of pickles. Jake made sure to buy you a separate peanut butter jar, just for you to dip your pickles in. That had been one of the only things you had seriously craved the entire pregnancy. You dip the pickle into the peanut butter and take a big bite.

With your cravings satisfied, Jake does the same thing, following after you. He usually loves to try your cravings with you the first time you get them, but this one was just one he couldn't seem to get behind until now.

"Hmm..." he chews on the pickle. His brows furrow as his taste buds indulge in the flavor. You can tell he's not a fan of it, but he plays a good poker face just to make you happy. "Oh...it's uh- it's good!" He says, obviously faking it. He comes up behind you, wrapping on hand around your bump and grabbing your hand in his other.

"I love you darling. So fucking much." He whispers.

"Jake! Quiet! There's young ears around!" You slap his shoulder playfully, spinning around to meet his face.

"Oops! Sorry!" He shoots a hand up to cover his mouth. He laughs it off and then brings you into a kiss.

…

That same night while you were asleep, he ran out to the store and came back with a brand new jar of pickles and peanut butter. He placed them on your nightstand, leaving a little note next to it.

"My dear y/n,

I am so proud of you. Here's a little midnight snack for you. To spare you the trouble of having to rush to the kitchen in the middle of the night. But make sure to wake me up before you dig in. I live to share everything with you. Be it a pregnancy craving or an entire damn family. I'm here with you through it all.

All my love,

Jake"

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ageofnations · 1 year

Text

Carried Away // sfk

Summary: college roommates, friends to lovers

Word Count: ~8.4k

Warnings: 18+ only, smut with plot (and a shit ton of fluff), brief mention of insecurities, oral (f receiving), protected penetrative sex, let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: it’s been a while, i hope this makes up for it <3

“So you’re not going out or anything?”

He was scurrying about the room when he said it, which is why you almost didn’t hear the question in the first place. He was rushing in an organized frenzy, speaking around the toothbrush in his mouth while he slipped into the sleeves of his button-up. Over the television in front of you, you could hear the kitchen faucet turning on, the sounds of his brushing quickly accompanying it. You smiled at the mental image of him behind you, hovering over the sink as he prepared for his night out.

You never understood why he chose to spend his weekends like this, worried about who he’d see, what he was gonna wear, and what pick-up line he’d use first with the other partygoers.

“Nope,” you answered simply, snuggling a little closer to your blanket to solidify your answer. It was much cozier than what he was doing at least.

He spit the toothpaste out - an exaggerated noise that makes you wince - and paused. You imagined the stare he was giving you as he spoke. “You could come with me!”

You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt at persuasion, something you had gotten much too used to throughout your friendship. “And watch you get shitfaced and flirt with anyone that gets too close to you? Yeah, no I’d rather not.”

It wasn’t the first time Sam tried to convince you to accompany him at yet another party. It’s what he always did, on the weekends especially. When you’d try to hide away and catch up on assignments or much-needed sleep, he’d try to drag you out with him. You were beginning to wonder how he manages such a good academic status when he didn’t seem to be in college to actually learn.

He rarely knew what the occasion was that garnered the parties in question. Was it a frat party? What frat was hosting? A house party whose owner was unknown? A birthday party of a friend of a friend’s? The answer never mattered, but Sam was sure to be there. Said it “boosted morale,” whatever that meant.

There was only one time in which you fell victim to his coaxing. One night after a tough week where you were completely caught up, even ahead in some of the projects for various classes. You deserved the time to loosen up and stop focusing on your grades for once, and your roommate surely knew how to do that. He was your number one supporter when you told him you were considering his offer.

The night ended sooner than it began, with you leaving prematurely and telling him to call you when he needed you to pick him up. You tried to leave as quickly as possible, but not before you had seen his advancements on someone you knew was much less than what he deserved.

He was your best friend, and you couldn’t help being a little protective of him.

“Not my fault I have such a charming personality,” he called out.

That was one way to put it.

You couldn’t keep your eyes from rolling at his statement, but the sly smile on your lips showed that you were far from annoyed.

By the time he finished up at the sink, quickly disappearing into the bathroom to deposit his toothbrush, you were able to rid of the rosy color on your cheeks. But when he came back, you instantly felt the blush returning.

“You could at least invite someone over so you aren’t holed up by yourself on a Friday night. What about that friend of yours from chem?”

You tried to hide the fact that your eyes widened when you glanced up at him. He was only buttoning up his shirt, and you had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but there was something about seeing the tanned skin of his torso that would never get old.

Tearing your gaze away from him was the only way you could return to the conversation at hand. You had to take a second to remind yourself of who he was even referring to.

“Yeah?” You sneered. “And do what?”

“I don’t know. Paint each other’s nails and gossip or whatever it is that girls do.”

No matter how hard you tried to hold it in, a laugh escaped you. You hated how easily his comments could amuse you, no matter how immature. “You are a child.”

“Am not!” He whined defensively, letting out a laugh that matched yours. “I just want you to have some fun for once!”

“I will have fun. Right here on the couch with my shitty soap operas.”

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes at you, shaking his head as he made his way back to the kitchen and out of sight of you. “You could go pick up some more groceries. I used the rest of the almond milk this morning.”

You twisted your body so you could peer over the back of the couch at him, squinting your eyes in contempt as he nonchalantly sauntered to the cabinet for a glass to drink from. “So it sounds like you should go get some since you keep using it all.”

He waved a dismissive hand at you while he ran the cup under the tap. “Yeah, but now it gives you something to do!”

His head tipped back to take a quick swig before dumping the remaining liquid into the sink. You watched him continue to rush through the room, smiling at him stuffing his belongings in his pockets. “I’ll be back later tonight,” he promised.

“Call me if I need to pick you up.”

It was sincere, your offer. It was something you always said on nights like these, before he left for his next outing and you knew he’d probably be under the influence. He rarely took you up on it, always making friends with whoever remained sober enough to take him home, but he knew the offer still stood.

He also knew how you’d more than likely be asleep by the time he was ready to come home, and he wanted to avoid interrupting your slumber.

“Yes, mother,” he quipped, finally making his way to the door. He paused before stepping outside, long enough to shoot you a genuine smile and playful wink. “Bye, y/n.”

The break in his sarcasm made your face warm for the umpteenth time tonight. “Bye, Sammy. Have fun.”

The door was already shutting behind him as you heard him call out a faint “You too!”

And with a click of the latch, you were left alone in the living room you shared with your best friend, the soap opera on TV your only company.

————

Hours passed with no word from Sammy. You could imagine the fun he was having while you stayed glued to the cushion you sat on. You could see his smile as he flaunted his charisma to whoever would listen. How his pinkie would swipe across the bottom of his cup while he connected with the other partygoers. You knew he was having a good time, but for some reason, you still felt uneasy.

Your phone would wake you up if he called, but the idea of something happening to him while you were asleep worried you more than anything. It was your goal to stay awake for as long as possible, and you tried to do anything that would help you achieve that goal.

You hoped that a snack would give you more energy to endure the night, but you still found yourself dozing off. You even cycled through various channels whenever you felt your eyelids getting heavy, abandoning the series Sam left you with for a marathon of cheesy holiday romance movies.

It wasn’t long before you got bored with those though, the storylines much too repetitive and predictive. Soon enough, you couldn’t find an interest in guessing who the main protagonist would end up with or what the overall resolution would be.

But right before you let yourself succumb to your drowsiness, you heard the front door slowly open. You let yourself glance over at the doorway, the dim silhouette of Sammy barely visible from the soft light of the television.

He smiled once he saw you move, indicating he was waiting to see if you were awake before he spoke. “Hey.”

You returned the smile as a greeting, wiping at your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. “You’re back already?” you asked through a yawn.

“Don’t sound too excited.” He was smirking through his jesting, shrugging as he continued. “Party was lame, came back to crash this one.”

“Oh yeah, you certainly crashed this party. Soap opera and all.” You rolled your eyes at him, an action that seemed to be routine no matter what you were talking about.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have anyone join you for such a titillating experience.”

He was practically dripping in sarcasm, but that made you feel that much more endeared by him. He still hadn’t moved from where he stood, perched against the wall across the room. It looked as if he were studying you, surveying to see just how good your comebacks would be.

You shrugged. “No one wanted to gossip with me while they got their nails painted.”

You thought your response was funny, inspiration coming back from his earlier quip, but he looked past the humor. His face contorted into something that resembled disbelief, and in one swift motion, he pushed off of the wall and crossed the distance to you.

“Are you joking? I’ll volunteer!” He tossed his wallet and keys on the coffee table in front of you.

“Sam, what-”

“I’ll be right back.” And before you could ask anything further, he had disappeared into the bathroom. You heard him rummaging around in the drawers and cabinets before he came back into view, clutching all of the nail polish and supplies you own. “I didn’t know what colors you’d want so I brought the whole thing.”

“Me?”

He gives you a sideways glance, as if you both had been planning to do this all night. “Yeah? You’re gonna let me do yours too, right?”

“I- I dunno.” It seemed valid to be slightly taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm for such an activity. It felt strange for him to even want his nails painted, even more so for him to want to do the work to paint yours.

“Oh come on, it’s only fair!”

He placed the various bottles on the coffee table before sitting on the cushion beside you, never looking away from you so he could further drive his point. Chipping away at your resolve, piece by piece.

You raised an eyebrow at him incredulously. “Sam, have you ever painted someone’s nails before?”

“I painted my sister’s once for a dance,” he said with a shrug, turning so his body was facing you and his legs were tucked under each other. He continued once he noticed your criticism was still intact. “She didn’t ask me to do her nails after that.”

“Then no!” You laughed. “What color do you want?”

His persuasion didn’t stop there. He perused your collection of bright hues and dark shades, finally landing on a light green polish as his choice. “You’ve got to let me at least try!”

You decided to ignore his statement for the chance to poke fun at his selection. You twisted the bottle in your hand, looking at the liquid with judgment. “Snot green? Really?”

He shrugged. “It looks like Sadie.”

Sadie. The neon pothos plant that sat on a table in the corner of the living room, soaking up the morning sun that would peek through the curtains. It was something you came across during a trip to the local farmer’s market. A plant that was so low maintenance but somehow barely hanging on when you first laid eyes on it. Sammy had insisted that you buy it so you both could nurse it back to health, and within minutes, he was carrying it to the car and discussing potential names for the ‘child’ you now parented together.

The color of the polish did match the plant’s leaves almost perfectly, now that you thought about it, but you had never made that comparison before. It didn’t seem like a color one would want on their nails, hence why it was mostly full and barely used.

You shook your head at him while you twisted to face him, mimicking his position as you shook the bottle in your hands.

“What do I do with these buckaroos?” Sam asked, his hands waving around wildly.

You grabbed his hands just as he began to shoot finger guns at you. “Calm down, cowboy,” you said through a laugh. “Just- here.”

Searching for the best placement for his hands, you finally decided to place one on your knee and the other on your ankle. You tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach from his hands on your bare skin.

“I can’t believe you just referred to your hands as buckaroos,” you teased under your breath.

The taunt earned you a squeeze to your knee from Sam, who knew the tickling sensation would make you giggle. “Don’t act like you’re too cool for me, y/n,” he warned. “You’re the one who spends your Friday nights watching… whatever this is.”

You followed his eyes to the TV screen, focusing just as the characters had just shared a passionate kiss in the snow, its artificiality painfully obvious.

You returned your attention to the task at hand, readying the brush for the first stroke on his nail. “And you’re the one who abandoned your sick party to get your nails done.”

He scoffed, but in the end, he remained silent. And you took that as a win.

Doing someone else’s nails is much different than doing your own. It takes more focus, awareness of the other individual’s movements and tremors, and precision to get the task done just right. But luckily for you, Sammy didn’t squirm as much as you thought he would. He remained perfectly still so you could finish pretty quickly.

When the polish dried - thankfully not too long after you completed it - you smiled at the job well done, glancing up to the boy in front of you to tell him you were finished.

“That’s it? Oh, this should be easy, then.” He lifted his hands to eye level, grinning to himself as he surveyed the results. He leaned over to the other polishes on the table. “What color do you want?”

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

“In that case-” His decision was quick, and before you knew it, he was smirking at you and brandishing the same bottle of polish you had used on him just moments prior.

“Oh, not the snot, Samuel. You must hate me,” you huffed through a laugh.

“You don’t want to match me and Sadie? It’ll be like we’re one big happy family!” He seemed too excited for his own good, even if you were only half joking about denying him. And who were you to disappoint your best friend?

So you didn’t. You let him continue with the plan he was so enthusiastic about, watching as he eagerly unscrewed the top and got to work.

He had trouble finding the most practical placement of your hands, on top of the logistics of keeping the polish close without it being in the way. He tried to use the same technique as you, but it didn’t seem to be comfortable enough for him. Ultimately, you ended up holding the bottle in the hand not being painted while your other was held in his own.

With the proximity, you allowed yourself to take in the details of the scene. How his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes barely crossed in concentration. How the tip of his tongue would peek from his lips as he swiped the brush near your cuticles, careful to keep it as neat as possible. How his nose would twitch ever so slightly as if that was the only movement he could spare for the time being.

You also noticed some of his long, brunette locks threaten to shift from behind his ear, and you knew he was itching to tuck them back into place. Even his fingers were trembling a little, making you wonder if the task - despite being completely unnecessary - had made him a little more nervous than he let on.

It all would’ve made you giggle to yourself if you weren’t ordered to stay as still as possible.

“Stop staring at me to distract me.”

You tore your gaze from your conjoined hands to glance up at him again. It felt as if you had been caught in a bad lie, although it would be completely normal to ‘stare’ in this scenario.

Smugly, you answered with “I’m not.”

It wasn’t a lie. Maybe you were looking a little too intensely, but you were definitely not doing it to distract him. God forbid your nails actually look as if they were covered in slime.

“Well,” he said after rolling his eyes at you. “Stop it”

That made you giggle. The sense of frustration in his voice that you couldn’t quite find the basis of. He sounded almost like a child telling a bully to leave them alone.

“Do I make you nervous?”

You were mainly joking when you asked the question. Of course you’d like to know if there was even the slightest possibility that you affected him in such a way, but you weren’t brave enough to ask without the sarcasm.

But there was something about it that made him pause, the hesitation barely noticeable as he quickly returned to his duties.

“You wish,” he mumbled. “I just can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Shh,” he cut you off with a swat to your thigh, his own giggles filling the space. “You’re moving too much.”

You glared at him with a halfhearted pout, frustrated at his impeccable ability to change the subject so quickly. Deciding you’d lean into the childish act, you pointedly closed your eyes. “I just won’t look at you at all.”

Maybe you were being a little juvenile, but where’s the fun in maturity?

It would’ve been within his rights to get annoyed with you, but instead, you could sense Sam’s head shaking in feigned disapproval. His voice was almost fond as he chastised you. “You are infuriating.”

Eventually, after a few beats of silence between you both, you felt him twist the cap back into the bottle and remove it from your hand. You waited until after you heard the soft clink of the glass being set back on the coffee table. Deciding he had probably had enough of your act, you peeked open your eyes, chancing to stand down and let him win whatever game you were playing.

What you didn’t expect was to see his lips pursed and approaching your fingers he still held in his hand. You felt your stomach twist into a knot of anticipation and nerves, but it immediately loosened with the realization of what he was actually doing.

Sam blew a cool stream of air on your nails, drying the wet polish more efficiently. The sensation made you giggle softly to yourself, relief bubbling from you.

He paused his actions upon hearing the noise. “What?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but once his lips returned to his previous action, you dissolved into another fit of giggles.

“Y/n, what is so funny?”

“It’s stupid, really,” you squeaked in between laughs, shaking your head in an effort to compose yourself and dissuade his interest in your hysterics. Seeing his raised eyebrow, though, proved you were unsuccessful. “I just- it looked like you were gonna kiss my hand, with the way you had your… nevermind. Just forget it.”

Although you started your explanation with confidence, seeing his expression turn from confusion into something more devious made you second-guess yourself. If anything, you expected him to laugh it off and continue what he was doing. You did not expect him to look almost… curious.

It was as if you had taken him by surprise, but his initial shock had mixed with intrigue. His mouth opened, but closed to form a knowing smirk before huffing a laugh. “If you wanted me to kiss your hand, you could’ve just asked.”

Although you tried to remain unphased by his words, the teasing quality of them made your cheeks flame. “And why would I want that?”

A simple shrug was all you received as an answer before he resumed the task, looking up at you with coy eyes and feigned innocence while air fanned over your fingertips. You noted that his lips were significantly closer to your hands now.

Attempting to regain your footing, you tried to come up with a quip of your own. “I think you’re projecting,” you accused with a humorless laugh.

He rewarded you with an eye roll, a reaction you were hoping for. You hoped he would leave it at that, move on from the subject so you could have the last word. Instead, he added, “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it before.”

“About what?”

He chuckled. “About kissing me.”

You could only manage to scoff at him, in utter disbelief at where this conversation had gone. It was supposed to be a joke, just something else for you to share a laugh about. But now, he seemed completely serious. But he couldn’t be, could he? Not about something that would cross every unspoken boundary of your friendship.

And even if he was serious, you’d still never tell him the truth. You’d never tell him that yes you have thought about it, plenty of times. And you’d certainly never tell him that your thoughts have traveled further than just a simple kiss. Not about how convenient it would be to slip into his room when you’re lonely and searching for affection at night. How easy it would be to ease into a routine of spending countless nights cuddled up together, whispering sweet nothings and nuzzling into each other as you leave kisses across whatever skin you had access to.

He was just your best friend, but living in the same residence had only given you a taste of domesticity with him. The resistance to acknowledge your attraction was only made worse when you saw him with messy hair from a good night’s rest or bare-chested after his showers. His charm was inescapable now that he was almost always around you, but his natural flirtiness always made you question if you should try to escape. Or if you should consider leaning into the feelings that were brewing for him.

Of course, in an act of self-preservation, you made yourself avoid and ignore any pining you had ever experienced for him.

But you would never tell him any of that.

“Would it help you admit it if I told you I’ve thought about it?” The question broke the silence that had unintentionally settled between you. He could tell that you were thinking about something, and he liked the thought that he was the cause of your contemplation. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, though.

Once again, you tried to laugh it off. To stall and push another joke to escape the situation you had somehow gotten yourself into. “Of course, you’d think about kissing yourself, you egomaniac.”

For a moment, you thought you won, taking his laughter as a good sign. But you should’ve known better. “No, doofus. Kissing you.”

And just like that, the breath was stolen from your lungs. You couldn’t laugh anymore. You couldn’t roll your eyes. You couldn’t run from this. Not anymore.

Of course, you knew what he meant as soon as he said it, but something in you wanted to deny it and continue with your avoidance. But with it in the open, obvious and crystal clear, there was nothing left for you to do but face it.

“I’ve thought about it since the first day in Comms,” he started again, this time a little more hesitant and cautious.

The mention of the communications class almost made you wince - an introductory public speaking course that was required for all students to take. You dreaded signing up for it, and your hatred for public speaking persisted even after you passed with flying colors. But luckily for you, something good had come out of that class, other than a boosted GPA.

It was how you met Sammy, after all. Paired together for a collaborative project, you both bonded over your disdain for the class. As opposed to you, though, he actually seemed to have confidence when he’d present.

“You’d always chew on your bottom lip before it was your time to speak. That’s how I knew you were nervous,” he continued. The mention of your anxious habits made you realize you were currently doing exactly what he was speaking of: biting at your lip to quell the nerves. “You were nervous, but it was like you owned the room, when you got up there. Your passion was… unmatched.”

He seemed to be talking to himself as he reminisced, marveling at something you had never noticed about yourself. You saw him look down at your fingers that he still held in his hands, the nail polish surely dried by now. He had no reason for his grasp to persist, but he continued for the sake of fidgeting and toying with your hand as if it were natural to him. He huffed a laugh before he resumed.

“We were always assigned stupid topics, but even then, I couldn’t look away. And when I tried to focus and pay attention to the content you were talking about, I’d always get distracted looking at your lips… So yeah, I’ve thought about it a bit.” He spoke quietly, another breath of nervous laughter to punctuate. He chanced a look back at you, softening as he saw your watchful eyes on him. “You’re blushing, and that makes me think about it even more.”

It wasn’t until he pointed it out that you realized your cheeks were warmer than usual. You tore your eyes away from him and back down to his fingers.

He was right. Hearing his admission made you want to concede as well. And a deep breath was all you had to take before you muttered your own confession. “...I’ve thought about it too.”

“Will you let me then?” He didn’t miss a beat, seemingly eager to get the question out.

“Sammy…”

“Just once? Just to satisfy our curiosity?” His hands gripped tighter to yours, now completely holding onto them as if they were his lifeline. “And if you don’t like it, we don’t have to talk about this ever again. It’ll be like it never happened.

The sheer anticipation that was building in his voice made it obvious that he was being genuine, that he truly wanted this. But you still hesitated.

If something happened during the kiss, if he realized he didn’t like it as much as he expected, you’d still have to deal with the consequences. You may not talk about it, like he promised, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t bother him. As tempting as the offer was, you didn’t want to risk your friendship for a moment’s worth of satisfaction.

But it wasn’t that likely with a single kiss, right?

“...Just once,” you finally settled, speaking before you realized your mouth was even open.

You expected him to jump on the opportunity as soon as you gave him your consent, hungry and desperate to avoid you going back on your word. But instead, he was gentle, cautious in how he approached you.

He held a grin as he placed his hands on your cheeks, the skin of his palms somewhat clammy from being in contact with yours for so long. You watched with bated breath as he inched closer to you, trying to give you plenty of time to back out. But once he realized that you wouldn’t, he let go of all reserves.

Kissing him was a little different than you had expected. You imagined stiff and awkward, unnatural and abnormal. You imagined your lips as puzzle pieces of the same cut, destined to be in each other’s company but not necessarily made for one another. You imagined feeling icky and wrong before, during, and after the kiss ensued.

But this… this was unlike anything you could’ve possibly prepared for. This was easy. This was comfortable.

Out of your fair share of kisses, this was undeniably your favorite. And out of all of the ‘first’ kisses with anyone, you knew they could never compare to this.

It felt as if you melted into Sammy’s mouth, instantly falling under a spell that caused you to dissolve into nothingness. He wasn’t forceful in his approach, he didn’t try to take over, he didn’t proceed in a manner to coax more from you. He simply kissed you to revel in the moment. Just for the sake of kissing.

But just like all good moments, it came to an end much too quickly. The separation felt forced, as if he was reluctant to pull away from you. Which might have been why he didn’t put too much space between you when your lips disconnected. His hands fell from your face, landing to rest on your knees, but you were still mere inches from one another.

“Good?” He mumbled.

All you could do was nod, much too entranced in all things him. How he smelled, how his hands felt on you, how he kept shifting his gaze from your eyes to your lips.

He was holding back, trying to keep his promise of “just one kiss.” It was obvious to you that he didn’t want to overstep, that he was trying to follow your lead. But that kiss had sparked an overwhelming desire within you both, and you simply did not have as much restraint as he. All it took was one more fleeting glance at your lips before you found yourself leaning in to meet his again.

This time, you could feel his smile, the remainder of a laugh huffing from his nostrils. He seemed to find amusement in your desperation.

Although you quickly felt yourself falling into another daze, you were hyper-focused on Sam’s hands. Their placement. The way they had involuntarily twitched as soon as you kissed him again. How they had started to move up your thighs. How the tips of his fingers brushed under the fabric of your pajama shorts as they traveled upward and kneaded your skin. It wasn’t long before they found your hips and tugged.

You were in his lap before you knew it, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you tried to balance the push and pull of the kiss that immediately deepened. A gentle nip to your bottom lip caused a soft moan to tremble from you, making him chuckle and pull away again.

“Don’t get too carried away,” he mumbled against your lips, rushing to place additional pecks on the corner of your mouth.

You tried to match the sarcasm evident in his tone. “No, I’d never.”

“What happened to just one?”

“I’d ask the same to you- oh.” His lips had managed to travel down your neck, and a bite to your collarbone had led to your quip drawing out into a whine.

Kisses turned into lips lazily dragging across skin, soft grunts turned to deep, ragged pants. He was letting you take what you wanted from him, what you needed. He didn’t mind that you were unabashedly whimpering into his neck, he didn’t even poke fun at how your hunger had caused your hips to grind against him. It only spurred him on that much more.

His head tipped back as he let out a groan, muttering a simple “Christ...” as if he were begging the deity to give him strength.

You didn’t imagine God would be too happy with the acts being committed, if he were looking down on you right now, but Sammy’s plea seemed to work. His hands stilled your hips as he shifted, and promptly, you were lying on your back with him hovering over you.

You were feeling bold, and sure in your actions. So when his fingertips graced the bare skin that resided under the hem of your shirt, you let him remove it from you. But when he bent to kiss you again, you felt the cool metal of his necklace against your chest, and you soon felt much too exposed.

He felt your body stiffen, and he immediately ceased his actions. “Y/n, what-” he stopped his question as soon as he broke away from you. You had covered yourself and shielded away from his gaze, making him realize just what had caused your apprehension. “Don’t do that. Let me see you.”

Your wrists were bound in his hand and pinned into the cushion above you, a quick move that made you gasp and blush a deeper shade. His pupils were dilated, stare as stoney as ever while he admired you. There wasn’t a hint of disappointment in his expression, but the attention made you more nervous than anything. Your only refuge was to hide your face in the pillows cushioning the back of the couch.

But, of course, he didn’t allow that. After a sound of disapproval, you were pulled into another deep kiss. One that left you dizzy after he pulled away.

“Stop hiding from me, okay?” He spoke softly in your ear, careful to not sound too demanding or harsh. “It’s just you and me right now. You’re okay.”

You sighed as he pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, the hand not serving as your restraint moving back down your body to hitch one of your legs onto his hip. “Friends don’t do this, Sammy. I don’t want to lose you.”

You felt silly to be worried about such a thing when it all seemed to be one-sided, but the thought of losing him after a spur-of-the-moment decision made your stomach twist. It wouldn’t be worth it to you.

Without hesitation, he pulled away both of his hands from their previous jobs, letting them rest on your face to caress your cheeks.

“You’d have to be more than stupid to think you’re gonna lose me after this,” he assured, letting his eyes rake across your features with sincerity. His thumb swiped across your bottom lip just as he added, “And to think that we’re just friends.”

With his confession from earlier still hanging in the air, you shouldn’t have been as stunned by his words as you were. You wanted to believe him, but there was still uncertainty behind the thin line you so desperately wanted to cross. You could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into the worries that clouded your mind-

Hey-” he interrupted your mental anguish, waiting until he had your full attention and eyes on him. “Do you want me?”

You sighed, hoping to let go of the nerves that plagued you. “You know I do.”

Sammy smiled at the admission, seemingly more pleased now that you had said the words out loud. “Then you have me. In every way, baby. I’m yours.”

Yours. There was something so intimate about the statement, him placing himself in your possession. The knowledge that you would exist in his world, even when you were apart. It was more than you could ask for, yet everything you wanted.

The desire bloomed within you, and soon, you were no longer anxious to be displayed in front of him. Your fingers desperately clawed into the front of his shirt, pulling him back down to meet your lips again. It only took one tug at its hem to encourage its removal.

You sucked in a gasp at the feeling of his bare chest pressed against yours, a noise quickly swallowed down by the man hovering above you.

He seemed to be making up for lost time, each kiss telling a tale of its own and bringing you closer to him. Eventually, his lips traveled to graze the shell of your ear.

“What do you want?”

You sighed, the warm air against you sending shivers down your spine as you answered. “Your mouth.”

Without hesitation, he shifted and repositioned himself between your legs. His fingers looped under the band of your sleep shorts and panties, and after receiving a silent nod from you, he worked them both down your legs. His nose crinkled with a snicker, amused by your wiggling attempts to help him remove the garments. He tossed them to the floor and placed a gentle kiss to your navel as he moved to lay on his stomach.

The first flick of his tongue was languid, slow as if he were savoring the taste of you on his tongue. But soon enough, he found his footing and increased his intensity rather than speed.

You must’ve cried out at the feeling. Sam’s eyes had flickered up to you, peering through his lashes while he worked between your thighs. You were already lost in the haze of pleasure he was sharing with you. His wide, lust-filled eyes looking at you in awe, his hands splayed around your thighs and holding you steady, his perfectly sculpted nose dipping in and out of sight as the tip grazed against your clit. It was something you’d always imagined, but never believed would be right before you.

Your hand had traveled to his hair at some point, unbeknownst to you. Every tug causing a low hum to rumble from his stomach and against your skin, drawing you closer and closer each time.

You could feel it. The crest of the horizon in sight and in reach. But just as you were about to chase it, your fingers tightening in his hair, he pulled away with a lewd pop. The sound was soft, but audible enough to make your cheeks warm. Your frustration quickly surpassed any feelings of embarrassment.

Your head had been tipped back, and in the process of snapping your gaze back to him - ready to whine about his teasing - his lips crashed into yours again.

You couldn’t help but moan at the taste on his lips, a concoction that had only become more sinful as he savored you.

He was distracted, his mind drifting somewhere else while he kissed you. You could feel movement, as if he were rummaging through a crowded drawer for a specific item. The nerves that you had successfully shoved away stormed back to you, filling you with worry all over again. You gently broke away from the kiss, desperate to see what had occupied him so suddenly.

His hand was out of sight, in the pocket of his denim jacket that had been tossed haphazardly across the back of the couch. You heard the crinkle of a foil wrapper, and soon enough, he removed a small square package from the jacket.

The sight of the condom made your cheeks flush and your throat tighten, but you weren’t exactly sure why. It only took a few weeks of living with Sam to know all you needed to about his sexual habits. It made sense for him to bring a condom to a college party. But that didn’t stop the pang of jealousy in the pit of your stomach from the thought of his hands on someone else. He had never expected that you’d be the one under him tonight.

“You okay?”

His voice brought you out of the envy-induced haze you were in. You met his eyes, carefully studying you to make sure he hadn’t already messed up what had barely even started. You looked past your doubts and nodded in response, reaching for him to give you the condom.

He trusted you to tell him if something was wrong, but he gave a look of warning before handing the condom over to you. You knew he was not going to let this go, but you were thankful that he pushed it under the rug for now. You were much too embarrassed to discuss it now.

Sam was already working on unbuttoning his pants by the time you looked at the foil package in your hands.

“Didn't think you’d be a Magnum kinda guy,” you taunted under your breath, hoping to bring a sense of lightheartedness to the situation.

Instead, his hand was wrapped around your wrist in an instant, the sudden movement making you let out a noise of surprise. He pulled your hand away from its task and positioned it so the thin layer of his briefs was the only thing between him and your palm.

The thought made you shiver, but your cheeks burned from your previous taunt.

“Oh…”

He smirked at you, only a little proud of himself for making you discount your teasing. But through the smugness, you could sense a hint of bashfulness. And an attempt to remain humble through the ego boost you provided him.

You fiddled with the package as soon as you were released from his grasp, making quick work of tearing it open and retrieving its contents. By the time you finished, he had removed the remaining articles of his clothing.

You didn’t look up at him, and you tried to not hesitate to take him in your hand.

You relished in the way his silken skin felt against yours as you slowly began to roll the condom down his length. A soft moan escaped him, a sound of sheer disbelief and utter pleasure. His stare was unwavering, watching your every move. But once you tilted your head to look at him, he was already in the motion of leaning to kiss you again.

He used it as a chance to lay you back down and get you comfortable, using one of his arms to hold himself up and hover over you.

“Please let me know if something needs to change or if you want to stop, okay?” He panted, resting his forehead against yours. “I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

A loving smile crept on your lips as you nodded to him, giving a quick kiss to his cheek as affirmation.

He didn’t pull away to align himself with you. Instead, his cheek was pressed against yours as he slipped inside you, a low groan rumbling right at the shell of your ear.

At some point, your hands had wrapped around his forearms as a way to ground yourself. Your loosening grip was the only signal he needed before he began a slow, steady pace.

You tried to focus on the feeling of it all – the way his hips rolled against yours, the delicious tension that each thrust added, the grunts that would slip from his parted lips. But you couldn’t get past the simple fact that this was really happening. After all this time of imagining yourself with him, it was real. And it was so much better than you could’ve fantasized.

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him as close as possible and praying that he wouldn’t disappear. As if he were promising that he wouldn’t, he nuzzled further into your neck. The intoxicating drag of his lips against your skin made you whine, digging your nails into his back as if it were a reflex.

Sam sucked in a breath at the feeling, but before you could worry that you had hurt him, you heard a chuckle.

“Easy, baby,” he warned with a smile, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes. His had already flickered down to your lips before he continued. “Don’t wanna mess up your nails.”

It amazed you how easily he was able to bring you back down. Even in this situation, he grounded you and reminded you that he was your best friend. And all it took was a wink and a bit of banter.

He grasped the back of your knee, hitching it to his side and pushing even deeper into you. The new angle successfully drawing a mewl from you and pulling you out of your romanticized thoughts.

A hum of satisfaction shook from him, almost sounding like a hungry growl as his smirk widened. “Right there? Is that where my pretty girl likes it?”

Everything about the question flustered you, the phrasing, the pet name, the tone. You were nodding your head before you even realized you were responding.

“Just like that, yeah?” He continued. “Fuck…you feel so good.”

If it wasn’t for his pace faltering and his stumbling over his words, he might’ve been able to hide the fact that he was already close. Not that you wanted him to hide it, of course. Seeing him like this was everything you had wanted and more.

Sammy released the grip he had on your leg, his hand soon disappearing between you two. His thumb circled your clit with fervent hunger, as if he were desperate to see you writhe under him. The action made you cry out, his name slipping from your parted lips as a soft whimper.

“Shhh…I know, baby,” he reassured. He smoothed a hand across your cheekbone to wipe a stray tear before it could fall. “God, you look- so fucking gorgeous.”

He was speaking out loud now, voicing each of his thoughts as a way to bring himself closer. He wasn’t looking for a response, but the sentence rang through your ears the entire time he was above you.

The sound of each quickening thrust, the way his forearm tensed while he touched you, his hair shifting with every movement and deep breath. It all fueled the fire in your abdomen, and soon enough, you felt your muscles tighten.

He talked you through your orgasm with filthy words and sultry praise, coaxing you to give in to the pleasure and enjoy it for what it’s worth. His own climax cut off his encouragement, though, and with a huff, his head dropped as the pleasure overtook him. His body trembled with each remaining thrust, and as much as you wished you could watch him at his peak, your eyes were squeezed shut.

It took a while for you to come down from your highs, but eventually, his hips had stilled, and you had no choice but to be reined back in. You could hear that his breathing matched yours - deep, quivering breaths that shook throughout your bodies.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him smirking down at you, a cocky smile that was still kind and gentle in its own way. His free hand had settled on your thigh, his thumb sweeping across the skin to bring you back to him.

His chest was still heaving, and you could see stray marks up and down his torso and arms from you unknowingly clawing at him. Past the hints of your embarrassment, you sensed a feeling of pride. Seeing him above you, with marks that you made. It was as if you staked a claim on him, a mark of unspoken territory.

He was yours. No one else’s.

The thought made your smile widen.

Sammy chuckled at you, bending down to place a kiss on your jaw. “What’s all that for?”

With a laugh, you shook your head, not wanting to give him the benefit of knowing what was going on in your mind.

His teeth grazed against your neck before he began to leave sloppy kisses on your jugular. He only paused briefly to pull out from you, muttering a quick curse under his breath and returning his lips to your skin.

Your fingers had found their way back to his hair, playing with the locks of brunette while his kisses covered every inch of your neck.

As he reached the shell of your ear, he rasped a whisper. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

The question made your heart skip, but instead of letting it show, you grinned at him. “You already live here, Sammy.”

He pulled away from you, lightly slapping your thigh. “Don’t give me that, you know what I mean.”

“Ohhh, you mean in my room,” you said sarcastically, giggling as he rolled his eyes. You waited until his eyebrows raised expectantly before you stopped playing coy. “After you shower. You stink.”

He faked a frown at you before his smile broke through, laughing at your teasing. “If I’m taking a shower, you’re coming with me.”

He had already begun shuffling off the couch so he could stand. You instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, partially to cover yourself, but also to keep up the act that you had going.

“Why do I have to come shower with you?”

For a moment, he looked puzzled, almost as if he believed that you didn’t want to follow him. “Maybe 'cause I’ll miss you if you don’t.”

It was meant to be a joke, but you could see in his eyes that deep down, he really meant it. You were going to go with him anyways, but hearing his excuse made you blush.

“Sammy…” you paused, searching for the right response for something so silly. It was a small phrase, but you could sense the immense amount of truth behind it. “You’re so…soft.”

He smiled down at you, annoyed but enamored by your playfulness. “Anddd you’re done,” he warned, grabbing your wrist to pull you off the couch to your feet. “Come on, up you go.”

“Easy baby,” you mocked, repeating his words from earlier. You were in a fit of giggles as he tugged you to the bathroom. “Don’t wanna mess up your nails.”

Ahead of you, he huffed a sigh. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

You didn’t have to see him to know that he rolled his eyes at you again. He stopped in front of the bathroom door and opened it, placing a gentle hand on your back to usher you inside. “Yeah…I do.”

taglist: @gretavancreep @joshkiszkas @streamsofstardust @gretavanflipflop @stardustingold @tripthelight-fanfic @gmolszewski @poofyloofy @the-chaotic-cow @hippievanfleet @doodle417 @gretavanfleas @myownparadise96 @fireandsaltydogs @auroraseddie @meetingthestarcatcher @jakeyboiiiiiii @jakeydoesit @fan-girl-97 @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @welightthefire @maedesculpaeusoubi @josiee-gvf @brokenbellz @sammysvanfeet @haleylovesgvf @streamingcolors-gvf @prophetofthedune @groggyvanfleet @aconfusedhippie @star-lightsundrop @sammyslappers @agirlwithmanytastes @teddiie @gretavansteph @sammiejane22 @safarithong @tearsofbri @ashabeannn @Gvfvanfleet @Kerryxoliver @daniellefersblog @gretavanbitches @jordierama @alexxavicry @spark-my-nature @gardensgatedaisy @Jmksbuttsupremacy @shesawomaninadream @milkgemini @andromeda-raine-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @gretasimp @wingedgardener2000 @m3t4ll10n @courtkiszka @mweasley19 @fretaganvleet

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dailydoseofsamkiszka · 10 hours

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4/18/24

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka gvf #greta van fleet #gvf

26 notes · View notes

gretavangroupie · 2 months

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Edible

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Drugs. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink (if you squint), Cum Play. Major Fluff.

A/N: The very last part of our four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Jake's story to wrap things up! Thank you so much for reading these one shots over the last few weeks, maybe we will do it again soon! ❤️

Usually, Valentine’s day wasn’t a holiday that bothered you. As a single person in your mid 20’s, it’s almost expected that you dread the 14th of February. The years before and between relationships never bothered you, but as you slip into your pajamas at 7:50pm on a Friday night that also happens to be Valentine’s day, the realization that you’re alone hits a little harder.

You shuffle down the stairs in your slippers and matching PJ set, your destination being the bottle of red wine in the fridge. As you stand in front of the door and look at the dry erase calendar on your freezer, you avoid acknowledging the little heart you drew around the number 14 when you were clearly in better spirits. You also happen to see the little sticker that lives permanently above the column of Fridays. Trash day.

Letting your head fall back, you groan at the ceiling before turning on your heel towards the trash can. Lifting the half-full bag out and tying it off, you consider whether or not you really need to take the bin out to the curb… It’s so, so cold, and you’ve had a tough day already.

Shaking your head, you pull yourself out of your thoughts and decide to grow up. You get moving and elbow the door open, wincing as the cold air hits your skin. The short sleeve shirt and matching shorts combination are really not on your side at this moment as you jog down the four stairs towards the spot where your trash bins live.

It’s a minute of wrestling before you get the bag in and flip the top closed, grabbing the handle and beginning to wheel it towards the end of your driveway. The rattling of the plastic wheels is so damn loud you feel like you’re waking up half your neighborhood. Oh, wait. They’re probably all out for Valentine’s day. You can’t help but roll your eyes as you kick the bin upright and position it on the patch of grass near the curb.

As you’re about to turn and head inside, you hear rumbling coming from across the street. When you raise your head and try to focus despite the limited light from the streetlamps and the clouded moon, you see your neighbor from across the street. For a moment you feel a little vulnerable in your pajama set, legs bare and no bra, but then you see he’s shirtless, a thin bathrobe over his shoulders and down his back, but it’s hanging open, giving way to show you his tanned chest and stomach. His sweatpants are hanging sinfully low on his hips, and even though you’re all the way across the street, you can see there’s just a tiny bit of hair peeking out from above his waistband.

He has his head down as he does almost the same exact thing you did- he shimmies the bin into position on the curb and makes sure it’s closed tight, left with some defense against the wind. His hair is in a low, messy bun, some stray strands of hair framing his face.

As you stare at him from the shadows across the street, realizing you’re probably giving off way weirder vibes than intended, you think back on when you’ve seen him and try to remember his face. As you think, there’s a silhouette of a cat in his front window, a warm glow behind it. And then the memory comes to you.

There was one afternoon when you had first moved in, the summer, seven or eight months ago. He came and knocked on your door, a pair of sunglasses on, his shirt unbuttoned and paired with some breezy linen pants. You answered the door in confusion, but were friendly regardless.

“Hi. I’m, uh, I’m Jake. I’m your neighbor. I live across the street?” He said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Right, right. Hey. I’m Y/N.” You answered with a slightly concerned smile. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, um,” he started, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger as he gathered his thoughts. You watched as he crossed his arms over his chest in almost a nervous habit.

“Do you wanna come in?” You offered, but he shook his head no, waving you off casually.

“No, no. I actually just have a weird and maybe cumbersome favor to ask of you.” He said, his confidence building as the conversation went on. You raised your eyebrows, a little confused, but wordlessly encouraging him to go on.

“There’s this cat that lives in my house and I usually leave him with my brother’s girl when I travel, but she’s actually tagging along, so I’m kind of in a pinch and need someone to feed the thing.” He said. You gave him a look of playful confusion.

“That’s a weird way to say you have a cat.” You quipped, laughing.

“I’m not keeping it! I just don’t want it to get hungry or get hit by a car or something.” He said, laughing through his words. Before you can poke any more fun at him, he keeps talking.

“He’s a grazer, so he really just needs his big ass bowl refilled once a day and he’ll be fine,” he said, flashing you a little smile. “And water.”

You considered it for a moment, but he had such a way about him that there was no way you would be able to say no.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. For how long?” You asked, leaning on the door frame. He fished out a key from his pocket, handing it over as he spoke. It was brass and there was a little soccer ball keychain attached.

“Just for the weekend. I’ll be back Sunday night.” He said with a little excitement in his voice. Holding his spare key in your hand, you nodded and gave him a polite smile.

“I can do that. For sure.” You reassured him as he leaned from foot to foot, almost like he had somewhere to be.

“I fed him just now and I’m about to head out, but when you go in, the kitchen is on the left and his bowl is there. The food is in the bin with… with the food. It’s clear so… you can see it.” He said, taking a few steps backwards. “He also bites, but he’ll probably hide from you anyway, so don’t sweat it!” He added, jogging down the two stairs to the sidewalk.

“O-okay!” You answered, perplexed but charmed. He shouted across the road to thank you before he hopped into his car and backed out of his driveway.

When you eventually went over to his house the next day, you opened the door cautiously, not wanting to sneak up on the cat who you were warned would bite you. After a moment of wondering why you agreed to this, you shrugged and pushed the door open gently. As if the cat was waiting for Jake himself but then realized it was you, he went flying by so quickly you only heard the thump of his paws and the jingle of his collar. Your eyes almost immediately found the big bowl in the kitchen, sitting in the middle of a little placemat. ‘DAVY’ was etched into the porcelain, so you figured it had to be his. Like Jake mentioned, there was the bin of food about a foot away.

You didn’t see the cat a single time that weekend. Sunday morning, after you fed him the last time, you left the key on the hook near Jake’s front door and locked it from the inside. You didn’t hear from him, but one day when you got home from work, there was a bottle of wine on your welcome mat with a card underneath, wax sealed with care. Inside, you found a card with a short note of thanks and his name signed in indigo ink.

You’re pulled back to the present as a car flies down your street, headlights flashing in your peripherals. The light pulls his attention too, and it’s seconds before he notices you across the street. He raises one open hand, giving you a casual wave. You smile and wave your hand back and forth, a polite, neighborly greeting.

“Look at you, all dressed up. Big plans tonight?” He says, projecting his voice all the way across the street. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, realizing he’s absolutely calling you out for being outside in your pajamas.

“Oh! Ha. Yeah.” you say, the laugh incredibly forced, your nerves turning you into an awkward, stiff mess. Freezing cold, nervous, and a little embarrassed, you give him another quick wave and scurry inside your house, disappearing. You close the door and snatch the bottle of wine from your fridge, taking the bottle and glass with you into the living room.

You practically dive under the blanket on your sofa and wrap it around you in a hurry. As you reach for the bottle of wine and pour yourself a little glass, you hear your phone buzz from somewhere in the couch cushions. Fishing it out from under your thigh and some layers of blanket, you squint and turn the brightness down immediately.

You have a few notifications from instagram and other apps, and one text from an unsaved number.

???

8:08pm: Sorry for being weird, lol

It has to be Jake. You hop up from the couch and shuffle to the bulletin board and dry-erase calendar on your freezer to see the torn piece of paper pinned to it. Comparing the two numbers, you confirm it’s the same. That leaves you frozen as you try to figure out how to respond.

You

8:10pm: Oh no worries, you were right. I’m clearly staying in tonight 🍷

When you get back to the couch, nuzzling yourself back under your blankets, you look over your shoulder and out the window at his house. There are a few lights on and the cat’s silhouette has disappeared from the window.

You decide to save his number quickly before finally taking a few sips of your wine.

Jake - Neighbor

8:13pm: Likewise. I’m about to take an edible and spend the rest of my romantic evening falling down a youtube wormhole.

Laughing, you think of something clever to send back. It takes a while because everything you come up with seems to be toeing the line of flirty and friendly.

You

8:17pm: Sounds fun... If you open your curtains a little more I could probably watch along. 🙂

Jake - Neighbor

8:20pm: Or you could accompany me down said wormhole, meaning we both won’t have to lie about being alone on Valentine’s day tomorrow?

You’re immediately conflicted. This guy is your neighbor, and although he seems friendly, this feels like the beginning of a terrible Hallmark movie or even worse, one that went straight to Netflix. You think about the invitation as you stare at your glass of wine on the coffee table next to your kindle. It couldn’t hurt to just go hang out for a little while… right? It would be good to get to know him. Maybe you could convince him to mow your lawn over the summer or something.

Not to mention he’s cute. Your mind flashes back to the way he looked glowing under the streetlights, his messy bun and the tan line on his hips that you need to stop thinking about before your mouth begins to water.

You

8:21pm: Lol are you serious? I don’t want to intrude

You bite at your lip nervously, waiting for him to reply. The little bubbles that indicate he’s typing make your stomach churn as you look over your shoulder and out the window once more. There’s a little bit of a glow coming from the other side of his house now and you see his shadow move across the window.

Jake - Neighbor

8:22pm: It’s not intruding if I’m inviting you.

It doesn’t take much convincing on his end, if any. You down the last of your wine for courage and ditch the blanket on the couch. Heading up the stairs, you grab the cardigan you left hanging over the banister and pick out something to wear. The matching jammies clearly aren’t appropriate, but you don’t want to dress like you’re trying too hard.

You

8:25pm: Should I bring anything?

Standing in your closet for a few minutes, you ultimately land on a pair of yoga pants and an old t-shirt, a soft baby blue Rush tee with the band’s name spelled out in big, rainbow bubble letters. It was once your dad’s, but lives in your wardrobe as a slightly cropped version now.

Jake - Neighbor

8:26pm: Nope. Just yourself. Need the address? 😉

Pulling on the cardigan, you tug the back of it down a little to assure you’re not showing up with your ass on display from the get-go. You stand at the door with nothing but your phone and keys, bracing yourself for however this Valentine’s night is about to go.

You

8:28pm: I think I remember how to get there. I’m on my way 🙂

—

You pull your sleeves down over your hands as you climb the steps to his porch, the freezing cold wind whipping through your cardigan as if it wasn’t even there. You rap your knuckles against the wooden door, a small wave of nerves rushing through your body as you wait for him to answer. You hear his footfall against the wooden floors as he makes his way to the door, and as he opens it you feel a rush of warmth as the heat from inside blows past you.

His eyes subconsciously look you over and as he realizes he pulls his eyes away, letting them dart around for a few seconds before landing on your face. He offers a shy grin and swallows down his nerve. “Any trouble finding the place?” he jokes, giving you a small glimpse of his real smile.

“Oh yeah, traffic was awful...” you quip back, watching his full smile bloom across his face.

“Come in, come in. I know it’s cold out there.” he says, ushering you inside. The house is very different from the last time you’d seen it. More art on the walls, a new rug or two, and most importantly there were lights on. A fire is going in the fireplace, the logs crackling drawing you into his home further.

“Your home is beautiful. I’m suddenly insanely jealous that I don't have a fireplace.” you smile, gesturing towards the beautiful brick hearth.

“Thanks, I try to do what I can here and there. What’s a home if you can’t enjoy the time you spend in it…” he ponders, suddenly flicking his attention back to you. “I could…show you around if you want, it’s kind of a mess at the moment…” he pauses, rubbing his fingers over his lips as his eyes scan the room. You can tell he is feeling put on the spot and your chest warms at his underlying hospitality.

“That’s okay, I know you were totally not planning on having a guest.” you laugh, hoping to ease his anxiety.

“Yeah, I’m not here too often, and when I am, things kind of get strewn around and forgotten. It’s actually a fluke that I’m here now. Which brings me back to the part about enjoying the house while I’m here.” he says, trying to unnecessarily justify his lived in space.

Your mind wanders as you recall his empty driveway the past few weeks, and you try to piece together if you ever remember him mentioning what he does for work, or why he’s gone so often. You hardly ever see him coming and going, just the glow from his windows on rare occasions.

He pulls you from your thoughts and you refocus on him, realizing that he too, has changed into different clothes. He’s added a slightly wrinkled black button down shirt to a pair of equally as wrinkled khaki pants, rolled at the ankle. To anyone else this would seem like a strange choice to hang out on the couch, but on him it seemed fitting, almost like these were his relaxing clothes.

“Can I get you anything to drink, or?” he asks, gesturing towards the kitchen, a tiny little sliver of his stomach peeking from beneath the frayed hem, showcasing an unseasonably dark tan.

“Sure, um I will take some water?” you squeak out, trying to pretend you weren’t just staring at his waist.

“Okay, you can just… sit wherever. I'll be right back.” he says nodding towards the couch. He walks off into the kitchen as you venture into his living room, the fireplace providing the perfect ambience for such a cold night. His couch isn’t huge, but it does seem comfortable. A few throw pillows are tossed to one side, giving you the hint that he was previously occupying the other side. You move a few of the pillows towards the center and position yourself at the opposite side on the chaise lounge, as you let your eyes glance around the room. The walls are dark and covered with art, and bookshelves line most of the walls. A large TV sits just to the left of the fireplace, the video he was previously watching paused and awaiting his return.

You relax into the couch cushions, closing your eyes and listening to the perfect crackling sound of the fireplace. The glass of wine from earlier is seeping into your bones and you’re suddenly feeling just a little bit more relaxed. Jake returns a few seconds later, offering you a glass filled to the brim with ice water.

“I didn’t know if you wanted ice or not, so I just made it how I like it.” he says, falling back into his place on the couch. He tosses a few of the throw pillows between you, down onto the ground so that there is less of a barrier, before kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

“Where’s your little kitty cat?” you ask, turning to face him. “Or did you find him a home after all…”

“Who? Ol’ Davy Jones?” he asks, an air of underlying affection in his tone. “Ahh, that little vagrant is around here somewhere. Truthfully, I just haven’t even had time to think about finding him a home.”

You smile because you can tell he is lying. “That’s funny, because it’s been what? Almost a year now?”

“Has it… Hmmm.” he says, staring off into space. “I’m sure he’ll be around, he’s a curious little thing.”

“You know they say that you shouldn’t name pets that you don’t plan to keep…” you press, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Well…” he pauses. You can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to piece together an excuse. “He wasn’t responding to ‘hey you feline’, so I was practically forced into giving him a name. You know how these things go. I really am going to find him a good home one of these days when I have the time.”

You nod your head with a smile, as he shakes his own head, stifling back a guilty grin.

“So that is why he has a food bowl with his name on it, right?”

“Aye, aye, what’s with the twenty questions, hm?” he barks, tossing a throw pillow towards you. You catch it and hug it to your chest, resettling into your place.

“Oh, no reason. Just trying to get to know my neighbor and his cat, that’s all.” you say with a cheeky smile.

“He’s not my cat. He just lives in my house.” he says finally, feigning arrogance. “Anyways, tell me about you…”

“Not a whole lot to know, I just moved here, well almost a year ago now, for work. I go to work, come home, watch trashy TV and cook, and sometimes on the weekends I catch some friends at the bar. I also occasionally feed my neighbor's cat. Oh, and spend most holidays alone, which is how I ended up here.” you laugh, not wanting to give too much away.

“Well, I’m glad that you did, I’m rather enjoying having company for once. Listen, I was serious about the edible if you…” he trails off, nervously licking over his lips.

“Oh, yeah of course. Let’s do it.”

He stands from the couch, walking across the room and rummaging around in a backpack on the floor. The first thing he pulls out is an eyeglass case, tucking it under his arm. Then he reaches back in, searching for a moment more, before he pulls out a small black bag and returns to the couch, opening it up as he sits. He places the black glasses case on the table, then picks it up again, making sure there are actually glasses inside before closing it and putting it aside for later.

“Oh Jesus, Josh…” he mutters under his breath. He licks his lips and turns to look at you. “Okay, so, apparently they are peach ring gummies. My brother gave them to me, but didn’t specify the variety.”

“That’s actually fine, I love peach rings.” you blush.

“Really? Okay, good. I thought–” he stops himself with a smile. “Okay, ladies first, how much do you want?

“Um, how much are you gonna have?” you ask, letting your eyes flick up to his.

“Dunno…” he says, inspecting the bag for the details. “Okay, probably half. You think you can do half, or do you want a quarter?”

“I think it should be an even playing field, I’ll do half if you do half.” you answer.

“Whatever you say…” he says with a smile, trying to pull apart the sticky yellow and orange gummy. It stretches beyond belief and he stops. “Okay, so. I think you’re going to have to bite it.”

“Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal, you just take half and I’ll take the rest.” he says, leaning over to place it in your hand. You bring it to your lips, biting half of the gummy with your eyes locked on him. He doesn’t dare blink as he watches your mouth, the sugar crystals collecting on your lips. You see him swallow as you pull it from your lips and hand the remainder back to him. He quickly pops it into his mouth and starts to chew.

Both of you look at each other as you swallow it down, sour looks on both of your faces as the flavor of the strain shines through.

“That was… not my favorite gummy I’ve ever had.” he winces, clearing his mouth of the flavor.

“I think it was okay…I’ve definitely had worse.” you laugh, taking a sip from your glass of water.

“I can’t believe I traded my good blunts for that.” he says, thinking back with a shake of his head. “So, what do you think we should watch? A movie? A TV show? Youtube?” he rattles off.

“What would you watch if I wasn’t sitting here right now?” you ask, leaning your body into the arm rest.

His demeanor quickly changes, his cheeks blushing and his tone growing a bit bashful. “If you weren’t here? Um, probably just youtube videos.” he answers, reaching for the remote on the coffee table.

“Okay, but what kind of youtube videos? What fascinates you…”

He fidgets with the buttons on the remote, trying to decide if he should lie or be honest. His eyes flick up to the TV, then over to you. “Mostly history stuff, like old shipwrecks and stuff. Or maybe sailing videos or guitar videos, I don’t know.”

You can tell he chose to be honest, his fingers still scratching at the buttons on the remote as he waits to see what you’re going to say.

“Okay so do it. Show me your favorite shipwreck. Enlighten me a little…”

“Really?” he asks, a look of shock painted across his face.

“Yeah, why not? I like that kind of stuff too. It’s interesting.”

“Yeah, yeah it is really interesting. Okay, hold on.” he grins, clicking the remote to life and returning to youtube. He scrolls to his favorites and makes his way through what has to be a hundred videos, until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Alright, I know this is a little bit boring at the beginning, but I swear it gets better. I actually learned about this first hand at this little museum in the UK last year, and I really fixated on it, and had to immediately consume every piece of media I could find about it. If you hate it we can turn it off, it’s just… really cool if you can make it through it.” he explains, and you smile watching his eyes light up talking about it.

You smile and nod as he clicks on the video titled, ‘Ghosts of the Mary Rose’. He settles back into the couch, balancing the remote on his knee, and slinging his arm across the back of the couch. You can’t help but notice the proximity of his fingertips as they rest just inches away from your shoulder. The fireplace is still roaring, and the edible is starting to kick in, and you come to terms with the fact there is no place you’d rather be than sitting here learning about this old boat.

Oddly enough, Jake wasn’t wrong. This was one of the cooler shipwrecks you’d learned about, and the fact that he saw it in person made it even better. He proceeded to talk through most of the video, further extrapolating on the points they were making, but explaining them better, in a way that was so purely Jake.

It was clear history was a passion of his, his eyes simply glowing with pride as he spoke about what he knew about this wreck and others similar. You could tell that he was dying for someone, just anyone, to ask him a single question about it, and tonight, you gave him that and more.

You wondered if he had people in his life that indulged him on this regularly, or if he kept it bottled up inside. The way he spoke about it so quickly, stumbling over his words just to get them out, had you thinking that maybe it was the latter, and you suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of him ever feeling lonely.

After what had to be an hour or so, the gummy had met its full potential in your bloodstream. The two of you sat almost mute, staring at the TV screen as he selected videos for you to dive into, but little did he know that it wasn’t the TV you were fixated on. It was the glaring image of his hands as they reflected into the mirror hanging over his fireplace. You watched as they moved, the way his fingers wielded the remote, and the way his fingers would twitch every so often, quickly stifled back by the folding of his hands. You stopped yourself from turning your head to look at them, knowing that if you did you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away.

They seemed large. Slightly larger than the average man’s hands, but they also seemed well manicured. Perfectly manicured actually, as if they were his top priority in his grooming habits. His nails were perfectly trimmed, no nicks or cuts, just perfectly tanned hands that tapped away against his thighs. You pulled your eyes away from the mirror to reach for your water, the dry mouth starting to take effect.

You drank down half of the glass, and you could almost feel his eyes on you as you did so. You placed the glass back down, and allowed yourself one look at him, finding that you were correct in the feeling of his eyes fixed on you. His entire mood had shifted, you could tell he was feeling completely relaxed as he lounged on his couch. His eyes were a little red, slightly droopier than usual, and his cheeks flushed pink. His legs were crossed on the coffee table, and his bare foot bobbed along to the sound of the video playing in the background.

You’re not sure if it's the fireplace, the edible, or the man sitting next to you devouring you with his eyes, but you start to feel warm and need to remove your sweater before you burst into flames. You pull the knitted fabric over your arms, and toss it to the floor, leaving you in just your cut off tee, and you swear you see his eyes widen a bit as he takes in the sight of your torso.

In the silence, you hear a faint jingling. He doesn’t seem to notice, but you do, and your eyes shoot to the entryway. His cat trots into the room, probably only expecting Jake, but as soon as he lays eyes on you, he puffs up and hops straight up into the air, then bolts back the way he came, his paws skittering across the floor in a flurry.

The sound makes Jake’s head turn, pulling his eyes from your body and over towards the source of the noise.

“Oh my god, he’s real…” You say in amazement, a smile creeping onto your lips. Jake rolls his eyes at the cat’s dramatics, leaning back to see if he can catch where he went.

“Daaaavvvyyyy…” he calls out in a faux-cockney accent, his voice low and gravelly, rumbling through the house. You would be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make your stomach flip.

“He’s not a fan of me, I don’t think.” You comment, looking in the direction the tiny black cat ran.

“Don’t think he likes anyone but me, honestly. Bites and scratches the absolute hell out of my brother’s girlfriend whenever she watches him for me.” He says with a chuckle, craning his neck to try and see the cat. He makes a quiet pspspsps sound, but Davy is nowhere to be seen or heard.

“When I found ‘em, he was under a dumpster behind a… a bar.” He says, sitting back up to look at you. “He was practically shouting at me as I walked by, like he was calling for help. So I walked over thinking it was like, a fuckin’ baby or something. I don’t know.”

You grin as he tells the story, which you’re finding quite endearing.

“He called you over? Oh, he’s bold.”

“Sure is. So I wrapped him up in my shirt and put him in the passenger seat… he seemed too little to eat the crunchy little cat food, so I went to the store and got some milk… I didn’t fuckin’ know what to do.” He chuckles and itches his nose, his eyes flicking to yours as he realizes you’re invested in the story and listening with bated breath.

“We got home and he drank some… had a little milk mustache and everything. He seemed to feel better when I got him into the heat, so I made him a deal. He could sleep in the bathroom for the night if he hit the road and left town the next morning.”

“I see that worked out.” You quip, giving him a knowing smile.

“Yeah, the five-pound rapscallion didn’t hold up his end. Owes me a thousand souls now.”

You hum with raised brows as you nod, letting him go on.

“I actually…” he starts, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket he taps and scrolls as he talks. “I actually woke up the next morning and caught the poor thing asleep in a pair of me old dirty trousers.” He says, a little bit of that accent slipping in again. He turns his phone around and shows you a photo of Davy curled into a tiny ball inside a pair of patchwork denim pants, a few different shades of blue.

“Oh my god…” you mumble, popping out your bottom lip.

“Lookit his tail over his nose. How was I supposed to show ‘em the door?” He says, flashing you a grin.

“But you’re still gonna rehome him, huh?” You shoot in his direction, your tone accusatory.

“Should we watch something else? Got any requests?” he asks, gesturing toward the TV with the remote.

“Mmm, you said you liked guitar videos, right? What’s your favorite guitar video of all time?” you ask, crossing your ankles as you stretch out on the chaise.

“That is quite the loaded question, lass.” he quips, tapping the remote to his lips. His full, pink, totally kissable lips. Wait, he’s your neighbor. You have to stop.

“Can you narrow it down to a genre?” he asks, flicking his eyes over to you. He takes a deep breath and bites his lips together waiting for your answer.

“How about…I don’t know, rock? Rock n’ Roll, specifically.” you smirk.

“I know a thing or two.” he chuckles, scrolling through his favorites.

“Ahh, okay this one. This one right here. This man was instrumental in my–” he stops, clearing his throat. “He is one of the greatest musicians I’ve ever witnessed.” he finishes.

“Oh, who is it?” you ask, watching him select the video.

“Pete Townshend.” he answers, starting the video. “He is an incredible guitarist, but that isn’t what makes him great in my opinion. He has this special ability to write insanely powerful rock songs where the guitar isn’t the main focus, or even the main instrument. His work with The Who is just… He isn’t flashy just for the show of it, because he didn’t have to be. His skill speaks for itself and that in itself is an accomplishment.”

“Wow, you know a lot about him. Would you say he is your favorite, then?” you ask.

“Ahh, I don’t know. I have a lot of favorites. A lot of influences I suppose. Lots of people who shaped me.” he answers, and slowly but surely you start to realize he is letting you know him more and more with each passing second, and you’re hanging on his every word.

“Shaped you?” you ask, trying to squeeze yourself through the tiny crack in his armor.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom. You need anything while I’m up?” he says, standing up slowly and effectively shutting you out. His half smile is a little guilty, which tells you he’s well aware of what he just did.

“I’m okay.” You answer, giving him a knowing smile as he shuffles out of the room, the sound of his bare feet on the hardwood the only sound under the music playing quietly from the tv.

It’s a minute or two before he gets back and this time when he comes to sit on the couch, he lays across the cushions on his stomach, grabbing the pillow to your left and tucking it between his arm and his head. He’s so, so close to you now, the smell of his shampoo making its way over to you when he nuzzles his head against the pillow. Once he’s completely comfortable, he takes a deep breath and then speaks softly.

“I’m a musician. So. When I said ‘shaped me,’ I meant it almost literally.” His voice sounds a little different when his cheek is smushed into the throw pillow.

“So I’m guessing you play guitar?” you say, blinking up at the TV as the man on the screen’s fingers crawl across the frets.

“I do.” He says it simply, but not in a way that’s short. You look down at his right hand, bent at the elbow and holding on to the pillow. At this distance, you can see there’s a little indent around his middle finger, like he wears a ring of some sort.

“I don’t really have any… creative talents. So I think that’s really impressive.” Your words are quiet and you’re trying to coax him back out of his shell. He lifts his head from the pillow, and when he’s looking up at you from below, his glassy brown eyes are enough to make your heart melt. You have to blink a few times through the brain fog to really focus on them, and when you do, your pulse quickens.

“I’m sure that’s not true. What do you do?” He asks softly, and luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re staring at him.

“It’s very true. I’m an accountant.” You answer, laugh bubbling out of you at the absurdity of it all. “Literally the opposite of creative.”

He breaks into a grin, laughing with you for a second or two, and you think it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

“...Alright. You got me there. We can watch something else…” He says, looking for the remote, and you mourn the loss of eye contact.

“No, no! I wanted you to pick something you’d watch even if I wasn’t here, and you did. Plus, I kinda like your commentary. This stuff is all new to me.” You say, and he chuckles softly. He rests his head on the pillow again, his arm grazing yours unintentionally. He pays it no mind.

“If you say so.”

After another two videos accompanied by Jake’s narration, you find yourself so hungry, you think you might be withering away. When there’s a lull in his commentary, you whisper into the dim room from behind him.

“Is it normal to feel like I need a snack so urgently I might pass away?”

He stretches a little, rolling over to look at you again. You give him a slow smile, your eyes squinting as your cheeks push them closed.

“I can go see what I have… It’s been a minute since I’ve been home but there’s probably–”

“No!” You interject, sitting up a little more. He jumps at the motion, a little startled. “I have this tray of chocolate covered strawberries in my fridge! My coworker called in today, and her boyfriend sent her like two dozen of them, so obviously I brought them home.”

“Oh hell yeah.” He answers, smiling back at you.

“I’ll be right back!” You say excitedly, hopping off the couch and swiping your keys off the table. You quickly slip on your shoes and head for the front door, darting out into the cold night.

It’s not long before you’re kicking the refrigerator door shut and sneaking back out into the windy February air. As you cross the street you see his door open, and once you’re close enough, you duck inside. He takes the box from you right away as he shuts the door.

After putting it down on the table near his front door, he reaches for your bare arms, rubbing them to warm you up. He laughs softly as you smile up at him.

“You didn’t bring your sweater, you absolute maniac…” he chides playfully, and you laugh in response, a chill running up your spine. His hands are so warm and his presence so comforting that you find yourself resisting the urge to wrap yourself up in him.

“I didn’t think it would be that cold.” you mumble, trying to keep your teeth from chattering.

“Oh, you thought the cold snap had just let up suddenly?” he asks with a sarcastic inflection, and you roll your eyes with a smile as he lets go of your arms. “Figured it was probably a cozy 27 degrees instead of 22?”

You pick the strawberries back up and walk past him, back toward the living room to take your seat again. Before you can offer him a snarky retort, he’s quickly heading up the stairs of his old house, taking them two at a time as they creak and crack. Footsteps sound from above you, moving in one direction and then the other, before he’s coming back down slower than he had ascended. When he appears in the entryway of the living room, he’s holding the biggest, plushest navy blue down comforter you’ve ever seen in both of his arms. He’s peeking over and around it as he navigates behind the coffee table, careful not to trip or bump into something.

“What’s all this?” You ask, laughing at the sight before you as you sit criss-crossed on the chaise, the container of strawberries still sitting in your lap, uneaten.

“The comforter from my bed, obviously.” He answers, snatching the berries from you once more and putting them on the coffee table. You groan, but it’s short lived, as he drops the entire giant comforter overtop of you. He arranges it to wrap you inside of it, letting your head peek out. He tucks it under your thighs and tugs it closed across your chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble through a tight-lipped smile, finding him a little ridiculous, but also thoughtful and sweet. He plops down next to you, sitting similarly to you with his legs crossed, the box of strawberries between you. He opens them and offers you one by the stem, which you graciously accept.

You take a bite, quickly moving your hand under your chin to catch any of the chocolate cracking and falling. You moan a little at the taste, smiling at him when his eyes cut to yours.

He takes a bite of his own, his approach for avoiding a mess a little different than yours. His bite is so big that it takes him a while to chew through it, eventually speaking with some still in his mouth.

“I don’t know who the fuck decided these are supposed to be a romantic food.” He has a little bit of chocolate in his mustache and you can’t help but giggle, his tongue quickly darting out to lick it. “I’ve never had a more difficult time eating anything in my goddamn life.” He says, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest.

You’re so far under the influence and feeling so content from finally getting your hands on the sweets you were craving, all you can do is giggle in response. It’s the kind of giggle that lingers, when the joke is probably forgotten. He’s watching you with one raised brow as you cover your mouth and try to stop it.

He eventually joins you, unable to resist the contagious, almost delusional snickering coming from you under the giant blanket across from him. It’s a sweet, silly moment, and it feels effortless. You spend the next few minutes chewing and laughing and stealing glances at him in secret. The edible has you at a point where you’re not sure if you’re speaking out loud or thinking the words in your head. So then, the question you’re considering asking him just slips out.

“Why are you so tan in February?” You laugh, realizing it was a little forward of you to just ask out of nowhere. Luckily, you’re met with a stoned giggle of his own before he swallows and answers.

“I… went to a music festival in South America last week.” He says, eyes flicking up to yours, almost like he’s trying to see if you believe him.

“See anyone good?” You pry, your cheeks a little flushed the more you stare at him and catalog his mannerisms.

“Nobody you’d know.” He says, and you take him at his word. He smiles reassuringly, even though you don’t believe him, and it makes you giggle some more.

Eventually, it settles down and it’s just occasional quiet laughs cutting through the quiet of the room. He reaches for another strawberry and you realize it’s a little too quiet. You turn your head towards the tv, the last video having ended, and the countdown to the next one descending from 15. You squint your eyes a little to see what’s about to play next.

Rig Rundown: Greta Van Fleet [2021] is the title. But what really throws you is the thumbnail. The image is an older guy with coiffed silver hair, smiling and pointing at… Jake? He’s got a smug smile on his face, an arm on this other guy’s shoulder, and his hair down, which you think you’ve seen only once. He’s in a navy blue blazer with a hand on his hip, a guitar hanging across the front of his body.

“...Is that you?”

10…9…8…

“Huh?” Jake says as he looks up at you from the box of strawberries, his mouth full, a stem pinched between his two fingers. He sees where you’re looking and follows your gaze towards the TV as it counts down.

7…6…5…

“Oh, fuck–”

You quickly grab the remote control from the end of the coffee table, trying to find the OK button so it will start playing sooner. Jake panics, tossing the carton of berries onto the table with reckless abandon. He lunges towards you, so you hide the remote inside the comforter along with as much of yourself as you can.

“No!” He shouts playfully, grabbing at the blanket and trying to unravel you. He kneels on the edge of the chaise, knocking you over and trying to get to your hands and arms under the layers and layers of soft, fluffy blankets.

“You have… to let… me watch it!” You argue with a laugh, avoiding his grasp. You finally decide to raise the remote all the way over your head, almost over the edge of the couch. He leans forward over top of you, his weight balanced on his palm next to your head.

“Hand it over.” He says, attempting to be stern, but there’s a smile pulling at his lips. A little jingle begins to play, and you can’t see the screen, but you’re positive the video is starting. You adjust the remote in your hand and crank the volume as he stares down at you. His eyes linger on your lips, then your eyes, then your lips again. His stare is only broken when he realizes it’s getting louder. A riff starts to fill the room, a song you can’t say you’ve ever heard before, and he huffs, reaching for the remote again.

You’re a little distracted watching him on the screen over his shoulder, his long hair and unbuttoned shirt and the way his hands look wrapped around the neck of the guitar. He snatches the remote from you with an extra stretch of his arm and you giggle softly. “Oh my god…”

“Hey, hey! I’m John from Premier Guitar, and I’m here with Jake Kiszka from–”

Jake pauses the video, falling back into his seat on the couch. His head lolls to the side and he looks at you with a playful, annoyed glare.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell are you doing guitar interviews?”

“I told you I’m a musician.” He says, a little short, lifting the remote to exit the video.

“No, no, wait!” You plead, reaching for his forearm to lower it. “Just let me watch, like, a minute.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “If you don't, I'll just go home and watch it anyway.”

He groans, mumbling a barely there “fine,” begrudgingly before pressing play and letting the guy continue.

“Greta Van Fleet! Jake, congratulations! Since I last saw you, you won a grammy! Or two grammys?”

“Yeah, one…”

“You have a fucking GRAMMY?” You exclaim as the video continues to play. You turn and look at him, but his eyes are on the screen, squinting with what you can tell is embarrassment.

“Are you gonna talk through your allotted one minute of watching or what?” He says, giving you a little warning look. You grin, turning your attention back to the screen. As the guy goes on and on, you realize this isn’t the part you want to watch.

“Can we skip past this guy? He talks a lot. This is not how I want to use my minute.” You bargain, and he just offers you the remote silently with a smirk.

You fast forward a little until you see he’s about to play. It’s a few seconds of him playing something else you’ve never heard, and then he speaks.

“It’s hotter, it’s a bit hotter…”

You smirk with wide eyes, looking at him in your peripherals.

“Shut up.” He says, closing his eyes like he simply can’t watch any more. You laugh at his dramatics, and when he hears it he can’t help but crack a smile. His cheeks are rosy and you look back at the screen, eyes trying to decide on what part of him to land on.

“This guy…” You start, shaking your head a little.

“He’s a bit much.” Jake says, looking over at you with a half smile.

“He’s so sweaty!” You add, laughing through your words.

He lets you watch for more than a minute. He makes a few comments, scoffing at himself, even running his hand over his face a few times. You can tell it’s a little painful for him, but you’re in your glory. You reach for another strawberry as you look over at his embarrassed face.

“So this is why you’re never here…” you say, turning the volume down a little. “And the music festival…”

“Yep. That would be the reason.” He says softly, sniffing a little as he watches. You turn to look at him and his eyes flick up to yours, his gaze traveling straight to your lips. There's a flicker in his eyes, and you hardly comprehend that his hand is moving towards your face. You feel his thumb swipe softly against your bottom lip, a tiny smear of chocolate on the tip of his digit. Your tongue immediately licks over the place his thumb was, tasting the sugary sweetness of the chocolate that was once there. He places his thumb between his lips, licking the chocolate from his own finger, while his eyes stay locked on yours.

“Somehow, it’s even sweeter.” he breathes letting his hand drop from his lips. He settles back into the couch cushions resting his head on his hand as he looks at you. You can hardly pull your eyes away from his as your heart races in your chest, the video in the background long forgotten.

“Tell me why you’re alone on Valentine’s day…” he murmurs, his pink lips barely parting to let the words escape.

“You tell me why you are…” you counter, blinking slowly as you stare at him.

He bites his lips together as he tosses around the words in his head. He clicks his tongue against his teeth as he starts to speak. “Well, to be honest… I’ve had trouble finding someone that can live with the burden of my lifestyle. It’s a lot to ask of someone. ”

“Burden?” you ask.

“Yeah, that’s the word that always gets thrown around when things go south. And they’re not wrong I suppose. I know that I’m gone more than I’m home. Even you know that.” He says with a humorless chuckle. “Half the time I don’t know the next time that I’ll be home and get to sleep in my own bed. So naturally that sort of…uncertainty doesn’t lend well to relationships. Of any kind really…” he pauses, letting out a sigh. “It’s hard to find, let alone keep, any type of meaningful connection… Especially when I’m halfway around the world. But I swear it’s not for lack of trying on my end. It’s just one of those things that comes with the job whether you want it or not.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling your heart breaking for him. If you weren’t sure before, you are positive now that he is just a little more lonely than he is willing to let on.

“I wasn’t even supposed to be here now. We’re supposed to be traveling to New York right now. Though, everything happens for a reason I guess.” he says, offering you a little smirk as he brushes his hand over top of yours. “Now, your turn. Tell me why such an intriguing woman is all alone on the most romantic day of the year…”

You pull the fluffy blanket up a little further onto your lap, toying with the hem as you look up at him. “I haven’t really dated anyone since I moved here. I thought I would but, I just…haven’t. I thought that once I was settled into a good routine at work I could spend a little more time meeting people, but every time I go out I’m suddenly surrounded by twenty other girls who are by modern standards perfect, and I just don’t even stand a chance against them, you know?” you pause, letting your fingers roll over the stitching on the edge of the duvet. “I don’t look like them, and I never will. So I just work a lot, hang out with my friends when I can, and have zero expectations of ever being the person that is going to stand out in a crowd like that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for his response, suddenly feeling stupid for telling this stranger your secrets.

“You couldn't be more wrong.” he breathes, letting his arm fall against the back of the couch. There’s an air of demand in his voice as he speaks. His hand swipes the hair away from your face, letting his fingers brush your jawline. “You’re prettier than all of them. And smarter, and funnier. They have nothing on you. I’d pick you…In a crowd.”

“You don’t have to just say that to try and make me feel better. It’s okay, really.” you say dismissively.

“I’m not just saying that, Y/N. I mean it. You’re so pretty, and you’re so quick witted, and you listen to me talk about stuff no one else cares about...Shit, I can’t think of one person I know that would have sat through even the first video, let alone let me talk through the entire thing. I’m having one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time, with you.” he urges, settling his hand loosely on the curve of your neck. His skin is warm against yours, and you can smell the remnants of the cologne he likely sprayed on his wrist this morning as it wafts towards your nose.

You laugh softly, suddenly feeling shy as he compliments you. You lean into him without even noticing, your eyes closing as you breathe him in. The cushion dips as he leans towards you, meeting you where you were and pressing his lips to yours almost tentatively. His fingers grip into your neck as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip. If the gummy didn’t already have you feeling floaty, you were sure you’d be feeling it now. He pulls away from you and a small whimper leaves your mouth at the loss of his warmth. His hand slides down your neck and over your shoulder, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him. With his other hand, he picks up the remote and hits pause, not wanting the video to carry on in the background of what you think is about to be another kiss.

“C’mere…” he growls, holding a hand out to you. You tuck your feet underneath yourself in an attempt to push up onto your knees, feeling slightly off-kilter. You grip his hand a little tighter as you reach for his shoulder, moving slowly until you’re straddling his lap. He positions your legs on either side of him, making sure you’re comfortable, and taking the opportunity to run his hands over your thighs. You rest your hands on his chest for some stability, your head in the clouds. His hands immediately find their way back to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pulls you in and kisses you again,though this time there is a little more urgency behind it. You slide your hands up and over his shoulders, letting your fingers weave into his hair, grabbing a handful of the chestnut locks and gripping it in your fists. He tilts his head back slightly in response.

“Oh, fuck.” he groans. He looks at you with his head tilted back, his lids heavy, a barely-there crooked smile on his face. He’s such a sight with his dark eyes and pink lips, you think you might burst on the spot. You know you need to kiss him again, but you also want to hear him moan and curse again, and his exposed throat is calling to you.

Leaning down, you place a kiss to his jaw, the skin soft and warm. You feel like you’re in the passenger seat as someone else, a bolder and less inhibited version of yourself, calls the shots. One minute, you’re thinking about how the textured skin of his throat feels against your cheek, then then the next, you’re kissing and licking at it without a second thought. You feel his skin buzz under your lips as he whines, the taste of his skin and cologne mixed together so good you’re certain you’ll never be able to forget it.

You feel yourself melting into him, your tongue pulling the delicate skin over his clavicle into your mouth as you suck and bite softly without any consideration for the fact that he probably shouldn’t be covered in love bites. When you lift your head, he’s got his own resting on the back of the couch, his eyes closed, his brows knitted together as you shower him in searing kisses.

Sitting up, you lean over him again for another kiss, this time taking it upon yourself to deepen it, grazing your teeth over his bottom lip as you lace your hands in his hair again, taking a bit of control. You feel him shudder beneath you, his hips bucking up in response. His tongue slides into your mouth and you can taste the lingering flavor of the tequila he was no doubt drinking prior to your arrival mixed with a hint of chocolate. His hands travel down your body, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt. He stops as his hands wrap around your waist, his thumbs swiping over your skin. You lean into his grip, feeling him pull you down onto his groin as his teeth nip at your lips now.

You know that both of you are still feeling the effects of the gummy and there isn’t a shred of inhibition between the two of you. You release your grip on his hair and let your hands trail down the open buttons of his shirt, feeling the chest you’ve stared at all night beneath your fingertips. You slide them further down, letting your fingers toy with the remaining buttons, waiting to see if he will stop you, but when he doesn’t, you finish the job and push his shirt open completely. A silver necklace rests between his pecs, and you smile recognizing the coin as one of the artifacts you saw in one of the videos from earlier in the night.

His mouth is like velvet on yours and you can’t help but to want more of him. You roll your hips against him, feeling him growing beneath you and spurring you on even more. Another groan leaves his mouth, his lips vibrating on yours. His hands move up a little further, his thumbs just dusting the underside of your bralette. You can tell he’s doing his best to be respectful, but you simply cannot wait another second to feel his hands on your body.

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, tossing it to the side. He swallows thickly as his eyes roam over you, his lips parting as he looks you over. His mind is struggling to keep up with the pace things are moving. He hums in approval as he runs a calloused fingertip over your navel, which pulls a lazy smile from you. Jake chuckles in response, now moving his hands to rest at your shoulders before pulling you down closer to him so he can press a wet kiss to your collarbone. His lips trail down your skin until they reach the fullness of your chest, and with his eyes now locked on yours, he sucks a hot, audible kiss into the rounded skin.

Your eyes flutter closed as his tongue swipes against your skin, simultaneously feeling his fingers pull the bralette straps down over your shoulders. With the extra support gone the cups fall slightly, revealing a little more of your chest to him. You grab his hands and pull them to your chest, giving him the green light to take things a little further.

“God, you’re stunning.” he mumbles breathlessly, gripping into your tits as you roll your hips against him. You lean forward to press your lips to his again, licking into his mouth as his hands move to circle around your back, resting just at the base of your back. He presses you closer as you roll into him again, this time feeling his fully hard cock pressed against your core. He hooks a finger into one side of your bralette, freeing your nipple. He leans forward and takes into his mouth, sucking softly. You groan at the feeling, a breath of air leaving his mouth as you drag across the length of him. He pulls you closer, dragging his tongue over the sensitive bud as mewls fall from your lips. You usually aren’t as affected by something so routine in foreplay, but all of your senses are heightened and you think you could probably cum from the feeling of his mouth spoiling you with kisses and bites combined with how hard he is between your thighs.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, still glassy and blown out. “I promise this isn’t what I intended when I invited you over...” he breathes, his thumbs swiping against your back as he licks his lips, his blinks slow and lazy.

“I know…” you answer with a bashful smile and lidded eyes, staring into his brown irises. “But it feels too good to stop.”

“Yeah,” he says, more of a breath than a word. “I want you so fucking bad right now.” he adds, a smirk pulling across his lips as he makes the move to roll you to your back on the chaise of the couch. You're giggling as he’s now hovering over you, similarly to how he was earlier, only this time you know he’s going to kiss you and you don’t have to wish for it. He makes quick work of his shirt, pulling his arms from the sleeves and tossing it to the other side of the room. Your head is positively spinning, the room around you seems like a blur and the only thing in focus is him.

He runs a finger over your chest, hooking into the fabric of your bralette. “Take this off for me, sweetheart. Show me.” he mumbles, his lazy eyes slowly raking over every inch of you, needing more.

You practically burst into flames, rushing to pull the fabric over your head. Now completely exposed to him, his eyes flick down to your chest as he bites his lips together. He pulls back again, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down for some relief. He swallows harshly, letting his eyes meet yours again. You reach your hand up and hook it around his neck, pulling his face down to yours. You press your lips to his and he lowers himself down to his elbows, deepening the kiss as his body lays on top of yours.

You let your free hand circle around his back, your fingers following the contours of his waist, dipping down to his spine as you run the length of his back. He groans at the feeling of your nails against his skin, and you find yourself wondering if he’s usually this vocal or if the high he’s experiencing has lowered his guard.

He shoots up, turning his head around to look at the TV, muttering something under his breath as he grabs the remote from the other side of the couch. He exits the video and you giggle, realizing it was paused on a still of his brother, you assume, in the middle of talking with his hands, sitting behind a keyboard. He tosses the remote to the coffee table, leaning back down over you with a smirk. “Sorry. I just think three’s a crowd.” he smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips.

He pulls away from your lips leaving a trail of kisses down your throat, and over your sternum, stopping just shy of the top of your yoga pants. His eyes flick up to yours, and you offer him a shy nod, silently thanking yourself for that “everything” shower this morning.

He kisses your stomach one more time before curling his fingers beneath the hem, sliding them slowly over your hips and down your legs before letting them fall softly to the floor. You lay there in just your panties, and you think he may notice that you’re feeling exposed as he quickly stands to kick off his pants. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the heavy outline of his dick, visible and straining against the black fabric of his boxers.

His eyes flick to yours but you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the tan line just above the elastic of his boxers, wanting more than anything to peel the black fabric from his hips. He kneels onto the chaise, settling himself between your legs and caging you between his arms. A few strands of his hair hang around his face, and his dark brown eyes are growing darker by the second. You bring your hand up to his stomach, letting your fingers sneak beneath the elastic of his boxers, sliding across the front of his waist causing him to clench up his stomach with a smile.

“You ticklish?” you murmur, continuing to slide your fingers across his waistband.

He drops his head to look at your hand in his boxers before looking back up at you with a smirk. “Not ticklish, just…sensitive…” he growls. You can tell that the gummy has made him a little more responsive to touch than he normally is.

His hips jolt forward on their own accord and you feel the brush of his dick against your fingers. He sucks in a harsh breath at the contact, his eyes connecting with yours. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your hand further inside, wrapping softly around his hardened length. A hiss leaves his mouth and he starts to breathe a little heavier as you squeeze around him. You slide your hand up and around the tip, rounding off at the end before sliding back down, watching his eyes flutter closed for the slightest second.

“Fuck, wait…” he breathes, pulling back and taking a second to compose himself. He sits up a little more, hooking his fingers into your thong and pulling it swiftly down your legs. His eyes flick up towards the couch then back down the length of the chaise, “Move down a little for me, baby. Rest your feet on the floor. ”

You quickly push yourself further down on the couch, letting your knees hang over the edge of the chaise until your feet meet the rug on the floor. He drops to his knees at the end of the chaise, running his warm hands up the length of your thighs. He kisses the inside of your thigh, humming in appreciation for the position he’d found himself in.

He rests both of his hands on your hips, and as you look down at him, you see a faint silver scar up the length of his left arm. You wrap your hand around his forearm, feeling his veins pulsing against your palm.

His eyes meet yours as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds, hot and slow as you throw your head back into the couch cushion. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin pulling you closer as his lips suction over your clit. His tongue swipes against you again, flatter and with more pressure as you writhe beneath him.

“Fuck…” he curses, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. “Had I known what I was missing…” he pauses to lick at you again. “I would have pulled you across the street months ago. You taste like heaven.”

You feel as if you’re floating on a cloud as you melt into his comforter, the warmth from the fireplace radiating across the room. A soft gasp falls from your lips as he laps at you, no urgency or strategy behind his method. He seems to just be enjoying himself, his eyes lifting to look at you, a little lazy, a little glassy. You shift underneath him slightly, but he’s not deterred. His mouth doesn’t leave you for even a moment, like you’re his only source of vitality in this very moment.

You whine when you feel his tongue press to your entrance, and you feel the smile that pulls across his lips. Your hips buck up towards him, his nose brushing over your clit, sending you quickly towards a place you’re not quite ready to be yet. His tongue finds you again, pressing forward this time and entering just for a second before pulling back out. His lips suction over you again, and he shakes his head side to side, taking you to that place whether you’re ready or not.

“Jake…” you whine, sliding your hands into his hair.

“Mmm?” he hums into you, his eyes slowly opening to find yours, heavy with lust.

“More…” you beg, shuddering the slightest bit as you see how dark his eyes have become.

He gives you one more slow, long lap of his tongue, like he’s savoring it and committing the taste of you to memory. He stands from where he was kneeling and taps your thigh gently, wordlessly telling you to shift back up on the chaise. You scoot backwards and he follows, nestling himself between your legs, propped up on his palm. With the hand he isn’t using for balance, he frees himself from his briefs. He strokes himself once, but then lets himself go and you feel him against you, his cock heavy and hard, landing on the inside of your thigh with the softest sound. He pulls back slightly and when he pushes his hips forward again, he’s sliding through your folds, slick and lewd. It makes your cheeks hot.

“You’re so fucking wet…” he grunts, his voice strained like he’s in pain. “Just wanna feel you for a second…”

He lowers himself to bury his face in your hair, his breath hot as he pants, gently rutting his hips against you, his thrusts a little uncoordinated and desperate.

“Everything’s just so fucking sensitive.” he says, his now boyish voice cracking as it’s muffled by the pillow behind your head. He wraps his arms tightly around you and under you, like he’s worried you’re about to float away. “Feels so good.”

With a deep breath he releases you, sliding his hand down to fist his base. As he presses the tip to your entrance his eyes lock on yours, wordlessly asking if you’re ready, and when you nod he starts to press forward. His eyes flick down to your center, watching as he slides into you. The stretch is noticeable, but you welcome it. You want it. His eyes flutter closed for just a second and you feel him stop his movement, not pressing into you fully.

“Fuck, give me a second.” he pants, his chest heaving.

You feel him try to slide in a little more, but again he’s holding back.

“I think– I think you’re gonna have to take the reins here.” he admits.

“What do you mean…”

“If I move a single inch more I won’t–” he pauses, shaking his head as he blows out a breath. “I just need you to be on top.”

His eyes are pleading, searching yours, and you can’t possibly fathom the idea of ever denying him.

“I’ll make it worth your while.” he offers, and you can’t help but give him a little smirk, nodding. He withdraws and gives you a little space to get up, ditching his underwear before taking your place. You gingerly climb over him, taking a moment to brush one of the strands of hair that frames his face out of the way. He gives you a soft, lazy smile, his eyes barely open as he welcomes your gentle touch.

His hand reaches between the two of you as he lines himself up, and you waste no time lowering yourself onto him, savoring how full he makes you feel. Intending to fly right out of the gates you lift your hips again, but he slowly settles you down, a soft hum rumbling through him.

“That’s it. Yeah… Lean back for me?” he coaches, and you do as he asks without a second thought. His warm hand brushes down your abdomen until his thumb makes contact with your clit to rub gentle circles while his lidded eyes are open just a sliver to stare intently at where your bodies are meeting. His pink lips are parted slightly, his breathing shallow. You can’t help the wanton moan that escapes your throat at the sight paired with his careful touch.

“Rest your hands on my knees. I won’t let you fall.” he instructs, letting his free hand slide up your thigh. You do as he says, leaning back onto his knees, allowing you to take him a little deeper. “Just like that, baby. Fuck…”

You roll your hips in figure eights, feeling him brush against that sensitive place inside you, eliciting a whine from your chest.

“Yeah? Right there?” he asks, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You stay just like that. Let me take over.”

He brings his foot up to rest on the cushion, giving himself a little more leverage. His hand firmly grips into your hip as he forcefully flicks his hips and fucks up into you. You gasp as he hits that spot, like he knew where it was the whole time. His thumb never relenting in its work on your clit.

“Yeah, damn. That’s it isn’t it, sweetheart? You feel so good like this... You just keep squeezin’ me, just like that.”

The force of his thrusts cause his silver chain to work its way up his body and into the crook of his neck. Your attention is quickly drawn to the metal coins rattling together with each thrust.

“M’gonna cum…” you warn him so he can decide whether or not to back off, but he just groans and keeps his motions steady. You can’t breathe when it hits you, nor can you help the way you fall forward, gasping for breath. Steadying yourself with weak arms, you grasp at the plush comforter underneath him.

“Fuck me that’s tight,” he groans. “Fuck.” He grabs your wrists on either side of his head for leverage, thrusting up into you so hard you see stars. It’s like your vision goes white as your chest heaves and you meet your end, crying out a desperate wail of his name.

“Slow down for me now, baby.” he coos as you tremble and try to catch your breath. You nod, taking all of him slowly with each roll of your hips. Looking down at him, you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together. Something about the way he’s dewy with sweat, his chest rising and falling, his hair sticking to his face… It makes your head spin. You watch his stoned eyes rolling back each time you take him so deeply the head of his cock brushes against the deepest part of you and it’s almost too much to bear.

He grips your hips suddenly, inhaling sharply. You freeze, knowing what he’s getting at, and you feel him twitch inside you. His brow is knitted up in concentration and a whine leaves his perfect, heart-shaped lips.

“Goddamn… you feel too good. I can’t– I can’t hold it, fuck…” he babbles, his voice pitched higher than you’ve heard it all night. Before you can say a word, he continues on.

“Can I do it inside? Please, baby, can I? Pl– oh, god, please? Wanna cum inside you so bad, so fucking bad… Can I? Baby–”

“Do it.” you urge, desperate to give him anything he wants in this very moment.

“Yeah?” he gasps.

“Yeah, do it. Please. I need it…” you whine, squeezing him with everything you have one last time.

“Oh fuck…” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you down and holds you in place as he pumps into you. “God damn, fuck me…” he cries out, grunting with each pulse inside you. His brows are furrowed and his eyes screwed shut before finally letting out a deep breath and slowing his hips.

His chest is heaving and a sheen of sweat covers his tanned skin. His hand moves from your hips, swiping the sweaty hair from his forehead. You lift to your knees, knowing exactly why his eyes are still trained on the place the two of you meet. He wants to see his work.

As you lift up, you feel his release start to stream out of you and back down onto his cock. A huff of pride leaves his chest, his tongue swiping out over his bottom lip before biting it between his teeth.

“Should we clean up?” he asks, watching the hot white streams drip down to his base.

“I’m working on it...” you say softly, lifting off of him completely and dropping to your knees. You plant your hands on either side of his hips, arching your back and pressing your ass into the air as you lower your mouth over his cum covered cock.

“Fuck…” he groans, watching your lips slide down his length.

Closing your lips over his base, you take him as far into your throat as you can, sucking his release from his skin as you work your way up, dragging your tongue over his every inch. You can feel him growing hard again as you reach the tip, lapping and circling your tongue around the sensitive skin. You drop down to his base again, but this time you feel his hand grip into your hair, holding you there as his hips jerk forward, propelling him further down your throat.

“Look at me.” he demands, and you flick your watery eyes up to meet his.

You gag around him and he releases your hair, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “Mmm…Yeah, fuck. We’re gonna revisit this...” he says, eyes fixed on you as you pull off of him with a pop. “Just needed to see how pretty you look with my cock down your throat.”

You can’t stop the tiny gasp that escapes you as you shoot him a playfully shocked grin. You blink once, raising your brows.

“We have a lot to revisit. Where did that come from?” You ask through a laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He chuckles, handing you your shirt.

“Sorry, sorry. The edible’s wearing off.” He says with a smirk, attempting to get himself off the couch. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Jake shows you to the bathroom, then disappears into his bedroom while you freshen up. When you emerge, re-dressed and significantly less sticky, he hears your footsteps and comes out to meet you in the hallway. The two of you smile at each other, feeling the THC and endorphins and feelings starting to settle like you’re standing in a snowglobe.

“I'm glad you came over. Sorry I Jake’d you for a few hours.” He says softly, and there’s some jingling coming from his bedroom, which is probably Davy annoyed that you’re still lingering in his house. Jake hears it, reaching behind him to close his bedroom door without looking away from you.

“Jake’d me? Please don’t tell me that’s what you call–”

“NO, no, no. Oh, no. Getting ‘Jake’d’ is what my family calls it when I corner one of them into talking to me for an extended period of time about something they don’t really care about in excruciating detail.” He explains like he’s reading the definition from a textbook, a charming smile on his face. He seems a little embarrassed but at the same time, he sees the humor in it.

“Well I had a really great time.” you answer genuinely, pushing your hair behind your ear. “You can Jake me whenever you want.” You joke, a laugh bubbling out of you. You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully and it coaxes a short, loud laugh out of him as well.

“I just might take you up on that.” He says, and there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks even in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“You know where to find me...”

As if he can tell you’re about to try and take your leave, he starts to walk past you and down the stairs.

“...Have you ever watched those videos where they clean out old barns?”

–

The two of you ended up curled together on the chaise, tucked under his big comfy blanket. The exhaustion hits you all at once, and about 10 minutes in, you slip into a deep sleep, your head tucked into his shoulder, his arm around you, his hand gently scratching your scalp.

Hours later, you wake up unsure where you are for a moment. As you shift a little, you feel there’s a heavy weight against you, which you soon realize is Jake’s leg. You’re no longer tucked underneath the giant duvet, a little sweaty, as Jake is asleep on his back. His hand is tucked into his sweatpants resting on his upper thigh, and you have to peel your eyes away once you spot the first sign of him half hard and half asleep. You can see his bold tan line and the slightest bit of hair through the gap he’s created. Sitting up, you try to search for a clock somewhere in the room or even your phone. Feeling around the chaise under you, you don’t find it. You look over on the other side of Jake hoping it’s there, but the only thing you find there is little Davy, curled into a ball and pressed against Jake’s back.

Jake seems to feel you moving around and it wakes him, eliciting a raspy hum from his chest. He pulls you back in towards him, your back to his chest, and you feel him shaking his head against your shoulder.

“Morning,” you say through a breathy laugh, but at the sound of your voice, you hear the jingle of Davy’s collar and the tippy-taps of his feet as he runs as far away from you as humanly possible.

“Too early.” He grumbles, reaching blindly over his head to feel around for the curtains. When he doesn’t find them, he groans and gets up, tugging them closed tight. “Fuck. Slept with my contacts in.” He says, standing over you and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He stretches his arms over his head, his tanline peeking out again, and you squeeze your eyes closed trying to keep your head on straight. He sighs deeply before sliding back onto the couch with you, pulling you tight to him. The two of you fall back asleep soon after, the only sound you hear is the clinking of Davy’s collar tag against his bowl and some quiet crunching.

–

When you wake again it’s from the feeling of Jake’s fingers moving against your hip. You stretch your legs out along the chaise, feeling the brush of his sweatpants against your legs. You roll your body towards him letting out a yawn. His eyes open, a little red from the dryness of sleeping with his contacts in, but as they fully open you’re once again pulled in by the dark brown irises.

“Still too early?” you whisper, your morning voice thick with sleep.

“Mmm, a bit, but I should probably get up. I’m sure my phone is just completely blown up by this point.” he groans, stretching his own legs out. “You sleep okay? We should’ve just moved to the bed earlier.”

“Actually this couch is pretty comfy, no complaints from me.” you smile, watching a grin spread across his own face.

“Speaking of complaints, your snoring…” he trails off.

“I don’t snore!” you admonish, playfully pushing off of his warm chest.

“No, you don’t. I’m just kidding. You are warm though, but that’s not a complaint.” he growls, tossing the comforter off of both of you. He pushes himself up off of the couch, his sweatpants dangerously low on his hips. “Coffee? You drink coffee?” he asks, searching for his phone on the coffee table. “Or I can order something to the house, though there’s really only one good place that deliv–”

You send him a knowing look and he stops himself.

“But you know that already because you live across the street.” he sighs. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee’s good.” you answer, looking for your own phone.

“How do you like it? Sugar? Milk? I don’t know what I have but–”

“Just sugar is fine…” you smirk.

He leans over the coffee table to grab his phone, stealing a kiss on his descent.

“Hey!” you laugh.

“You said just sugar…” he grins, swiping his phone and disappearing into his kitchen.

You stifle back the smile on your lips, and a morning you thought might be slightly awkward, feels like you’ve done it a million times. You pull on your cardigan, and run your fingers through your hair, straightening up the couch cushions, and repositioning the pillows. You’re finishing folding up his comforter as he walks into the room.

“Ahh, you didn’t have to do that.” he says, placing your mug on the coffee table.

“No trouble, just cleaning up our mess.” you smile, tossing the folded comforter down onto the couch.

“You seem to be rather good at that...” he smirks into his coffee mug.

Your cheeks grow hot as you recall what he is referring to. You grab your mug from the table and take a few sips, finding that somehow it’s made exactly how you like it.

You spot your keys under the coffee table, bending to grab them. “There they are. Always getting away from me.”

He chuckles as he takes his normal seat on the couch, crossing his leg over his knee. You stare at him, just enjoying his coffee on his couch and you want to ask him if you can see him again, but you don’t. You think back to what he told you last night, and decide against it.

You place your empty mug on the table, and bite your lips together before looking at him. “Thank you– for the coffee, and everything. It was nice.”

“Yeah, it was nice, wasn’t it? Same time next year?” he jokes, offering you a wink.

“Oh yeah, I thought that was a given…” you say through a laugh, “I mean, if you’re home of course.”

You grab your phone and keys from the coffee table and stand, ready to make your way towards the front door. He joins you in standing, the mug still clasped in his hand.

“Yeah, you just never know, ya know? I mean, maybe we don’t even have to wait that long…” he laughs, taking another sip of his coffee with a shrug.

“Yeah, I mean, you have my number…” You smile, twisting the front door knob.

“That I do. I definitely do.” he pauses, as you pull the door open. “Hey wait, let me walk you home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, it’s just right there…” you say nervously.

“No, really. I want to. Just give me a sec.” he says, setting his mug on the entry table and rushing to grab a hoodie from his coat rack. He slides on a pair of dirty white Vans that have definitely seen better days, and opens the door further. “Alright, you ready?”

The two of you make your way through his front yard, giggling back and forth all the way to your front door as he quizzes you about the videos you watched last night. As you step up to your front porch mat you pull your keys from your cardigan pocket and start to unlock the door.

“Thanks for walking me home. You’re such a gentleman…” you say, feigning romance. As you peek over his shoulder you see Davy sitting in the window, keeping a close eye on Jake.

“Well of course, I couldn’t miss out on my kiss…” he smiles, a little dimple forming in his cheek.

“What kiss…” you press, all the while secretly hoping for just one more.

He grabs your waist and pulls you close to him, pressing his cold lips to yours. You can taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue, and as he pulls away his lips linger just a second longer.

A hum leaves his lips as he steps back. “That kiss.” He says, stepping backwards off of your porch, taking a few steps before turning to head back to his house. As you step inside your front door you look over your shoulder at the same time as he does, throwing his hand up from inside his hoodie pocket to offer you a two finger wave.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you close the door behind you, and you feel like positively melting into the ground over the night you just shared with Jake. As you peek out the window you see Davy gone from his patrol post, and you smile knowing he’s definitely happy to have Jake all to himself again.

—

As you scrub away the remnants of the night before, you can’t help but to remember the way his hands felt as they moved across your body. So warm and so intentional, even in his intoxicated state. You wonder if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and if he’s thinking about it just as much as you are. You think back to every other Valentine’s day you’ve ever had, and not a single one holding a candle to the night you just spent across the street with your neighbor.

You hear your phone buzz on the bathroom counter as you turn the shower off, wrapping yourself in a towel as you pick it up from the countertop. Your heart leaps in your chest as you see his name flash across your screen.

Jake - Neighbor

12:04pm: Probably should have watched the first one before the sequel. 😉

12:04pm: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWDf_CEkpoU&t=1382s

You quickly hit the link, watching as it directs you to youtube, pulling up yet another Rig Rundown video. This one is much older than the one you saw last night, and as you lean against the bathroom counter the intro music starts to play. You’re met with a much younger looking version of Jake, in a sweater and a bucket hat, looking bright and eager to talk about his craft.

You quickly head towards your kitchen, pulling your own stash of gummies from your pantry. You pluck one of the small black bags from the basket and snap a photo as you pull up your texts and attach it to a message with a giggle.

You

12:10pm: Should I take one of these before I watch it?

12:10pm: By the way, love the bucket hat… 😉

You make your way back to your bedroom, dressing yourself in lounge clothes, knowing you’ll probably spend the rest of the day relaxing and catching up on your shows. Satisfied with your outfit you grab your phone to check for his response, only to be met with an empty screen. You sigh and make your way to the living room, flopping down onto your couch with your leftover take out from the night before, pressing play on the TV.

You try not to think about the man across the street and what he’s probably doing. You know he must be into something since he has yet to respond to your message. That or he has no intention of ever speaking to you again.

Feeling frustrated that it’s probably the latter, you toss your phone to the other side of the couch, catching a glance out your window. Your eyes snap to his driveway, seeing another car taking up the space next to his. Who the hell is at his house?

You stand up and make your way over to the window, taking a closer look at the white Jeep parked next to his car. You’ve never noticed it before…Or have you? You start to wrack your brain for the times you’ve even seen another car at his house, but you come up short. Never really caring before today.

You sit back down on the couch and start the next episode of your show, feeling the soreness from the prior night's activities starting to settle into your muscles. You grab a throw blanket and your favorite pillow and snuggle down into the couch cushions, ready to nap away your troubles, and hoping to wake up to a new message in your inbox.

A knock on the door startles you awake. You grab your phone and see that you’ve slept quite a few hours, and it’s now nearly 6:00pm.

You stand up and run your hands through your hair to combat the bedhead, clearing your throat as you reach for the door knob. Standing on the other side of your door is Jake, looking like he is fresh from the shower, as his damp hair lays long over his shoulders. You can smell his body wash wafting off of him and you practically melt into the door frame.

“Did I wake you up? Did you actually take that gummy?” he laughs, pulling his hands from his pockets.

“Oh, no. I didn’t. I just… I guess I was a little more tired than I thought.” you blush, trying to play it cool, and not like you’ve been thinking about him since the moment he left this morning.

“Sorry I forgot to respond. My brother came over and I couldn’t get him to leave.” he laughs.

His brother.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I was in and out of sleep all day anyways.” you lie.

“So…” he pauses, taking a breath as he reaches into his pocket. “I may have acquired something a bit better than what we had last night.” he says holding a small black bag in his palm.

“I don’t know, I kind of liked what we had last night.” you quip, a little smirk on your lips.

“Mhmm, I know you did.” he smiles, sliding his hands back into his trouser pockets.

“I don’t know if you had plans tonight or anything…” he trails off, kicking his foot against your doormat. “But I was thinking about watching this video I saw about how to make a barbecue smoker out of a filing cabinet. Really riveting stuff…”

His big brown eyes flash up to yours in question and you feel that flame in your chest reignite. You’re already eager at the thought of spending another night like last night. You knew right then that it wouldn’t matter if it was a filing cabinet smoker or a centuries old shipwreck, there was suddenly nothing more important than watching whatever it may be, with him. So with a shy smile, and the tap of your fingers against your chin you meet his gaze.

“You know, I really have been meaning to look into that…”

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joshsjipple · 2 months

Text

Baby, It's Cold Outside pt 1

JAKE KISZKA X FEMALE READER

Word Count: 4.1k

WARNINGS: 18+ graphic sexual content, angst (kinda an enemies to lovers), talk of blood, injury, pain from said injury, unprotected sex (cmon guys), praise kink, oral sex (f/m/rec), rough fingering, language, slaps like once, p in v, dom and sub (can go both ways), fluff etc etc.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Spending Christmas in the freezing cold was not ideal, but then again, neither was being involved in a skiing accident. Could you even call it that? It was a pathetic story, really. You’ve never been one for sports or anything that required you to move at top speed while having to maintain balance, so when your mom asked you to ski with everyone today, you were dumbfounded. It was fun for a while–watching your parents attempt to take on the slopes. That feeling didn’t last long because sooner or later, you were reminded you didn’t come alone on this trip.

Your mother and Karen were best friends throughout high school and stayed in touch through adulthood. At least twice a year, both of your families would leave town together and embark on an adventure. You’d hoped they’d stop inviting you, or atleast stop inviting Karen’s kids, after you all graduated. That didn’t happen. In fact, it only made them extend the trip so they would have more time to spend more time with their grown kids.

Josh zooms by you, a high pitched inaudible scream leaving his mouth as he does so. You giggle and playfully roll your eyes. You never had a problem with Josh, besides the fact he could get a bit talkative. He was kind, patient, and fun; the exact opposite of his twin brother, Jake. He, on the other hand, was snarky, rude, and dead silent. You’d tried to give him a chance for a few years, but he’d just end up ignoring your friendly gestures. Eventually, you stopped trying. You thought that was the end of it, but boy were you wrong.

From that point on, Jake made it his lifelong goal to poke and prod at you. He knew what ticked you off by now and he put that to use the whole week you spent together. No one else heard it, but they all noticed the mean stares you’d give each other at the dinner table. Everyone seemed to stay out of it for the most part, sweeping it under the rug for the time being. Josh knew, but only because he was the one person you could stand on your trips.

Now, perched on the top of a snow-covered hill, you stare down it. Josh’s long gone, joining the rest of the crew down at the bottom and of course, leaving you and Jake at the top. He slides in next to you, his sticks jabbing into the ground to help hold him in place. He’s wearing a giant coat with fur lining the hood, his face barely visible. Giant goggles sit on his nose, making his eyes unnoticeable. You look over at him, trying to figure out if he’s going or if you are.

“Are you just going to stand up here with your jaw dropped?” he asks cooly, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yes, actually. I was thinking about grabbing a flag and claiming it.” you reply plainly.

Jake doesn’t respond, but he moves a step closer to you. “See that treeline?” he points to your right. “There’s a gap right there. Take it as a shortcut and surprise them from behind.”

You roll your eyes, shifting from side to side. “Yeah right.”

“Too scared?” he says in a baby voice, close enough to your ear that you could feel his breath if it weren’t for your ten layers of clothes.

“What? No!” you growl defensively, pushing him away from you.

“Prove it.” he bites.

Rolling your eyes, you push off the hill. Feeding off of Jake’s words, you lean left and you gradually slip through the path he was talking about. You hear him shout from behind you, but figuring it’s just him cheering, you continue. Over time, you pick up speed. You’re steadily moving down the path that seems to be getting narrower with every tree you pass. You hear another frantic shout and when you look to your left, you see Jake on the main path. He’s leaning to the left, desperately crawling to you. He shouts something, his fingers pointing to you. When you turn to see what has his attention, you’re too late.

A giant tree had grown right down the middle of the path. You scream as you cascade through the thick branches. Losing your footing, you begin to tumble, your body banging against the wood. From the force, your coat is ripped open, allowing a sharp branch to tear into the side of your torso. You scream, feeling the hot blood already trickling down your stomach. Once you’re past the tree, you roll a few more times before abruptly coming to a stop. Luckily, it snowed the night before so your landing is awfully comfortable.

You lay there for a moment, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened. Lifting your head, you note that if you hadn’t been exactly where you were, you’d probably never be able to walk again. You hear a muffled voice, and when you see Jake moving towards you, your stomach begins to sting. Your hand immediately addresses the wound and you hiss through gritted teeth. Jake falls to your side, his hands frantically moving in the air as he tries to decide what to do.

“Are you okay?” he asks, a bit of concern in his voice.

“Jesus, do I look okay?” you growl.

He opens his mouth to speak but gets distracted by the voices of your families approaching. In record timing, your mother is by your side, cradling your head. Everyone’s talking around you and when your eyes find Josh, his eyebrows are drawn together.

“Does anything else hurt?” your mother asks, her eyes wide.

“No, I’m fine.” you say. “It’s just a scratch.”

You’re right. It’s not like there’s a gaping hole in your abdomen, just a large scrape. Your face has some as well, and it stings when your mother cups your cheeks. As your parents discuss, you notice Josh and Jake talking just loud enough for you to hear.

“I literally just said to tell her to stay away from that path.” Josh scolds his brother.

“I know.” Jake replies through pursed lips.

“Someone needs to take her back up to the cabin.” Karen says from a few feet away.

“Jake will.” Josh says with a wide grin. “Isn’t that right?” Jake responds by shooting daggers at him, but reluctantly shakes his head in agreement.

“No. I will.” your mom says.

“Mom, you were having fun…” your voice trails off. “I’m sure Jake can make sure I get back okay.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. You nod and squeeze her hand. “Alright.”

She backs away from you and helps you to your feet. Your legs are sore and your body undeniably needs a reset, but you’re not paralyzed. You rest on your mother until Jake’s prepared enough to drag you up the hill. When she hands you over like a prized possession, you’re sure to put all of your weight on Jake. He curses under his breath and then waves your mother off.

“This may be a bad time to mention it, but I love your perfume.” Jake says with a friendly smile.

“I heard you and Josh talking. And I’m not wearing any perfume.” you breathe loudly.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Since when do you ever listen to me?” he defends himself as he begins to haul you up the hill.

“Doesn’t matter! Why would you tell me to do it?”

“Well at least you didn’t die.” he chirps.

“Shut up.”

———————

By the time the two of you reach the cabin, you’re both sweating. Jake collapses as soon as he steps up the stairs. You roll your eyes and step over him, your hand holding your clothes to stop the bleeding from your wound. Seen as your coats almost ripped to shreds, it takes you only a few minutes to strip into a single layer. Your shirt is torn at the seams, so you toss it in the trash can as you pad down the hallway to your room.

Removing all your clothes, you examine the wound. It’s still fresh and blood oozes from out of it. Your head spins as you stare, your stomach queasy. Deciding you can’t take anymore, you resort to the last wanted option.

“Jake!” you shout loud enough he can hear it from outside. After a few moments you hear the door open and shut. “Grab the first aid kit and come here.”

In a few minutes, the handle on your door turns and Jake stumbles in. Your hand is pressed against the wound, your jaw clenched tightly. Jake’s steps falter as his eyes scan over you. His eyes smolder with intensity and widen slightly. Swallowing loudly, he runs his hand over the back of his head. You stare at him in confusion until you realize you’re in nothing but a bra and underwear.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch?” you snap.

“Y-you want me to help you with that?” he over enunciates the last word, making your eyes roll.

“You did this Jake, not me.” you sneer and narrow your eyes. He blinks rapidly for a second, his eyes glued to the ground. “Jake. I’m gonna bleed out.”

“Sorry.” he mumbles, taking a seat next to you and opening the kit. “What do I need?”

“I think I should rinse the blood off first.” you say, hissing as you touch the scrape. “Wanna start the bath?”

Jake groans, but disappears to start the water. A few minutes later he returns and helps you to your feet. You take tentative steps, your head spinning. Once you reach the bathroom, you toy with the clasp of your bra. Jake shoots away from you, turning so he’s facing the wall.

“Oh grow up Jake.” you complain, cheeks as red as a tomato.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he remarks.

You remove your clothes and dip your leg into the water. As you slide the rest of the way in, your foot slips and you begin to fall. Jake’s hands grab your under arms and he gently lures you into the warm water. As soon as you’re submerged he steps away and once again, faces the wall.

“That was a quick save, are you sure you weren’t watching?” you joke, enjoying how nervous he is.

“Nothing worth looking at.” he lets out a deep breath and turns to face the door.

“Really? Because Jake junior seems to disagree.”

“Call me when you’re done.” he yells from the hallway, making you laugh to yourself.

You spend the next eight minutes carefully scrubbing your wound. You pay a bit of attention to the ones on your arms and face, cleaning them so they won’t get infected. When you’re clean enough, you yell for Jake to return. When he doesn’t return in a few minutes, you curse and grab a towel. On your feet again, your legs tremble and you’re nauseous again. Stepping out of the tub, your knee gives out just enough to have you clinging onto the edge of the railing.

“Jacob Kiszka!” you yell again, eyes watering from the pressure on your wound.

“Jesus.” he says, grabbing your waist and helping you up straight. “I was coming.”

You smack his chest and push him off of you. When you’re all wrapped up in your towel, Jake helps you back to the room. He waits outside as you find underwear and a bra, and you smile to yourself when he peaks in every once in a while to ‘make sure you’re okay.’ You directed him to soak a gauze pad in saline solution, and when he returns, you’re waiting for him on your bed. His arm extends to you in an attempt to hand you the cloth.

“No. I can’t look at it, I’ll be sick.” you tell him. “Just dab the area.”

He does as he’s told, his weight sinking the edge of the bed. His fingers carefully apply the cloth to your wound and you shudder under his touch. With a sheen of sweat on your face and tight muscles, you focus on Jake. His hands are skilled and callused from the many years he’s been playing guitar. His tongue sticks out from between his two lips, just enough for you to see. The hand that isn’t on your wound, sits on the mattress, brushing against your waist. You’re glad you have the excuse of an injury to hide your unsteady breathing.

“That should be fine, thanks.” you push his hand away. “Grab the gauze and tape.”

Standing to your feet again, you move in front of him. His legs spread open as you slip between them, your cheeks burn intensely. Placing gauze on your wound, you have Jake tape you up. His hands are gentle as they apply the tape across your body. His hands press it down, careful not to apply too much pressure that it will hurt any other scratches. He’s still seated as he works, and you spin so he can apply more on the front for support. Your hands are above your head holding your hair out of his face. He’s almost eye level with your bra, and you watch him do his best not to look. When he’s finished, he clears his throat and pats his legs.

Neither of you move.

His chocolate brown eyes stare up at you, raking over your collarbone and shoulders. He licks his lips as you remove your hands from your hair, allowing it to fan out over your shoulders. His eyes engulf your body, absorbing your skin like he wants to drown in you.

“Gonna apologize yet, Jakey?” you ask, running a finger along his jawline.

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, eyes still bleeding into yours.

“Not exactly what I imagine you doing in my dreams but it’ll suffice.”

You watch his lips part as he stands to his feet, grabbing your shoulders to move you so you’re in front of the bed. Hands gripping your shoulders, he lowers you to the ground. He’s firm, but still wary of your wound.

“Undo my belt.” he directs, thumbs stroking your chin.

“W-what?” you shudder. “My stomach-”

“You don’t suck dick with your stomach, do you?” he asks. When you don’t answer, he smirks and taps your shoulder. “Come on now.”

Without another word, you hastily undo his belt, tossing it to the side. Once his pants are unbuttoned, you pull them to his knees. You stare at him hard in his boxers, your mouth watering. In one swift tug, he’s free and bouncing in front of you. Your hand reaches for him, but he smacks it away and grabs a fistful of hair.

“Tongue.” he demands. You stick it out, flattening it so the tip of him can slide in. He hits the muscle a few times before sliding himself down your throat. You watch his eyes squeeze shut, chest heaving. He pulls out and removes his shirt, leaving the top of him bare. “Tap twice if you want to stop.”

Without giving you time to respond, he shoves himself down your throat. You gag immediately, your chest heaving. He snaps in and out of you, hands tucked into your hair. You concentrate on breathing as he fucks your face. Drool falls from the corner of your mouth and onto the floor, coating your knees. You watch Jake through teary eyes, his head thrown back and mouth wide open.

“That’s my good girl. Your mouth is so much better at this than comebacks.” he groans, his cock twitching in your mouth. Your throat burns as tears stream down your face. “Fuck, gonna cum.”

A few seconds later, he released himself, coating the back of your throat. You gag viciously as you swallow him, his dick still stuffed down your throat. After he’s done, but pulls himself out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. Surprisingly, you’ve forgotten all about your injury.

After a minute of you collecting yourself, Jake grabs your arms and helps you to your feet. Your legs are wobbly from the uncomfortable kneeling position so you lean into his body. He holds you, hands working at the clasp of your bra. You help him, pulling the clothing off your chest entirely. He hums at the sight of you before cupping your cheeks in his hands.

His thumb traces your lips and then wipes tears away from your eyes. You breathe loudly, still gathering yourself. His hands caress your jaw and then move to the back of your neck before trailing down the skin of your back. He’s mindful of where it hurts, and maps it out in his head to remember.

A minute later, your eyes are finally able to find his. He smirks at you and the corner of your mouth twitches upwards. Hands wrapped around your head, thumb resting by your ear, he tugs you into a kiss. It’s soft at first as he tastes himself on your tongue, but slowly gets more heated. Your tongues dance, small whimpers exchanging between the two of you. You pull back to gasp for air, but Jake leans farther in, eyes closed with wet lips parted. You swallow his lips again, sinking into his touch. He trails warm, wet kisses across your chin and nibbles on your neck hard enough to leave a mark. You smile as he kisses across your collar bones and in the space between your aching breasts.

His hand settles on the small of your back while the other begins to push you onto the bed. He watches your facial expressions for any signs of pain, but the only pain you’re paying attention to is the throbbing between your legs. Once you’re fully flattened, he takes one of your breasts into his mouth, the other being occupied by one of his rough hands. He toys with your hardened nipples, swirling his tongue skillfully over the peak of it. He switches, repeating the same actions a few times before capturing your lips in another desperate kiss.

“Jake, I can’t have sex like this.” you admit through heated kisses.

“We won’t. Just let me make this whole thing up to you, okay?” he breathes against your cheek, his fingers messing with the hem of your panties.

“Okay.” you give him permission and he slides down your body.

He kisses your stomach, hands fluttering over your skin. You shiver under his touch, your arousal pooling between your legs. When he reaches your heat, he plants a firm kiss on your clothed pussy, eyes never breaking away from yours. You moan, jaw hanging open. He slips the fabric off of your legs before spreading your thighs with his hand. Hovering above you, he stares into your core.

“Oh she’s pretty.” he licks his lips before laying flat on his stomach. Your heart thumps as you watch his finger drag through your folds. When your hips thrust up, he slips his hands under you and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Watch me.”

You position yourself on your elbows, watching his tongue dig into you. You pull back, a moan falling from your lips. He keeps his grip tight, pulling you back into his mouth. He absorbs you, sucking and twirling his tongue across your bundle of nerves. You’re sweating, breathing heavy as you snake your hands through his chestnut brown locks.

“Fuck, yes.” you whimper. “Feels so good, Jake.”

He pulls back, removing his hands from your ass. You begin to throw a fit, but he pauses that thought when he slides a digit into your entrance. Your eyes immediately roll in the back of your head.

“Keep talking.” he directs. “And don’t move. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” he flashes you a smile that you ignore.

His single finger moves in and out of you at a steady pace, but you’re aching for more. “Add another.” you tell him. He obliges quickly, adding a second finger into the mix.

You arch your back at the feeling, his eyes laser focused on your reaction. Placing the palm of his hand on your lower abdomen, he holds you down against the sheets to keep you from moving. Then, his fingers pick up their pace, curling ferociously inside of you. A bunch of lude, pornographic sounds leave your mouth as you tremble around him.

“Fuck yes, Jake! Feels so good, baby. Don’t stop.” you beg.

The sound of his fingers working into you creates a wet sound through the whole cabin. Desperate to see his face right now, your eyes shoot open and find it. He’s sweating, tongue protruding from his lips like they were when he dabbed your wound earlier. He’s watching his fingers fuck you, encouraging himself quietly.

“Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he asks. “Come on, pretty girl. Let it go.”

Your legs shake violently as your whole body explodes. Stars flash through your black eyelids, as your body releases. You’re withered underneath him, his name sounding like a prayer from your lips. It takes you a few moments to come out of it, but when you do, Jake’s fingers are in his mouth, sucking your arousal off of his digits. Crawling over you, he places each arm on either side of his head.

“Want a taste? You taste like honey.” he says, grabbing your lips. Your tongue swirls in his mouth, tasting your cum along with his saliva. Your fingers tug at his long hair, body arching against him. He pulls away quickly. “Woah there.”

“Jake it doesn’t hurt.” you tell him. He just stares at you with a raised eyebrow. “Jake! I need you to fuck me right now. I can’t feel it, please.”

“You’re gonna hate me tomorrow.” he groans, parting your legs and lining himself up.

“I hate you right now.” you hiss as he slips into you. Your hands claw at his back as he swiftly moves in and out of you. You curse his name, begging for more.

“What an odd thing to say when my cock is buried in your tight cunt.” he kisses the crown of your head. “God, like fucking velvet baby.”

“Fuck it, Jake. Fuck me like you hate me.” you plead.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

He begins to pound into you, his strokes deep and rough. You cry his name as your skin slaps together, filling the room. One of your hands pulls at the roots of his hair, making him moan into your shoulder. Your other once, digs into his back. Your fingernails dig into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t complain. His thrusts grow sloppy and his breaths are loud and aggressive.

“You gonna cum for me, Jake?” you ask in a sweet voice.

“You’re the one squeezing me. God, feels so fucking good.” he cries, reaching a hand between your two bodies.

You gasp as his fingers make contact with your clit and begin to rub tight circles into it. You buck from under him, legs trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Jake keeps fucking you until you’re coming down from your high. Quickly, he removes himself from you and positions himself on your stomach.

“You look so pretty when you cum. Even prettier when you moan my name like that.” he grunts, fisting himself.

“Cum for me, be a good boy.” you urge him on. His eyebrows draw together as he shoots his ropes of cum across your stomach. You watch his mouth fall open, eyes clamped shut. “Yeah, baby.” you say as he finishes.

He sits back on his heels, eyes on the ceiling as he breathes. You watch him, taking the time to admire the sheen of sweat across his body. He reaches a hand down and you take it. Carefully, you sit up and he pulls you into his arms. You both sit there in each other’s grasp, your breathing lulling the both of you. His cheek is resting on your head, yours glued to his chest. His hands rub your back, massaging it gently with his callused hands. After a few more moments, you pull away and lay on your back. He joins you, wrapping his arm under your neck for you to use as a pillow.

“Are you okay?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah. Doesn’t even hurt.” you tell him, lying a bit.

“At least when you walk funny tomorrow they won’t think anything of it.” you both share a laugh. “I’m really sorry, by the way. What I did was shitty and inexcusable.”

“Oh well.” you pat his chest. “At least now I know to never trust you again.”

“Hey.” he says, offendedly.

“You’re gonna have to make it up to me.” you say, a finger tracing his jaw.

“How?” he questions.

“I have a few ideas in mind.”

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