#samuel francis kiszka | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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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sparrowofthedawnsworld · 7 months

Text

Sweet Talker - Sam Kiszka

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

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

MASTERLIST

••••

Sam’s voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I fucking…love it…”

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

Now that…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@wildbluesorbit @jaketlove

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@sunandthemoontwinflames

@shutupdevvie @jakesguitarsolo

@ageofbarbarians @streamsofstardust

@gvfpal @theweightofjake

@twistedmelodies @belovedsamuel

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@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @losfacedevil

@starcatcher-jake @gardensgatedaisy

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seenoversundown · 3 months

Text

Succulent

Sam x Fem OC

Warnings: 18+ Smut (Minors DNI) Praise Kink, Edging, mentions of Choking (very mild) Dom Sam, Oral (F & M receiving) Fingering, Penetrative sex, Cockwarming, Degradation in the form of condescension, Spanking (if you squint) , and finally some fluff.

Word Count: 6.3k

Author's Note: Just a little treat for you hehe 🤭 Enjoy!

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Succulent (adjective) (of food) tender, juicy, and tasty

Birdie POV

“I’m so excited.” I’m giddy with anticipation in the front seat of Sam’s new truck, a Toyota Tundra he named ‘Mr. Big’ after the character in Zootopia. He tried to stick it out as long as he could with Edith, poor guy, but she gave up all on her own. Though I have to say, I much preferred Edith over Mr. Big. I think I just get nostalgic for all the adventures we took with her.

The three hour journey has been a lengthy one, but with the long winding road coming into view, I know we're close. I’ve never been to Stowe, Vermont before but I know it's a popular vacation spot. Vermont lends a same outdoorsy feel as home while not being too far away, the perfect getaway spot. Sam reaches a hand across the console and takes mine in his, my heart squeezing along with the pressure of his fingers. I can’t help but stare at him. We’ve made it so far over the last, almost two years. Learning so much from each other, testing each other, pushing each other. God, we’re so ingrained in the very make-up of each other at this point I forget we haven’t even celebrated our second anniversary yet.

“I think this is it.”

We pull into a long driveway and up to a gorgeous natural wood cabin with a two-car garage. There are windows on either side of the chimney who’s brick is exposed to the outside, oh there’s a fireplace, and a porch that runs the length of the house. Fresh snow adorns the large yard, and I just know that the view from the inside is going to be so beautiful in the morning.

“Oh, Sammy. This is incredible!” I exclaim. I scoot to the edge of my seat, trying to get a better view.

“Wait til you see the inside, there’s 3 bedrooms and a sauna,” shooting me a wink before putting the truck in park.

“A sauna, huh?” I lean an elbow on the center console and pull him in for a slow kiss by the front of his jacket. “I’m definitely getting some use out of that.” I press another quick kiss to his lips before I unbuckle my seatbelt. Sam slides out of the truck and grabs our bags from the back seat, tossing both backpacks, one on top of each other, over his shoulder. I exit the truck and meet him around the front; he pulls me close to his chest, both of us trying to preserve a bit of warmth now that the biting winter air has surrounded us.

“It’s ours for the whole week,” he whispers into my hair, pressing his lips to my temple. “Just the two of us.”

“Let’s go, let’s go!” I head toward the entryway pulling him by the arm.

Once the door is closed, we take a left through the tiny hallway, the same natural wood as the outside covering the walls. Sam sets down our bags, sticking his head in each door, trying to get a feel for the place.

“These are the spares and the main floor bathroom. The Master bed is upstairs and has a loft area I think.” He takes my hand again, his hand warm around my chilly one. I’m forever thankful that he’s a very hot-blooded individual. “Yeah, it’s through here.”

We walk past a set of stairs on the left and the kitchen on the right. I can feel the enthusiasm radiating off of him like a solar flare as he tries to scope out each corner before I get a chance to catch up to him.

“Look at the view, Birdie!” he beams, eyes bright and arms wide open. “There’s a breakfast bar for our mornings and the fireplace to keep us toasty, though I’m not sure we’ll need help in that department.” He points around the living room. I keep a comment about the terrifying bear skin located above said fireplace to myself.

“I definitely don’t, I have you to keep me warm.” I meet him in the middle of the floor and slide my arms around his middle, locking my hands behind his back. He rubs at my shoulders. “That’s right,” he says, placing an innocent kiss to my nose. “But we’re still going to use it.” We pull apart from each other so he can continue the tour despite both of us never having been here before.

“I would never rob you of such a joy then. Proceed, kind sir.” I tease in a slight British accent, making a small bow. When we reach the top of the stairs we come to the small loft area, complete with a lovely day bed by a window that the sun peaks through. We step forward through the set of doors, passing the bathroom, and into the Master bedroom.

“This.. is the master bedroom. But the best part,” he doubles back to the bathroom, opening the door wide and stepping inside to make room for me to follow.

“The sauna is in our bathroom.” My eyes light up. He hums out an encouragement, tugging me back into his body by my wrist. I hit him with a light thud.

“I can’t wait to fuck you in there.” He growls lowly into my ear. My breath hitches in my throat, and immediately, my cheeks start to flush. His words hit me entirely to my core, and I resist the urge to press my legs together for relief. I wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of knowing he's gotten to me this early in the trip, not when we have a whole week ahead of us.

“So what’s on the itinerary for tonight then?” I inquire, head tilted up so I can stare into his chestnut eyes.

“I’m so glad you asked my little bird.” He takes my hand in his, once again leading me toward the living room. “Once I grab the cooler from Mr. Big, I’ll pour you a glass of wine, and you can get relaxed, while I cook dinner. We can set up by the fire and eat on the floor like all romantic movies do in log cabins in the woods.” He brushes the hair out of his face and chuckles a bit. “I even packed that nice fuzzy blanket you love so much. It’ll be like our own romantic indoor picnic,” he continues.

“Wow, Sammy. You thought of everything, didn't you.” A swell of pride thrums through my chest.

Something I’ve learned over my time with Sam is that he always means well, even if his execution isn’t the best. And trust me, there have been some poor executions. Each mishap more endearing than the last, but this time, it really seems like he’s gotten the hang of the romance thing.

“Gunna be honest with you. I asked every single one of my brothers for advice and did a lot of studying.” he huffs out a slightly uncomfortable laugh and scratches at the back of his neck.

“Studying? What does studying mean?” I giggle.

“Well, your job has sent you on a couple trips this last month. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Daniel has his hands full with the girls, Josh and Jake are always busy. Bar stuff or whatever.” He shifts awkwardly between his feet. “I just.. watched a lot of romcoms and romance movies. Ya know, the kind you always like to watch.” he does a little double snap clap with his hands.

I bark out a loud laugh and clutch my tummy. Oh, I love him.

“Hey!” he says a bit defensively.

“I’m not laughing AT you, Babe. I promise. That’s just the cutest fucking thing you’ve ever said to me. C’mere,” I hold my arms out for him to fit between. “Thank you. This week is going to be perfect no matter what. But the effort you’re making means the most to me, you know that.” I hug him tightly, hoping to convey just how appreciative I am.

No one has ever loved me the way he has. His love is messy and goofy. His love is filled with laughter and childlike wonder. Adventure and weekend trips. Nights snuggled on the couch and days when we don’t leave bed. Kisses peppered on cheeks and hips gripped mean. Arguments that end wrapped around each other because despite falling madly in love, we still try to get under each other's skin for fun. He has my entire heart, and I can’t bear the thought of my life being any other way.

“Now go get that cooler,” I slap his butt lightly. “I’m ready for some wine.”

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As I sip my wine and warm my toes by the fire, I look over my shoulder at Sam who’s slaving away in the kitchen.

“Do I get a hint?” I call over to him. He looks so cute, a dish rag slung over his shoulder, face knit in concentration. The cream cable-knit sweater he dons was a personal request of mine. He agreed on the pretense that I would wear the red sweater he loves so much. At least we’re on theme for the holiday.

“No,” he says plainly, clearly focused.

“Oh, that’s no fun.” I turn and kneel backward on the couch, giving him my best pout, trying to distract him. His eyes dart to me before falling back to his work, he smiles wide.

“You’re cheating. You know I can’t resist that face.” He steals another glance at me.

“I’m doing no such thing.” I protest. “I am simply inquiring about what my boyfriend is making me to eat.” I hop off the couch, setting my glass on the coffee table. I meet him in the kitchen, sneaking my arms around his waist and firmly planting my cheek against his back. He moves a little slower with me clinging to him but he doesn’t shoo me away, just lightly pats my wrist with one of his hands and continues to work. I take in a deep breath, inhaling the aromas from the meal.

“It smells good, babe.” I hop onto the free bit of counter beside him. He puts the lid back on the pan and turns his attention to me.

“It needs to simmer for a few minutes.” He winks at me, delicately fitting between my legs, his hands sliding up the fabric of my leggings before settling on my hips. I giggle, and he scoots me to the edge, bringing me closer to his body. I place my hands on the nape of his neck, sliding my fingers through the hair he’s messily tucked into a bun. I tug gently, and his mouth opens, and eyes close. Why does he have to be so pretty? It's moments when he looks like this that I wish I could take photos with my mind. What I wouldn’t give to take that photo out on a rainy day…

I lean in and close the gap between us, our lips meeting in a sweet kiss. Not urgent or needy. The kind of kiss where you simply tell each other how full your heart is.

He hums against my mouth. “Mm, if you distract me, I’ll burn the food.”

I pepper kisses along his cheek and jaw, and he reaches over to tend to the pan. “Can you please gimme a hint?”

“And ruin the surprise?” His arm moves, stirring whatever he’s making with a wooden spoon. As easy as it would be for me to just look over, I'm too distracted by nibbling at his ear to bother trying to sneak a peek.

“Come on, baby,” I whisper seductively in his ear. I plant a kiss on any expanse of skin I reach, repeating the word please over and over again until… He gives in. I feel his throat swallow beneath my touch.

“Remember the first time we went out together?” He gently clears his throat.

“On our first date? Yeah, you took–”

“No, the first time we ate together at a restaurant. Where we went.” he cuts me off. I can see the amusement settle on his face as he sees me try to look through the filing cabinet in my brain.

Oh.

“You took me to the cheese place.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, the cheese place.” He laughs. “You ordered the mushroom risotto, and you loved it. I figured since we haven’t actually been back..” he trails off.

I leave him to finish cooking, suddenly very excited for our meal now that I know what we’re having. Instead, I rearrange the living room to make a spot for us to eat. I move the coffee table off to the side, freeing up the space in front of the fireplace. Digging through the other bag Sam packed for us, and finding my favorite cream colored fuzzy throw blanket. Big enough for all nearly six feet of him and myself to fit under when we cuddle on the couch. I grab the coasters for our drinks, setting them on the hearth, and plop a couple pillows for us to sit on. Mostly for me because I apparently have a ‘bony ass,’ according to him. By the time that I’ve got everything settled Sam is walking through the living room with two bowls, one in each hand. He sets them on the hearth, grabbing my glass and running off to the kitchen for a refill.

“Here you go, Birdie,” he says, handing me my glass and sitting down in front of me.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“God, that was so good.” I rub at my tummy. He smiles at me over the top of his glass as he sips his wine. “This has been a really good start to our mini vacation.” A much needed vacation if I’m being honest. I feel like I’ve hardly spent any time with him this month. He reaches out, placing his palm on my cheek. Stroking his thumb along my cheekbone.

“I’m glad you’re happy, baby.” He says sweetly. And I am. So fucking happy I didn’t think it was possible. I adjust on my pillow, kicking my legs out in front of me and rubbing my feet against his legs. His hand finds my ankle rubbing smooth circles on the tiny patch of skin he finds.

“I hope you saved room for dessert.” He says, his fingers delicately sliding up my leg.

“There’s dessert? Why didn’t you tell me that before.” I set my glass down on the hearth and scoot closer to him. His fingertips slide up the inside of my thigh.

“Of course, there’s dessert. You think I’d make you a lovely dinner and not have dessert too?” He teases, his fingers dangerously close to my core. I smile in satisfaction, his hands feeling too good as they dance over me. He pulls me in for a short kiss. “I really think you’re gonna love what I have planned.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” His fingers find the hem of my sweater, and he pulls it over my head. Revealing the dusty pink floral lace bra I’m wearing. He stares at me for a moment. Taking me in.

“Lie back, babygirl,” he instructs, using a nickname he’s reserved only for intimacy. I do as I’m told, as all good girls do, and connect with the plush blanket laid beneath us. I can still feel the warmth of the fire heating my left side, though after time spent for dinner, it has dimmed a bit. Like our own personal, romantic light setting. I stretch my arms out above my head and close my eyes, waiting. He grabs the waistband of my leggings, tugging them down my legs and tossing it to the side.

“God, you look good enough to eat.” He spreads my legs and sits on his knees between mine. “But you know that, don’t you?” I can feel his eyes of admiration on me. Like an invisible touch skimming down my body over every curve and divot. I anticipate his touch, resisting the urge to open my eyes. I try to guess where his hands will land when he does finally decide to reach out and touch me. Sam loves the game, though, the cat and mouse before the main act. And the cocky tone of his voice gets me going every time.

“Words, Baby.” He demands. The rush of pressure I feel between my legs at that moment is my favorite part of being with Sam. My heart pounds in my ribcage.

“Yes.” I squeak out. “I wanted to look good for you.” Every second he delays touching me my breath quickens. The sound of his pants against the blanket causes my stomach to flip. The cool air coming with whatever movement he’s making sends a chill down my spine, and goosebumps to appear on my skin. I hear the soft thud of what I hope is his sweater. Please be shirtless, please be shirtless. Even after all this time, the sight of him still makes me salivate.

A delicate hand caresses my thigh, and I twitch slightly at the unexpected touch.

“You did such a good job for me.” His sweet praise is music to my ears as his fingers glide toward my hip. “Look at you, so beautiful and laid out for me. Ready for me to take when I want.” He squeezes gently when he reaches his destination, and the cocky laugh that follows sends a flood of arousal to my core.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and listen to me tonight?” I smile ear to ear and nod emphatically.

“Good.” He continues. He catches the hem of my panties with his pointer finger and follows along the edge of the blush-pink colored lace. When he reaches where I most desire him, he puts pressure along my pussy with the back of his finger and then snaps the fabric. The sharp sting is welcomed, but the absence of his touch makes me whine audibly.

He places each hand on the floor next to my shoulders, hovering over me. As he runs his nose up the length of my neck, he opens his mouth to breathe hot air in its wake. “So needy already?” He asks when he reaches my ear. “But I’ve barely touched you.”

“Please,” I beg. Knowing it’s what he wants to hear, but not holding out hope for my favor.

“Please, what, baby?” The husky tone of his voice sends a chill down my spine. He reaches his tongue out and flicks at my earlobe.

“Fuck me. Please.” My face scrunches in another desperate whine.

He tuts quietly, “I’m only getting started, baby.”

I know as soon as the words leave his lips that I’m in for a long night. A slow form of torture that I’ll be thankful for come the morning.

He pushes himself up and sits back on his heels. He taps my hip, signaling me to raise them, and he hooks his fingers under the lace of my underwear, sliding it down the length of my legs, discarding the material next to his shirt. Placing both hands on each respective knee, he spreads me wide, and his mouth drops open at the sight of me. My eyes fall to his plush, rosy lips.

“Mmm,” he hums, running his tongue along his top lip. “Good enough to eat, indeed.”

Sam settles on his stomach, his left arm hooking around my leg. I hum at the heated contact of his palm, splayed across my lower abdomen. I can feel the cool air hit my dripping pussy as he takes slow breaths, plotting my demise. He lets out another arrogant laugh, no doubt satisfied at how I glisten by the firelight.

He rests his head against my thigh, now purposeful with the air he blows on me. I shudder a little, letting out a tiny gasp of air. The throbbing between my legs is so intense I can practically feel it in my throat. I swallow thickly. His free hand dances up the inside of the thigh he’s not resting against, his mouth open with a slight smile. Oh the fun he’s having, like I’m his own personal plaything. I would do anything to make him happy if it meant I experience this continued arousal. He tickles back and forth over the crease of my groin. So close and yet just far enough away from where I want him. No, where I need him. I bite my lip to try and center myself.

He finally makes contact with me, dragging his middle finger tantalizingly slow down the center of my pussy. My teeth sink into my lip so hard I nearly draw blood when the pressure reaches my clit; he continues until he meets where my wetness is pooling for him. He takes a moment to thoroughly coat the tip of his finger before he pops it into his mouth, savoring the taste of me.

“You’re so wet for me, sweetheart. And you taste so fucking good. How did that happen?” He teases, but I don’t laugh. He reaches down, slowly inserting his first two fingers, but he doesn’t move them.

His teasing is so torturous I cry out. The thrum of my heart beats around his fingers, and I clench, trying to coax him into movement. I should know better.

“I know, baby girl, I know. You’re going to listen to me, though, and you’ll get what you want.” He places a gentle kiss on my thigh, “I’ll give you everything you want.”

I shake my head, feeling around for the blanket to bunch in my palms, giving my hands something to do.

“I’ve been thinking about dessert since we left, and I already know how sweet it is.” Sam continues his kisses, descending to my pussy. “I’m hungry, I think it’s time for a treat. I want you to relax for me, babygirl.” Everything his mouth is doing effectively distracts me from the fingers remaining stilled inside me.

He places a gentle kiss to the top of my slit and begins his assault. Finally, he licks up the center of me, flicking my clit with just the tip of his tongue. I moan at the contact, all that build-up finally paying off. I squeeze around his fingers, attempting to speed up the race to the finish line..

And he stops.

I whine at the loss of contact.

There’s always a game.

I look down at his wicked grin. “I told you to relax, babygirl.” His playful tone is as arrogant as ever. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His brow furrows with his question, and his lips shine with the evidence of me.

I nod slowly.

“Good girls listen.” One eyebrow cocks toward his hairline. “Let’s try again.”

Sam’s mouth is on me again, and I try to concentrate on breathing instead of the steady attack of his tongue against my clit. In fast, short licks, he slowly drives me to insanity. The heat of pleasure radiates over my body, a hot pulse running through me in waves. I will myself to calm down every time I start to tighten my walls, attempting to breathe and focus on something else, anything else. But the force of his tongue lapping at me is overriding my brain, and I can’t help myself. I clench hard in search of release, pulling the blanket clutched in my hands toward my chest for leverage in my chase.

He stops once more.

I groan out angrily and lay myself flat, resuming my original position.

“So needy and so pathetic. You can’t even handle it, can you?”

When I don’t respond, he strokes his fingers inside me a few times, suddenly remembering their place inside me. I jolt up to my elbows, tightening my fists around the blanket I still clutch. The shock of a moment of pleasure settling in my stomach before dissipating.

“You know I love to hear your pretty little voice, baby. Come on, use your words for me.”

I swallow before I beg for any amount of relief. “Please, Sammy. Please.”

He slides his left hand up my stomach, a gentle push signaling me to lie back.

“When you learn to relax, you’ll be rewarded. The only thing standing in the way of that right now is you.”

This time, the forefinger and thumb come down and spread my lips open, exposing me to him fully.

“Come on, baby, I know you can do it.” He coaxes gently. He’s careful not to make contact with any other part of me, so the only thing I can feel is the tip of his tongue on my increasingly sensitive nub. Little beads of sweat start to collect around the nape of my neck from the struggle of self-control. The pleasure is so intense I fear I won’t be able to think straight for a week when I finally reach my release. My pussy starts to flutter gently around his fingers again; every time I twitch, I relax the muscles as best I can.

“That’s it, baby.” He comes up for air long enough to utter his praise, and he’s descending again. Somehow the momentary break increases the tension slowly building in me.

I tighten once more at his words and relax just as fast. I bite out quickly, “Don’t stop Sammy, please. I can do it.. I can do it.” my voice trails off. I work evening breath enough to let my orgasm ascend on its own without the encouragement of actions.

He pulls back the hood of my clit with his thumb, and that’s the moment I begin to unravel completely. I yell out as I fight against my body's own natural instincts and the pleasure of it all; he continues the onslaught against my bundle of nerves, using the arm hooked around my leg to keep me in place. I writhe underneath his grasp as the tension finally snaps, my body going numb as my orgasm finally washes over every bit of me. My head clouds, and my body feels like it's floating. I immediately contract, my hands finding purchase in his hair, pulling tightly as the stimulation becomes too much. He moans against my pussy, causing me to jerk again. My voice echoes through the large living room. I reach my left hand out, meeting the brick of the hearth, trying to steady myself. He slows his movements, easing me out but still causing small ripples of pleasure with every affectionate lick and kiss of my pussy. I brush the tendrils sticking to my forehead out of my face and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Good girls who listen get rewarded.” He says smugly, licking at his lips covered in my orgasm. He looks so sexy, god. I lunge at him, tackling him to his back. Landing in a hard thud against the soft blanket, I kiss him, needy and desperate. A surge of energy running through me from the adrenaline, followed by a wave of arousal as I taste myself on his lips.

“You sound so sexy when you cum.” He says between my efforts to lap up every last remaining bit of myself still lingering on his mouth. “I’d put that on a loop for hours if I could.”

I cry out, “Oh god.” I start a path of kisses from his neck down his chest as he continues.

“Yeah? You like the idea of me listening to you cum over.. And over again? A little audio stored in my phone for me to listen to while I’m out?”

I nod furiously against his soft stomach, the tiniest bit salty from the sweat we’ve worked up. I run my hand down over the front of his black sweats, feeling his length beneath my fingers.

“While I’m buying groceries?” I nod again; his fingers tangle themselves in my hair.

“On my drive to work?” I nod once more, whining at his words. The sound of relief from his lips was enough to send my head spinning. He tugs at my roots just enough to hurt but still feel amazing. I work my way to the waistband of his joggers; I tug gently, exposing his hard length.

“No boxers?” I question teasingly. “Scandalous.” I laugh and press one last kiss to his stomach, taking a hold of him in my delicate hand.

“Mmm.” He tilts his head back as my fingers run over him. “Your turn for dessert, baby. Open.” He demands, and I obey. I open wide and stick my tongue out, waiting for him. He takes full advantage of that by pulling the hair clutched in his hand and guiding me to his cock. I wrap my lips around him; the sound of his pleasure is music to my ears. I move in quick, even motions up and down his shaft, my hand making up for the part of him I can’t swallow. Paying attention to every upstroke, I flick my tongue around the head. One of his hands makes its way to my cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb.

“Just like that, fuck.” He moans, gripping my hair tighter and tighter, spurring me on. I bob my head faster as encouragement falls freely from his lips. My arousal pooling and dripping down my leg with every sound spilling from his mouth. God, the mouth on him.

“You’re doing so good for me.” His hips start to jut, matching the movements of my mouth. Hands locked in my hair, he pulls my face to his base, pausing for a moment.

“Fuck.” he cries out and releases his grip. I come up for air, a trail of spit still linking us together as I catch my breath. My lungs working overdrive to make up for the loss of oxygen.

“I could fuck that mouth forever.” He says, and I let out a desperate whine.

“So do it.”

I clamor my way back to his cock, desperately needing to taste him on my tongue again. I flatten my tongue and lick from base to tip and then wrap my lips around him. I lock eyes with him as I focus on the head, knowing how sensitive he is there.

Sam’s nostrils flare, and he grunts out. The switch flipping in him that I needed. He’s always in control, but every once in a while, his feral side comes out. The uninhibited Sam that fucks me hard and rough, and god, if I don’t fucking need him right now.

He sits up on his knees, kneeling before me. Yanking his sweatpants further down to his thighs, and grabs me, one hand planted on either side of my face, and bites out, “Open.”

His cock slides into my mouth, his full length against my tongue, and he repeatedly meets the back of my throat. He shows me no mercy. His hands and hips taking control and working overdrive so I just sit there and take it. I gladly take everything that he gives me. Over and over again, my lips meet his pubic bone as he fucks my mouth. I reach for leverage, grabbing a hold of where his pants sit around his thighs. The repetition of ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips, calling my attention back to his face. His eyes bore into mine, and he pulls me off his dick. He lets out a yell of frustration; I know he’s holding back. Trying not to cum down my throat because the only place he cums is inside of me. ‘You’re mine, Birdie,’ he always tells me.

“Hands.” He points to the hearth, and I hustle on my knees to place my palms on the warm stone. He unhooks my bra, somehow the only piece of my clothing left remaining. I bend over, sticking my ass out, waiting for his return. I peek over my shoulder, sneaking a glance at him as he shimmies out of his sweats. He kneels behind me and gently runs his hand over my ass, up my back, and settling on my shoulder. He pulls me to his chest.

“Ready, babygirl,” he asks as he slides his hand around my throat, gripping gently, and I nod in response. His other hand curves around my body, grasping my breast in his palm. He gives it a rough squeeze before pinching my nipple. I suck in a breath through my teeth.

“Good.” he lets out a little chuckle and soothes my bud between his fingers, gently rolling out the pain. His fingers glide delicately down my torso, and he cups my heat.

“I’m gunna fuck this pretty cunt so good.” My mouth falls open, my head leaning back. Just as my head meets his shoulder, relaxing into his touch, he pushes me forward back to my hands.

He notches his cock at my opening, both hands bracing me by the hips, and slowly enters me. I moan out at the pleasure of him slowly stretching me, and I silently thank god for the fact that we are isolated out here. I couldn’t be quiet even if I tried.

The push and pull of his cock with each slow thrust softly warming me. I tilt my head back in pleasure as he starts to work up a rhythm. He delivers a hard smack against my ass, and I grip the stone hearth tighter, feeling the roughness under my palms. His hand rubbing at my cheek, soothing the sting.

“You feel so fucking good.” Sam’s breathy tone giving him away. “So tight. You love the way my cock fills you up, don’t you?” I push back to meet his thrusts, hoping to get him there quicker, the desire to give him all the pleasure he gave me earlier, overcoming my need for anything else.

“Yeah, you do. Look at you? So desperate. I bet if stopped moving, you’d fuck yourself right on my cock, huh?”

His hand grips my hip tightly, and he pulls me back by my hair. His hand resuming his place around my neck, tightening his grip ever so slightly. Just enough to notice but not enough to restrict my oxygen. His other arm wraps around my middle steadying me for continued thrusts of his hips.

“You have no idea how badly I want that, babygirl. But I’m having too much fun listening to the sounds you make as I fuck you.” He lets out a wicked laugh.

My jaw goes slack, and I bend my body more, allowing him deeper access with every thrust. The new angle driving him into my G-spot, sending me reeling. The intensity builds in my stomach and I know Sam can feel it too. I reach a hand back tangling my hand in the hair gathered at his neck. He slides down, parting my lips and toying with my clit. Small tight circles coax me toward my end. Little by little, unraveling under his fingertips. I clench around his cock, and he knows I’m done for.

“Come on, baby. Give it to me.” The sickly sweet tone of his voice in my ear sends a chill down my spine. I fight against the building pleasure, trying to hold out. My voice carries through the room, mixing with his heavy breath and the sound of our hips snapping together. Everything starts to become too much, and my muscles weaken; my hand falls to join his arm wrapped around me. Sam holds me tighter, keeping me steady against his chest.

“That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock. Do it.” I let go completely, falling over the edge and succumbing to the pleasure of Sam’s cock. I moan out a broken repetition of his name, and he fucks me through my orgasm. I feel so full when he’s inside me like I never want to be anywhere else. He slows his hips, allowing me a moment of reprieve. Our heavy breaths move in unison as we try to calm ourselves. He lays me gently back on my stomach, careful to stay tucked inside. My head resting against the pillow I was sitting on earlier, my skin soothed by the plush blanket. He joins me where I lay, resting half of his weight on me.

“Oh god. Sammy.” I cry out at the feeling of his cock inside my overstimulated cunt as he pulls out to the tip and slides back in again. My hand finds his thigh, nails digging into his skin, and he grunts out. He takes that as a sign to resume full force. His thrusts are hard and fast. Working himself up to meet his own end. His heady breaths against my ear could drive me to another orgasm if my body was capable.

“Oh fuck,” he growls. “I’m gonna cum.” his hips speed up, his pace unforgiving as his own release is in his sights. He holds his breath, and I brace myself, his hips snapping once more and pausing. Buried in me to the hilt, I feel his dick twitch with each spurt of release inside me. We let out a mutual ‘fuck’ as he releases. He teases himself slightly with gentle motions, slowly in and out of my pussy. His cum starts to leak out of me, landing on the blanket below.

When I feel him start to pull out of me fully I beg, “No, no, no. Please.”

“What baby?” He asks, confused.

“Stay. You feel too good.” I whine pathetically. He slides fully off my body to his side, sneaking his arm under my head and pulling me close, spooning me. His cock still tucked pleasantly inside of me.

“Is my little bird gonna warm my cock for me? Huh?”

I hum out an affirmation. “I really fucking needed that.”

“Yeah? You ready for that sauna yet?” He jests. “Little round two in there?” His hand makes its way to my breast, gently rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I laugh and snuggle in closer to him. “Thinkin’ about it.”

Need more Sam in your life? 🩷

Sparrow Of The Dawn Masterpost 🤭

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stardustbarbarians · 2 months

Text

Enchanted

A Daniel Wagner / Samuel Kiszka fic

Summary: Sometimes it takes some meddling to see what is right in front of you.

Tags: fluff, love spell au, very light angst, low-key funny

Words: 10.8 k

Author's Note: Happy (late) Valentine's Day!! I literally got the idea for this one the day of the holiday and proceeded to write this, thinking it would be at max like 2,000 words. So, yeah, this one kinda got away from me. Anyway, this is dedicated to @ofthecaravel for being more enthusiastic about this idea than I was (she also made the cover pic so everyone say thank you, Karou). Title taken from Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Please enjoy!! <3

+++

When Danny had the idea to go to the art fair near his house, he hadn’t thought he’d be walking away with an honest to god love potion. I mean, those aren’t real, right?? It’s all just made up for awful rom-coms and Disney movies. So, when that witchy woman had stopped him and gave it to him for free, he thought nothing of it.

He had been weaving through the various booths, eyes catching on all the colorful and sometimes gaudy wares these artists were trying to pedal. Some of them were honestly good, others were just clearly trying to make a quick buck. Danny bought a few things; a few jewelry pieces he thought were cute and a fresh squeezed lemonade.

“Danny?” a woman had spoken up, catching the drummer’s attention. He tensed up at being called out, hoping he wouldn’t be recognized but knowing it was always a possibility every time he left his house.

Schooling his features to be warm and inviting, Daniel turned on his heel to face the woman. She was what Danny could only describe as a “contemporary witch”, complete with long, black hair and a revealing yet classy black dress and a wide-brimmed black hat. Danny had to suppress his scoff at how on the nose she looked, glancing around her clearly witch-themed, yet populated, booth. But, it clearly worked to help sell her goods, so who was he to judge.

“Hey!” he responded, abandoning his wandering and making his way over to her. She smiled widely at him, her eyes lighting up as he approached.

“Oh, my god. My friends are never gonna believe me,” she rushed, her tattooed hands fluttering to her chest.

“How about we get a picture to prove it to them?” he offered, having gone through this enough times over the years to know that that was what most people were after when they spotted him.

She nodded, searching frantically for her phone. When she pulled it out from behind the register, Daniel noticed two things. One; her hands were shaking. Two; her lock screen was a picture of him and Sam posed together. It was a picture of them on stage, embracing and beaming at one another and - wow, is that really what he looks like when he smiles at Sam?

They took their picture, her asking for a hug from him which he happily gave her.

“So, what brings you over this way?” the woman - ironically named Greta - asked, leaning against the table she had set her register up on. Danny worried for a second as her long hair passed over a candle, only for him to realize it wasn’t real.

“Had a free afternoon to myself, thought I’d check the art fair out,” he answered honestly, a shrug of his shoulders tacked on at the end.

She nodded acceptingly. “Find anything interesting?”

Danny held up his fingers, wiggling them to show off the rings he purchased as well as shook his cup of lemonade in front of her, smiling. She laughed, her head tipping back a bit to show off a moth tattoo that rested under her clavicles.

“That’s all, huh? You must be pretty picky.” She looked him up and down, her eyes feeling strangely like they were able to see past his physical form. Danny blamed that on the witch-themed booth she ran.

Danny shrugged again. He didn’t think he was, but then again maybe he was.

“Here,” she blurted out, jumping up from her perch to brush past him to go deeper into her booth. Daniel watched as she stopped in front of a display of bowls that held vials of various shapes and sizes. Each one was sorted by color, some of them even seeming to glow which made Daniel do a double take. There was probably just a light fixed at the base of the bowl to give them that effect.

“On the house,” Greta chirped before tossing something at Daniel. He instinctively caught it, letting out a breath of relief that he had. When he got a proper look at it, Danny realized that she had thrown him a vial of baby pink liquid that had been sealed in a teardrop shaped glass vial. The top was a gradient into Barbie pink and formed to a point, sharp enough to probably kill a man. Daniel turned it over in his hand, the liquid sparkling in the light of the sun streaming in through an opening in the tent he was in.

“What is this?” he dumbly asked, already knowing what the hell it was.

“A love potion,” Greta flippantly answered. When Danny snapped his head up to look at the woman, he saw the mischievous glint in her eye that never reached her soft smile.

Daniel coughed on his own spit as he swallowed wrong. He covered it up by taking a few sips of his lemonade. He had no idea how to react to that.

“Uhh… that’s really kind of you, but I can’t take this.”

“Nonsense. I insist,” she pressed, waving off his concerns with a wave of her hand.

Daniel looked back and forth between the woman and the vial in his hand, weighing the pros and cons. Then he realized how ridiculous he was being. It was a kind gesture and love potions weren’t real.

He tucked the vial into his pocket of his jean jacket and smiled. “Thanks!”

“My pleasure,” she answered, that devilish gleam back in her eye as well as that feeling that she was seeing through him rather than at him, “and trust me, you will be thanking me later.”

That made Daniel chuckle a bit nervously. She was starting to creep him out a bit; time to make a quick exit.

“Right, well. Maybe I’ll see you at one of our upcoming shows!” Danny politely suggested, already backing out the way he had come in.

“Of course! Talk to you later!” Greta’s last sentence sent a shiver up Danny’s spine. It felt like a promise rather than a send off.

With one last quick smile, Danny got his ass out of there and trotted down the booths to get away. He definitely wanted to toss that so-called “love potion” away now. There was no telling what was actually in it. He’d just throw it into the next trash can he saw.

+++

Daniel did not toss it away. Instead, he forgot about it completely and left it in his jacket pocket. It stayed there for a month, silently waiting for the next time someone would wear that jacket and find it.

“Hey, Dan!” Danny was in his kitchen taking some ibuprofen for the headache he was fighting when he heard Sam call out for him.

With a big gulp and a gag he didn’t even try to suppress as he felt the pills catch on the side of his throat, Danny responded with a shout of his own. “Yeah?!”

“Can I borrow a jacket?! It’s cold as balls out and I don’t have one!”

Setting his empty glass of water in the sink, Daniel ran a hand through his curls. Sam had stopped over at Danny’s before the band’s scheduled studio time so the two of them could carpool.

“Yeah!” he shouted back. He went through a mental checklist to make sure he had everything he needed before he left, adding Sam to the bottom of that list.

“What the fuck is this in your pocket?!” Sam called out again, breaking through Danny’s concentration.

“I don’t know! I’m not over there!”

It was quiet again for a moment, Danny quickly going through his checklist again as he passed by his laundry room to grab some socks from the pile.

“Can I drink it?!”

Daniel, starting to get a little frustrated by Sam’s antics already, huffed out in exasperation.

“Go ahead!” he screamed harsher than he had meant to. But, really, how the hell was Daniel meant to know what the fuck Sam was talking about. It probably was a shot of fireball or something he never drank. And if Sam wanted to be tipsy while they recorded… Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“It tastes like bubblegum!” Sam excitedly exclaimed, his voice louder as Danny was just around the corner from where he was stationed by the front door.

“That’s great, buddy,” Daniel dismissed, walking past him briefly as he went to grab his sticks from the living room. Doing the pat down on his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet, Daniel finally rounded the corner to his front door only to see Sam sprawled out on the ground.

“Sam?” Danny cautiously asked, hoping Sam was just being theatrical over how long Danny was taking to leave.

But then he didn’t answer. Or move, for that matter.

“Sammy?!” Daniel was distraught now, tossing his sticks to the side as he kneeled down next to Sam to shake him.

He still wasn’t stirring, but at least his chest was moving. Daniel frantically searched for a pulse, lifting up his hand to check his wrist. That was when he spotted the nearly empty teardrop shaped vial in Sam’s hand and Danny’s heart sank even further.

“No no no no-” Danny chanted under his breath, pressing his fingers into Sam’s wrist. His heart rate slowed a bit when he was able to feel Sam’s pulse in his fingertips. He sighed deeply, feeling his shoulders sag in relief.

“C’mon, Sammy,” Danny implored, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and began to shake him. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to make his head loll around his shoulders.

When that didn’t work, Danny bit his lip as his brow knit together. He had an idea, but he’d feel awful for going through with it. With another sigh, Daniel resigned himself to it.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he murmured, pulling his right hand off the bassist’s shoulder. He reared it back and smacked it smartly against his friend’s cheek. Cringing at how loud the slap resounded in the echo-y chamber of his vestibule, Daniel smoothed his hand back over the pink mark blossoming on Sam’s face.

It worked, to Danny’s utter relief.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open as Daniel caressed his fingers across the angry outline of his hand, groaning as he lifted his hand to his forehead.

“What the hell happened?” Sam grumbled out, sitting up on his own. Danny sat back onto his heels, raking his eyes over Sam to check for any signs of danger.

“You drank the vial in my jacket and passed out, I guess,” Daniel tried to explain, the concern leaking through his tone. Sam still had yet to look at Danny, his eyes having shut once more as he sat fully upright.

Huffing out a laugh, Sam looked at the vial in his hand, a drop of that baby pink liquid slipping out of the opening and splattering onto the floor. He turned it over in his fingers a few times before he spoke again. “Hell of a rush.”

Daniel couldn’t help but snort, his worries easing significantly at the joke. Sam was going to be ok. Maybe a little groggy, but ok. That Greta girl should count herself lucky nothing worse had happened to Sam or else he’d bring down hell around her ears for hurting his best friend.

“Alright, Sam. Let’s get you up or else we’ll be late for studio time,” Danny grunted out as he hauled Sam up to his feet by his arm.

“Right, right,” Sam quietly answered, his hair flying out around him as he shook his head to presumably clear it.

And that was when Sam looked at Danny for the first time since he fell.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.”

+++

“Hey, guys, we might want to reschedule.”

“Yeah? And why is that?” Jake was the first one to look over at Daniel. And when he did, Danny watched as his entire body went rigid as his eyes flew wide open.

“Something wrong- oh my god.” That was Josh, this time. And just like Jake, Josh’s eyes got comically wide as he took in the sight of Danny and Sam.

And Daniel really couldn’t blame them. He’d have the same reaction if he saw his little brother clinging onto his best friend as if his life depended on it.

Sam had long since jumped into Danny’s arms, his arms and legs wrapped around Daniel as if he were a monkey and Daniel his favorite tree. He had refused to get down, Danny having tried to fight him in the parking lot before entering the studio to get him to walk on his own, but Sam was having none of it. Even on the drive over, Sam had tried to climb into Danny’s lap a few times all while gushing about how pretty he thought Danny was. He finally got Sam to stay in his seat after promising to hold his hand as he drove. But as soon as they stepped out of the car, it was no holds barred.

“What the hell is he doing?” Jake asked, his eyes still locked onto his baby brother’s strange behavior.

“I’m holding the love of my life!” Sam answered for Daniel. And if Daniel’s face wasn’t burning before, he was certain it was set ablaze by that. And the worst part was Daniel could tell Sam was using a genuine tone.

He watched the twins look between the two rhythm section members, their lips pursing as they took in the sight. Daniel wanted to hide his face in his hands, but they were currently holding his obnoxious best friend so he couldn’t.

“Oooooooooo-k. Umm, what the fuck is going on?” Josh had abandoned his station at his microphone, setting the equipment down on a chair to his left before he joined Jake at his side.

Danny sighed, his eyes closing in shame. He wanted to look everywhere else but at the twins and their calculating and bewildered gazes.

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” Daniel let out a squeak after he spoke, Sam surprising him with kisses he placed on the side of Danny’s neck where his head was nuzzled. He tried to pull away, but Sam just chased after him with his lips.

“Try us,” Josh answered, his arms crossing over his chest as his hip popped out. Jake was idly fiddling with his guitar, probably not even aware that he was playing at all, but his eyes never left Danny.

With a deep sigh, Daniel launched into the story of Greta and her stupid fucking love potion. While he was explaining, he knew his story sounded made up. I mean, for god’s sake, the titular character shared the name of their band. It just sounded like he was caught in a lie. The only thing he knew would work in his favor was the potion vial that he had the foresight of bringing with him.

It was a fight, but Daniel was able to wrangle Sam off of him and set his feet on the floor. However, the man still refused to let go of him completely. So Daniel had to live with Sam resting his head on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around Danny’s torso. With his hands finally free, Daniel was able to fish that vial out of his pocket and toss it over to the twins.

Josh caught it, Jake watching it sail over towards his twin with his eyes. Daniel watched as they inspected it, the baby pink liquid still shimmering in the light. He pointedly ignored Sam and his embarrassing antics. Or, at least he tried to. It was very hard when he kept peppering kisses all over Danny’s cheek and neck as he spoke sweet nothings into his ear. Danny felt shivers dance their way across his skin, his veins warming at all the contact and compliments. But he refused to indulge in them. Sam was not himself right now and he would be damned if he was going to take advantage of him. But, they still felt nice.

After a few seconds of turning over the evil liquid, Josh tossed it back over to Daniel.

“Alright,” Jake started, pulling the cord out of his guitar, “we believe you.”

“Really?” Danny was truly bewildered. He thought the twins were going to think it was some kind of stupid prank they were trying to pull on them. He was actually relieved they did.

“Yeah. We’ve never seen Sam act this way before. Plus he’s a dog shit actor,” Josh answered, a laugh escaping his lips after the last sentence. Danny had to agree; he’d seen the movies Josh had made where Sam was the lead. There weren’t that many.

“Oh, thank god. Because I need help.” Daniel’s tone was desperate, his hands trying to pull Sam’s off his waist. But every time he tried, Sam would just slide them back into place. He eventually gave up, huffing in resignation as Sam giggled in his ear. “Yeah, I’m gonna be honest with you on this one. I don’t know where we’ll even start,” Jake bluntly pointed out, placing his guitar on its stand.

“What if you two try to contact the people who organized the fair and see if you can find the woman who sold me the…” God help him, “...the potion.”

“Yeah, alright. What are you going to do?” Josh was already pulling out his phone, not looking at Danny as he spoke.

“I’m going to see if maybe she posted that picture and contact her that way,” Daniel explained, having to shove Sam’s hips away from his own in order to get his phone from his back pocket.

“Sounds like a plan. But how about we don’t do this here,” Jake posited, his eyes sliding over to where their producer and mixer were watching raptly as Sammy placed yet another series of kisses onto Danny.

They all agreed. They wanted to spare both men as much embarrassment as possible and also minimize the possibility of this leaking and sending the wrong message to their fan base.

Daniel offered up his house considering it was the closest.

“And I’ll drive lovebug here, too.” Danny hooked his thumb towards where Sammy’s face was pressed into the side of Danny’s, a dopey smile on his face as he nuzzled deeper into Danny.

“I don’t think you have a choice,” Josh so helpfully pointed out, trying poorly to suppress a laugh.

“Yeah, ha ha. Let’s go,” Daniel sharply ordered, trying once more to rip Sam’s arms off of him and failing.

“No, no, wait. Let us get one video for blackmail,” Jake quickly requested, already having his phone out and pointed at the two.

Danny, knowing that there was no way they’d relent, groaned and let Jake record his misery.

“Alright, Sammy. Tell us how you feel about Daniel,” Jake prompted, the laugh in his voice barely contained. The youngest perked up at the question, his smile getting brighter.

“Well, where do I even begin! There’s so much I feel about him,” Sam cooed, resting his chin against Danny’s shoulder as he spoke. Danny felt Sam’s hair slip off his own shoulder as Sam tilted his head to get a better look at Danny.

“Why don’t you start with the physical,” Josh, that bastard, piped up. Danny shot him a glare, Josh only responding with an “innocent” smile.

“Oh! That’s easy! He’s got these beautiful dark eyes that you can easily get lost in. They’re this gorgeous shade of amber brown that have this nice green in them that remind me of moss in the forest. Oh! And when they catch the light just right they’re so bright and I get butterflies. And speaking of butterflies, when he smiles at me I can’t help but feel like I’m going to pass out from how beautifully warm and overwhelming it is-”

“Alright,” Danny squeaked out, his voice cracking as his face began to heat up, “that’s enough.”

“No, no, we’re just getting to the good part. Sam, what else about Danny do you like?” Danny bared his teeth at Jake. He knew it was ineffective, what, with his face burning as bright as a stop light.

“Oh, his arms are really nice. I love it when he picks me up because then I can feel them flexing and it makes me all dizzy.” Sam’s voice was dripping in honey. It was so sweet it made Danny’s stomach ache.

“Really? And what about his freckles?”

“One of his best features, definitely. They get all dark and prominent in the summer when he gets more sun. He’s got 137 of them!”

“Alright that’s-”

“And what about Danny’s personality?”

“He’s the sweetest guy ever! I swear, he’s so sweet he gives me cavities. Like this one time, I was feeling really down in the dumps and then Danny went out of his way to get me a case of my favorite beer and made me laugh so hard I nearly pissed myself. He just knows me sooooo well. And also he takes care of Rose the best and he is always so gentle and loving with her… what isn’t there to love?”

“Ok, show’s over. We’re done here,” Daniel firmly decided, reaching out to yank Jake’s phone away from him and end the recording, holding it out of Jake’s reach as he tried to grab it back from him.

Danny tossed it back at him when he was done, watching the guitarist nearly fumble the device to the ground. He shot Danny a confused look at his shift in mood, but he didn’t respond. He simply held onto Sam’s arms as he turned the two of them around and made for the door.

As they walked to the car, Daniel pointedly did not think about the fact that Sam apparently just seemed to know how many freckles Danny had off the top of his head. Or how that made his heart flutter within his chest.

+++

The car ride back was considerably less dangerous than the drive over; Sam hadn’t tried to climb into Danny’s lap since he preemptively laced their fingers together. However, Sammy hadn’t stopped talking. And it wasn’t his usual babbling, no. It was much worse.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” The shock of it had worn off at the thirtieth time Sammy had confessed it to Danny, that first time making the drummer jump out of his skin. Now it was just getting annoying, like the beep of a smoke detector.

“You’re really hot,” Sam giggled, leaning his head across the consul and bumping it into Danny’s shoulder.

Danny just groaned, throwing his head into the headrest behind him and asking god what he did wrong to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment. It was one thing to toy with his destiny, it was another entirely to play around with his emotions.

“I hope we fucking crash,” he whined, the light turning green and taking his foot off the brake.

“I hope we fuck.”

Daniel felt his foot involuntarily slam down on the gas, forcing the both of them to jerk back in their seats as the engine loudly revved like an animal letting out a warning growl. Danny whipped his head over to Sam briefly, taking in his lashes batting flirtatiously and his wolfish grin. The driver felt his heart pounding in his chest, ripping his eyes away from his distracting passenger and forcing himself to look at the road.

“What?” he croaked out, not really wanting to hear it again but also wanting to know if he heard Sam right.

“You heard me,” was all Sam spoke in response, a dangerously flirtatious edge to his words that made Danny’s heart lurch in his chest.

“Just… Just keep those thoughts to yourself, ok?”

“Ok!” Sam cheerfully agreed, settling back down onto Danny’s shoulder. That was another thing about this that was driving Daniel slowly insane: Sam did almost everything Danny asked of him.

He was so, utterly fucked.

+++

“Ok, so Greta must be a popular name among artists or something because the fair organizer said there were about thirty booths registered under that name,” Jake explained after hanging up the phone. He tapped his pen on the pad of paper he’d been writing on idly, turned towards Danny’s spot on his couch. Sammy had tackled him onto it, curling up right against his chest like an oversized dog and refused to move.

“Did she give you the list of businesses, too?” Danny asked, having to crane his neck to look over at Jake.

“Yeah, and I was able to cross off a few of them already,” Jake answered, swiping away at his phone again.

“Nice work,” Danny praised, his eyes darting back to his phone. He and Josh had taken on scrolling through Danny’s instagram mentions in order to try and find the famed Greta. And, Jesus, people really loved tagging him in shit. They had been at it for hours and were still only finding posts from about two weeks ago.

“Is this her?” Josh hoisted his phone up into Danny’s field of view. Danny squinted as he analyzed the woman’s face.

“No,” he groaned, his frustration mounting as they had zero luck.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sam like this, it was just… It was too much. Yeah, maybe Danny had been dreaming about this exact scenario for years, but this wasn’t how he wanted to get it. He’d felt guilt slam into him with every touch Sam bestowed upon him as he remembered that Sam wasn’t in control of his actions. It was that stupid fucking potion that was making Sam all cuddly and cute; the normal Sam would never do that. The normal Sam wouldn’t repeatedly confess his love for Danny in a myriad of ways, or kiss his neck and cheeks, or cling to him every second of the day. No matter how badly Danny wanted it to be true, Sam just wasn’t in love with Danny like the drummer was in love with the bassist.

And that was the time that Sam decided to stir just enough to burrow deeper into his embrace with Daniel, grumbling something under his breath that was reminiscent of a cat purring. And just like it never happened, Sam fell back asleep again. Danny watched for a bit too long as Sam’s chest rose and fell with each even breath he took, his face held in a content smile as he dreamed away.

“Man, I haven’t seen him curled up with someone like that since we were kids,” Josh commented, taking a break from his endless scrolling to crack his neck and stretch. He had watched the whole thing, Sam’s stirring and Daniel’s flush creeping onto his face as he gazed down at the cozy bass player.

“What do you mean?” Danny had moved his own phone out of the way to properly look at Josh. The man had taken to sitting on the floor with his back against the couch that Sam and Danny were laying on.

“The last time he looked that content while sleeping was probably when he was about eight-ish; that was when he stopped taking naps with mom,” the singer explained, his eyes cast upwards as if searching the farthest reaches of his mind.

“What, are you calling me his mother?” Daniel felt his face pinch into one of disgust as he remembered what Sam had sprung on him during the ride over.

“No, what he’s saying is Sam has always liked to cuddle, but only feels comfortable doing it with certain people,” Jake clarified, not even bothering to look up from his notepad.

“Yeah, he’s never done that with us. And, now that I think about it, he’s never done that with his girlfriends, either. At least, from what I’ve seen, anyway,” Josh added, rambling just a tad at the end. He even brought his hand up to his chin as he thought, his fingers stroking the hair on it absently.

Daniel had no idea what to do with that particular bit of information, so he elected to shove it into his mental box labeled “The Sam Incident” to be ignored until further notice. It was starting to become alarmingly full.

He went back to his scrolling, his eyes beginning to burn with how long he’d been staring at the screen. He wasn’t aware that he’d taken to running his fingers through Sam’s hair and absently playing with it as he focused on finding the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Right when he was about to take a break and grab something to eat, he spotted her.

“AHA!” he exclaimed, bolting upright and rudely jolting Sam out of his peaceful slumber. The bassist even grumbled, rubbing at his eyes and shooting a grumpy look at his personal pillow for the violent awakening. Danny felt the sympathy ache in his chest for Sam, rubbing a soothing and apologetic hand over Sam’s arm. Though, with how frizzy and staticky his hair looked, Daniel had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at Sam.

“You found her?” the twins asked simultaneously, Danny feeling briefly like he was in The Shining as they both gave him the same expression as he looked between them.

Daniel nodded his head, turning his phone around to show the others. Sam took the opportunity to sleepily and unceremoniously flop himself down against the drummer’s chest face first, wrapping his arms around his waist. Danny instinctively placed his hand onto his back to steady him, rubbing it as Sam mumbled something into his chest that Danny could not understand.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Jake, ever the impatient one, urged Daniel. He pushed away from the table he was stationed at, making his way over to lean over the back of the couch to watch the drummer’s screen.

danielrwagner: Hey, so uhhh

danielrwagner: This is going to be a strange question but

danielrwagner: Are you the woman who gave me a vial at an art show a month or so back?

Daniel had set his phone down onto the couch, figuring he’d have to wait a while for a response - if he ever got one, that is. What he didn’t expect was for his phone to buzz almost immediately afterwards.

StarshineGreta: Hi Danny!

StarshineGreta: Yes, that was me

StarshineGreta: Why did someone drink it?

danielrwagner: Yeah

StarshineGreta: Who was it?

Daniel swallowed nervously, glancing down at Sammy who was still wedged into his chest and showing no signs that he was moving anytime soon.

danielrwagner: …Sam

Call from StarshineGreta

“Guys, what should I do?” Daniel panicked, his heart rate kicking up in speed inside his chest as his ringtone started to cheerfully chirp in his hand. He frantically looked back and forth between the twins, looking for their help.

“Answer it!” Josh screeched, his thunderous voice that Daniel normally heard echoing through stadium speakers just as loud and commanding in his living room.

With a nervous bite of his lip, Danny did as he was told.

“Hey, Greta. Just so you know, you're on speaker with… with the whole band,” Daniel greeted, making sure to give her the courtesy of knowing that everyone could hear her. But, it seemed that she didn’t even register what he had said. Instead, she launched right into it.

“Alright, how long ago did he drink it and what are his symptoms?” Her voice was nearly clinical if it weren’t for the clear enthusiasm dripping off her words.

“He drank it at about ten this morning-”

“And he’s acting like a lovesick puppy and won’t leave Daniel alone,” Josh interjected, leaning over so that he was closer to the phone to be heard. Though that wasn’t really necessary since the man had shouted, anyway.

“Yeah, Sam won’t stop touching and cuddling him and if he tells him to quit it he gets all mopey and sad,” Jake added, flashing Danny a grin that Daniel merely glared at. She really didn’t need to know all that.

The beat of silence that followed made Danny’s nerves spike into the stratosphere. What he didn’t know was that Greta had merely muted her own mic so that she could laugh as boisterously as she wanted to without being heard.

“Interesting. And how much did he drink?”

“Pretty much the whole thing. There’s about an eighth or so left in the bottle, I’d guess,” Daniel informed, feeling as if the vial in his pocket got heavier as he thought about it.

“Wow. Ok, wow. No wonder he’s so clingy,” Greta replied, her surprise seeping into her tone.

“I wouldn’t call him that-”

“Dan. Try standing up.”

Giving Jake a disgruntled look, Daniel tried exactly as suggested. As he did, Sam’s arms tightened around Sam and pulled him back down towards him. “Nooooooooo,” he had whined out in protest, his brow knitting together in a grumpy frown once more as he looked up at Danny through his lashes.

“No,” he said again, this time more firm and accented by Sam’s grip readjusting around Danny’s ribs to pull himself even tighter against Danny’s chest.

When Daniel looked over at the younger twin, he was met with a small yet smug smile of victory.

“Shut up,” he lamely shot back, wanting to cross his arms over his chest but being prevented by a certain bass player. Instead, he just settled his free arm back onto Sam’s back right below where his hair stopped in the middle of his spine.

“Is it a problem that he drank so much?” Josh asked, completely ignoring the exchange that happened between Jake and Daniel.

“Not really, no. The effects will just be stronger than if he had just drank the recommended amount,” Greta explained.

“Will it last longer?” Daniel quickly interjected, the horrifying thought of having to deal with Sam acting like this for a month causing panic to lance through his heart.

“I don’t think so. Maybe a few extra hours, but it should be worn off by tomorrow evening.”

“And how come your potion actually works? Like, why isn’t yours bullshit like the other ‘love potions’ out there?” Jake so delicately questioned.

“Normally, most of mine are but… well…” Daniel did not like how her tone shifted from confident to apprehensive, “I won’t sugar coat it. The potions I make are meant to amplify what emotions are already inside someone. They can’t manufacture love or hate or happiness if they don’t already exist in the person who drank it.”

After she finished her explanation, the room went silent. Daniel felt as if his mind was beginning to overheat inside his skull as he tried to process the information she had just dropped onto them.

“I don’t get it,” Daniel croaked out, feeling as if his mind was halting all function as he stared blankly down at his phone.

“Do you have that potion on you?” Greta’s voice wasn’t scheming, per say, but it was clear she had a plan.

Daniel dug into his front pocket, fishing out the aforementioned vial. He held it up into the air, looking at it and wondering how something so unassuming could flip his world on its axis.

Before the drummer could even respond to Greta, Jake had swiped it out of his hand so quickly Danny could only blink dumbly at the man.

“Josh!” he called before tossing it towards the man.

“Wait-” was all Daniel could get out before the singer had uncapped the vial and tossed it back like it was a shot.

“Ooh, bubblegum flavored,” Josh cooed after he swallowed, flipping the vial in his hand after he replaced the cap.

Daniel just sat frozen in place. Great, now he was going to have to deal with two Kiszkas attached to his hip at all times and he wasn’t going to be able to do anything-

“How ya feeling, Josh?” Jake had asked in a voice reminiscent of a gameshow host from the 70s.

“Honestly, Jake, I feel no different. Daniel, I love you, man, but not like that,” Josh answered, pointing at his little brother curled up into Danny’s chest like an overgrown cat to prove his point.

“So, that means…” Jake prompted, holding out his hand as if to cue Daniel to understand. It didn’t work.

“I still don’t get it. And now I’ll have two of you on top of me-”

“Oh my god,” Josh impatiently groaned, tossing his head back in frustration as he scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Jesus, you’re dumb, Dan,” Jake added, exasperation of his own causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head.

“I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually,” Greta optimistically offered, her voice cutting through the groaning from the twins.

“But, wait, what should I do? Is there anything I can do to help Sam? Or, like, cure him?” Danny inquired, electing to ignore the twins and their antics.

“You’re just going to have to wait it out,” Greta answered, her voice not even remotely sympathetic to Danny’s plight.

“Thanks for the insight, Greta.” Jake leaned in towards the phone again, giving it a two fingered salute.

“Yeah, and thank you for the free blackmail!” Josh was smiling as he waved at the phone, his tone chipper and not at all matching the devious words he spoke.

“Any time, boys!”

And with that, the call had ended.

“Well, we best get going,” Josh sighed as he got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head.

“Yep. Seems like you and Sam need some time to yourselves.” Jake had playfully nudged his baby brother on the shoulder with his hand, Sam only responding with a half-hearted grunt of annoyance at being jostled.

“Wait, hold on-”

“Goodbye, lovebirds!”

With a slam of the door that carried with it a sense of finality, Daniel was left alone with a love-drugged Sam. In his house. Alone.

“I thought they’d never leave,” Sam yawned, mimicking his older brother from earlier as he stretched his arms above his head, his face pinching together as he did so. Daniel pointedly did not look at the sliver of tan skin the bassist exposed above his waistband as he stretched, a playful teasing of his happy trail poking out briefly.

“Uh, what?”

“The twins! I thought they wouldn’t take the hint,” Sam playfully implied, his hands tracing up from their perch on Daniel’s stomach to his pecs. And that was when he realized that Sammy was straddling his hips and looming above him with a look in his eye and a smirk on his lips that was anything but innocent.

Danny was stuck in his position on the couch, feeling like those butterflies they displayed in glass with those pins that pierced through their wings stabbing through his own limbs. He felt frozen, caught between his own animalistic desire and his morality; the angel and devil on his shoulders waging a war.

“Are you hungry?” Daniel squeaked out, his voice breaking as he shoved Sam off of him and bolted off the couch. He felt like his face was on fire as the rest of his skin prickled with its own heat. He stood himself on the opposite side of the room, all but pressing his back to the wall. He didn’t care what that witch or the twins said; Sammy would never do that.

He’s not himself.

Once Sam recovered from Danny tossing him into the couch, Sam turned those sultry eyes back onto the drummer. “Yeah. For you.”

Daniel gulped. Sam’s voice had purred out of his lips, matching the very clear bedroom eyes he was shooting Daniel. And Danny was not liking how his body was reacting to that.

“I’ll order sushi,” Daniel quickly stated before bolting out of the room and away from Sam as fast as he could.

+++

Dinner was an ordeal. Daniel had to essentially manipulate Sammy into eating, which made him feel like garbage. But, he tried to reassure himself by saying it was for Sam’s own good. And if Danny had to use his powers of suggestion over Sam to do it, then it was just a means to an end. To be fair, it wasn’t like he was forcing Sam to do something like make out with Danny or anything like that. It was just getting him to eat his goddamn sushi.

It also didn’t help that Sam had scooched his chair right up beside Danny’s and would move closer to him each time Danny had tried to move away. And then Sam had tried to feed Danny his food. Which was… an experience.

“C’moooooooooon Danny! It’ll be cute like Lady and the Tramp!” Sam whined, waving his chopsticks in the air.

Daniel, knowing his willpower against Sam was weakening, relented. He huffed out a “fine” and half-heartedly opened his mouth. Sam squealed excitedly before gently picking up a roll with his chopsticks and placing it between Danny’s lips. Daniel figured the pain of Sam’s nagging was worth the pleasure of seeing his brilliantly excited smile as Daniel chewed his sushi.

“Ok, ok, now me!” Sam exclaimed, setting down his chopsticks before opening his mouth wide and sticking out his tongue like he was about to get his tonsils checked.

With an exasperated yet fond sigh, Daniel selected a sushi roll and brought it up to Sam, cupping a hand underneath it to catch it if it fell. As he placed the sushi on Sam’s tongue, Daniel made the mistake of looking his friend in the eyes. When he did, his breath hitched inside his throat. Daniel could feel as the air around them crackled with a charged energy that sparked to life as their gazes met. And Daniel felt himself unable to tear his eyes away from Sam as he slowly pulled his chopsticks away.

When Sam slipped the food into his mouth and began to chew, that was when Daniel was able to look away.

That was a few hours ago. The two of them were once again cuddled up on Danny’s couch, Sam trying his absolute best to get every part of his body touching every part of Daniel’s. They had thrown on a crime procedural show; Bones or Law & Order, Daniel didn’t know. He was far too distracted by how Sam kept attempting to get Danny to kiss him or let him blow him or an assortment of other things that made his face glow bright red.

He’s not in his right mind, Daniel had to keep reminding himself. And he would not break to love-drugged Sam no matter how many times he would flash Danny those puppy eyes that would normally make him fold like a house of cards under a slight breeze.

“Daaaaaaaanyyyyyyyyyy,” Sam sang, wiggling himself onto Danny’s lap in order to plant himself right in front of Daniel’s field of view. He would no longer be ignored, despite the fact that Sam had always had Danny’s full attention; he just was acting as though he hadn’t.

“Sam, I’m trying to watch this,” Daniel weakly protested. He had no idea what the plot of the episode was, much less the actual name of the show.

“Watch me instead,” Sam whined, his shoulders slouching as he theatrically threw his head back in frustration, “you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“That’s not true-”

“It’s like you don’t love me.” And that was what finally caused Daniel to break his facade. He looked Sam right in the eyes, taking in the pout of his lips and the dejected nature of his eyes. Daniel isn’t ashamed to admit that he felt his chest ache at the sight. There was genuine heartbreak in Sammy’s eyes that did nothing to quell the guilt that had been thrumming through Daniel’s veins all day.

Sam could not have been further from the truth, really. Daniel did love Sam. Like, embarrassingly so. He felt it swelling in his chest every second that he spent with Sam, even when he wasn’t with him. Actually, that was when he felt it the most, when Sam wasn’t with him. Those were the moments when he found himself wishing for the man to be near, feeling his heart long for his calming and wonderful presence.

But, he knew Sam didn’t feel that way about Daniel. Danny knew Sam the best out of everyone on earth; he’d be able to tell who Sam was in love with. It wasn’t Daniel.

“That-That’s not…” Danny didn’t know how to answer that. He really didn’t. He had no idea if Sam would remember anything from this after the potion wore off. He really did not want to risk the most precious thing in his life.

Instead, Daniel just gently lowered Sam’s head down into the crook of his neck, wrapping his arms around Sam in order to pull him as tightly against his chest as he could. If he couldn’t say it, he’d show it.

Sam calmed down after that, apparently perfectly content to just exist inside of Danny’s personal space. It wasn’t long after that Daniel felt drowsiness creep up on him. Despite not doing much moving around considering the human ball and chain known as Samuel Kiszka was attached to him all day prevented that, he was still exhausted. Emotionally, that is. Who knew having the love of your life falsely confessing his love for you would be so draining? Danny sure didn’t.

“Alright,” Danny yawned, reaching for the remote to turn off the tv, “time for bed.”

“Carry me,” Sam murmured, already half asleep against Danny.

“Sam…” Daniel protested with a sigh, knowing that he was going to anyway but hoping Sam would change his mind.

“Please, baby,” the bassist whined, moving his head so that one eye poked out from his curtain of hair to give Danny that wretched Puppy Look.

Like the whipped man that he was, Danny just sighed as his shoulders sagged in defeat. After shuffling around Sam’s limbs to better fit around Danny as he stood, Daniel walked the two of them up to his bedroom. Danny decidedly did not think about what this would look like to an outsider.

“When did you get so heavy,” Danny grunted halfway up the stairs.

“It’s not nice to comment on a lady’s weight,” Sam shot back, his face still completely nuzzled into Danny’s neck. The breath of his words made Daniel have to suppress a shiver.

“Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady.”

Sam giggled, the vibrant and gorgeous sound making Danny’s heart soar.

Jesus, he was so doomed.

+++

It had taken some master level bargaining on Daniel’s part, but he was able to convince Sam to leave him alone long enough so that they could each finish their nighttime routines. Daniel had just loaned Sam a pair of his sleep shorts and a shirt to use as pajamas; the shorts were just a bit too big on Sam and caused the waistband to sit dangerously low on his hips. Daniel found himself having to force his eyes to focus on anything other than that sliver of skin on Sam’s abdomen, which was an incredibly hard task.

Daniel was far from surprised when Sam had climbed into the bed next to him and proceeded to wrap all of his limbs around Danny. It was like the man had managed to find the exact places where he would fit perfectly against Danny like he was meant to be there. Frankly, it was driving Daniel mad.

“Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?” Sam hummed directly into the drummer’s ear, able to feel the vibrations in his best friend’s chest that was pressed into his side.

The question made Danny sigh. He knew what would happen if he said no.

“You’re going to keep going until I snap or give in, won’t you?” Daniel addressed the ceiling, unsure if he was speaking to Sam or god at this point.

“Yep,” Sam replied, popping the P in the word. Daniel could hear the mischievous smile in his words.

Now, it was just a matter of weighing Daniel’s conscience against his desire to get some goddamn rest. And, well, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to kiss Sam. But, once again, not like this. But… well, it wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before. It happened a few years ago when they were both drunk; the both of them had laughed it off afterwards, but neither of them spoke of it again. Danny was sure that if he had explained to Sam that he was only doing it to get him to relent so that he could sleep, Sam would understand. Hell, this would be far from the first time Danny had done something Sam had asked of him to get him to shut up so he could sleep.

“Fine,” Daniel had begrudgingly agreed, the word sighed out. But, before he could tell Sam that he was only going to get a quick peck and nothing else, Sam had pounced.

Danny’s cries of protest had been drowned out by the press of Sam’s unfairly soft lips, his facial hair not an unpleasant bristle against his skin. But, no matter how good it felt, Danny couldn’t allow this to continue. There was just one small problem: Sam had managed to snake his hands from where they had wrapped around Danny’s torso to his head. He felt those lithe fingers weave their way into his curls, locking him in place like a boa constrictor did with their prey. No matter how… how hot that was, Daniel was the one in his right mind. He was the one responsible for his own action, so that meant he had to… to… oh, dear lord, Sam’s tongue was soft; feeling like the finest velvet money could buy. It beckoned Daniel’s own tongue, gently pleading with it to slip inside Sam’s mouth. And, truly, who was Danny to argue? And, god forgive him, Sam’s mouth was so warm and inviting, it should be a sin.

Daniel blames his fixation on Sam’s mouth for the reason he failed to notice just how long their kiss had lasted. What finally broke him out of his trance was when Sam’s thigh slipped its way between Daniel’s own, brushing against his interested dick and pulling a surprised yelp from his lips.

Fighting against Sam’s, admittedly strong, grip on his hair, Daniel pulled away from Sam. He made sure to physically push away Sam’s thigh from its spot between Danny’s legs, knowing that should have been his first act. He was out of breath; another indicator for just how he had failed to be responsible. And looking into Sam’s confused and hurt eyes did nothing to help the guilt mushrooming within his chest.

“You’ll thank me later,” Daniel explained, even sounding out of breath as he tried to put as much distance between himself and Sam as the love-drugged man would allow. Or you’ll hate me later.

“But what about here and now?” Sam whined, closing the precious distance Danny had built up.

“You got what you wanted-” and fucking then some, “-just go to sleep.”

“Daaaaaaaan-”

“Go to sleep, Sam.” Daniel snapped, immediately regretting his tone as soon as he saw the genuine hurt in those amber eyes.

With a scowl, Sam settled down into the sheets. What hurt the most, though, was when Sam had retracted all of his limbs from where they intertwined with Daniel’s, flipping on his side to face away from his best friend. Despite having wished for it all day, Danny had no idea it would hurt so fucking much.

Even though he wanted to so fucking badly, Daniel did not reconcile the situation. It was for the best, he had to tell himself. This way, Daniel would be able to actually sleep and Sam wouldn’t be as weirded out towards Danny when he inevitably snapped out of this spell.

It was for the best.

Then why does it feel so wrong?

+++

Daniel had gotten no sleep.

Despite how much he tried, it seemed that every time he closed his eyes he was met by the image of Sammy’s disappointed face. He knew, deep down, that it was the right thing for him to do, to push Sam away like that. But that really was a thin comfort when the hurt in Sam’s eyes before he disentangled himself from Danny was still playing on loop in his head. Isn’t that what he had been trying to avoid this whole time? Hurting Sam? And, somehow, he had managed to do just that. It was frustrating and exhausting and Danny just wanted to get some fucking sleep.

Through the night, however, Sam had managed to intertwine himself once more with Danny. It felt like a hollow victory. And when he eventually, slowly, woke up, Sam had seemed to be completely over their spat from the night prior.

He had simply stretched his arms over his head, his hair a mess of tangles and static, and asked Daniel about breakfast. How Danny had wished that he could just brush off what happened the night prior.

The rest of the day had happened much like the day before; Sam refusing to let Danny stray too far from his touch. It had been inconvenient as Danny tried to go about his day with another person attached to him at the hip. However, he was able to adapt by lunch time. Sammy was still whispering things in his ear that made his blood simmer in his veins and did nothing to suppress his guilt at what images and scenarios his brain supplied him with.

Daniel had resigned himself to the fact that his day now would revolve around Sam entirely. He had wanted to go to the grocery store to restock his fridge that was becoming barren, but he knew there was the possibility that someone would recognize the two of them and their… compromising position.

So, instead of going out and being productive like he had wanted to, he sequestered the two of them to his house. They settled on a Harry Potter marathon, Daniel once again unable to focus on the screen whatsoever with Sam pawing at him continuously. Daniel had ordered food and plopped the two of them on the couch.

By the fourth movie, Sam had fallen asleep in Danny’s lap. Daniel, now with those doe eyes off of him, felt that he was finally able to end his guise of watching the screen. It had reached the late afternoon, that golden light sun streaming in through the windows of his living room and highlighting the lazy dust mites floating in the air. Most devastatingly, however, was how that sun had focused on Sammy’s profile. The man looked angelic, ethereal in a way that should not be feasible for a mortal. His hair glowed a golden hue, making it look like a halo was crowned onto his head. It made Danny’s heart ache within his chest.

Daniel had been so distracted by how gorgeous his best friend looked that he failed to really notice that Sammy was beginning to wake up.

“Daniel?” Sam’s voice was gravelly again. Danny felt his eyes focus on Sam’s, snapping him back into his own mind.

“Sam?”

“Wh… What happened?” Sam had lifted himself off of Danny’s chest, sliding a hand from where it rested on the small of Danny’s back to grab at his head. He blinked rapidly, sweeping his eyes around the room as if it was foreign to him with a grimace on his face.

“How much do you remember?”

There was a pause before Sam responded, his eyes sliding their focus in on Danny’s. “Remember? Dan, I’m not missing any time.”

And if that didn’t make Daniel’s blood run cold.

“So… So…” Danny couldn’t spit it out. No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t say that Sam knew everything. That would make it real.

“So… what happened?” Sam prompted again, seeming to be more lucid with each passing second.

Danny involuntarily gulped, feeling a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t that hard to say what happened; he already told the twins. So why the hell was it so difficult to look Sam in the eye.

“You… You remember that vial from my jacket that you drank?”

“Mhm, tasted like bubblegum.”

“...Yeah. Well, that uhh…”

Oh, for fucks sake! Just say it!

“It was a love potion,” Daniel rushed out, the words all mushing together to sound like one long word.

Another beat of silence passed between the two, Sam staring down at Daniel from his perch in his lap and Daniel looking everywhere he could that wasn’t Sam’s eyes. He really wished Sam would move, it would at least help the raging blush on his cheeks. At least slightly.

“Oh, sick!!”

Finally, Daniel looked Sam in the eye. Of all the ways he had forecasted that Sam would react to that information, enthusiasm and whimsy was not even on the list. He had expected Sam to get awkward, to politely remove himself from Danny’s touch and make an exit as quickly as possible. He had far from expected Sam to link his hands behind Danny’s neck and eagerly inquire about the potion.

“Dude, that’s so cool! You know what this means, don’t you??”

“...No?”

“Magic is real! And we just proved it!!” Sam’s smile was huge, bright enough to outshine the sun.

“Sam-”

“So, like, how does it actually work? Like, I remember that conversation we had with the witch about it only affecting those who already are in love, or whatever, but did she say the actual mechanics of how it worked? Like, is there a special ingredient that it needs to work?” Sam reminded Danny of a puppy in that moment. His eyes were bright and full of enthusiasm, his entire body buzzing with an energy that made it impossible for him to sit still.

This time, it was Daniel who failed to give a timely response. His mind was too busy reeling over what Sam had glossed over during his rambling to properly process the man’s question. Realizing that the reason Sam was looking at him so expectantly was due to him waiting on the drummer, Danny shook his head to force it to work.

“H-Hold on,” he began, taking a hand that had rested on Sam’s waist and bringing it up to his forehead, “you… you remember that conversation?? You were asleep!!”

Danny hadn’t meant for his voice to come out like a screech, however he was just so damn confused that he really couldn’t focus the brain power on proper speech etiquette.

“What?” Now it was Sam’s turn to knit his brow in confusion. “Oh, yeah! No, I was just faking it. It’s an old trick I pull out sometimes to get out of work; I started doing it so that Jake, Josh, and Ronnie were stuck doing chores instead of me.”

Daniel felt like he was losing his mind. How was Sam so goddamn chipper about this??

“Ok. Ok. Oh my god.” Daniel forced himself to take a breath. It felt as if his entire world was crumbling beneath his feet and his brain was struggling to keep up with the rapidly shifting terrain.

“So, you remember that whole conversation.” It wasn’t a question, though Danny had intended it to be.

“Yep!” Danny felt a piece of his soul die at the chipper tone Sam used. He elected to ignore it.

“And… that means you understand how it actually works…”

“Apparently better than you did, Danny Boy,” Sam snarked, a playful grin that bordered on flirtatious spreading across his lips.

Danny could only stare incredulously at Sam.

“And you’re ok with it??”

“...Yeah,” Sam answered slowly, “I already knew I was in love with you.”

And that, right there, was how Daniel Wagner died. In retrospect, he had a good go of it. He was able to follow his dreams, be a rockstar. If he had to pick one, he’d say his one regret in life was ever befriending Samuel fucking Kiszka. It would have saved his life, after all.

“Danny?”

Sammy’s voice snapped him out of his cardiac arrest, pulling him back to the present.

“Y-You… You…” Once again, Daniel felt like his brain was melting out of his head and pouring out of his ears. This can’t be real. Like, it just can’t. “You already… me??”

“Yeah…” Sammy was looking at him strangely, as if Danny were the one acting weird.

“You realize what you just told me, right??”

“I don’t understand why you’re acting so surprised. You already knew this.”

Danny tried to follow Sam’s logic in his head, he really did. He was still under the spell. He had to be. It was the only way Sam’s behavior made any sense to him.

“Sam… you were drugged, ok? I don’t know exactly how, but those… your… actions were not your own,” Danny tried to explain, careful and gentle as possible.

Then, it was as if a lightbulb went off inside Sam’s head. Daniel felt relief hit him; finally Sam got it. They could move past this and save their friendship.

“Daniel, look at me,” Sammy slid his hands from behind Daniel’s neck to rest them on the sides of his face, positioning it so that Danny had to look at him, “I am not under any spell right now. I am in my sane mind, do you get me?”

Danny opened his mouth to speak, but Sam cut him off before he had the ability to protest.

“I am so fucking in love with you. Like, so fucking in love it’s probably illegal. And that was why the potion worked. Because I am in love with you. If I wasn’t, it wouldn’t have worked at all… do you understand what I am telling you in very clear, not-able-to-be-misinterpreted words?” Sam had said every sentence slowly and with a gravity to it that left no room for debate. They were spoken as fact; as law. Just how energy cannot be created nor destroyed, Sam Kiszka was in love with Daniel Wagner.

Yet Daniel still had a hard time grasping the concept.

“But… all that… that cuddling and-and kissing and all that… you’ve never acted that way before,” Daniel reasoned, believing this to be the work of the potion and hard evidence to support that belief.

Sam just laughed, the noise warming up the ice that had frozen in Danny’s veins.

“I always wanna kiss you, Daniel. The only reason I hadn’t yet was because I didn’t think you wanted me that way. And before you try and say it was the potion forcing me, it just never occurred to me to not act upon my feelings.”

Danny was still apprehensive, unable to fully grapple with the concept that Sam wanted to kiss him at all times. But, he was beginning to see what everyone had been telling him the past 24 hours.

“...Prove it.”

With nothing but a quick “ok” spoken under his breath, Sam wasted no time launching forward and locking his lips with Danny’s. His hands slid from Danny’s cheeks to the back of his head, manipulating it so that Sam could tip it back and deepen the kiss. Once again, Danny felt dizzy. But, unlike the other kiss the two of them shared last night, this one was quick and urgent. Sam had something to prove and he was not about to let Daniel walk away from this without getting his point through Danny’s thick skull.

It was Sam who eventually pulled away, having to gasp for air.

“Holy shit,” Danny panted, his head feeling woozy as he took in the sight of his best friend looking absolutely ruined, yet giddy just from his lips.

“Yeah,” Sam breathed in response, his smile turning dopey as he laughed.

“You… You love me…”

Danny watched in real time the excitement and shock that flooded Sam’s eyes.

“Oh, thank fucking god,” Sam quickly uttered, throwing his head back, “YOU FINALLY GET IT!” Sam had taken to shaking Danny by the shoulders.

“That’s actually great news because I’m also in love with you,” Daniel admitted, a giddiness of his own flooding his veins at finally being able to say those words out loud to Sam.

“I would fucking hope so, you dense idiot.” There was no malice in Sam’s words. Quite the opposite, really. He had leaned back down onto Danny’s chest, burying his face into Danny’s neck as they embraced.

“Wait… when did you-”

“Truthfully? When we graduated.”

Daniel started to process what that meant. Since we graduated…

“YOU MEAN WE ACTUALLY COULD’VE FUCKED THIS WHOLE TIME??”

+++

Tag list: @doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @pr41sethemoon @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #daniel robert wagner #samuel francis kiszka #danny gvf #sammy gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #samuel kiszka x daniel wagner #sanny gvf #sam x danny #greta van fluff

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allieisacrybaby · 1 month

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Beach Day with Sammy🌊☀️🐚

@sacredjake @digitalcalamity @spark-my-nature @andtherestishistory13 @hearts-hunger @malany-gvf

let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!! I have not updated it in a while!!!

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sizzleporkandmmm · 5 months

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sub sam fans pspspsppsppspspss

18+ UNDER THE CUT

!!very much explicit!! contains oral sex m!receiving, light dom/sub aspects. if this is not your thing, that's fine! but i recommend not reading :)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

sammy had been a slut all night, taking a page out of his brothers book, and really going at it. he didn't hold back from the obscene faces, and arching his back, practically thrusting into his bass.

you could tell from side stage he was getting all hot and bothered, especially when he hit his bass a little too hard, voice stuttering, teetering towards a moan, as he sang his back up vocals. you could see the smirk as he eased up, he knew you were watching, knew you were getting flustered as you surveyed him.

there were plenty of punishments you had in mind, some that would really make him regret his behavior, but there was something that had been on your mind, and this was the perfect time to enact.

so when he came off stage, all sweaty and buzzing from the post show adrenaline, you promptly ignored his behavior. "hey, baby," he crooned, leaning in to plant a kiss on your lips. you met his lips in a sweet kiss, pulling away as you felt him trying to advance. "ah ah, darling," you sang, "good boys have patience." his eyes darkened, as he straightened, taking a step back.

you stood, eyes looking up to meet his. "go clean up baby," you said, patting him on the cheek, "there's something waiting for you when we get back to the room." and with that, you pushed him towards the dressing room and lockers. you smiled as he staggered towards the showers, winking as he looked back at you.

for the rest of the night, sam was positively insufferable. whimpering and whining in your ear, all the way back to the hotel. the elevator ride up was a bit awkward, what with his brothers standing there with you, trying to make small talk while sam pretended like he was perfectly fine. but he knew he was in trouble. and your stern grip on his hand proved this thought. the elevator signaled your floor, and you stepped out, dragging him with you.

"he has to play good tomorrow night! don't be too rough on him," josh teased as you pulled sam down the hallway.

you opened the door, "strip, then go sit on the bed." you directed, watching his adam's apple bob in anticipation. he followed your direction, sliding out of his sweats, "ah!" you said, before he sat, "play me a song, won't you, baby?" you purred, grabbing the bass he kept in the room, and holding it out to him.

he raised an eyebrow, "wh- i thought," he trailed, voice high and light, "oh, sweetheart. you don't have to think around me. now play." you sat in the arm chair as he began to pluck out a tune, body of the bass resting on his bare thigh. he watched you with a careful eye, not resisting humming along to the song. you stood, crossing the room slowly, stripping yourself of your tshirt, stopping in front of him, tutting as his fingers slowed. "ah ah darling, keep playing," you instructed, two fingers tapping his chin, titling his back back to meet your eyes.

"now. since you think you can be cute, act like a slut on stage, we're going to practice." your voice came out low and sultry, and you could see his confusion. "don't worry baby, it's not that hard, don't hurt your little brain by thinking too much," you teased, sinking to your knees. "scootch up love, come to the edge of the bed," you hooked your hands onto the back of knees, pulling him closer, until his cock came into view.

you giggled, "you think you're so funny, don't you sam," you said, wrapping a soft hand around him, tugging harshly as he missed a note. you smiled wickedly as he hissed through his teeth, "i'm only going to explain this once, sam. you are going to sit here, at let me do what ever i want to you. and each time you mess up, we're going to start over. do you understand? if you stop playing, you don't get to cum," you sang as you tapped his balls, cock hardening in your grasp. you watched as his breath stuttered in his chest, "words, baby. do you understand?" you asked slowly. "y-yes. i understand." he whispered, fingers slipping off the string's clumsily. "see, now if you wanna be a slut on stage, you can't mess up while you're making a mess of yourself. that's why we're practicing, because i'm so caring, isn't that right darling?" you teased. watching as he clenched his eyes shut, "yes" his breathed, "you take care of me s-so well."

"so play me a song, love. show me how well i take care of you."

he played while you made yourself at home on your knees, running your finger tips along his length, flicking the tip as he played a sour note, "focus, love," you whispered, finally tightening your grip, providing him with some relief. "fuck," he whimpered, fingers moving in muscle memory along the neck of his bass as he rocked his hips into your fist. you lowered your head so your lips rested against the tip of his cock, you blew lightly, waiting for him to mess up, lucky for him, he kept playing as smooth as can be. wrapping your lips around him, he let out a soft moan as you took him further into your mouth, tongue working to provide extra friction, humming against him as a rutted into your mouth. you pulled off, "good boy, you're playing so well for me," you hummed, "please, p-please you-" he begged. "use your words sammy." you said sternly, giving him a harsh tug, too rough to be pleasurable, smirking as he cried out, "want your mouth," he breathed.

"good boy," you replied, before wrapping your lips around his length once more, taking him to the hilt, hollowing out your cheeks as you bobbed your head up and down. his whimpers and whines got louder as you kept on, breathing through your nose so you didn't have to pull off. your lips curled into a smile as you pulled out, tongue circling the tip, "fuck baby, i'm gonna cum," he cried, hips rocking. you sucked lightly on his length, hands tracing the rest of his length, you could feel his hips stuttering as he reached his orgasm, you kept your place until you heard a sour note, the string sounding dull and distorted. you pulled off harshly, watching him buck into the air, bass forgotten about as he let out an anguished moan. "fuck, fuck. why'd- why'd you do that?" he cried, hands tightening around the neck of his bass.

"i told you, love," you explained slowly, "you mess up, we start over."

you watched as the tears of desperation formed in his eyes. "i'll be good, please, please, just let me cum." he begged. "well that's not up to me darling. you have to play with out messing up. then you get to cum."

"fuck you're so mean." he gasped, and you stood. "fine, then don't cum at all." you said simply, moving towards the bathroom. "wait, wait! i'll be good, i'm sorry, im sorry." he sobbed, on the verge of a ruined orgasm as he rutted against his bass. "be careful now, darling. your bass doesn't need a new paint job," you laughed, "now keep playing."

you took your place back in front of him as he resumed playing. "now be a good boy, and play all the notes right, and you can cum." you reminded, smirking wickedly. you could tell sam was into this, and it made you positively giddy to know he was enjoying himself. you leaned forward, pressing a kiss against the side of his cock, mouthing hotly as you moved up and down his length, before taking him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks once more. you could tell he wouldn't last too long this go around, so you decided to make it harder for him, dragging your teeth lightly down his length, bring a hand up to make up for the length that wasn't in your mouth. "shit," he panted, eyes squeezed shut, head dropped back, jaw agape. you were honestly amazed he was still managing to play. you bobbed your head swiftly, hands gripping at his thighs, taking him all the way, swallowing around him, his fingers stuttered slightly against the strings, but you excused it, you know he was going to reach his high any minute now. "shit, baby, oh god," he chanted, you looked up at him through your eyelashes, watching as his stomach tightened, eyes shut in pleasure and focus as his hands shook against the strings. with the combination of the vibrations of his bass against him, and you swallowing around his length, he finally reached his high as he plucked out a specific pattern, "shit!" he cried, cumming down your throat, bucking his hips as you hummed around him. you pulled off with a pop, watching his chest heave, and in a surprising turn of events, watching his fingers move in practiced motion across his bass, coming to a stop as he came down from his high.

"oh my god," he panted, flopping back onto the bed, you groaned as you stood, knees cracking from resting against the floor for so long, sighing as you joined him on the bed, moving his bass off of him and next to you on the bed. you rested your head on his still heaving chest, eyes tilted up to meet his gaze. you reached a hand up to brush the loose hairs from off his face, "doing okay?" you asked.

"yeah," he sighed, smiling dopely down at you, tracing a finger along your back. "was that good?" you asked, voice suddenly small. it was a new thing, you were unsure of it still. "baby. baby," he said, sitting up, "i think that was the hardest i've cum, like ever. fuck, i'm still dizzy from it. thank you," he said, smacking your lips together. "okay. okay, good." you smiled, patting his bare chest. "well, you have a show tomorrow, so let's get some sleep, hm?" you said, shifted to pull the covers over your bodies. giggling as you reach over and twist one of his nipples, laughing harder at his yelp of overstimulation, "okay, okay, i'm done. let's go to bed."

you two curled around each other, falling into a peaceful sleep, thanking your lucky stars that everyone else was on a different floor.

#greta van fleet #gvf #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka #sammy kiszka fic #samuel francis kiszka #sam kiskza #sam kiszka art #18+#gvf 18+#gvf smut #smut #sam kiszka smut #sub sam kiszka

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im-derty-dan · 25 days

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🗣️ BASS GOD'S BIRTHDAY🗣️

#i love this man!#SAMMY BOY #SAMUEL FRANCIS KISZKA #greta van fleet #gvf #sammy gvf #sam kiszka

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spark-my-nature · 1 year

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It Takes Three to Tango - DRW & SFK

Hello loves! This is gonna be a multi-part story, and I'm so excited to share this first part with you! 18+

Summary: After some revelations, you and your boyfriend Danny decide to invite Sam into the bedroom.

Chapter word count: 5.7K | Pairings: Danny x Sam x Reader (MFM threesome with slash)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, language, graphic sexual content, use of degrading terms (but its good-natured teasing, all for jokes)

Possible TW: Coming-out scene. It's very wholesome and loving but I felt I should mention it.

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"Okay, okay,” Danny giggled after swallowing, wiping the small dribble of beer that had trickled down his chin from how you held it up for him to drink, “You can’t get mad at me though.”

Taking his empty bottle and placing it on the side table to your right, you faced him fully, readjusting your seated position over his thighs. Cupping his cheek with your now free hand, you lovingly stroked the soft freckled skin with your thumb.

“Never,” you gently assured. Pressing a kiss to his beer-chilled lips through your smile, you mumbled against his mouth coyly, “S’it somebody we know?”

This discussion of ‘hallpasses’ had come up organically during a tipsy binge-rewatch of Friends. You’d offhandedly remarked (for maybe the hundredth time) how beautiful Jennifer Anniston was, and this time, Danny snorted and rolled his head to look at you, a teasing glimmer in his eye. “I’m starting to relate to Ross, babe, I think my girlfriend’s a lesbian,” to which you’d jokingly retorted that you’d go gay for her any day of the week.

And it wasn’t the first time the conversation of sexuality had rolled around between the two of you, either. Your boyfriend was the first person you’d trusted with your bisexuality, nearly a year ago now. No surprises, he was as wonderful and accepting of you as he’d ever been, talking with you and learning about this side of you that you’d shared with him.

The trust you shared with each other, and perhaps your own willingness to open up about your sexuality helped Danny feel safe with you, safe enough that he hesitated only slightly before the next words came out of his mouth.

“It’s Sam.”

Never in a hundred years would you be put off by his answer. But that didn’t mean it didn’t catch you a little off-guard, especially when you’d been operating on the assumption that your boyfriend was, for the most part at least, straight. You weren’t expecting his answer to be male, let alone his best friend.

You weren’t expecting the rush of heat and exhilaration either, as his words processed. You pulled back enough to look into the sweet, hazel eyes you loved so much, glossy from the alcohol and peering up at you, patiently waiting for you to say something.

Tucking a long curly strand of hair behind his ear, you smiled encouragingly as he leaned into your touch. “Oh, wow baby…” you softly cooed, “Really?”

He nodded, sucking his bottom lip. “Yeah, I… yeah. It’d be him.” You simply grinned wider, your heart beating quicker. His complete and utter trust in you made your chest ache with adoration alone, but add in his warm, vulnerable gaze and the rumble of his voice beneath your hand on his chest?

You leaned in, slotting your lips against his in the most loving and affirming kiss you could muster. His low hum of contentment buzzed against your lips, and you smiled wide, unable to stop it stretching across your face. “God, I love you, Danny,” you whispered.

He blinked rapidly, gaze losing focus. He inhaled slowly through his nose, sucking his lip once more. His whispered voice had an unmistakable quiver when he looked back up into your eyes. “I love you.”

You grinned, brushing your nose adoringly against his freckled cheek before kissing the corner of his mouth. You shifted your weight over his thighs, enjoying the flex of the muscle beneath his sweats. Danny’s hooded eyes lazily tracked your movements, hands settling on your ass as you ground your pelvis teasingly against his.

“Mmm…” A playful smirk teased at his lips, “Love you so much.” His flirty tone from earlier had returned, along with a noticeable stiffening beneath your center.

You looked down and giggled quietly. “Danny?” He looked up at you to continue, “Wanna know something?”

Danny’s eyebrow quirked at your shy but breathless response. “Oh, always,” he smirked.

Tucking your face down into the warm familiar cavern of your boyfriend’s neck, you parted your lips in a soft wet kiss on his skin. “I…” you swallowed, smoothing over your next words with a roll of your hips into his. “…I like the thought of you and Sam.”

Danny gasped, whether from your movements or your words was unclear, but he whispered, “Fuck… really?” His fingertips dug into your ass, guiding your hips into his again.

You whimpered quietly, nodding against his shoulder, resting your forehead against it. “S’really hot,” you confessed quietly.

You felt the rumble of a groan deep in his chest, his head tipping back against the backrest of the couch. “I… I’m glad you think so,” he breathed.

You nipped at his skin through an affirmative whine, your arms wrapping around his warm torso over the faded, soft tee.

“You… you wanna hear what I thought about sometimes?” he continued carefully, “…W-with Sam?”

You pulled back to look over his face, pressing yourself against him more firmly in your growing desperation. “Oh god yes, please,” you breathed, succumbing further to the desire clouding your mind.

His mischievous glimmer made your stomach flip. With a choked moan as your hips glided deeply over his bulged groin, he let his eyes flutter closed. “Imaged him-“ he inhaled a sharp hiss, fingers sinking into your hips, “fuck, imagined sucking his dick while he eats your pussy.”

When did it get so hot in this room? Your cheeks flushed nearly as bright as Danny’s as his confession settled in the air. Your heart thudded quickly, sinful images flashing behind your closed eyes like a pornographic slideshow.

“Oh my fucking god, Danny,” you whimpered.

His head tipped back slightly, smirking down his nose at you despite his blush. His hooded eyelids casted shadows over his already dark eyes, and he bit his lip, flicking his eyebrows up at you cockily. “Oh, honey… you do like that, huh…”

Slipping your hand between your bodies, you cupped his erection, your lips parting as his breath hitched. “More than I probably should,” you chuckled breathlessly, smirking.

He shook his head, bucking into your hand with a sharp inhale. “I love that you like it. I was kinda nervous you’d be put off.” You quickly went to reassure him, but he cut you off with a chuckle, “No no, not like that, I- I knew you’d be accepting, I didn’t mean it that way. Just… I-“ he let his head tip back with a choked moan as you squeezed him. “Fuck, I’m just happy you’re like, into this,” he smirked, his cheeks flushing.

Unable to stand the ache between your legs anymore, you lifted yourself off his lap enough to shove his sweats down to his thighs.

“Get these off-“ you groaned.

He let out an amused laugh at your desperation, lifting his hips for you, watching as you maneuvered his rock hard erection out of his boxers and wrapped your hand around him firmly. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering but keeping them trained on you.

“Danny, honey, love of my life, my gorgeous, sweet, baby boy, if I was anymore turned on, I think my brain would melt,” you deadpanned, not exaggerating in the least as you pumped his girthy cock steadily.

You leaned your face over his groin and let a string of saliva fall over his glossy head. His jaw fell open, panting now. “Oh my god,” he whined under his breath, brows furrowing.

You chewed on your bottom lip, watching his tip slipping through your fist. “You’d look so fucking hot, you know… sucking dick,” you breathed, drawing closer to brush your lips over his. He let out a soft, jerky cry, deep in his throat.

“You think so, huh?” He whispered, a lazy, dirty smirk stretching his lips.

You met his gaze, “No, I fucking know so.”

He leaned into your face, giving you a deep kiss.

Danny pulled back just enough to articulate under his breath, “Imagine, babe,” his gravelly voice raising goosebumps across your skin, “sitting on Sammy’s face, watching me take his cock in my mouth.”

“Fuck,” you whined pathetically. His cock twitched in your fist, tipping you off to the effect his own fantasies were having on him. You were right there with him, though. You yanked your damp panties to the side and shifted forward, bringing his tip through your folds.

Danny let out a shuddery sigh, his sinewy hands flexing, fingers gripping the flesh of your hips tightly as you lined him up, sheathing him slowly inside you. “Ohh, fffffffuuuuuck,” he muttered, letting his head fall forward onto your shoulder, muffling himself into your skin. “Yes, sweetheart, oh my god, yes.”

You whined, rocking forward and drawing his length along your walls, your clit grinding into his pubic bone. “You’re so hard, feels so fucking good,” you marveled through your panting breath.

Pressing your lips to his sweat-glazed temple, you purred behind his ear, “Keep talking, babe. What else did you think about?”

He groaned softly, straightening back up to drink in your fucked-out expression as he rolled up into your hips. “You’re fucking dirty, baby,” he grinned darkly, pulling you down onto his cock harder as he fucked himself into you, picking up the pace.

Shooting him a cheeky grin, you shrugged one shoulder. “I think you love it.”

He nodded, “Yeah I fuckin’ do.” He smoothed his right hand from your hip, up your front, and grabbing your breast. He squeezed it, massaging as he casually proceeded to ruin your life. “I thought about Sam’s tight little ass squeezing my cock.”

A shocked whimper burst from your lips, and Danny grunted, gently rolling your nipple between his fingers. You clenched around him as your pelvises slammed together, just to watch his eyes roll back. “Uhh, God, just like that, babe-“

Losing yourself for a moment as your pleasure built, you whimpered loudly. Your jaw hung open until Danny’s broad hand suddenly gripped your jaw. “Maybe I’d even let Sam fuck this pretty mouth while I do it,” he grit.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you imagined the weight of Sam on your tongue, moaning out at the image of Danny watching your mouth getting used by his best friend. “Don’t st- FUCK Danny, don’t stop baby,” you pleaded, riding him faster, harder, your climax building steadily.

He groaned, fucking into you desperately, chasing his own orgasm. “Or maybe I won’t… have to see how well he earns it, yeah?” Danny goaded, out of breath, his thumb finding your clit. “Your mouth is so fucking good,” he grit, “I’d make him prove he deserves to fuck it. Make him take my cock like a good boy, first.”

Your desperate moans of Danny’s name babbled out of you, incoherently strung together between swears as you came. Clenching tight around his cock, your eyes squeezed shut, seeing stars as you faintly heard Danny crying out through his own peak. Wave after wave of debilitating pleasure wracked through your body as you rode your boyfriend through it.

Slowly, you both came out of the fog, ears ringing and vision clearing. Your heaving, slick chests pressed together as you held each other tight.

“Holy… shit…” Danny panted, and you blinked at him, smiling slowly and lazily. “Holy shit,” you repeated, giggling.

He grinned, letting his eyes close as he fell back into the couch.

Following his warmth, you rested your head over his heart, listening to it slowly returning to its resting rate as your arms snaked weakly around his broad shoulders. He wrapped you in a warm hug, holding you close.

After a few minutes, you blinked your eyes open, smiling to yourself. “Baby?”

His voice tickled your ear against his chest as he rumbled out, “Yeah?”

Sighing contentedly as his hand began stroking your back, you quietly asked, “Can I ask you something?”

His abdomen tensed slightly, but he nodded, “Yeah, ‘course honey.”

“…I… If you-“ You swallowed, feeling your heart race a bit, “If you wanted to have a threesome with Sam, I’d be into that.”

His whole body tensed up at that, and you lifted your head, hurrying to back pedal. “But if you don’t, I don’t- it’s fine, I just wanted to let you know, we cou- only if you want, I-“

Danny grabbed your face, shutting you up by kissing you deeply. He smiled against your lips at your surprised coo, pulling back slowly.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he softly assured, “It’s okay, s’all good.” Nodding, you sucked on your lip, watching him shyly.

His face shifted subtly, glimmer in his eye. “Are you serious? Is that something you wanna try?”

His thumb stroked your cheek, comforting you enough to admit softly, “Yeah… you?”

He inhaled slowly, then nodded. “Yeah… I-I’d be down for that.”

You smiled softly, “Hey… I love you.” Danny brightened, smiling warmly and trailing his eyes over your face. “I love you, too.”

Grinning, you pitched forward, whispering playfully. “You gonna ask him, or me?”

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The morning after, even through the squint of your eyes due to the hangover headache, you’d rolled over to look at Danny in the soft sunlight of the dawn and felt an overwhelming surge of love wash over you. His angular features seemed softened in the muted glow filtered through the curtains, his brow scrunching as he began to wake.

“W’time s’it?” He mumbled, draping his arm over his face. As your head tilted in admiration, you brought up a hand to smooth down the centre of his chest soothingly.

“Early…” you softly replied, watching him take a deep breath and sigh, his arm lifting above his head. His muscles flexed with the movement, and finally you were graced with those mossy amber eyes as they fluttered open. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” you whispered with a smile, running your hand up his chest, through that cute, sexy dusting of hair between his pecks and up to cup his cheek. He trailed his gaze lazily across your face, a soft, almost vulnerable expression tinting his features.

“Hey…” he started, trailing off as he looked away. He licked his bottom lip, rubbing at his eye sleepily. “You… did you, uh…”

Feeling his body tensing slightly, you rubbed your thumb encouragingly over his jawline, quietly letting him gather his thoughts.

“Last night,” he began again, a little smirk playing at his lips at the memory, “I know we discussed… some things.”

A quiet giggle bubbled out of you. “Yes, love. I remember.”

He nodded once, biting back a chuckle. “Yeah… I just… we’d had a lot to drink, y’know, and… I, um…” He huffed softly, “well, I guess I’m…”

Smiling wide, you playfully tickled at his neck, giggling as he scrunched up his shoulder reflexively and laughed. “Danny, out with it.”

“Okay, okay,” he snickered, taking your hand in his, lacing his long fingers with yours, his eyes watching them tangle. “Two things, I guess. One, I wanna make sure that I didn’t… upset you, y’know with everything last night,” he put his finger up to your lips as you went to protest, “Yeah, okay, let me finish, and also… well, do you really want to try… bringing Sam into this?” He swallowed, staring at your hands as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

You nodded, cocking your head with a crooked smile. “Okay, well first of all,” you blushed, ducking your head shyly, “you sure as hell didn’t upset me.”

A callused finger tilted your chin up, and you met his eyes as a smirk spread across his handsome face. “No?” he confirmed.

Giggling bashfully, you shook your head. “I know we were tipsy, but I meant what I said, babe. The, um… the things you said…” you let your eyes trail down his chest, smirking and shaking your head slowly, “Fuck.”

Danny let out an excited breath through his nose, coyly confirming, “about… Sam?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Sam, you and him, what you thought about…” you couldn’t stop your shy giggle, “Honestly, I never considered anything like that before, it never even occurred to me. I don’t know what’s so hot about it, but… god…”

Danny’s lips parted in a shallow breath, and he stretched his free arm around your torso, rolling to his side and bringing you into his body. He hovered his lips close to your own as he whispered lowly, “You’re fucking amazing, you know.”

Tilting up your chin to try and close the distance, he teasingly leaned away. Through a barely contained pout, you answered, “How’s that?”

Dropping your hand to grab your face lovingly, he brushed his nose against yours. “I don’t know how many girlfriends are not only… you know, accepting of their boyfriends like, suddenly coming out as bisexual, but also indulge their fantasies too?” he smiled playfully, a touch of wonder in his tone.

You leaned into his gentle touch. “Baby,” you smiled wide, tenderly pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before continuing softly, “I love everything about you. Everything. The things you’ve told me, the things you haven’t, the things that you don’t even know yet. I’m so in love with you it hurts.”

Danny’s brow furrowed, nuzzling against your cheek as you spoke.

Swallowing down your rising emotions, you tenderly kissed his cheek. “I love that you’re bi, and I love that you trusted me with that part of you. I’m so proud of you, too, I-” You sucked your bottom lip under your teeth and brought your hand down to rest over his heart, feeling it beating harder at your words. “You’re my guy, Dan. I love you.”

Danny’s eyes squeezed shut, and he held his breath tight in his throat for a moment. Leaning his forehead against yours, he placed his broad, warm hand over yours, squeezing tight. He let out a slow shaky breath, nodding ever so slightly. “I love you more,” he whispered.

“Can I kiss you?” you quietly asked.

He opened his eyes, and as he grinned, a little wobbly, they crinkled at the edges endearingly. “God, yes. Please.”

Smiling wide, you eagerly met his expectant lips in a loving kiss. He hummed contentedly, his fingers curling around your hand and running it up his neck and into his curls, a not so subtle hint. Grinning into the kiss, you indulged his affinity for having his hair played with, sinking your fingers into the silky tresses appreciatively.

Danny groaned happily, pulling you on top of him playfully with a chuckle. Your bare chest pressed to his, and you deepened the kiss with a teasing slip of your tongue along his lip. His hand smoothed its way down the curve of your back, descending until his fingers gripped the plush of your ass, his enthusiastic squeeze tipping your body forward into his kiss.

Giggling against his lips, you coyly teased, “Didn’t get enough last night?”

He let his head lay back against the pillows, his heavily lidded eyes indulging in the view of your cleavage against his chest. His voice rumbled against your breasts as he replied, “Never get enough of you, you should know this by now.” Finally meeting your eyes, he winked, a devilish smirk swiftly following.

Feeling weak in the knees at his flirting, even after all the time you spent together, you bit your lip and lowered your naked lower half to his.

His brows furrowed as his lips parted, inhaling sharply at the sensation of his semi hard length blanketed by your wet folds against his stomach. “You have the gall to tease me when you’re this wet already?” He giggled breathily, lifting himself up on his elbows to watch.

Joining his laughter, you retaliated his sass by centering your knees at either side of him and sliding yourself up and down slowly. He groaned under his breath, jaw clenching. “Fuck,“ he grit. He watched his swollen pink tip peeked out rhythmically between your lips, slick wet noises mixing with Danny’s strained breathing.

You smirked, cocking your head. “Sorry, what was that?” you teased.

Eyes still trained on your hips as they stilled over him, a tiny smirk played at his lips. His tongue swiped along his top teeth, as his eyes met yours through his lashes with a devilish gleam.

In a flurry of movement, you found yourself pinned on your back, pinned between your devastatingly hot boyfriend’s arms, opening your eyes to a cocky smirk hovering over your face.

“You need me to fuck that attitude out of your smart mouth?” he goaded, playfully challenging you with a quirk of one dark brow.

Taking him up on his challenges was a specialty of yours.

“Do you need me to suck the attitude out of you, Daniel?”

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After the longest week that, frankly, anyone had experienced ever, the weekend came, and weekends went hand in hand with drinks.

And drinks went hand in hand with a certain bassist friend of yours.

You and Danny sat at either side of a buzzed, boisterous Sam Kiszka, squished into a round booth at some dive near the edge of town. It was humid, bordering on stuffy in the dark corner one of the boys had chosen. You suspected the pick was Danny’s, with the looming conversation in his foresight, he would want some semblance of privacy. You shifted in place, grimacing as your thighs peeled off the sticky vinyl.

Zoning back into the conversation, you took your eyes off the droplet of condensation that trailed down the side of Danny’s beer.

Your boyfriend was chuckling behind his fingers as Sam narrated the conversation of a nearby couple.

“Beeb-uh,” he whined through his nose, his imitation of the young blonde, “I said I wanted organic water, this has chloreeeen!”

You snorted into a giggle, playfully shoving Sam’s shoulder. He turned his face to you, sporting a proud grin from making you laugh. You bit your lip, still grinning, and let your hand rest on his bicep flirtatiously.

Danny’s eyes tracked you, moving from your face to your arm, and then finally glancing at Sam for his reaction.

Sam barely glanced to your hand, but he kept his gaze on you curiously. His smile remained, but you could see his intelligent mind working to catch up.

“You liked that, didya?” he nudged your knee with his. “People like that are hilarious to listen to. And make fun of.”

With a lingering squeeze you released him. “You’ve never dated anyone like that, though, of course,” you replied sarcastically.

Sam laughed, picking up his glass. “Shhhh, always digging up the past, you are,” he poked your nose as he took a sip.

With a giggle, you scrunched your nose, swatting him. Catching Danny’s eye across the table, he smirked over the rim of his tall glass, and you returned it with a subtle eye-gesture to Sam.

Wordlessly asking him, ‘now?’

He took a sip, nodding once subtly as he swallowed.

His hesitance was evident, even across from him. You realized that Danny had more invested in this than you, more to lose if anything went south, but having known Sam as long as you had, and having witnessed the “bromance” between the two of them (and the shameless flirting with you), you weren’t worried about Sam reacting poorly.

You figured worst case scenario, he politely declines and you all move on as if nothing happened. No harm done.

Best case scenario though? Well, you figured you’d best not get ahead of yourselves.

Danny set his glass down, keeping his eyes trained on it as he cleared his throat.

“Hey Sam, I uh… I actually wanna ask you something.”

Sam looked over at his best friend, grinning. “No, I didn’t blame Jake’s run-over bike on you in high school,” he said with faux guilt, then immediately moved as if to run away jokingly before settling back in his seat.

Danny snorted, tossing his head back as he laughed. “I fucking KNEW it, Jake kept glaring at me for a week,” he snickered, shaking his head and punching Sam’s arm, “bastard.”

Sam groaned dramatically, rubbing his arm. “If it makes you feel better, Mom got it on the door camera and told him on me.”

You giggled, leaning your chin in your hands and crossing your legs.

Danny forged on with a ironic smirk. “Listen, shut up, alright?”

Sam snickered, “Yeah, yeah, go ahead, I’m listening.” He raised his glass to his lips, and Danny leaned forward on his elbows, voice soft.

“We were both talking the other day…” Sam took a sip, nodding. “…and, we both expressed… interest, in uh…”

Danny’s face was flushed pink, and you finished for him, deciding to shoulder the weight of the question for him. “We both wanna have a threesome with you.”

Sam choked, spitting up the brown liquor into his glass and coughing profusely. Danny slapped his back, and you shrunk back, watching Sam’s face widen with shock.

He caught his breath, cleared his throat and his lips parted, but nothing came out. He open and shut his mouth a few times, growing gradually more flustered. You raised your eyebrows at him, waiting patiently, and a grin started poking at Danny’s face.

“Wow, he’s never been quiet this long before,” Danny told you with mock seriousness.

Sam shook his head, faintly smiling with a touch of bewilderement. “Uhhh… aha… I uh, I don’t- I wasn’t expecting that,” he chuckled, still staring at the table in front of him.

Nodding, you began fiddling with your hands nonchalantly. “Its totally okay, Sammy, seriously, you can say no, there’s no pressure.” Danny nodded and chimed in, “Yeah, man, if you don’t… want to, just forget we mentioned it, its fi-“

“Will you both shut up for a second?” Sam cut him off, smirking. His eyes lifted to yours first, a playful glint present through the searching look he gave you. Softly, he prompted, “For real? You’re interested in that?”

Blushing under his gaze, you nodded, smiling crookedly. Sam looked over at Danny with the same look, confirming the earlier sentiments. You watched the two men lock eyes, and you swore you saw Sam’s eyes dip to Danny’s lips for a brief moment.

Danny was flushed, but visibly relaxing by the minute as Sam reacted without discomfort. His own brown eyes trailed over Sam’s beautiful features curiously, locking on the brunette’s lips as Sam quietly asked, “you too? You want that?”

Danny nodded, smiling lightly. “I do, yeah,” he softly returned.

Sam’s smile grew, returning to you. “With me?”

You giggled, blushing and looking down. “Mhmm.”

Sam paused for a moment, looking contemplatively bemused and flattered.

“You two are sluts,” he declared, and you and Danny burst out laughing, all tension broken.

“What can I say Sammy… you’re so pretty, we just wanna take you home,” you giggled.

Sam straightened up proudly. “I am, aren’t I?” he smirked.

Danny dramatically stretched his arm around Sam’s shoulders like in the movies, leaning into him and drawling, “Me and my girlfriend saw you across the bar, and we-“

He was cut off by Sam loudly laughing, even as he leaned into Danny’s side under his arm. You watched your boys easily relaxing into each other, like the most natural thing in the world, and maybe it was. It certainly didn’t feel strange or forced, and if anything, your desire to share the pretty bassist with your boyfriend had only grown hotter in the past few minutes.

The thing about Sam, though, that you and Daniel were well aware of, is that he used humor and boisterous confidence as a sort of safety net, in situations where, in truth, he wasn’t as sure of himself as he acted. Which is why you enjoyed watching (and helping) Danny breaking through that wall of bravado brick by brick all the more.

Danny chuckled, venturing a hand up to brush his silky hair behind his ear. “You really are, you know.” You watched Sam stiffen slightly and blush at the tender gesture. “So pretty Sam,” he purred.

Sam’s breathing changed, his eyes shooting downwards at the sensation of Danny’s knee nudging at his own.

Wanting in on the flirting, you leaned closer, your bare thigh pressing against Sam’s now. The boy’s eyes darted from Danny, to your leg, to your face, and then your hand as you rested it on his arm.

You cooed near his ear quietly, “The prettiest, Sammy.” You made eye contact with Danny, steadily plastering himself to the other side of Sam’s body, exchanging an excited grin before turning your gaze back to meet Sammy’s eyes.

Once your eyes locked, you spoke before your nerves prevented the words from leaving your mouth.

“I bet you’re pretty everywhere.”

Both boys made strained, breathy noises, Sam’s face flushing wildly as Danny’s lips parted in shock. You held down a giggle at the look on your boyfriends face, intent on Sam’s reaction.

Sammy’s brows turned up in the middle slightly, biting his bottom lip.

“You wanna find out for yourself?” he breathed slowly, tentative in his words.

Danny lowered his hand, its width spanning across Sam’s thigh, beginning to smooth so slowly up his leg that even you felt antsy. “Is that a yes?” he confirmed lowly.

Sam swallowed, strands of his hair falling alongside his face as he let his head fall forward, watching Danny’s fingertips encroaching into his subtly tenting groin. “Christ… yeah,” he nodded after a moment. “That’s a fuck yes.”

You smiled wide with a pleased hum of excitement, the sound turning Sammy to face you. His cocky grin returned as he gave you a smug once-over.

“Somebody’s excited,” he teased, and you bit your lip as his own hand finally did some exploring, resting at the hem of your skirt midway up your thigh. His lightly callused fingers gripped at the flesh, the quiver in his hands nearly undetectable. He seemed to be feeling you out, testing the limits, pushing the boundaries he wasn’t sure of yet. His boldness was undeniably sexy.

You both glanced at Danny after he let out a quiet growl, deep in his throat. His eyes were zeroed into Sam’s touch on your bare thigh with a dark, hungry look. Not jealousy, quite the opposite, it seemed.

“I don’t blame her,” he rumbled near Sam’s ear, and you felt the shiver it elicited from the grip on your thigh. Then Sam let out a whimpery little gasp, squeezing you tightly all of a sudden. A glance down at his lap had you forgetting how to breath. Danny’s hand rested over the bulge in Sam’s pants. He squeezed gently, palming over him just once before pulling his hand away and straightening up.

Like somebody flipped a switch, he took a sip of his beer casually, looking between the two of you. A smirk curled his lips as he swallowed. Sam blinked at him, speechless and… needy. He let out the breath he was holding, relaxing and retracting his hand.

You grinned wildly, following suit and downing the last of your drink. Turning to Sam, you winked. “He’s a fucking tease, isn’t he?”

Sam snorted, nodding without taking his eyes off Danny. His gaze shifted into a heated, almost appraising look, as though analyzing his best friend through new eyes. “Apparently.”

Danny shrugged coyly, “I know you were distracted, Sammy, but we are in public, we gotta keep it PG.”

This earned a petulant snort from Sam, “Right, right, and uh, grabbing-“ he quickly hushed his voice, quickly checking his surroundings before continuing, “… grabbing my dick in a bar is a family friendly activity to you, Daniel?”

Danny laughed, cheeks tinting at Sam’s incessant ability to speak bluntly about anything. “You didn’t exactly stop me, Samuel,” he retorted, raising a smug eyebrow. “You couldn’t have had that much of a problem with it.”

Sam scoffed without a hint of animosity, mumbling, “Not liking it wasn’t the problem.”

Danny bit his lip, eyeing him. “Bad boy,” he flirted.

Sam did a poor job of pretending he was unaffected by Danny’s taunt. He turned back to you, hesitating for a second as he shifted his hips in place stiffly, but then pushing through and speaking his thoughts in his usual, bratty fashion. “Good thing he’s so hot, huh?”

There was that familiar rush of heat again. Nodding at Sam, you furrowed your brow with a smirk for emphasis. “So hot.” Looking over at your boyfriend, you bit your lip, shamelessly eye-fucking him for show. You led him to lean into each other conspiratorially, and you whispered, “You think he’s hot now? Wait til you see his face when he cums.”

Sam let out an affronted groan, the noise jarring in the thickness of the intimate booth. Closing his eyes, he bit his lip. “Now, why would you say that to me,” he whined with a pained smile, and Danny smiled wide, leaning forward over the table.

“What? What did you tell him?” he pried, looking between you both, left out but thoroughly enjoying the flustered state of his friend.

Inhaling Sam’s floral cologne, you raised your voice only enough to be heard from the crook of his jawline, “Don’t worry about it, nosypants.” You felt Sam smirk, and enjoying the swarming butterflies that being so close gave you, you pushed further, pressing your lips to his soft neck. Danny squinted at the two of you, and Sam bit his lip through a dazed smile, sighing through his nose as his eyelids fluttered under your attention.

You felt a pair of eyes burning into you as you nipped the soft skin between your teeth. Sam let out a tiny, surprised cry in his throat. “Oh- god,” he breathed. Taking it as your cue to pull away, you kissed over the spot and straightened out. Your cheeks felt warm, bashful in the best way as both boys eyed you hungrily.

Clearing his throat and leaning back, Danny pulled out his wallet, slipping a wad of cash onto the table.

“Shall we?”

Sam swallowed harshly, shaking his head of the trance you’d put him under. He shifted uncomfortably again, adjusting his shorts. “Uh… you’re gonna have to give me a sec.”

Chapter two

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

Join the Taglist! | Masterlist

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holdingup-fallingsky · 2 days

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SLUT🫵

#I feel like a medieval man seeing a woman’s ankles #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #samuel francis kiszka #sammy gvf

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gretavangroupie · 11 months

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VIGILANCE MASTERPOST

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Sam x Reader, Jake x OC, Sam x OC

Word Count: Far too many...600k+

Summary: She loves me, she loves me not? Maybe love really is written in the stars.

WARNINGS FOR THIS SERIES: 18+ MINORS DNI - Alcohol, Gambling, Smoking, Marijuana, Cursing, Dramatic Themes, Nightmares. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Mentions of Sub/Dom Themes, Voyeurism, Orgasm Denial, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration, Pet Names, Spanking. Angst Including: Jealousy, Possessiveness, Infidelity, Heartbreak, Toxic Themes, Arguments, Yelling, Extreme Portrayal of Sadness, Crying, Sexual Assault, Stalking, Cheating on Partner, Abandonment, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Loss, Marriage, Hospitalization, Severe Injury, Death, Poor Coping Mechanisms, Slight Alcohol Abuse, Extreme Grief, Fluff.

This story is a collaboration with my lovely pal @gretavanmoon.

Playlist for the Series: Apple Music | Spotify

Chapter List:

one | one revisited

two

three

four

five

six

seven

eight

nine

ten

eleven

twelve

thirteen

fourteen

fifteen

sixteen

seventeen

eighteen

nineteen part one | nineteen part two

twenty

twenty-one part one | twenty-one part two

twenty-two part one | twenty-two part two

twenty-three

twenty-four

twenty-five part one | twenty-five part two

twenty-six

twenty-seven part one | twenty-seven part two

twenty-eight part one | twenty-eight part two

twenty-nine

thirty

epilogue

The Outtakes:

Plan A

Coda

Rekindled

Disruption

Secret Ingredient

Sin City Revisited

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sparrowofthedawnsworld · 6 months

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Dirty little Sammy blurb, anyone?

WARNINGS: 18+, fingering (f!receiving) below the cut!!

***

I feel like Sam would be the type to just want to make you cum randomly. You could be laying in bed, a comfort movie you both have in common playing on the TV.

Suddenly, his leg is slowly hooking around your calf, pulling your leg away from your other and trapping it in place with his. You know this move too well and it makes your breath catch.

His hand comes to your belly, the back of his knuckles running gently over the skin below your bellybutton, noting the way your body gently trembles under his touch - as it does every time.

“Sammy…” you breathe, letting your free leg fall open a little more. One of your body’s many ways of welcoming him.

“Shhh…” Sam is quick to quiet you, his fingers now dancing along the hem of your shorts. He slides them beyond the hem, sucking in a breath at the absence of any underwear. “You must have known I was gonna play with your pretty cunt.”

“I mean, You… you do it a lot,” you point out. Though, he’s already well aware that he can hardly go an hour without watching your pretty face twist in pleasure.

Sam’s middle finger finally meets with your swelling clit, gently brushing over it as he continues down to your entrance to collect some of the arousal already pooling there.

“What do I do a lot? Tell me.” He wants to hear you say it.

“Y-You play with my pretty cunt a lot…” You answer him, your voice dripping with desperation already.

“And why do I do that?” Sam continues, his middle finger now swirling slowly around your throbbing clit.

“Because you like to watch me cum.” You barely get the words out through a stream of whimpers.

“Atta girl,” Sam praises, resting his cheek against your forehead. He places a quick kiss to your temple, before pulling back to watch your reactions.

Adding another finger, they dip back down to your entrance to coat themselves and return to your clit. He keeps a steady pace, but the pressure is light, only increasing it as your body gradually sinks further into the mattress.

You turn your head into Sam’s chest, muffling your moans that are growing louder and louder with each pass of his fingers.

“Feel good, baby doll?” Sam preens, a cocky smirk dancing on the corners of his mouth.

“So good, Sammy,” you whimper, barely audible. “Please…”

“Don’t rush, princess.” He reminds you. His other arm, tucked under your back, pulls you closer into him, cradling your shaking body. “You’ll get there when it’s time…” he pauses for a brief moment before slyly adding, “… Or when I let you.”

“Samuel.” It’s only a partially firm huff of his name, holding hardly any threatening weight, given the way your voice is higher and breathier.

“Relaaax.” His gravely voice drawls lowly. “Poor baby doesn’t want to be edged tonight?”

“No. No, I don’t…” You whine, squirming as a wave of sensitivity crashes over you, shoving you closer towards your high.

“Alright, okay.” Sam says with a low, breathy chuckle.

You refocus your full attention of the feeling of his calloused fingers stroking over your bundle of nervous, brushing over every spot that makes your body jolt with pleasure.

The burn in the pit of your stomach starts to intensify, a flower of bliss just waiting to bloom within you. It’s ridiculous, really, how quickly he can pull an orgasm from your body.

“See? You’re already close, aren’t you, princess?” Sam questions, his tone holding the slightest, taunting edge.

All you can muster in response is another moan, words and complete sentences have completely left you, lost beneath the pleasure that has clouded every inch of your brain.

With a few more quick passes of his fingers, you’re unraveling, squirming as much as having one leg pinned within his will allow.

“There it is.” Sam smiles down at you, priding himself with how he can make you feel so good. “Let it all go for me. I got you, baby doll.”

“Fuck, Sammy! Oh, fuck-“ You moan and writhe, riding out your high until the pleasure starts to tiptoe into that over-sensitivity.

Sam’s fingers slow to a stop, but rest on your clit in light of feeling it flutter against his fingers as your post-orgasm daze takes over.

#gvf #greta van fleet #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka #the magician ✨#sparrow’s blurbs #gvf blurb #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #sfk #samuel francis kiszka #samuel kiszka #sammy nation #sam gvf #sammy kiszka gvf #sammy kiszka #greta van fic #greta van fleet blurb

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eyelinerjake · 1 year

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Testing The Waters - Jake Kiszka One Shot

Word count: 2k+

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up pleaseeee), Dirty Talk, Light Choking, 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: You spend all day at Disneyland with Jake, seeing him enjoy himself and live out his pirate dreams. It turns you on to the point that you can’t wait and decide to act on an impulse in the hot tub.

The sun is starting to go down as you lay out on an inflatable bed in the pool of the Airbnb you are sharing with Jake’s siblings and their significant others. You were all in California for their last couple of shows on their Dreams In Gold tour. It had been a long year of traveling, and you were all in serious need of a day to have some fun.

You all had decided to spend the day at Disneyland since you were already in Anaheim. It was cheesy, but none of you had gone before and the guys had been really enthusiastic, so you were happy to tag along. All of you had too much fun going on rides, goofing off with various characters you bumped into while walking around, and wrapping the day with dinner in the Star Wars cantina.

The highlight of your day though was seeing Jake in his element. He had this carefree spirit that took over his usual more reserved demeanor in public. About halfway through the day, he decided to go all out and dawn a faded brown pirate hat that he had found in the gift shop. It was like it was made specifically for him. He had pulled out a stack of cash and bought it before you could even see him try it on.

There was something about seeing him so outgoing, seeing him smile and laugh more than he had in a while, seeing him so confident being himself and enjoying the things that he enjoys unapologetically. It made you impossibly turned on.

You had to use every ounce of strength and restraint that you had to stay in the moment the entire day, convincing yourself to not drag him to the nearest family bathroom and attack him with your mouth.

When Josh had suggested that you all head back to the rental house after dinner you were so relieved. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold back from Jake.

You weren’t so lucky though, instead of everyone retreating to their respective bedrooms to relax, somehow you all ended up around the pool. Everyone was drinking and having a good time, only adding to the knot in your stomach as you watched Jake laugh and mess around with his brothers while speaking in a ridiculous accent and wearing nothing but short swim trunks and his pirate hat. It was something about that fucking hat, it brought him confidence in the sexiest way.

Finally, Josh was the first to speak up yet again.

“Alright, I’m ready to head to bed. We have a big show tomorrow, you all should get your rest too,” he spoke sternly.

“Yeah, I’m beat. My bed is calling my name.” Sam chimed in.

You knew as soon as you joined them in the house it was game over. The walls were thin and you were all on the same floor. You needed him tonight, there was no way you were waiting.

“I think Jake and I are going to enjoy the hot tub for a couple of minutes before we head to bed. My legs hurt from walking around so much today, gotta soak the muscles for a bit,” you spoke up before Jake could make the decision to also retire for the night.

He raised his eyebrow at you but then nodded his head and turned to Josh. “Yeah, go ahead guys. We will be in soon.”

“Alright you two crazy kids, just don’t forget to lock the patio up when you’re done.” Josh warns.

The two brothers retreat back into the house through the sliding glass doors and disappear up the stairs, eventually out of sight.

Finally, you were alone. You take the opportunity to get out of the pool and saunter over to Jake, purposely not adjusting the bikini bottoms that had clung to your ass.

You grab his hand and lead him to the hot tub, walking nice and slow to give him a good look as you descend the stairs. He stood facing you, clearly enjoying what you were up to. You grab onto his shoulders and push him down to sit on the built-in bench that wrapped around the hot tub. Causing his mid-torso and below to be completely submerged in the scalding water.

“What has gotten into you?” he asks, letting out a light laugh.

You take a step so you are standing in between his open legs, wrapping your arms around his neck and lean in toward his ear.

“You have no idea how badly I have wanted you all day long. I was ready to pretend to be sick just to get you out of that damn amusement park. I had to physically stop myself from pulling you aside and getting on my hands and knees for you right there. You looked so sexy all day, and that hat… it does something to me.” you say, voice a low whisper.

He lets out a groan as you pull back to see his face. You playfully suck on his bottom lip and bite it, pulling it with your teeth as you move back. His hands move to grip your waist and pull you in closer. You decide to wrap your legs around his torso, one at a time until you are fully straddling him. His semi-hard dick sits right under your core with nothing but a layer of your thin swimsuits as a barrier.

“I’ve thought about you all day, your huge cock filling me up. Thought about you taking me and having your way with me anywhere you want. I’d do anything to feel you. I need you.” he starts to speak but you aren’t done with having the upper hand yet.

You initiate a kiss, starting slow and intimate and building into something more passionate and needy. Jake licks into your mouth, asking for entrance. Your tongues dance with each other, each movement coming together like a perfectly choreographed dance.

Desperate for some friction, you grind against him just once, triggering a whiny moan from him. You can tell he is just as frustrated as you are.

Knowing you have to be quiet with the family right inside the house, you kiss him again with an open mouth, swallowing all of his noises greedily as you drag yourself up and down his clothed erection.

“Y/N, if you keep doing that I am not going to last very long,” he warns as you continue moving against him, your mouth now licking a stripe from his throat to his jaw.

You snake your hands down his body, enjoying every delicious inch of his skin. From his chest down his stomach, finally landing on his waistband.

“That’s okay, we can make it quick. I just need you, Jake.” you look up at him under your lashes.

“Are you sure we should do this here? What if someone comes out? What if there are cameras?” he asks, voice worried but he is distracted by your hand dipping into his shorts and gripping his base, pumping up and down slowly.

“We can be discreet, I’ll just sit on your lap. No one will expect a thing, I can be a good girl for you, Jakey.” your voice is sweet, dripping like honey. He tips his head back as you quicken the pace of your hand on his dick.

That was enough for him, he was always weak when it came to your words. Immediately his grip on your hips gets even harsher. Your heartbeat quickens, ready for him to be in control.

He lifts you up, fighting against the buoyancy of the water around you. He spins you around so you’re facing away from him, but your ass is planted firmly on his crotch. He has his left arm wrapped around your front, his forearm tight against your chest, he puts his hand under your bikini top and begins to massage your breast.

He uses the pointer and middle finger of his right hand to push your bottoms to the side, dipping his fingers into you. It’s your turn to moan now, finally getting what you had been craving the entire day. Your entire lower half is tingling, overstimulated from waiting for hours to feel him where you need him the most.

“My little poor thing, you’ve been aching for my cock all day, haven’t you?” his lips brush against your ear and you feel his hot breath on your skin.

You nod vigorously, unable to see his face or anticipate his next move. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, his left hand still having a firm grip on your hip. You hook each of your feet around his calves for support as you writhe under his touch, leveraging the stability to fuck yourself against his digits.

“Fuck, baby. You really are needy tonight. Tell me what you need. Use your words, angel.” he coaxes, knowing already what you want but forcing you to verbalize it. He slows his fingers down until they are painfully slow, just edging you along for the fun of it.

“Jake, please. I need you. Inside me. Now.” you whine, not caring how pathetic you sound at the moment.

“That’s my good girl. I won’t make you wait any longer.” he removes his fingers from your center and you sigh at the loss of contact.

He pulls his shorts down just enough to be able to pull his dick out, sliding it up and down your folds. You instinctively lift yourself up, allowing him entrance. He sinks you down onto his shaft, almost painfully slow. You gasp at the feeling of him hitting you so deeply, something that happens every time the two of you had sex.

His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, tilting your head back so he has access to your neck. He sucks on the open flesh, leaving a mark without a doubt. You roll your head back even further, a pleasured sigh leaving your lips.

His other hand travels down your torso until the pad of his middle finger sits directly on your clit. You’re not sure if it’s the slight loss of air as he lightly chokes you, his dick buried inside of you, or the tight circles he’s rubbing on your bundle of nerves, but you are approaching your finish fast.

Your back is arched so you feel him even deeper, him hitting the perfect spot with each stroke. His breath starts to get erratic and you can tell that he’s close too. You squeeze around him so he knows you are right there.

“That’s it, baby. Gonna cum right on my cock? Wanna feel your tight little pussy trembling around me. Give it to me like a good girl.” his voice is rushed as his grip around your throat tightens.

That was enough to tip you over the edge, your orgasm rippling through you as you shake in his grip.

“Mmmmm, I love feeling that pretty cunt squeeze my cock. I’m there too, Y/N.” he picks up his pace, gripping your hips and slamming you down faster now. Fuuuuckkkkkkkkkkkkk” he moans into your ear as he joins you past the finish line.

You detach yourself from him and stand up. He grabs your hand and turns you around, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Was that worth that wait?” he grins at you.

“Absolutely. Now let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted.” you wink.

The two of you exit the hot tub, wrapping up in fluffy white towels and padding into the kitchen of the house.

Jake locks the door behind you and draws the blinds across the sliding glass door.

You both turn around and jump when you’re met by Josh. Standing at the sink, holding a glass of water.

“I was wondering if you two had drowned out there, it’s been a while. Glad to see you are just fine,” he says with a smirk. He dumps the remainder of the liquid in his cup into the stainless steel basin and moves past the two of you, lightly bumping his shoulder against Jake’s.

The two of you look at each other with blushed cheeks and giggle.

“Guess there’s nothing to hide now. Round 2 in the bedroom?” he quips, lifting you over his shoulder and running up the stairs.

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stardustbarbarians · 1 month

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Kneel Down Ye Sinners

A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Summary: Daniel has a bad round of golf... and Sam is bored.

Tags: spanking, oral, unprotected sex, literally just smut idk what else to say... so MDNI!

Words: 2.3 k

A/N: This has been written in my drafts for over a year and I just got around to polishing it up. Anyway, as usual, this is dedicated to @ofthecaravel because when is it not. (Also pspspspspsps @runwayblues) Title taken from Wild Side by Motley Crue (I swear I don't listen to them that much). Anyway, and as always, enjoy!!

+++

"God, that was awful!" Daniel yelled as he stormed into the house, throwing his baseball hat into the wall and kicking off his slides. They made a subdued smack as they landed onto the floor near the entrance.

"How was golf?" Sam called out for his spot in the living room, flipping through channels mindlessly. He was bored out of his skull, having already finished all the chores he wanted to do this weekend and really not all in the mood to play any of his instruments.

"I shot in the 90s! I haven't gotten a score like that since high school!!" The golfer raged, now pacing in front of the couch Sam was on. He had to admit, Daniel was hot when he was mad. He'd get this set in his jaw that defined it more and this look in his eyes that reminded Sam of all the times he was pinned underneath Daniel.

Oh, thought Sam, now there’s an idea

"Oh, baby, that's rough," Sam patronized, his voice dripping in manufactured sympathy. He threw the remote down, not needing the tv anymore. His entertainment had arrived.

Though, he felt his heart skip a beat when that rage fueled gaze was cast onto him. His skin began to prickle with goosebumps as Daniel stopped in his tracks, one of Danny's eyebrows cocking up. He felt his blood simultaneously freeze and boil beneath his skin at that look.

"You think you can do better, Samuel?" His tone was even and dangerous, a low grumble in his chest.

Sam had to suppress a shiver at the words. He was diving head-first into the deep end and he knew the risks.

"No… but you should've" Sam retorted, his bratty streak always strong. He knew he was in trouble the moment Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles very visible under the pliant fabric of his golf shirt.

"You've got quite the mouth on you. Don't you, princess?"

At the pet name, Sam visibly shivered, unable to suppress this one. That name was reserved for the moments when it was about to get nasty. And the way Daniel was glaring at Sam? It was about to get very, very nasty.

"And what about it, big loser?" The bassist really hammered the last nail in the coffin with the smirk and raised eyebrow he sent Danny’s way.

That's what finally set Daniel off.

His arms dropped to his sides, hands balling into fist. Sam watched it happen in rapt fascination, feeling just the tiniest twinge of fear in his heart. However, it was drowned out by the excitement flooding his veins at knowing just how much he had successfully riled up Daniel.

"On your knees.”

Sam was not expecting that of all things for Danny to say. He felt his eyes get big as he swallowed thickly. That fear had turned into surprise, his heart fluttering inside his ribs. He knew where this was going, however he still dumbly asked: "W-what?"

"Get on your knees. Right now, princess," Daniel growled, his teeth clenched as he spoke.

Doing as he was told, Sam slipped off the couch and stood on his knees, his eyes gazing up at Daniel. This was far from the first time Sam had viewed Daniel from this vantage point; it certainly would not be the last, either. At least, not if Sam had any say in it.

"What have I told you about that mouth of yours, princess?" Daniel approached Sam, only a few inches away from him. Danny leaned down just enough so that Sam didn’t strain his optic nerve to look at him, but Daniel still loomed above him. Sam was suddenly reminded of devotees gazing up at their gods on bended knee, feeling a sense of understanding of their blind devotion at that moment.

"That it's only useful wrapped around your cock," Samuel answered, stealing a glance down at the other man's crotch directly in front of him. He felt a rush of saliva at the mere memory of the weight of it on his tongue, having to swallow it down so that he wouldn’t drool.

Daniel hummed in approval, his hand coming to pet Sam's hair. Sam is only mildly ashamed to admit he leaned into it like a cat.

"That's right, pretty boy," Danny used his other hand to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, leaving them on and only freeing his cock, "now put it to good use."

Knowing when to obey, Sam immediately wrapped his lips around the tip of Danny's dick. The growl that slipped past the golfer's lips made Sam's own dick twitch inside his jeans, a whimper escaping his lips.

Sam wasted no time bobbing his head up and down the length of Daniel's cock, hollowing out his cheeks and laying his tongue flat. The long, drawn out moan that escaped from the back of Danny’s throat was music to Sam’s ears. When he looked up at Danny through his lashes, he’d noticed that the drummer’s head had tipped back, his eyes pinched closed as he basked in the pleasure Sam was imparting onto him.

It wasn't long before Daniel grabbed the top of Sam's hair and began setting his own pace, Sam gagging as the other man's cock hit the back of his throat particularly aggressively. But Sammy took it all in stride, only mildly disgusted when the extra spit that flooded his mouth began dripping down his chin. At least Danny would find it hot that Sam now looked all ruined.

Tears fell from his eyes right before Daniel pulled Sam off of him, a string of saliva connecting them as he looked at Daniel with the most lust filled gaze. His eyes half lidded as he panted in order to catch his breath, barely able to breathe around Danny’s girth.

"Take off your clothes, whore," Daniel commanded, his voice rough but still authoritative. He had tilted his head forward in order to look down at Sam.

"Awww, Danny boy's a wreck 'cause of little ol' me," Sam taunted, his voice even more of a mess than Danny's.

Daniel cocked his eyebrow once again, Sam's smirk growing at the reaction he was able to pull from Daniel. However, it quickly fell from his face at what the drummer stated next.

"Clothes off. Get on the coffee table. On your hands and knees.”

Sam's breath caught in this throat, finding himself obeying the commands at the deep, rumbling tone Daniel employed. Once he was stark naked, Sam climbed up onto the wooden coffee table and rested on his hands and knees just as he was told. A twinge of embarrassment made his face pink, overly aware of the heavy staring from Daniel.

"I told you to only use that pretty mouth of yours for sucking, princess. Now it's gotten you into deep trouble," Danny told Sam, his voice deep and guttural.

Sam looked over his shoulder to see Daniel sliding his belt out of his pant loops, gathering the white leather in his hand; the appendage bulging with veins underneath tanned, practiced, and calloused skin.

The bassist involuntarily whined as he put together what was about to happen. Yeah, he was in deep trouble. Like, the deepest fucking layer of trouble he could possibly be in- well… maybe not. There was one time that Sam had continued to mouth off even after this stage and… well… Sam was pretty sure they’d have to move this little shindig to their bedroom to get the rope if he pushed his luck any further.

Sam gripped the edge of the table in his hands as a sharp snap of leather came down onto his ass, a yelp leaving his throat. He didn’t hurt. Far from it, in fact. The noise was one of surprise, more than anything else.

He felt a warm, calloused hand smooth over the spot that was just struck before it remained planted on the opposite cheek. Another blow came, the sound just as loud as the belt made contact with Sam's skin. This time, however, instead of a yelp in surprise Sam let out a needy whine as the pleasure overruled the pain.

Daniel kept going, raining down blow after blow. His fingers dug into the skin of Sam's ass as his moans became needier and needier. Samuel was certain his ass was becoming bright red. But he wanted Danny to keep going, to allow the belt and his digging fingers to leave bruises that would stain the skin there for days; to serve as a reminder for who he belonged to and who belonged to him.

With another snap of the belt, Sam became a waterfall of incoherent pleas. "Oh, please, please, PLEASE, Daniel! I need more fuck- FUCK! I need more, you don't understand how much I need- oh my god please FUCK!"

A pleased hum sounded from the drummer. "Look who finally learned how to run their mouth properly.”

Without any warning, Daniel flipped Sam so his back was pressed against the coffee table. Sam's brow was knit as he pleaded up at Daniel, his lips pouting slightly.

"God, fuck! You don't know how easy you are to fucking need with a face like that!" Daniel lost his composure momentarily after gazing upon the visage of Samuel fully exposed and begging him for anything Danny was willing to give him. It was enough to break any man, even one perceived as a god.

Throwing the belt to the side with a loud clatter, Daniel pressed his lips into Sam's; sudden and aggressively. Sammy's hands immediately grabbed at Danny's shirt, trying his best to rip it off. He was eventually successful as the fabric tore underneath his hands with a clamorous noise. Daniel was surprised, to say the least; marveling at what Sam had just accomplished.

"You're gonna pay for that, princess." And just like that, Daniel was back. Though, there was no missing the awe hidden just beneath that authoritative growl.

"Hurry up and give me my punishment, Danny. I've been waiting for it this whole damn time,” Sam impatiently demanded, also falling back into his role within the blink of an eye. He wouldn't be tamed so easily. It was more fun for both of them that way.

Opening the drawer next to Sam’s head and popping open the bottle of lube with his thumb, Daniel glared down at Sam. "Watch your fucking mouth."

Before Sam could even say anything, Daniel was plunging his lube covered fingers into him. With an unfettered scream, Sam's eyes rolled into the back of his head as his back arched up off the table. Danny played Sam like a violin, using his fingers to cause Sam to make all the noises he wanted him to.

Just as quickly as they had been shoved into Sam, Daniel pulled them out much to the bassist's dissatisfaction. He made his disapproval known, huffing out loudly. "That wasn't even close to being enough."

Kicking his boxers off, Danny's hand came down hard onto the side of Sam's right thigh.

"I think your next lesson will be one of patience, princess," Daniel threatened before squirting lube onto both of his hands before tossing the bottle back into the drawer.

Using his left hand, Daniel stroked his own cock. His right hand came to wrap around Sam's aching dick, a pathetic wail ripping out of his throat at the contact. He'd never been so thankful over the fact that Daniel was ambidextrous in his entire life. Truly, he’d have to write him a card or something for him when this was all said and done.

Daniel's hand never left Sam's dick as he plunged his cock into Sam, all eight, well endowed inches into Sam. All of the other noises Sammy had made up to this point had been absolutely nothing compared to the toe-curling scream he let out as

Daniel pushed himself in. Sam's vision was beginning to white out in pure pleasure, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

His hands gripped the sides of the table for dear life as his back arched, his toes curling involuntarily as the feeling of Danny throbbing inside of him. It was driving him insane, the feeling of it being too much, yet not enough all at once.

It wasn't until Daniel started thrusting that Sam really lost control of himself. He became a mess of pleading and screaming out Daniel's name like a satanic and perverted prayer.

"Daddy please - fuck, please!!"

Sam cried out after Danny managed to nail his prostate, his vision fully whiting out.

Daniel, knowing exactly what he had just accomplished, shifted his thrusting to focus all his attention there. Samuel's brain short circuited, his mouth permanently hanging open as he remained silent, all brain function stopping.

Sam gave no warning before cum began spurting out of his cock, a final pathetic cry ripping out of him as he painted himself in white. It was a surprise to even Sam. But, hitting your g-spot over and over to the point of abusing it would surprise anyone, he guessed.

Daniel was soon to follow, pulling out and pumping his cock before he also covered Sam's chest in cum. They were both out of breath, sweat covering every inch of their skin. Danny had bent over at the waist, his arms catching his fall and planting on either side of Sam’s head. Looming above Sam once more, the bassist had never felt more comfortable in his life. He’d happily perish in this spot if it meant he got to spend his final heartbeats between Daniel’s arms.

"You should play bad rounds of golf more often," Sam finally posited, a stupid smile on his face as he gazed up at Daniel.

The drummer laughed, caught by surprise. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, princess?"

Samuel gulped at the pet name usage. However, that previous edge had vanished from his voice.

Impossibly, he felt his dick twitch at the combination of seeing Daniel covered in sweat and cum while panting heavily. And when he looked back into those hazel brown and green eyes and saw nothing but amusement, adoration, and satisfaction, Sam knew that it was, in fact, he was where he belonged.

+++

Tag List:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensGateDaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan @lightmyloverry @kenzie18 @gotavansleep @roosterbbradley @freckled-wonder @flower-power-anthem @Gabyvanfleet @Sarakay-gvf @Mamalikes-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @st4rdust-ch0rds @pr41sethemoon @fallonfatality @earthlysorrows @jessicafg03 @rossy1080 @hippievanfleet @spark-my-nature @hayley1623 @schleeble @gretavanflipflop

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #danny gvf #sammy gvf #daniel robert wagner #samuel francis kiszka #sanny gvf #smut smut smut #sam x daniel

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gardensgatekeeper · 10 months

Text

Party Favors

A/N: Hii!! This is my first post so please forgive any spelling errors, cheesy plot lines, and/or any other technical errors! My dms are open if you have any requests, ideas, or just want to say hi!

Pairing: Danny x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k+

Summary: They say drunk words are sober thoughts. At least that’s what you were telling yourself when you realized you might have feelings for one of your best friends.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Mentions of minor injury (non-graphic), drinking, language, fluff, and minor smut (wrap your willy before you get silly!). Let me know if I missed anything!

“Turn here!” You shouted at Josh over the loud music blaring through the car speakers. You were always the one with a better sense of direction, but Josh wouldn’t let you drive since you had already pregamed with a couple of shots. “It’s the last house on the-”

“Yeah, I figured it’s the one with all the cars.” He replied sarcastically, putting the car in park. “Alright kids, everyone out!” He said as the ignition quieted. Sam got out of the passenger seat before pulling his seat forward to let you, Jake, and Danny out of the cramped backseat space.

As you exited the small coupe, you accidentally hit your head on the hard metal roof, wincing from the pain. “Jesus Josh, when are you gonna get a new car? I don’t know how many more times my skull can take a beating.” You say while tending to the sore area on your head.

“Hey, don’t talk down on Elle Fernanda like that! You should be thanking her for all of the places she’s taken you.” He threw back, polishing a spot with his shirt sleeve.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way up the front lawn and entered the house that definitely exceeded the maximum occupancy. Quickly making your way to the kitchen, you found the excess of cheap alcohol bottles scattered across the island. Grabbing 5 shot glasses, you poured everyone in your group a drink and handed them out.

Jake toasts as you all down the bitter liquid courage, your face immediately scrunching in disgust as the alcohol burns your throat. Quickly, you mix together another, slightly less potent drink before leaving the guys who were already preoccupied in a conversation about sports that you weren’t interested in joining.

Making your way out of the kitchen, you immediately joined the sea of bodies moving to the beat of a familiar melody playing overhead. Sam, Josh, and Jake all made their rounds throughout the evening to dance with you before heading off to god knows where. You found yourself glancing around a couple of times wondering where Danny was, but shrugged it off and kept dancing. Though the songs and people around you constantly changed, you never lost the euphoric feeling running through your veins, not having a single care in the world. It felt so good to just let loose.

After a while, you quite literally needed to take a break and catch your breath. The excess of sweaty bodies mixed with the overconsumption of alcohol made the room feel like it was a thousand degrees. As you made your way to the kitchen for a refill, you bumped into Danny.

“Daniel! Where the hell have you been? This party is great!” You yelled before realizing the music wasn’t quite as loud in here. “Sorry.” You flush with embarrassment.

“S’okay.” He laughed before continuing “I had to convince Jake that jumping into the pool from the roof was not a good idea. It’s a miracle he’s lived this long.” He mutters. You chuckle a bit, shaking your head at the thought of having to explain that one to his parents.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself. What did you do, run laps around the house?” He asked half-jokingly while taking in your slightly sweaty appearance.

“It’s called dancing Daniel. You should try it sometime, it’s pretty fun.” You nudge him.

He paused for a moment before reaching out to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. His touch made you shudder, goosebumps covering your exposed arms.

What was that about?

Only then did you take in his appearance. A faded blue jean jacket, white t-shirt, and black skinny jeans. Though this was the usual attire for Danny, something about the way he looked tonight made your heart rate pick up just a bit.

Must be the alcohol.

“Looks like Elle Fernanda got her revenge, this is gonna be a nasty bruise.” He chuckles.

Reaching your hand up to feel the area, you wince slightly at the tenderness. The alcohol must have numbed the pain as you had already forgotten the incident from earlier.

“Damn that car. I’m surprised I don’t have a permanent dent in my head as many times as that’s happened.” You mutter.

“Let’s get you some ice. It’ll at least help the swelling.” He says, instructing you to sit on the counter beside the refrigerator. While Danny grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, your mind drifted back to how his touch felt. Sure, Danny was attractive, but he was one of your best friends. Plus, there’s no way he’d ever be interested in you like that. Why did your body react that way when he touched you?

Definitely the alcohol.

You pushed your thoughts away as he made his way back over to you with a bag of frozen peas. Seeing the puzzled look on your face, he shrugged. “It was all they had.”

The frozen vegetables met the bruised spot on your forehead, sending a quick chill of discomfort from the drastic change in temperature. “Sorry.” He sympathized, a slight frown on his face. “S’fine. Thank you, I owe you one.” You reply quickly.

“Don’t mention it. If it makes you feel any better, you look cool as hell. If I were you, I’d make up some gnarly story about how you got it.” He offers, listing off several scenarios that you know nobody would ever believe from you. He continued to ramble on while still meticulously holding the cold bag to your head. Sitting on the counter, you were about the same level so you couldn’t help but meet his eyes in front of you. You stared intensely at his brown eyes as they bore into yours. You had never noticed the beautifully unique hazel hue they were. Though it felt like hours, the silent staring between you both couldn’t have lasted longer than ten seconds.

Snap out of it, it’s just Danny!

“So, uh, you wanna head outside? I heard there’s a fire pit and a pool.” You say in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

“Let’s do it.” He agreed, tossing the frozen peas back in the freezer before subtly placing resting his hands on your hips to help you off the countertop.

He led the way outside and grabbed a couple of canned drinks from a cooler by the door. As he handed you a Black Cherry White Claw, you couldn’t help but wonder if he purposely chose your favorite flavor or if it was just pure luck.

He’s your best friend, of course he knows your favorite flavor.

You both made your way over to the pool since it wasn’t as crowded. Kicking off your shoes, you sat on the edge of the pool, letting your feet dip in the warm water. Danny opted to just sit beside you with his legs crossed. Though it was the middle of July, the air was surprisingly cool this evening. Noticing the shiver that ran through your body, Danny quickly took off his jean jacket and placed it over your shoulders. Before you could even protest, he stopped you. “It looks better on you anyway.” He said after a moment.

How fucking cliche.

Your eyes scanned his face for what had to be an obvious lie. One thing about Danny is that you could always tell when he wasn’t being truthful. It was just something you picked up on over the years. Anytime he was lying, he couldn’t hold direct eye contact to save his life. For example, last week you all were at the lake and when you asked the group who drank the last beer, Danny’s avoiding gaze gave you the answer you needed. But in this moment, he stared right back at you with a warm smile. He was telling the truth.

Another red flush covered your cheeks as you quickly turned away, taking in the rather large backyard of the random house you were at. After you were sure the color had retreated from your cheeks, you turned back towards him. He was still sitting in the same position, unmoved. His eyes quickly met yours again.

“I meant what I said. I mean you could wear a burlap sack and still look hot.” He spoke up after a moment.

“Oh my god, please.” Your hand shoves into his shoulder, trying to play it cool while your mind was racing with a million thoughts. Did he just call you hot?

He gently grabbed your hand, your full attention on him. “I’m serious Y/N. In case anyone hasn’t told you lately, you look beautiful tonight, and always. All the guys here are idiots for not seeing that.”

The alcohol in your brain answered before you could even process the words coming out of your mouth. “Yeah but I don’t want any of them. They aren’t you.” Your eyes widened a bit at the disbelief at the words you just spoke. Before you could even think, Danny gently intertwined his hand with yours. You looked down at the action before slowly looking back up to meet his longing gaze.

“You know, I’ve always had feelings for you” He admits quietly. “I guess I never said anything because I was worried about risking our friendship or making things awkward if you didn’t feel the same way.”

Your heart swelled as his confession. You won’t lie when you say you’ve fantasized about Danny here and there, but in all honesty, you just assumed he only saw you as a friend and nothing more. You felt butterflies in your stomach hearing him admit his feelings in such a vulnerable way.

You lean in ever so slightly and squeeze his hand that was still intertwined with yours, moving to place it over where your heart rested. “That’s how you make me feel, Danny.” You whisper, hoping he could feel your quickened heartbeat.

He looked back at you, his face flushed with a faint pink glow. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up at your eyes, almost like he was asking for permission like the sweet and kind soul he is. Not sure if it was the liquid courage or just pure lust, you leaned in and connected your lips to his. Just like the movies described, it felt like electricity was coursing through your veins as his lips molded perfectly with yours. In that moment, you were floating on cloud nine, never wanting it to end.

The kiss very quickly intensified into more of a steamy makeout session as the alcohol gave you a confidence boost. Your body moved into his, suddenly finding yourself straddling his lap. Your hands reach up to his dark curls, giving a slight tug to pull him even closer to you. A faint whimper left his mouth from the action, consuming your body with desire. You began to slowly rock into him in a feeble attempt to satisfy the ache in your core, swearing you could feel him harden under you.

Danny quickly grabbed your hips and pulled away a bit.

“Wait, wait.” He began, seeing the confusion and panic etched on your face. “Shit, wait no. I want to keep going, trust me, but uh-fuck. How do I- You’ve been drinking and I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“Oh.” Was all you could get out. You moved off his lap and sat back on the ground, pulling your knees up to your chest as you looked anywhere but at him. Even though you were fully clothed, you suddenly felt exposed, partially ashamed that Danny didn’t want you in that way.

He quickly grabbed your hands. “Listen, I want to. I really want to. Hell, I’ve dreamed about this moment for years, but I care about you too much. I don’t want you to think that’s all I want or care about.”

He must have been able to sense that you were still slightly embarrassed, so he brought your hand up and peppered soft kisses all over your hand. Giggling from how they tickled your skin, you looked back at him and smiled. You didn’t deserve someone as sweet and thoughtful as him.

“I really like you Y/N but I wanna do this right. You know I’m a bit old fashioned in that way.” He nudged, making you smile even harder.

“I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all.” You say. He flashes you a classy Danny Wagner grin and wraps his arm around your shoulder. Using his other free hand, he grabs his drink on the ground and holds it up.

“Here’s to chivalry.”

You copy his actions and tap your can against his. “Cheers, Danny.”

“Now, what was this about a dance lesson? I do believe you owe me a favor.” He winked, standing to his feet while offering a hand to help you up.

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seenoversundown · 2 months

Text

Sparrow Of The Dawn : Chapter Seven

Sam x Willa (Fem OC)

Warnings: Anxiety (Normal and Flying related) Mentions of Plane Crashes (all in panicked thoughts) Lost Luggage (it can be a rough time for some people) Angry Sam (if you squint) , and Fluff (but like..if you get Sam Feels, you chose this)

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

Author's Note: I hope you're ready 🤭

Stuck In the Middle With You - Stealers Wheel "Well, I don't know why I came here tonight, I got the feeling that something aint right, I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair, And I'm wondering how I'll get down the stairs."

“Alright, repeat after me.” Quinn says after placing their car in park. They turn to me, hands extended as they explain. “No annoying man is worth your shot at this job.”

“No annoying man is worth my shot at this job.” I repeat, also turning to face them for the pep talk they're giving me.

“Good. Just.. don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do out of state. Most things I wouldn't do out of state are felonies, there’s a lot of red tape with crossing state lines.. so, assault is off the table.” Their nonchalant attitude about committing crimes will always make me laugh. The thing is, Quinn doesn’t look like the type of person who would commit a crime, but also definitely looks like the type of person who would commit a crime. I don’t put anything past them because I’m sure whatever they’ve done if they’ve done it, they’ve one hundred percent gotten away with it.

“Assault is off the table.”

“Right. My knitting needles are still available if they’re needed when you’re HOME.” a definite emphasis on home.

I take a deep breath, centering myself for the morning, trip, and week ahead. Oh, it’s going to be a long one.

“You got this, don’t you stress that pretty little head. Just text me if you’re feeling particularly violent.”

“Okay, okay. You’re right.” I pull them in for a hug. “I got this.” Once again repeating their words back to myself.

I hop out of their car and tug my definitely overpacked luggage from the back seat.

“I’ll text you when I land, okay?” I call back to them and shut the door, and turn toward the entrance to the airport.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After I checked my luggage, I went searching for the gate. I find a seat, sit down, and wait. Albeit very early, but you can never be too sure with flights. It could be busy, or they could have changed the gate; there are too many variables to things going wrong. I decided to send Sam a text to gauge when to expect him while I sit here.

Willa: What’s your ETA?

I try to keep it simple enough, but as the minutes tick by I start to get more anxious. Why are men so terrible at texting? I wait another few minutes and text him again.

Willa: Are you on your way?

Could I be any more like an annoying girlfriend? God. Ew, don’t think about Sam and Girlfriend in the same sentence.

I check my phone for what feels like the millionth time this morning. Where the hell is he? Scrolling through my apps trying to distract myself to no avail. I close out and open my text thread with Sam, which only consists of me texting him. He still hasn’t answered my last one, and his read receipts aren’t on so I don’t know if he’s ignoring me or just hasn’t bothered to look at his phone. Which, why would he not check his phone? We’re seated together, we’re flying together; why would he not bother to communicate with me? Unless..

No.

No way?

He wouldn’t bail, would he?

I mean, I don’t exactly know him super well but.. He wouldn’t.

Right?

My heart starts to race in my chest as I begin to panic. I stand up and look around, trying to see if I can spot him through the crowd of people walking down the hallway. I stand on my tiptoes, trying to gain the tiniest bit more field of view when I see him. Casually walking down the aisle, breakfast sandwich in hand, headphones on, paying nobody any mind.

I seethe.

He smiles at me when he catches my eye. I swear it takes an age for him to finally meet me with how slow he’s walking. Like he has all the time in the world.

“Morning, Birdie.” He says cheerfully, taking another bite of his sandwich. It astounds me how little regard he has for other people. Just living life flying by the seat of his pants, not worrying about the time or anyone else involved. Especially not if that anyone is me.

“Where the hell have you been, Sam? We board in–” I double-check the time. “Ten minutes!” I say exasperatedly.

“I know.” He looks confused. How could he be confused about this? The email stated explicitly boarding begins at 5:50am. Oh, it's too early in the morning for me to be dealing with this. “That’s why I’m here? Why on earth are you irritated before 6 in the morning?”

“Why do you always show up at the last minute?” I snap back.

“I’m still early, they haven’t started boarding yet. Jesus, calm down, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He takes the last bite of his sandwich and throws the wrapper in the nearby trash, wiping his hands on the front of his gray sweatpants. God, his gray sweatpants. I shake my head of the thought, remembering I’m angry at him and refusing to let the thought of his ass in tight tapered gray sweatpants distract me.

Oh, I could hit him, I am that mad. Get it together. You will not let this man ruin this experience for you just because he wants to be a bonehead first thing in the morning. What was it that Quinn said again?

I take a long breath in, hold it–

“He’s not worth my job. No across-state line crimes. Assault is off the table. Knitting needles in case of emergency.”

– and release.

I choose silence instead of violence.

The attendant comes over the speaker and starts announcing boarding schedules. We have pre-selected seats and are, thankfully, sitting on the side with only two. We at least won’t have to deal with any strangers for this leg; PMW is a small airport, so of course, we have a layover to get to the West Coast. I hope I can convince Sam to let me have the window seat. Naturally, we’re one of the last groups to board. I’m just happy I checked my suitcase and just brought my backpack for the flights so I don’t have to worry about the overhead bins. Can’t say the same for Sam though, as he stands next to me with his backpack on and duffle bag gripped in his hand.

When our group gets called, Sam heads over first; I sort of just cower behind him like a small child. Annoyingly latching onto the back of his cream-colored henley. We take awkward baby steps through the aisle as people file into their seats. I give Sam a gentle reminder of our seat numbers, 11A, and B, in front of the wings where it's quieter but not the emergency exit.

He pops the overhead compartment open and shoves his duffle bag inside then he slides in, right to the window seat.

“Uhm. Can I..” I start nervously. “Can I actually take the window seat?”

He stares up at me. His mouth hung open, clearly confused. “Why?” he asks.

I roll my eyes, irritated that we’re holding up the line to some degree, as people mumble and push past me. “Seeing out the window.. Helps.” trying my best to tiptoe around the elephant in the room.

“Helps?” He parrots me.

“I hate flying, Sam. Okay? Can I please just sit in the window?” I rush out under my breath, finally spilling the beans. If he had just an ounce of intuition about him. Nevermind.

“Ohhhhh.” He says, standing up, well, standing as best he can under the overhead bin. “That’s why you were being so psychotic this morning.”

He stands up straight in front of me in the middle of the aisle, waving me in with his hand.

“It’s not psychotic to want someone to show up on time.” I slip past him and slide into the window seat. Shoving my bag under the seat in front of me. He follows, plopping down next to me and doing the same with his bag.

“I was on time, just not early. I’m actually always on time, you’ll find.” He leans an arm against the armrest between us, placing an inquisitive finger to his chin. “I’ve not once been late since you’ve known me, have I?”

I decline to answer, and instead raise the shade on the window and pull out my headphones, ready to drown him out once the flight attendants are finished with their instructions. Because, yes I do pay attention to those. You can never be too careful.

The plane starts to move, and instantly my heart is beating like a drum in my throat. I wring my fingers together, focusing on the friction of my hands. The heat of my palms only soothes me so much.

Sam leans over the armrest again and whispers, “You can hold my hand if you’re scared, it’s okay.” I look down to see his palm staring right back at me. I glance up to his face trying to determine if the smile he wears is genuine or if he’s being a dick.

My pride won’t allow me to accept the former, so I reply, “I’d rather eat dirt, actually. Thanks for making fun of me.” Then I cross my arms and stare out the window.

“I wasn’t – Nevermind.” He adjusts in his seat and puts his own headphones back on his ears.

The relief I feel knowing this first flight is a short one is minimal at best. Just when I get used to being in the air, we’ll have to touch back down and then I’m waiting in the airport to do it all over again.

I pull my headphones over my ears and choose a playlist I specifically curated to be relaxing for the flight. I tilt my head back and focus on anything but the low hum of the engine. Just as I start to forget, I’m thousands of feet in the air..

Turbulence. Fuck.

I jolt upright and clasp my hands together, squeezing them together so tightly I’m on the verge of breaking a finger. I feel a hand touch my forearm. I peek open one eye, despite knowing that the only person that could be touching me right now is Sam. I look up at him, and he gestures for me to remove my headphones.

“It’s a short flight, so they won’t go up as high. Meaning there will be more turbulence than normal as we fly through the clouds.”

Great.

Wonderful.

Amazing.

That makes me soooooo happy, actually. My breathing picks up, and I trying to calm my nerves and focus on my breathing. In through my nose, and out through my mouth. Sam sneaks into my line of sight again.

“Hey.” He gives me a gentle smile and I might find it sweet if I wasn’t losing my mind at the moment. “We’ll only be up here for ten minutes tops, then we descend. You have nothing to worry about.”

Easy for you to say. I resist the urge to snap at him and go back to my breathing techniques.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I have never in my life been more thrilled to touch solid ground. Every time the plane shook, I squeezed my eyes and hands tighter. I’m surprised I made it out unscathed. Well, relatively unscathed. The skin around my thumbs bore the brunt of my anxiety when I wasn’t trying to be as still as possible. Somehow, my logic was if I can stay still, we won’t plummet to the ground to our untimely deaths. At one point, we dipped what I’m sure was a normal amount, and I swore that was the end of me.

“I’m hungry.” Sam says to me as we walk through the tunnel to the airport. “Think I’m gonna roam around to find some.”

I stop midstep. “No. I don’t trust you. We’re going to find the gate.” I say.

A statement, not a question.

“But Birdie, I’m hungry.” He complains, like a five-year-old. Jesus, if I wanted to tote around an annoying child, I would have had one by now.

“We’re going to go and find the gate, Sam.” I don’t let him argue with me. “Please, don’t do this to me. I’m already stressed, and I don’t trust you not to make it worse by showing up at the last minute again.” We finally step into the gate. Airports always smell so bad, and the Newark airport is no different. No matter what time of year, they always smell like sweaty socks. Gross.

“How about this,” he counters, and I wait for his terrible idea. “We go find the gate–”

“Yes! Thank you!” I exclaim triumphantly. I honestly thought I’d have to fight him harder on that. He throws me a pointed look as we walk side by side.

“How about we go find the gate, we see it exists, and then we go get food. Together.”

I contemplate his words, mulling them over in my head. I’m not usually one to eat while flying. Due to all the nerves and stress that I’ll miss a flight or get lost. I don’t fly much for this reason.

“Come on, Bird. We have a two-hour layover, and if I don’t eat, I’ll be cranky, and there’s no vacancy in the cranky department because we both know that spot is taken by you.”

“Hey!” I protest. He’s.. not exactly wrong, though. Am I cranky? Yes. Do I have a reason to be cranky? Yes. Come to think of it.. I don’t think I’ve actually seen Sam cranky. I’ve seen him surprised, like when I yelled at him at the farmers market. I’ve seen him happy, like when we won the contest. I’ve seen him sassy, because yes sassy is the word I’d use to describe when he bickers with me. But I’ve never seen him cranky or mad even. He always matches my snarkiness tit for tat, but he never seems irritated by it. It’s one of the reasons I don’t fully mind having to do this project with him. He’s talented, which makes the work part easier. And he’s a total pain in my ass. Mostly because I just.. Don’t understand him.

“So…” He waits with anticipation.

“Okay.” I give in; I feel like I’m always giving in to him. “We’ll see where the gate is, and then we’ll go get food.”

We make our way through the crowd. Luckily, the gate we have to be at is just at the next terminal over, so we don’t have to walk very far. Sam, however, is a very tall man, and I find myself struggling to match his stride, even at a casual walking speed. Or what I’m sure is casual for him. I wrap my hand around his elbow and give him a gentle squeeze as if to remind him of my presence. Just another example of Sam acting like he’s the center of the universe. He does, at the very least, slow down a little after that, but I don’t let go of his arm. Just in case.

“There’s our gate, Birdie.” He looks at it lovingly and slips his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Isn’t she pretty?” he lets out a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, okay. I get it. Let's get you some food before you wither away and die.”

Choosing a place to eat goes swimmingly when I point out somewhere, and he turns it down. Stupid vegetarian. Finally, we end up at one of those marketplaces that’s more like a rest stop than an actual place to eat.

Sam buys half the store worth of snacks, and I stick to just a bag of goldfish and a coke until he yells over to me. “Hey, can you grab me sushi if there’s some over there?” He points to the cooler.

Does he really think he’s going to find sushi here? In the airport? I look anyway just to appease him, and when I find none, I check out. I grab my two items and meet him in the hallway, and we head back to the gate to sit until we board. Thankfully.

We find a couple seats next to an outlet and put all our belongings on the seat between us.

“There was no sushi?” He looks over at me with the biggest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen. Jesus. Have his eyes always been that pretty?

“No, Sam. There was no sushi.” I say, hardly wanting to disappoint him.

“Damn.” he mutters, shoving a couple chips into his mouth.

“This is Newark. Did you honestly expect there would be sushi?” I ask, opening my bag of goldfish.

He shrugs, “I dunno. Ya never know.”

“I thought you couldn’t eat sushi, being a vegetarian and all.” I question skeptically, popping a few crackers into my mouth and opening my bottle of coke.

“Sushi is my one exception.” He whispers to me like it’s a dirty secret. “Don’t tell Daniel.” He says as if Daniel and I are in cahoots with each other to conspire against him. I’ve never even met the man. Not officially, anyway. I’ve seen him at the bar a few times, but we've only exchanged a handful of words as he’s checked my ID a time or two.

“My lips are sealed.” I pretend to lock my mouth and throw away the key. He smiles at me, and it reaches his eyes. Bright and happy. How he manages to be in such good spirits traveling is beyond me.

I reach between us, setting aside my goldfish, and dig through my bag for a charger. I spent so long checking my phone and staring at my empty texts from him that the battery is getting low, and the next flight is the longer one. I feel through every corner of my bag; I swore I packed it in and I don’t feel it. I open another compartment and feel around there, nothing. Another, and nothing. God damnit.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks, setting his food down next to him.

“Can you just–” I start pulling out items from my bag and setting them in his hands. His eyes are wide with confusion, but I don’t care. I need to find my charger.

In what feels like Aggie Cromwell’s endless purse of goodies, I stare down at my now empty camera bag. All the contents strewn between mine and Sam’s laps, his arms overflowing.

“Uh.. Bird?”

“Ugh! I can’t find my charger.” I lean back in my chair, annoyed, and he laughs. He LAUGHS. The nerve of him.

“I have an extra.” he attempts to hand me some of my things back. I stare at him slack jawed. Okay?

“Well good for you!” I snap back. Mr. Overprepared Kiszka has an extra charger while I’m going to have to buy a new one. He laughs again, his eyes squinting as he does.

“I mean I have an extra you can borrow. Hold on.” He starts to successfully hand me back my things and I crowd them around my lap.

“Here you go.” He gives me a small smile, and I grab the charger from him.

“Uhh, thanks.” I unravel the cord from where it's tucked around itself and plug it into the wall socket next to me. I pause just before I stick the cord into the lightning port on my phone. Why does he have an extra?

“Sam.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading.

“Why do you have an extra charger?”

“Just in case.” He shrugs, still not making eye contact with me. I have a feeling of what he’s going to say if I press the issue, and I better be wrong.

“Why?” I push his book out of his view. And he sighs. Oh here it comes.

“Because Birdie.” He adjusts in his seat, putting his bookmark in between the pages and looking me directly in the eye. “Clumsy and forgetful usually go together, and you’re definitely clumsy. Is that what you wanted me to say?”

I’m not forgetful. I’m prepared–I’m overprepared, really. I overpack. I plan, and I plan, and I plan. I am not forgetful. Sufficiently annoyed and again choosing not to argue with him, I start to place my things one by one back in the pockets of my bag.

With his eyes still watching me, he says, “So.. Do you like the camera bag?” a wide smile spreads across his lips. God damnit. I knew he was going to be like this and still bought one anyway. But to be fair, it was the first bag that popped up in my Google search for ‘camera bags’. He totes his around everywhere he goes, so clearly he thinks it's a good choice.

“I do. It has lots of pockets for all of my things.” I say.

“Like your rocks.” He holds up a black tourmaline raw chunk, and I pluck it from his fingers and tuck it securely in one of the pockets.

“Yes, like my rocks. That one is good for travel.” I say matter of factly. My phone buzzes against my leg, drawing my attention away from him.

Quinn: Birdieeeeee, you got some splanin to dooooo

Willa: Not you too 🤦🏻‍♀️

Quinn: Hey! You’re not allowed to protest when I was just trying to be a good, dutiful, stay at home roommate and do your laundry while you’re away. HOWEVER I found these in your hamper

Quinn: [ picture ]

Quinn: I was just wondering, if your ratty old sweatpants are here.. What you’re planning on wearing there?

I groan at their text, earning a curious side-eye from Sam. When we won the competition, an email was sent out informing us that we would be sharing a double room. Despite knowing we’d be in two separate beds I still wanted to seem like I have my shit together. Ratty sweatpants do not say ‘I have my life together.’ They say I’ve worn these through every breakup I’ve ever had and are stained with no less than four different kinds of comfort meals and chocolate syrup from the ice cream I've consumed in them, too. Resulting in the conclusion that my life IS, in fact, a mess. Sue me for cryin’ out loud. My phone buzzes again.

Quinn: Are you wearing your sexy pjs?

Quinn: for HIM?

Quinn: A MAN?!

Quinn: You only wear them for me? ☹️

That causes me to laugh, out loud.

“Everything okay?” Sam asks, concern written on his features.

“Oh, HA, yeah. Everything is fine. Just roommate stuff.” I explain awkwardly.

Willa: They are not sexy pjs just because they match. I was trying to seem like I have my life together okay. People with matching pjs have their lives together.

Quinn: [ picture ]

Quinn: That’s cold, Wallaby.

Jesus Christ. I stare at a photo of Quinn’s pouting face and promptly redirect my attention to Sam. He’s just been in his henley this whole time. No jacket, no coat, no scarf, and he usually always wears a scarf.

“Are you not cold?” I let my impulsive thought escape my lips.

“No.” He says plainly, turning the page to his book.

“Did you even bring a jacket?” I can’t help myself but ask.

“I packed a jacket, yeah.” He pats his own camera bag.

“Oh.” Well damn. How am I supposed to respond to that? He shuts his book with his finger still keeping his place.

“Are you cold?” He asks.

“I’m always cold, remember?” I say absentmindedly.

I always come prepared for traveling because airports are cold, planes are cold, and, in my unfortunate turn of luck, it's cold where we’re going. I get a free vacation to an equally cold place. Not how I pictured California. I wore a black long-sleeve under my cream-colored Patagonia pullover to keep warm. I figured a small coat would be enough, with the beginning of April around the corner.

“Did you want to borrow it?” He interrupts my thoughts.

“What?”

“My jacket. You said you’re cold. Did you want to borrow it?”

My eyes go wide at his suggestion, and I can’t seem to make my mouth move in protest. I just sit there with my mouth hanging open like a weirdo, and because I’ve taken too long to answer, he already starts to pull his jacket out of his bag. Oh god.

“Here.” He says, giving me a small smile. I take the jacket from him and straighten it out. Oh. It's the rust-colored jacket he was wearing the first day I saw him at the Farmer’s Market. I slide it around my shoulders and slip my arms through each sleeve, staring down at the ties in lieu of buttons. Sam laughs as I stand there.

“It just ties, Birdie. Here,” His hands, oh god, his hands, work the delicate strings at the front. Tying them in tiny little bows. I’m exactly the same height as him as he stays seated in front of me. When he’s finished, he’s still smiling. “There you go. Perfect.” And I really look at him for what seems like the first time. Oh, this is going to be bad.

“Now Boarding Flight 2637 to San Francisco.” They announce over the intercom. Thank god.

We’re not the last boarding group this go around so it should go a little easier. We stand slightly out of the way until it's our turn to go; this time, Sam lets me lead. Similar to the last flight, we’re in front of the wings, and he allows me the window seat. It works out better that way because he spent so long trying to fidget with the overhead compartment before sitting down next to me.

Much like the previous flight, I fight with my nerves. I’m just hoping there isn’t turbulence. We’re in the air for almost seven hours; I don’t think I could handle turbulence for that long. I run through my routine. Taking my headphones out and wrapping them around my neck, double-checking my playlist, slipping my Kindle into an easy-to-grab area just in case I am calm enough to read. Doubtful, but we can hope.

I clasp my hands together and wait as the plane navigates the runway. The flight attendants start their safety presentation and as always, I pay attention. I think I catch a slight giggle from Sam as I crane my neck to be able to see over the seat in front of me. Then we take off.

I stare out the window as the ground shrinks beneath us, the wheels folding up under the aircraft. I make myself small and still, paying attention to my breathing and the speedy thrum of my heart in my chest. In through my nose, pausing, and breathing out through my mouth. My head starts to get fuzzy as I take in the smell of Sam’s cologne still lingering on his jacket. The woody notes of cedarwood, balsam, and amber calm me down a little. Has he always smelled this good? Why have I never noticed that before?

My eyes wander to Sam, curious to see how a normal person handles a flight. Secretly stealing a glance at him, I take in the profile of his face backlit by the sun from the opposite window. He really does have good genes; all of them do. It’s kind of rude, actually. His hair waves slightly, resting against his shoulders. He runs a hand through it as he casually scrolls through his phone. I lean my head against the back of my seat, feeling myself start to relax a little with each deep breath I take.

He meets my gaze and holds his hand out to me, offering me the same comfort I previously denied him on the last flight. Again, I decline with a small wave of my own hand. I should be okay, I think to myself.

After a bit, I’m jolted from my calm demeanor when more turbulence hits. I sit up straight and resume my position of small and still, nervously wringing my hands together.

Sam grabs my hands with both of his and squeezes gently. I look over at him and he looks so worried about me. Why does he look so worried?

“Come here,” I think is what his mouth says to me. I can’t hear anything over the rapid beating of my heart in my ears. Everything else is muffled.

He breaks apart my hands and laces his fingers with my right one, my left one having no choice but to wrap around the back of his. He tugs me a little, pulling me closer to him and I lean my head against his arm. I inhale deeply, searching for the scent that calmed me earlier. In through my nose, pause, out through my mouth.

Again and again, until I feel my heart slow, even if just by a small amount. His thumb gently rubs against the back of my hand.

“Hey, look at me.” He says softly, as my ears start to clear up. I tilt my head up, never leaving his arm, and stare directly into his warm brown eyes. “You ever heard of the jello theory?” I shake my head no.

“The theory is that when a plane experiences turbulence, it's kinda like a stapler trapped in jello. The stapler wiggles around but doesn’t suddenly land on the floor. So the plane isn’t going to tumble out of the sky because of a little turbulence; it’s just gonna wiggle around a bit.”

Huh, I never knew that. I can feel my muscles start to loosen where they’re half wrapped around him.

“Better?” He asks.

“Better.” I say. Which is the truth. I do feel better after hearing that.

“Want to watch a movie? Help distract you a little more?” He bends down slightly, unzipping his bag and pulling out his laptop, all one-handed, as he never lets go of mine.

“How?” Obviously confused by the mechanics, we both have over-the-ear headphones, which puts sharing out the question. And Sam doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to listen to a movie with the sound on blast in public.

“I have one of those splitter things. Borrowed it from my brother, actually. Ya know.. Just in case.” He says, and the smallest tint of pink washes over his cheeks. He pulls down the tray and sets his laptop on top of it, again reaching into a pocket and pulling out the splitter, and clicking it into place. He wiggles his fingers at me to give him my headphone jack, and then he plugs that into place right next to his.

“I have Zootopia, The Godfather, and uhh,” he pauses looking down at me. “Twilight.” he mumbles.

“I thought you said you’ve never seen Twilight?” I question skeptically.

“I haven’t.” and I’m almost positive he’s lying. “I uploaded it ya know.. Just in case.” he repeats for the third time today. Samuel ‘just in case’ Kiszka.

“Twilight it is.. Everyone should see it at least once.” I give him a bit of a side-eye. My belly does a flip, and I squeeze his hand tighter when another jolt of turbulence hits. He squeezes my hand back, letting me know its going to be okay.

“Twilight it is then.” and he clicks play on the movie.

My eyes start to flutter close sometime around ‘Hold on tight spider monkey’, but before I fall asleep, I could swear I see Sam quoting the movie under his breath. I tuck that nugget away for another time.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

When I wake up, I’m still curled up to his arm, our fingers still clasped together, his head gently resting against mine. I raise my head a little, careful not to disturb him, and notice the spot of drool I’ve left there. Oh god. I sit up straight, scaring him in the process, and begin furiously wiping at my mouth. He looks at me wide-eyed, then down at his arm, back up to me, and turns back to his movie. He doesn’t say anything nor does he look upset. My face heats with embarrassment, and I scoot as far away from him as I possibly can.

He disconnects our headphones and starts to pack up his laptop when the pilot informs us of our descent. I feel like I’ve been on a plane for ages today. Somehow, despite my nap, I still feel unrested. Must be all the anxiety.

When the plane finally touches down, Sam is quick to get up and stretch. I can’t blame him; he’s nearly six feet tall. I can't imagine that’s comfortable. Especially with my clinging to him like a koala the whole flight. I stand as tall as I can in the cramped space and set my bag on his seat waiting to exit. I feel around my pockets, double-checking that I have everything. Where is my phone? I bend down to feel around the floor, looking to see if it has fallen between the cracks, and notice it under Sam’s seat. I grab it and pocket it. I stand up and get about halfway, only to come eye-to-eye with Sam’s bare belly button. I peer up, and he’s on his tiptoes in the overhead compartment, trying to wriggle out his duffle bag.

Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. With each stretch and pull of him trying to get his bag out, his sweatpants shift further and further down, exposing the band of his Hanes boxers. Fuck off. Honestly. What have I done to deserve this torture?

I stand as tall as I can and stare right at the bottom of the overhead compartment just as he gets his bag free. God, I need a fucking nap.

“We have to stop at baggage claim.” I remind him as we start to walk single file down the aircraft.

“Right.”

We both say goodbye to the stewardesses, both of whom bid Sam a warm farewell and don’t bother to look at me. Lovely.

“I think it's this way.” He says, pointing at the signs. I let him lead the way; if he wants to captain our way through the airport, so be it. My brain is fried, and I don’t even want to be here anyway. We walk down two flights of stairs to a carpeted area at ground level, nine carousels lined up next to each other. He takes a left to one-half of them and points.

“They said this one.”

So we wait. And we wait. And we wait some more.

Bag after bag comes out, none of which are mine. I start to get restless. Stepping from foot to foot.

“Sam.” I look over at him. I tuck my hair behind my ears and then begin wringing my hands together. “My bag isn’t here.”

“What do you mean your bag isn’t here?” He drops his duffle off his shoulder with a loud thud.

“I mean, none of these bags are my luggage.” My eyes are wide, and my pulse picks up. “Oh god.” I run my hands over my face and start to pace back and forth in front of him. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He calls to me. “Birdie!” finally grabbing a hold of my shoulders and stopping me. “We will go check with the baggage claim office and figure it out. It’ll be fine. Please calm down.”

“Calm down? You want me to CALM DOWN?” I start to raise my voice a bit too loudly for where we are. Even though it’s nearly a ghost town down here for it still being in the middle of the day, I know I’m embarrassing him, but I can’t stop myself in the heat of the moment.

“We're in another state. This is for WORK, and my luggage is gone. I will have nothing to wear to anything they need us to do. I can’t even brush my teeth! And you want me to be CALM?” my chest rises and falls with my rapid breaths. He reaches out and snatches one of my hands and cradles it between both of his.

“I just meant we’ll figure it out, okay?”

A frown makes its way to my face, and I just wave him onward to whatever plan he’s internally concocted. He leans down and grabs his duffle bag, and heads off to his destination.

When he finally reaches the desk for our airline, no one will pay him any attention. All trying to get their own affairs in order before glancing over at him.

“Excuse me.” he says and waits. No one looks. “Excuse me.” he tries again, and nothing. Finally, seeing a side of Sam I’ve never seen before, he raises his voice and yells, “Who the hell do I need to talk to to get my girlfriend’s luggage?” and I nearly choke on my own saliva.

“Sorry sir, what can I do for you.” a petite young woman says to him.

“My girlfriend checked a bag, and it wasn’t at baggage claim. We’re in town for a business trip, and it’s important that she has her luggage. How can we figure out where it is?” My eyes gloss over and my ears start to play static noise at the second mention of ‘girlfriend’. I don’t even hear the rest of the conversation when he shakes me back to reality.

“They sent it down the wrong track. She said it should be on number 2 instead of 7.” When I fail to move my feet, he questions me.

“I’m your what now?” I ask him. Girlfriend.

“I just thought they’d take me more seriously if I said that. ‘Coworker who usually hates me and bickers with me all the time’ doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.” he says casually, putting an arm around me and leading me in the direction the receptionist sent him. “Why? Do you think I should have said something else? Fiancee? Wife?”

“Oh, Sam, for the love of God, please shut up.” I rub my fingers over my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. Yep, I definitely need a nap.

“Damn, okay..” he laughs.

We finally make it to the right carousel and I grab my luggage. Crisis averted. I give him a small thank you, knowing he made it happen but also still being incredibly annoyed by this process. And maybeeee taking it out on him a little bit. Just a little..

We make it to the front entrance, where a man in a suit and cute little hat has a sign that says “Sam Kiszka and Willa Clarke”. He introduces himself as Christian, takes my bag and leads us to his vehicle. I hop into the backseat as Sam and Christian put the luggage in the trunk. When Sam joins me in the backseat, I don’t even bother to open my eyes.

“He said the hotel is like a half an hour’s drive with the traffic.” He whispers to me. The faint click of his seatbelt follows. I hold up my hand, give him a thumbs up, and try to nap the rest of the way there.

The ride feels much longer than it actually is, given its bumper-to-bumper traffic. The roads are terrible and bumpy, and he zigzags through the cars, but I try not to pay attention. I wish I had some melatonin so I could just conk out when we get there. Every curve, bump, and honk of the horn grate on my last nerve as I’m pulled from my nap and further thrust into insanity.

I feel myself barely keeping it together by the time that we get to the hotel. Longing for my PJs, I meet the boys at the trunk to get my luggage. I say thank you to Christian and watch as Sam shakes his hand and stealthily hands him a tip. Even in my half-asleep brain fog, that still makes my stomach flip. Why was that kinda.. Nope, not even going there.

I follow behind Sam, and he opens the door for me. At least he has manners. And we wait our turn to talk to the receptionist at the front desk.

“What name is the reservation under?” He asks. I pull my phone out of my pocket and go searching for the email in my inbox.

“Says both of us.” I pocket my phone again.

We step up to the counter, and the young man greets us with a pleasant smile. “Welcome to the Hyatt, I’m Dustin. How can I help you?” His curly hair bounces as he talks.

“We have a reservation under Sam Kiszka or Willa Clarke,” Sam replies.

“You’re with the newspapers, right?”

He shakes his head.

“You’re in room 422. You’ll head down this way to the elevators, and you’re on floor four.” Dustin says as he slides us our room keys. Sam grabs them, handing me the extra.

“We have continental breakfast every morning starting at 6 and going until 9 in the morning. We have plenty of amenities, like a pool and fitness center you’re free to use, just use your key to access the rooms. If you need anything else, call down to us from the phone in your room.”

We thank yet another person and make our way to the elevator. Sam presses the correct floor button and I lean against the back wall.

“The home-iest home stretch of all home stretches.” He says to me, and I just glare at him, having depleted my energy for the day. God, I’ve lost the will to bicker with him.

The elevator dings, and I nearly hear the chorus of angels singing in the distance. My bed is calling me. Well, a bed is calling me. I tote behind Sam like the sleepy toddler I’ve become as he twists and turns his way down the appropriate hallways until he reaches room 422. The golden room. Finally.

He places the key against the pad, the light turns green, and the sound of it unlocking is music to my ears. He steps inside flicks on the light, and starts hysterically laughing. I’m not even sure I want to know what’s so funny when I ask him, but I do anyway.

“Why are you laughing?” his tall frame blocking my view of anything as I try to get my suitcase in the door. I shut the door when I’m finally successful, and he’s wiping the tears from his eyes as he continues to roar with laughter. I let go of my luggage handle and step into the light.

“Oh. My. God.”

Of fucking course, there’s only one bed.

Chapter Six

Chapter 8

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