#12 days of tropemas 2022

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Blame It on the Mistletoe

On the first day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A jealousy fic with mutual pining and friends to lovers too!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Mistletoe" by Justin Bieber

Trope: Jealousy

~~~

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, semi-public sex, possessive/jealous themes

Words: 5.2k

Author's Note: Let's start with a big one and end with a big one - here's a toast to the start of another 12 Days of Tropemas! 🥂 You can find the Tropemas 2022 masterlist underneath the 'Series' section at the bottom of my pinned Masterlist!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

There were three facts about the night that contributed to bringing you to where you were currently. And where you were just happened to be lip-locked with Danny Wagner in the middle of a corporate party.

Fact #1: You came here as Josh’s plus one.

Fact #2: You were tired of waiting for Josh to give you an indication (literally anything would have sufficed) that he saw you as more than a friend.

Fact #3: Despite it being a major health risk around the talent that had already proven being sick wasn’t going to help anybody, there were plenty of mistletoe sprigs planted in the most inconvenient of places.

Like here, at the end of the bar where you picked up your poison of choice. You were already a couple of Amaretto sours deep, and Josh had gone off to schmooze with an older gentleman that you vaguely recognized as one of the senior sound tech guys, which left you a little lonely, a little bitter, and wanting another drink. So, in the spirit of the open bar, you got one.

And then, long story short, Danny had bumped into you, winked, made a crude joke before pointing up at the decoration in bad taste, and then kissed you.

And you kissed him back, because why the hell wouldn’t you?

It was over all too soon, and he pulled back chuckling, a drunken flush settled high on his cheeks. “Now don’t go falling in love with me,” he warned jokingly, already starting to drift away, back to where he had been listening to an old gramophone with Jake. “I’ve been told I have magic lips!”

Already in a better mood than before, you laughed and shook your head. “Sure you do,” you called back to him, taking a rather long sip from your newly poured drink.

It wasn’t a minute later that Josh wandered up to you, standing closer than he normally did. “Having fun?” he asked lightly, only maintaining eye contact for a second before he looked down to where he was swirling his liquor against the sides of his glass.

You dipped your head with a raise of your brows. “Always,” you said dryly. “Although the bar has been a considerable player in that evaluation.”

Josh mumbled something that you were a little slow to catch; you were settling into a nice buzz, and it was loosening the lock on the box that kept your feelings of insecurity and resentment that developed as a result of you somehow tricking yourself into thinking that Josh would ever see you as more than what you were now.

Just friends.

“You what?” you asked, bringing your ear closer. Josh took a deep breath through his nose, and then looked away.

“Nothing.”

You were glad that perhaps your allusion to not having a good time when he wouldn’t pay you any attention caused him to stick close for a while. You weren’t familiar with the people here, and having Josh to talk to and laugh with, once he loosened up a little bit (which, considering you hadn’t even yelled at him, you weren’t sure why he seemed so uptight in the first place) was a blessing.

But even fun events like these were still work functions, and Josh was pulled into another dull conversation with one of the few journalists that had been invited eventually, leaving your eyes to wander and attention to stray towards something – anything – that would be more fun than listening to Josh tell the same story you’d heard six times over the course of the night.

And, like a beacon of light, you just so happened to catch sight of Sam through the doorway where a live band was playing soft, jazzy Christmas tunes. 

Sam was always a fun time. 

You drifted away from Josh and followed the call of music. “You look a little lonely,” you teased once you got close enough, and Sam tore his eyes away from the band to smile at you. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, moving over so that you could both watch from the center. “Yeah, Mom and Dad just left with Ronnie, but I just really like this song. I wanted to hear it before getting back to work.”

You scoffed at his loose terminology, but listened closely and finally picked out the melancholy melody of I’ll Be Home For Christmas. “It’s a good song,” you agreed. 

Watching the musicians play, you caught the eye of a trombone player, and she smirked from behind her instrument before nodding her head upwards. At first, you thought that it was a part of the showmanship, but then she did it again, even more pronounced, and you looked up.

Mistletoe.

You were already one down on the list, what was the harm in making it two?

“Hey, Sammy, look,” you said, drawing his attention to the same spot. “Give me a little sugar, Sugar.”

He chuckled and hesitated just a bit, brow furrowing, but just as the song ended and you were about to pull away and laugh the rejection off, softly gave you a platonic peck, drawing a small cheer from the band, who cried out that you were couple #4 of the night that had been caught under the lover’s décor.

Sam tilted his head when you looked back at him from laughing along with the band. “Where’s Josh?”

“Here! Sorry, got caught up in a little business. Y/N is just…on a streak tonight, aren’t you?” Josh chuckled tightly, catching you by the hand as he approached from behind. “I can’t let you out of my sight for even one minute, can I?”

You deadpanned. “Doesn’t seem to be a problem for you,” you said petulantly as Josh dragged you away, back towards the party again. “You said this would be a party, but it’s not. This is a black tie event, Josh,” you lamented, trying not to complain but unable to hold it back. “There’s a big difference.”

Josh didn’t look at you. “I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “I know that I didn’t give you a whole lot of details and that it was last minute, but Y/N—” He finally turned on his heel and came face to face with you, eyes softening at your stumble to stop before you collided. “I really do appreciate you coming here with me.”

Were you a little less focused on his features up close, you might have noticed the small amount of emphasis on the last two words that Josh slipped in. But you didn’t. His apology did make you smile a bit, though. “I know,” you sighed, flipping your hair out of your face. “What would you do without me?”

“Waste away in sorrow and boredom,” he assured you, patting you on the arm as you looped it through his. “And, uh, just so you know, you don’t have to kiss everyone you end up under the mistletoe with,” he said quietly, so as not to draw attention amongst the murmurs of conversation.

You shrugged against him. “I know. But it was fun. And I was the one who initiated that one,” you laughed. “It would have been in bad taste to reject him after I told him to.”

Josh didn’t laugh with you. Instead, he steered you around the room for a leisurely stroll - a tour of the paintings that hung for the event.

But, once again, your companionship wasn’t fated to last, and you’d only made half a loop around the perimeter, pointing out funny details in the art fastened to the wall all the while, when a woman locked her eyes on you both and started making a beeline towards you.

“Incoming,” you sighed, ready to let go of Josh’s arm. 

But he didn’t let it go; he tightened his hold, instead. “That’s just one of the studio execs. She’s probably just going to go over a couple of details for next week.”

Josh was wrong, though, and the studio exec grimaced at you apologetically before admitting that Josh had missed a piece of paperwork and needed to come cross his t’s and dot his i’s.

“It’s fine,” you said, waving her silent apology off. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw Jake and Lori mingling over there – I’ll just go join them.” Without much of a second thought about it, the exec stepped away and you again attempted to pull away from Josh, but he caught your arm. 

“Wait.”

You glanced back at him, tilting your head in concern when you saw his jumpy, restless mannerisms. “Are you okay?”

He licked his lips and then let them pop open in a way that had you absolutely entranced. “Can you just…stay here? This won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m just gonna go say hi to Jake and Mrs. Wagner, Josh. I’m not rushing out to my pumpkin now that it’s midnight or anything,” you teased.

“Please, Y/N?” Two minutes, and then I’ll be all yours, I promise. Just stay here for me,” he implored, looking serious as all was.

He wasn’t able to wait for an answer, not with the exec looking back and calling his name when she realized he wasn’t following. His gaze lingered, but he left with her, and you were stuck wondering what his sudden weird behavior was all about.

In the end, you did wait for two minutes. Five, actually, and you knew because you timed it. But it was weird being a loner lingering around some precious art with no one to laugh at it with, so eventually you disregarded Josh’s strange demeanor and sidled up next to Jake and Lori, who were just finishing up laughing about one thing or another.

“Hey guys, mind if I join your ranks?” you asked softly, knowing that the answer would be yes.

Lori’s eyes lit up, and she donned a slightly mischievous smile on her normally sweet-as-pie face that was more fitting of her son than it was on her. “Only,” she said dramatically, a sure sign that Big Dan was out there somewhere completely sober so that his drunk wife would have a safe ride home, “if you give Jakey a little kiss.”

The coincidence of it all. Out of everyone in the band, you’d gotten propositioned (indirectly) by each member except the one you wanted to. “Oh, is that right?” you teased, crooking a brow up at Jake, who rolled his eyes with a small smirk. “Is this a new band initiation thing?”

“No. Lori has been trying to get me to kiss every single person in this room because of the damn mistletoe,” he teased, smiling softly at Lori’s resounding giggle. It was nice to see her having fun.

You looked up, and sure enough, there was a small sprig hanging from a strand on the chandelier. “Well, I’ve managed to get caught under one with both of your little brothers,” you sighed, playing into Lori’s game. “Want to cross off another box on my BINGO sheet?”

“Do it, do it, do it,” Lori chanted gleefully, and Jake sighed overdramatically.

He held out his hand to you, amusement shining in his eyes. He reminded you so much of Josh in these moments, and it sent a rush of affection through you. “Well, if it has to be someone, I suppose you’re probably my best option.”

“Oh gee,” you snarked facetiously, “you really know how to flatter a girl.”

But you went anyway, meeting him in a kiss that was half-smile as Lori did a small happy dance, clapping softly and grinning so wide her eyes scrunched up and disappeared. “Christmas joy!” she cheered, and you broke away giggling.

It really was more reminiscent of the joy you felt when you were around the boys, and you were a little bummed that Josh hadn’t really been around most of the evening, but you had enough good company otherwise that you were beginning not to care.

But not caring was apprently not in the cards for you, since every time you began to settle into a group, Josh would come around and alienate you again. And that's exactly what happened when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“I thought I asked you to wait over there,” Josh whispered into your ear so that the others couldn’t hear him. His fingers were digging slightly into your skin, and it made your stomach flip-flop.

You shrugged. “Got bored.”

He didn’t answer you; instead, he sidled up and wrapped an arm around your waist, something he always did but, in a way that felt different this time. Almost…possessive if you didn’t know any better. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had quite the night, so I’m gonna get the car,” he said with a smile towards his brother and Lori. “Wasn’t expecting so much work this evening. You good to round the other two up?” That was directed purely at Jake.

He’d been the DD for the evening, and since they all had their stuff at Josh’s house, had decided to have an old-fashioned sleepover, putting more finishing touches on the album they were planning on going to the studio for the next week.

He got the confirmation he was looking for and you barely had time to say goodbye before Josh physically pulled you away from them, now grasping your hand as if you’d try to run. “You know, between the freezing cold and the warm party,” you said in confusion, trying to tug your coat on, “I’d much rather be in there. Do you need me to get the car with you?”

It came off slightly pissy, you were aware. But Josh's behavior was confusing and you were sobering up so nothing was as lighthearted anymore. You were out in the parking lot already, though, where you noticed that it had started snowing at some point during the party, and there was a light dusting covering all the cars now. Josh made it to his car without saying anything, but as soon as you hit him lightly to get him to stop ignoring you, he turned around as the car beeped unlocked. 

Josh had never been angry with you. You’d gotten in teasing little spats and had run annoyed with each other, but never bona fide angry. And that’s what Josh looked at the moment.

“I had to get out of there,” he said, an edge in his voice. “Sorry, let me rephrase: I had to get you out of there.”

His bitterness wasn’t lost on you, and standing out in the cold with Josh angry at you wasn't how you’d envisioned the night ending. “Why? What was I doing? And why are you angry all of the sudden?”

He looked at you, disbelief written out comically plain on his face. “All of the sudden?” he said patronizingly, stepping closer to you. “Y/N, I’ve been…god, you don’t even see it, do you?”

“See what?” His vagueness was wearing on you, and you began to shiver. 

“Ever since you decided you wanted to kiss all my fucking brothers right in front of me when I invited you,” he emphasized, growing agitated which, at the proximity you were standing together, made your heart rate pick up a little. “You don’t think that I might be a little bit angry?”

You blinked at him owlishly, eyes wide as you finally realized what he was saying. “You’re…jealous?”

He closed his eyes and ruffled a hand through his hair, muttering, “Hopeless,” before grabbing your waist abruptly and pressing you to his snowy car door. “So incredibly jealous. But I don’t want to have to be jealous anymore, Y/N, and I-- just...stop me if you don't want this, okay?”

It was all he got out before he slammed his lips to yours. He didn’t give you time to think, only react as he pushed forward on all accounts and began to overwhelm your senses.

It was out of character for Josh, this reckless carelessness. In all your daydreams, the first time he kissed you was like him: sweet, gentle, soft, and joyful. Not this erratic culmination of a frustrating night, sloppy and cold and rigid.

But you weren’t pushing him away. The 'erratic culmination of a frustrating night' applied to the both of you and, well, this was certainly a sign that he saw you as more than a friend. And either way - soft and sweet or rough and passionate - you weren’t complaining about the kiss, not when it came to Josh. You were sure it showed in how enthusiastically you kissed him back, pressing your hand to the back of his neck and clutching his coat with your other one, or hopes so, at least. 

To finally get what you wanted after waiting for so long – it was quickly becoming a drug that you didn’t want to stop, but Josh eventually pulled away after a minute.

“Get in the car,” he murmured softly, the demand clear but with room for you to say no.

There was absolutely no hesitation in your actions, though, as you threw the door open and climbed in, immediately crowded against the seat by Josh, who’d slammed the door as soon as his feet cleared it. The way he grasped your thighs and manhandled them apart so that he could slot himself between them had your legs trembling, and you were certain that he felt it.

The action also, however, made your dress ruch up around your hips, exposing your panties and making you intimately aware of the dull pulse that had started when Josh pushed you against the car grow into a full flutter of tightening muscles between your legs.

“Look at you now,” he whispered, hands smoothing up your thighs until his thumbs pressed into the crease where your underwear stopped. “All spread out for…who, Y/N?”

The question caught you off-guard and made you reel back, immediately pushing back at his attempt to get you to submit. “Who the fuck else would I be spread out for?” you snarked breathily, watching in interest as his eyes, cast in shadows from the outside street lamps trying to break through the layer of snow covering you. “The ghost of Christmas past?”

If someone asked you to relay the events that happened next, you’d be unable to recall just how Josh got your panties off without knocking either of you to the floor or losing the moment. But he was just as intense now, staring intently at the burgeoning wetness that he dipped his thumb into before staring you down and bringing the digit to his lips.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I was understanding tonight,” he said quietly, the low noise in the car just adding to the atmosphere. “When you kissed Danny, it was no big deal. A funny little coincidence, I thought.”

“I didn’t go around meaning to kiss your brothers,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Besides, it wasn’t like Josh was around to know that, anyways. He just happened to show up at the wrong times.

He didn’t agree, apparently, and his hand shot up to your throat with a gentle pressure that was only there to warn you. From there, those same fingers slid up to grip your chin. “I wasn’t finished,” he said shortly, molten eyes burning into yours. You were frozen - pitifully turned on at his display of desire and the discrepancy from his usual demeanor (not that you didn’t want to jump his bones either way). “I was a little pissed when you decided to suggest it to Sam; the poor boy was just trying to enjoy the music,” he tsked, and your face burned even though you knew he wasn’t really insinuating anything humiliating.

But it was enough to loosen your lips again. “Sam kissed me back,” you pointed out, expression melting into wanton desire as he leaned down to interrupt you with another kiss.

“I said not another word,” he said into your ear afterwards, right before he straightened up. His hand tore at his belt buckle and snapped it through the loops in a way that had you much wetter than you already had been. “See, even Sam wasn’t such a big deal, because it was mistletoe. But then?” he scoffed, pulling back to rip his fitted dress pants off. Following it up with a blunt drag of his fingers across your clit so that you arched your back and squirmed underneath him, his voice faltered in arousal. “Then you went and kissed my twin brother right in front of me when I asked you so nicely to stay where you fucking were for once. And that–” he chuckled, looking for consent that you gave immediately, if a little breathily, “–that was just the cherry on top.” 

His middle finger slid into you suddenly, slender and tough and skilled. You whined at the sudden intrusion, gripping the bottom of the seat as Josh used his limited space to pump his hand into you. It was quite evident how much your little game had excited you– the wet noises that sounded out when Josh added another one gave you away and seemed louder in the enclosed space of the car.

“Is this what you wanted?” Josh asked, his entire body tense as his forearms flexed with the ‘come hither’ motion he’d begun in fervor. “Kissing my brothers– do you know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but all that escaped was a half cut-off moan, shaking with the rhythm that Josh was making. Each thrust pushed you higher and higher, and you were surprised that the heat wasn’t melting the snow right off his windows.

Josh’s thumb met your clit, and the sensations were enough to make you whine. Against his cloth seats, your dress rode further and further up, until you used one hand to push it down again. It was getting in the way, obscuring your view of where Josh was taking his pleasure in yours, his eyes hooded and watching you – always watching you – while his other hand had brought his cock out to play. Or…for him to play with.

“What, you wanna be shy now?” he drawled, taking his fingers out and fisting his cock, warming it up with your slick before nudging himself between your lips and against your entrance. “Take your tits out, sweet girl. I wanna see them. I am the one you wanna show them to, right?”

“Yes, Josh,” you gasped, bucking your hips to try and slip him inside. It perhaps wasn’t the first time you’d imagined – it was better. It was raw (whoops) and validating in a way you didn’t know you needed after so long of just being the friend. “I want you,” you assured, peeling the stretchier material up until your breasts spilled out, having been tightly bound to you for the entire evening by the dress. It was on the few times you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and it was paying off, just to see Josh’s face drop slack as he drank them in, going so far to turn on an overhead light.

But that caused you to look nervously at the windows. What if someone saw?

As if he could read your mind, Josh ran his hands up your body to cup you and tease your nipples, already pebbled from the cold. “Don’t worry, Y/N, nobody can see through the snow and the tint. I promise.”

The peek of the Josh you knew made your heart clench, and with a pull of his shirt, he attached his lips to yours and guided himself into your body with a groan that echoed in your mouth.

“Oh, god, Josh,” you gasped, face screwing up as he stretched you out. Your toes curled and you clenched your thighs around his hips, fingers digging into his back while you brought him closer to you. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to feel you inside me,” you whispered, and Josh let out a soft moan at that.

“Well, you didn’t have to kiss my brothers to get me to fuck you,” he responded with a distracted grin, once he pulled up enough to brace himself. 

You were about to roll your eyes and object when he finally rolled his hips forward, nudging his cock even deeper into you before pulling out and sheathing himself once again, beginning to fuck you in a rhythm that was short and powerful to match the minimal space he had. 

The way he filled you up was nothing short of euphoric. He lit up the nerves everywhere he touched, and after fantasizing about it all those times, your body seemed to suck Josh in with the intent never to let him go. 

“You’re so wet, Y/N, damn,” Josh panted, eyes hooded and glancing down to where the wet noises of each thrust were coming from. “Kissing Jake didn’t get you all soaked and ready for my cock, right?”

You knew your hair would look like a rat’s nest from how much you were squirming and thrashing your head back and forth against the seats. “No. I didn’t kiss them like I wanted to kiss you.”

Josh’s response was interrupted by his phone ringing, and speak of the devil, Jake’s contact popped up on his screen, and you suddenly remembered where you were and what you’d been doing before Josh decided to give it to you in his back seat. Josh didn’t care, though, and the phone rang out as he upped his efforts and snapped his hips into you as deeply as he could, snaking his fingers down to play with your clit.

Your back arched at the stimulation, and any comment you had was preceded with a whine. “Josh, we’re supposed to pick up your brothers.”

Josh hauled you up, and you repositioned with him, letting him plant his feet on the ground as you straddled him with your breasts in his face. If anything, the change made him care even less about what he was supposed to be doing.

“I don’t care,” he chuckled breathlessly, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he grunted and shoved his hips up into you. 

You were fast approaching your high, quicker than usual, and Josh was doing everything he could to get you there, it seemed: angling his hips, mouthing over your tits, and still slipping those damn fingers around your clit and where he was still moving inside of you. “They might come looking for us,” you said, your hips twitching and bearing down to help get him to where you wanted. 

“Let them,” Josh grunted again. “You made me watch you kiss them, they can watch me fuck you. Fair trade.”

You would have laughed if you weren’t working your hips like a bitch in heat, desperately climbing a ladder upward, but not fast enough. You knew Josh was joking, but he seemed hell-bent on keeping up the narrative just for shits and giggles, and you wondered if it was part of his punishment when his fingers stopped dancing around your bundle of nerves. 

You saw him wipe his hand on the seat, and that distracted you enough that when he leaned forward, you were pitched with him, which forced you to wrap yourself around him even more as he desperately grasped the seat in front of him and used it to anchor himself as his rhythm faltered and all he could do was recklessly push his hips into you, deep and hard and without much finesse anymore.

Your noises grew in frequency and volume; you were right there, all it would take would be a couple more thrusts at this exact angle and— and—-

“I’m cumming!” you sobbed into Josh’s neck, jolting with each powerful thrust into you.

Feeling you cum around him, Josh groaned and pitched up once more, and then warmth exploded inside you. He hugged you to him as he leaned back against the seats to catch his breath, and you whimpered as he shifted in you. 

“Was that better than kissing my brothers?” he asked jokingly, stroking your hair with one hand while the other drew lines up your bare back. 

Now that you were cooling down, you felt the consequence of not turning the heat on, and the sweat on your body quickly made you shiver, so Josh grabbed his coat and covered you while you nodded. “Josh,” you deadpanned, “If you have to ask that question, you need to gain a little more confidence in your abilities.”

He snorted as his phone went off again. “Ah, shit. They really are going to come looking for us soon if we don’t…” He trailed off, obviously not wanting to leave the warmth of your body, or give off the impression that he wasn’t going to participate in any aftercare at all, but you hadn’t exactly picked the perfect time and place for that, so you understood.

“It’s fine. Just…bring me back to yours and make me hot chocolate, and we’ll call it even.”

Josh looked scandalized, and he vigorously shook his head in dissent. “Uh-uh. You’re getting more than hot chocolate– who have you been fucking that your standards are so low?” You smiled, but as soon as you opened your mouth, Josh’s face scrunched up and he kissed you to interrupt. “Actually, don’t answer that. That’s gonna change when we get back to my house,” he promised, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “I’ll show you as many times as you want,” he grinned, finally dislodging himself as he waited for you to get off his lap. 

You colored as you found and pulled up your panties as quickly as you could, not wanting to drip in Josh’s car. “I…might just take you up on that,” you said quietly, watching for Josh’s reaction.

His features softened and he smiled, which was a little off-putting since he was tucking his dick away simultaneously, then wiped his hand again on his nice, cloth seats. He must have seen your expression, because he cocked his head. “What?” he queried, moving to get out of the backseat.

“You just…wiped my cum on your seats,” you laughed. “Your brothers are going to have to sit back here, and they might–”

Josh tugged you out of the seat and pressed you up against the side of the car for the second time that night. “What? Feel you? Smell you? I bet their mouths would water,” he murmured lasciviously. “But I don’t care.”

You blushed but chuckled lightly. “You know, for someone who made such a big deal about me kissing his brothers, you’re sure making a 180 here with all the 'not caring'.”

“You wanna know why I don’t care, then?” he asked, lips by your ear as he fished for his keys. 

“Enlighten me.”

“Because those are my seats, and I made you cum in my car. If that’s where I have available to clean your sweet slick off my fingers every fucking time I touch you from now on, so be it—“ and that was a promise if you’d ever heard one, one that had you squirming and refocusing on the desire you held for Josh, tucked away and safe in your body, “—and my brothers will know that there’ll be no more of this mistletoe shit.”

You ran your tongue across the roof of your mouth, ducking under Josh’s arm to escape the newly-grown tension and into the front passenger seat. You wouldn’t be held liable for anything that transpired when he was talking like that and making vows that sounded a lot like a commitment— at the very least, like this would happen again, maybe even several times.

“Watch out, Josh,” you sang playfully, catching his gaze at your ass before you disappeared around the back of the car. You reconvened inside, this time fully dressed and going to pick up his brothers for real this time. “Your jealousy is showing.”

~~~

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

Teenage Wasteland

On the sixth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A steamy Christmas Resort meet cute with praise kink!Sammy!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Snowflakes of Love" by Toni Braxton

Trope: Christmas Resort

~~~

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, praise kink

Words: 2.8k

Author's Note: Sorry it's late tonight... I had such a fierce craving for melted cheese that I grappled with myself about ordering some cheese sticks forever before I gave into the craving, and that took some time off my hands. Whoops! Here you go, though, and I hope everyone who's planning on watching the concert tonight has fun!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

If there was ever a time that you were glad your mother seemed to have partied herself into someone else’s bed, it was now. Because somehow, someway, you'd managed to party the sexiest man you’d ever seen into yours. And if there had been someone in your shared room, you wouldn’t have his lips at your throat, his hands sliding up your dress to your breasts, or his rock hard cock against your hip as you tugged him into the room.

And that would have been the biggest damn tragedy you’d ever experienced.

“Thank god she’s not here,” you sighed, leading him to the bed in a way you hoped didn’t reveal just how desperate you were to feel him on your skin. “We’d have had to fuck in a storage closet if she was.”

He chuckled, precisely undoing what few buttons were connecting his shirt, and then gently put his hand over yours as you struggled with your dress zipper. “I’d have done it anywhere, anytime. All you had to do was say the words,” he purred, taking over for you. 

 Sam. He’d said his name was Sam.

…

Being pushed into a stranger’s arms was something that had its merits, at times. Like in movies, where a strong, sexy firefighter catches you as you’re pushed into the street. Or when it was a billionaire playboy just destined to fall for you.

But when it was very reminiscent of a scene from “High School Musical,” and all eyes were on you as the DJ felt the need to point out that no one had asked you to dance as the clock counted down to Christmas – no. This was not one of those times.

The only thing keeping you from bolting the second attentions were turned away was the fact that the man you’d been pushed into was one of the most beautiful creatures you’d ever been close enough to touch. 

That fact was the one that had you chuckling, uncharacteristically hesitant, as your partner moved into position, fumbling a little bit with hand placement at first but quickly getting into the swing of things. “Um…sorry that you were pressured into this, it was a real dick move of the DJ,” you scoffed, voice a little small and insecure.

But the man just stared at you, confusion twisting his mouth into a slight smile. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice happy and welcoming and warm. “The DJ’s my main man Danny – I asked him to do this.”

You felt your face heat under the festive red and green spotlights swinging around the room. “Wha-- wait, really?” 

Doubt poured out of every pore in your body, it seemed, and the handsome stranger took his hand from yours to cross his heart. “I’m being totally serious. I couldn’t let a pretty thing like you walk away without a partner,” he flirted, coming in close enough that you could smell his cologne.

'Expensive' was what it smelled like.

“Well,” you responded, relaxing a bit in the lowering tensions. Something about this man was strangely comfortable. “Here I am, stranger.”  There was no harm in flirting back a little, right? It was one of the last days you had at the resort - you could live what precious days you had left of your teenage years out in true 'teen dream' fashion.

“Hopefully not for long," the man said, leading you around the dance floor in a simple step-and-rock. "My name is Sam, and I think this Christmas, Santa might have actually put me on the nice list for once.”

…

“You work wonders with that little mouth of yours,” Sam groaned, hand laced through your hair as you bobbed up and down on his dick. Every time you hit a good spot with a wet swipe of your tongue, he jerked; not up into your mouth, though – almost away from your mouth. “Don’t make me cum too soon, pretty thing, I have to wrap the gift before I give it.”

You had to pull off to giggle, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. “Your dick’s a gift now, huh? I think,” you said, demurely crawling up his thin body, “that maybe I should be the judge of that.”

Sam’s hands wandered up and down your curves as you kissed him, hot and heavy and deep. It felt like you were finally getting that moment that all the coming of age films put in the minds of impressionable pre-teens: a party, a handsome stranger, a sloppy makeout session, and the promise of more all as you kept glancing towards the door to make sure your Mom didn’t come back.

“Condom’s in my wallet,” Sam panted, breaking away from your red, swollen lips after searching every inch your mouth had to offer with his tongue. After getting up so that he could retrieve it and put it on, he crawled over you, his long, beautiful hair curtaining you both from the impersonal décor of the resort room. “But I bet I can prove it to you,” he said, in what was supposed to be arrogance, you thought, but the slight shake and nervous voice crack gave you the idea that despite his beauty, he either didn’t do this much or was a little bit on the inexperienced side.

When his fingers met your core, though, and delved into you before hooking and stroking like he’d crafted each nerve himself– there was nothing inexperienced about this skill of his at all.

…

“It’s just me, my older sister and my uncle here,” Sam said, lowering himself into the hot tub in just his boxers. Neither of you had wanted to take the trip to get your swimsuits, so you decided to risk being caught and just stripped to your underwear, not even trying to hide the fact that you were both looking as the other took off their clothes. “My twin older brothers were supposed to come, too, but then they– well, it’s not important what they did, but my parents grounded them.”

“Wait,” you said, brow furrowing. “How old are you? How old are they?” You didn’t want to accidentally prey on someone under 18 just because they looked older than you.

Sam gave a little quirk of a smile. “I’m 19, they’re 22. But they weren’t about to tell my mom and dad to fuck off.”

That was a relief to hear. About his age - although you supposed it was also a good thing that his brothers still listened to their parents, too. “It’s my mom and I,” you replied, going back to the original conversation. “Her girlfriends all pitched in and got her and I this trip as a Christmas gift. And my mom needed a vacation.” You thought back to the year behind you and some of the trials and tribulations you’d both gone through, but specifically her, and wondered if they were really something that should be shared with a complete stranger. Especially one who was obviously down for some extended nighttime activities, from how he’d been flirting.

“Something on your mind?”

You blinked back to the present and chuckled, shaking the thoughts off. “It’s nothing. So you said you’re in a band, huh? Any good?”

Sam’s eyes lit up, and you wondered if they’d been successful at all or not – he still loved doing it, so it seemed. “I dunno, ask our Grammy.”

…

As Sam’s hips pistoned in and out of you, you let out a quiet mewl every time he pushed in to the hilt. His breaths were even more labored, and he was panting like a dog into your neck while he pawed at your tits and grabbed at your hips for more purchase, like he didn’t know what exactly he wanted to use his hands for first.

You stood by your earlier theory, that maybe he didn’t have quite as much experience as that cocky facade was there to make you think he did, but the sex was good, he had more than enough length and girth to keep you stretched out and filled up, and you could see your orgasm on the horizon.

So, even though he didn’t seem to need it, you dug into your little box of kinks you had and began to let out praises and encouragement, excited to see what kind of reaction they’d get you. With your lips at his ear, you said, “God, Sam, you fill me up so well. They say if they’re hot, they can’t fuck, but they’ve clearly never met you.”

Sam’s grip tightened on you and he whined, his hips picking up speed. But he was a rockstar; it really wasn’t a surprise that he craved attention and validation from others. He readjusted his position and flipped your around to your hands and knees, slipping and sliding around a bit when he tried to re-enter you from behind. “I wouldn’t be half as good of a fuck if this pussy wasn’t made to take my cock.” He found purchased and didn't hold back like he had the first time.

You groaned and hung your head low, letting your body shake with each thrust into you and desperately hoping that these walls were thick enough for the sake of your neighbors. “Tonight it was,” you agreed, brushing off the fact that you’d likely never see him again after. “Oh shit, Sam, right there– yes, fuck, you’ve got it! Keep hitting me right there and I’ll cum for you,” you promised readily, knowing that you would if he kept catching your g-spot like that. “All over that perfect cock, pretty boy.”

Your plea was low and your promise sincere, but Sam wanted more. “Yeah? How good am I making you feel?” He was shamelessly fishing for more compliments, and you were more than glad to give them.

“Well, I’m about to cum, if that answers it,” you chuckled breathlessly. “Not very many men can make me cum from just their cock alone.”

With a boost of confidence, Sam set his sights on that goal and used your shoulder as a handle to pull you back with, hitting deeper than he had before. It was enough to put you teetering on the edge, and if he could just hold off for a few more well-placed thrusts, you’d fall. “You call me pretty, you make me feel like a sex-god – I don’t know where you’re from, but I’m following you there,” he murmured, his bony, callused fingers digging in harder as his rhythm faltered for a second, then picked up again. 

“You’re so pretty, Sam,” you said honestly. 

He seemed to really like all your affirmations, and this time, they were all true – which wasn’t something you could say for all the men you’d been with. There had been times you praised and flattered them just so that you could get yourself off afterwards, since all men were suckers for compliments. 

Sam, though, hit all your checkmarks and then some. He hummed out something that sounded vaguely like, “More,” but the toll of exertion garbled it.

Either way, you were only more than happy to say ‘more.’ “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and I can’t believe you’re in my bed tonight. The faces you make, even how you–" you were interrupted by a flash of pleasure as he did something with his hips that was no beginner's move, "--how you look fucking sweating– god, I could look at you forever.” Sam’s hips jerked directly into your g-spot then, and it was all you needed to arch your back and gasp, quickly reaching down to circle your clit and extend the orgasm that overtook you. Sam let out a strangled moan from behind you and, with a few more uneven thrusts, buried himself deep inside of you and pulsed, filling up the condom he’d donned. 

As both of you caught your breaths, you shakily lowered yourself down to your forearms and Sam followed, trying to chase the warmth of your cunt that he didn’t seem quite ready to leave, yet. You felt his weight settle on top of you, and the pressure across your body felt…really nice. Like an extra-weighted blanket that kissed your neck and had a hummingbird heartbeat that you could feel where it was pressed to your shoulder blade.

“I’m gonna have to leave soon, aren’t I?” he said softly, dread clear in his tone.

You chuckled from underneath him. “Maybe. But not right now. Right now, you stay right where you are.”

He listened readily, even if he did eventually pull away to take the condom off and hide it in a piece of toilet paper. When he returned, he sat next to you instead of climbing back on top, and you missed his warmth, but you were also tuckered out, and once Sam started trailing his hand up and down your spine, you didn’t know you’d fallen asleep until you woke up, alone in the room.

The door slipped shut – you figured that was what woke up, and the dark shape that turned out to be your mom whispered, “Sorry!” as you sat up, a different name than hers on your lips.

Oh well. It was bound to happen, so you didn’t let the fact that Sam had left without a goodbye keep you from returning to sleep. After you dragged yourself up and to the bathroom, because a UTI was enough to keep you from sleeping again, wrapped in the blanket you’d brought and hoping that your mom didn’t know you were naked underneath it as you passed each other in the room.

…

Considering that you were the one that was supposed to be jumpy after a night out, you found your mom’s behavior strange the next morning at breakfast. Restless, searching, and barely touching her plate, you raised your brows as she acted like a kid on Christmas. Which was apt, considering that it was Christmas. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking towards the door where she’s fixed her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I just…met someone last night?”

A smile spread out across your lips. Because it definitely hadn’t been obvious this morning when she came in smelling like a man, and that thought wiped the smile right off your lips. Because if you could smell her date’s cologne…then shit.

“That’s cool,” you replied mildly. The last thing you wanted to do was give off the impression that you expected anything from her, whether that be a committed relationship or for her to be celibate until she died. She deserved happiness in whichever form it found her, and you weren’t going to let her worry for you ruin anything. 

She smiled, then, real big and genuine. “There he is! Act cool, act cool!” 

“You’re the one freaking out!” you giggled, ducking away with your toast as she batted at you. Turning your head to look over your shoulder in order to see her mystery man, you cocked it with what little neck movement you had left. You didn’t know him, that was for sure. Never seen him before in your life. But something about him was…familiar. 

He greeted you mom with a big smile as well and a smooth kiss to her cheek when she stood up to give him a quick, bashful hug, sneaking in glances at you as she did. “Y/N…this is Joe.”

Not to be taken lightly, you stood up – still shorter than the stranger, but trying to impose your presence by being the first to put your hand out. “Hi, Joe.”

The man looked at you with a glint in his eye that you could have sworn you’d seen somewhere else. The TV? An ad? Who knew, but it was making your eye twitch that you didn’t have an answer. 

“Hello, Y/N – I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” He only grinned at your posturing on him. “My niece and nephew were getting ready in their room when I left, so they should be coming in a few minutes. They’re about your age, I think.” You nodded, still not breaking eye contact with this ‘Joe’ guy. “So that…you know, you won’t have to be stuck in our boring, adult-conversation world.”

Satisfied that you’d at least made him stutter, you smiled sweetly at him. “Right. Taxes and all, huh?” and sat down right as he let out a booming laugh that ended with, “There’s the sleeping beauties! Y/N, my Darling Date,” he said, motioning to your mom, who blushed at the name, “this is my niece, Ronnie, and my nephew, Sam.”

Your head nearly snapped backwards, and your mom moved in to shake their hands – sure enough, it was the beautiful boy who’d snuck out of your room just a few hours before and a girl that shared some of the exact same features that you also picked out on their uncle, and he was grinning like the sun had taken refuge in a puppy dog that had been turned into a human by a fairy or some shit.

While your mom cooed over his sister, you stood up so that you were face to face with Sam. He didn’t take his eyes of yours as he stuck his hand out. “Hi. I’m Sam, and I think Santa finally put me on the nice list this year.”

~~~

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

On the third day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A One-Bed fic with whiny sub!Jake, and it's a Neighbor's AU, too!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Christmas Eve" by Justin Bieber

Trope: One Bed

~~~

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, F. Dom, M. Sub, pet names, a tiny bit of restraint, a single tear, begging, oral sex (f. receiving)

Words: 4.4k

Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind words and generous reblogs, tags, and comments, they mean the world to me! They're also addictive, just so you know ;) Anyways, this one got away from me a bit, so I've decided that each boy will have one longer smut piece and the others will be short and under my self-imposed word limit. Except for Danny. My love gets all the long smut.

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

“Mom, I frew up.”

You almost slammed the door on Jake’s face when he tiredly looked at you with his mournful, moony eyes, but the fact that his own joke only made his lips twitch told you that he actually had a reason to be at your apartment door at 1:45 am. 

The twins were good neighbors. Relatively, at least. You could sometimes hear them arguing through the wall, and other times, you had to send them a text to get them to stop playing their instruments into the wee hours of the morning. Your little duplex townhouse walls weren’t all that thick, but other than the occasional noise complaint that they always dutifully listened to, you were glad to have the happy-go-lucky musicians next door. With how many game nights you’d had and beers you’d shared, you’d even go as far to say that you were friends.

So, you sighed and leaned against the frame, looking at the man expectantly. “What do you need, Jake? This beauty needs her sleep.”

Jake nodded back to his own place, making a face that was both pitiful and disgusted at the same time, which was quickly explained when he said, “Josh brought someone home, and usually some headphones will fix it, but…oh god, please don’t make me describe my trauma.” 

He shivered in the cold December air, and that’s when you realized that he didn’t have shoes on and the only clothes protecting him from the wind were his threadbare sleep shirt and equally frayed plaid pajama pants. All in all, he looked like a little puppy, trembling from the cold and without a place to sleep for the night.

You were no monster; there had been enough nights in your life as a roommate where you wish you didn’t have ears at all that you recognized and acknowledged his pain, but the thing was, you weren’t sure what he wanted you to do about it.

“I won’t. But I..sorry, I’m just not sure what this has to do with me.”

Trying to make it as gentle as possible so that you didn’t put him off, there was really no roundabout way to go about the question. Especially not when its answer would get you both out of the cold.

Jake furrowed his brows in confusion. “Oh. Sorry, I just thought, you know, maybe I could use your guest room? I mean, if you’re comfortable with that,” he said quickly. “We’ve been neighbors for a couple years now, but I don’t want to assume anything. I would rather ask and get rejected though, than try than have to deal with that,” he said venomously, looking back at his place with that same pronounced frown on his face.

You appreciated his attempts to make it your decision but, again, there was just one problem. “I don’t have a guest room,” you explained, grimacing as his face fell. The situation must have been dire if he was that downtrodden after finding out that your second bedroom was an office since…well, since it was just you living there. “But…my couch does double as a futon. It’s not super comfortable, but if you wanted to crash there, I guess, feel free.”

Pure relief spread across his features, and you opened the door wider to allow him in, cursing yourself for not just bringing him in at the beginning and saving you both some body heat. “Anything,” he muttered, quite seriously.  “Literally anything else but what I was dealing with over there. She sounded like a fucking banshee giving birth. And there’s no way my hobbit brother is that good with his dick.”

You snorted, retrieving some sheets from a bin in your hallway closet. “Your hobbit brother… that’s also your twin? That one?” Jake bobbled his head, but didn’t say anything as he began to tug at the back of the couch to free the bed. “Also, it doesn’t have to be his dick,” you pointed out, but Jake shook his head violently at your revelation.

“No. No, no, nope, no thank you I am finished thinking about that twerp in any way, shape, or form for the night.” His words were less convincing when they shook like a dog’s growl as it played tug o’ war. He seemed to be losing the fight with the couch, and you stood there, shamelessly admiring his form in half-amusement and half-serious appreciation.

He had a backside that was better than yours, and after all the years of being ogled at by men as you went about your daily tasks, you figured the universe could look away this one time.

“Oh shit!” he yelped, falling back on that perfect ass as the couch came half-loose with a pop, a grind, and then the tinkle of tiny, flimsy metal screws hitting your floor.

You both stayed quiet for a moment, staring at your mutilated couch that was now propped up on one end and slanted in a way you were certain it wasn’t supposed to slant. And didn’t seem all too eager to go either back down or all the way out, no matter how much you half-heartedly pushed at it.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Jake said defeatedly after a moment. The apology was clear in his voice, and you knew this was bound to happen sooner or later; the couch was, after all, a remnant from your college days. Even then, it had been a curbside find that you and your roommate had tied to the roof of your car with borrowed bungee cords. “I’ll buy you a new couch.”

While you wouldn’t decline the help, it obviously wasn’t his fault entirely, so you shrugged and returned the blankets to their place in the closet. “Don’t beat yourself up for it. Contribute a fourth of the cost to a discount couch from Facebook Marketplace and I’ll let you off the hook, destructo,” you joked, turning around to face him again. Now that the couch option was gone, Jake was clearly unsure of where he stood, staying at your place.

“Your bed doesn’t happen to be a bunk bed, right?” he asked dryly, knowing that it wasn’t from the very few times he’d seen it. It got a small chuckle out of you as you thought about your options, considering a few different solutions when Jake sped the process up. “Well, sorry to bother you, Y/N. Thanks for letting me almost-crash here. I’m gonna…go bash my brains out.”

It was obvious he wasn’t fishing for anything else – he was genuinely expecting to go back to his flat of sin without another thought to finding a different solution, but you quickly took the few steps to get to him before he took off and met his questioning gaze. “Wait, Jake. Just…it’s late. Stay here, we can share the bed.”

Neighbor friends could totally innocently share a bed. Call it the proverbial cup of sugar. 

His eyes grew saucer-wide, and he jerked his head back slightly at the suggestion as if you’d just proposed he buy a leather flogger and build a dungeon. “Are you sure?”

You looked at him, completely deadpanned. The late hour was getting to you, and you just wanted to make it to bed before the sun came up again. “No, I was pulling your chain.” Jake smiled sheepishly as you continued, “Yes, dumbass, I’m sure. I offered, after all. And in the name of complete platonic-ness, either join me in bed or sleep in the street. Up to you.”

He obviously chose to follow you into your bedroom, and since both of you were already in your pjs, you slipped under the blankets as if it was the most natural thing ever. “Thank you again, Y/N,” Jake whispered, once you’d flicked the lamp off. 

“I’d say any time, Jake, but if you wake me up at this god-forbidden hour again because your brother is having sex, I’ll move.”

You heard his huff of laughter at your empty threat and you smiled, too, already starting to drift into that hazy state between sleep and consciousness. The fan and low brown noise you had playing from phone was enough to drown out the strangeness of someone else in the room with you – the extra intakes and exhales of breath, the scratch of blankets, the dip of the mattress – and you would have been totally content to fall asleep then.

If it weren’t for Jake’s incessant moving. 

The first time he shifted, it was fine – didn’t even register. But then he rolled over again. And again. And again.

“Jake,” you groaned, flopping your hand behind you without a care for where it landed. “Stop fucking moving.”

“Sorry,” he responded softly, voice a little higher than normal.

That would have been that, but then it wasn’t rolling over, but he was obviously still moving, and you could feel it. You might have had a Queen-sized mattress, but that didn’t mean you weren’t unconsciously hyper-aware of someone else in your bed when you were used to sleeping alone.

“Oh my god, Jake,” you exclaimed exasperatedly, turning your lamp on and abruptly rolling over to see just what the problem was. “What is wrong? Are you sleeping on a pea or something, princess?”

In the dim light from the wax melter candle plugged into your wall, Jake stiffened, and he didn’t answer.

Thinking your words came out too harshly, you sighed. “Sorry. I’m not mad, I’m just trying to sleep. Seriously, though, what’s wrong? Do you need to cuddle to get to dreamland or something?” you joked lightly in an attempt to clear the air.

“That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Jake’s answer was so soft, you nearly didn’t hear him. But once his words registered, you furrowed your brow, confused and a little offended that he couldn’t even crack a joke back, because now you felt a little embarrassed of your joking suggestion. “Okay. Because one of us is a ticking time bomb or something? I wasn’t being serious, Jake.”

The offense must have shown through your thinly-veiled attempt to hide it, because Jake was silent for a second, and then croaked out, “I wouldn’t want you to hate me.”

Now laying down again, facing away, your confusion outgrew your offense, and once again, you rolled over, seeing that Jake had remained stiff as a board with his back to you. “Why would I hate you?” you asked genuinely, less edge to your voice.

But Jake didn’t answer. Didn’t have to, because when he shifted again, the movement originating from his hips and obviously something Jake was trying to suppress. You finally took in the way he was scrunched up, knees pulled to his chest and arms tucked where you couldn’t see them. You recognized that position, from one past boyfriend that always seemed to get an erection at the worst possible times.

“Are you…” you let the sentence trail off, and Jake sighed out a shaky breath.

“I’m not a creep, I promise,” he said with conviction, if a little shakily. Out of nerves, arousal, or fear, you didn’t know, but you felt bad for him all the same.

Sometimes it happened – you knew that. It was basic anatomy. It was also basic anatomy to understand why the blankets started feeling a little warmer, and why you began to get the same impulse to shift your hips as Jake seemingly had. There was a very attractive man in your bed, hard and a little vulnerable because of it, that you admittedly had experienced fleeting thoughts of desire for.

“Jake,” you said softly, breaking the tense silence. “I don’t think you’re a creep. And I also don’t want you to think I’m a creep.”

Jake peeked over his shoulder at you, straining his neck to catch a glimpse. “What? Why would I? I’m the one who got in your bed and– and fucking immediately got an erection.”

“Mmmhh,” you hummed, acknowledging the truth of his statement. “But I’m the one who’s having filthy thoughts about it.” When you heard his swallow harshly, you delivered the final blow. “And I’m the one about to offer to help you take care of it. If you want, of course,” you assured lowly. “If not, you can use the bathroom and we’ll never speak of it again.”

You waited on bated breath for Jake’s response, and he finally responded, his voice breaking in the middle of the word, “Please.”

Excitement lit up your extremities, and you tingled with a newly-found energy as you rubbed your thighs together, your body’s natural response now magnified tenfold with the promise of action. “Thank you Jesus,” you breathed, waiting for Jake to turn around. “Come on, Jake. Show me what we’ve got.”

He hadn’t so much as touched his shoulder blade to the mattress when you pushed the covers off, licking your lips at the tent in his pants. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming?” Jake asked, watching you watch him with a predatory gleam in your eye. “Because I’m pretty sure this has happened before, but I woke up with a mess to clean in the end. It wasn’t fun.”

You chuckled and gently put your hand to his cheek. “I dunno. Does this feel real to you?” You planted your hands on his chest and swung your leg over his hip. Once you settled your weight over his cock, a broken noise escaped his lips, and his hands came up to rest shakily on your thighs, flexing up into the friction. “Feels pretty real to me.”

“Pretty damn real,” he repeated, gulping down air and squeezing his eyes shut.

Shifting your hips so as not to torture the poor man, you watched him accept your gifts, and eventually his face relaxed as he let you work. “Good. I have to ask, though: what got you so worked up in the first place?”

Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to peel your shirt off, not when you wanted an answer. But the unwavering attention that Jake payed the slight sway of your breasts, moving with the little shifts of your body, was a suitable second prize. You upped the stakes again, though, splaying your hands out under his shirt and working it off, as well. The growing wetness between your legs was already beginning to demand more, and you didn’t intend to keep either of you waiting for long.

So instead of insisting on an answer, you got off and relished in the small whine that came from the man who blinked sluggishly at the loss of your weight and heat against him. But when you unceremoniously stripped your pants off and then smacked his hands away from his own drawstrings, you said, “No. My house, my rules, Jake. And the rule here is that I get to unwrap all the gifts you’ve brought me tonight. Such a good guest,” you cooed, dragging his plaid pants down until his cock sprung back up, bobbing with a shiny tip that was begging to be sucked.

Not one to keep yourself from what you wanted, you bent down and thumbed across the skin of his hip at the taste of salty precum, spreading across your tongue as you swiped and swirled it around his head, pulling off with a pop as soon as he gasped and bucked his hips up. “Please don’t stop,” he asked, so polite even worked up as he was.

“But you never answered my question,” you laughed with a shake of your head, mounting him again and spreading your cunt so that you could rub your clit along the length of his cock for your own relief. He moaned quietly and took what you gave him, no attempts to change the pace, the pressure, the movement – nothing. “You’ve been so good for me otherwise, Jakey. Answer me, and then I’ll get you all suited up so that I can fuck you. Get you the good relief you deserve.” He struggled to keep his volume down, but you saw the way his lips trembled. “What got you so worked up?”

He was apparently more desperate than he let on, though, because when he was able to find his voice, it was a weak little whimper that sent another wave of arousal through you; so much that it made your head spin with want. “The sheets,” he whined, fisting them in his palms. “They…they smell like you. And when you— you…” 

With your grinding becoming nearly too slippery to continue, you knew you had to fuck him soon before he came from this alone. “When I what?” you asked, climbing off of him to retrieve a condom.

You wiped him off for safety and then made sure the latex was securely on before you poised him at your entrance, waiting for his final answer.

Jake watched your with hooded, hazy eyes, desperation written out on his features. “I liked it when you called me princess,” he admitted quietly.

You smiled victoriously, sinking down on him until his balls were pressed against your ass in one go, and you felt him twitch inside of you. “That’s so sexy, princess,” you admitted. “Thank you for telling me.” Your eyes closed as you stretched yourself out on his cock, beginning to bounce on him. The resulting audio was almost better than the visual. You wouldn’t have pegged Jake as one to beg in bed, but he had been brushing off all the subconscious labels you’d attached to him since arriving.

“Holy shit,Y/N, oh god, your pussy is–” he cut himself off with a grunt as you slid your hands up his arms to his wrists to pin his hands to bed, watching as he immediately clutched at the pillows above where they lay, immovable with your weight resting on them. “Hold me down,” he cried out. “I– ah-h– please, please, please, fuck me harder,” he whined, shifting his hips up as you came down, the explicit sounds of skin meeting skin slapping out into the silence. 

“Yeah?” you panted, loving the way you had front-row seats to every face his features morphed into as you experimented with him – taking notes of what made him tick. “You like it when you can’t move, princess? When you can only lay there and take it?”

He nodded, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you lurched forward on your thrust down, taking him for the ride of his life. “I’ll take anything you give me, beautiful,” he breathed, straining against your hold as he got closer to finishing. “I don’t mind it a little rough.”

“Good to know.” You leaned down and let your hips slowly grind in circles as you pinched the skin where his neck met his shoulder between your lips, nipping it before saying, “Keep your hands there, and don’t make me tell you twice.”

Jake agreed willingly. “Anything.”

Your nails scraped lightly down the undersides of his arms to his chest, where you dug them in to make little crescent marks and continued your quest to make him cum harder than he ever had before. “Fuck,” you moaned on an exhale, trying to find your own g-spot with Jake’s dick. “You’re so good for me. Who knew that Jake Kiszka, rockstar extraordinaire, was such a whiny little princess in bed?” you chuckled, looking down at his red face, his shiny, open lips, his hooded eyes, looking at you like you hung the moon. Just to drive the point home, you combed your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly along his scalp until you reached the back, where you tightened your grip to make Jake shout and arch back, exposing his throat to you. “That’s it,” you cooed. “Let go for me. Give it up. Cum inside me.”

He was obviously holding himself back, and he told you why when he panted out, “What about you? I wanna– I– please, please don’t make me cum yet,” he begged, squirming underneath you but still not letting his hands dip below where you’d put them and told him to stay. “I want to feel you cum with me! I don’t want to cum yet, I don’t want to be a bad fuck– I always make them cum,” he claimed, still thrashing, trying to get way from the steady pleasure tightening his balls and making him leak, getting him harder and harder and harder. “I can make you feel so good, Y/N, just let me– let me– shit, FUCK no no no no noooo—” he moaned, long and low and pitiful. 

His pleasure manifested throughout his entire body and he lost control for a second, jerking and spasming as he filled the condom to the brim. His teeth were bared as he drew breaths in to fuel the sobs and grunts that came out, his arms moved listlessly against the sheets in a sacreligious snow angel, and you could feel his legs twisting and bucking as you continued to ride him into oblivion. 

You finally slowed once a single tear fell from his eye. Wiping it away, you sucked the pad of your thumb into your mouth, watching his chest and stomach heave with a deep-seated satisfaction running through your veins. Still buzzing with excitement and arousal, you finally leaned down to kiss him, grinning as he kissed back desperately, vying for your every touch, word, and request and pliable with the desire to please you.

“So needy, Jake – crying because I wouldn’t let you help me cum. But don’t worry, princess,” you murmured, smoothing his hair back away from his fucked-out face. “I still intend to collect my pleasure. And these perfect little Cupid’s bow lips are going to get me there.”

He kissed your fingertips as you skated them across his mouth, whispering, “Thank you,” and then pushed himself up on his forearms, moving to crawl between your thighs. And as incredible as that would be to see, you stopped him with a palm in the center of his chest, pressing him down to the mattress once again. 

You shook your head. “Ah, ah. I quite like seeing you on your back for me,” you said, licking your lips. “You’re so pretty splayed out like this.”

Jake made a strangled noise and didn’t protest even for a second. “Works just fine for me, beautiful. Come here; let me show you how grateful I am for taking such good care of me tonight.”

He tugged at your hip and you went willingly, turning around so that you could see every shift, flex, and squirm of his body as you positioned yourself over him, hovering just above his face. You hummed. “Ready for me?” His response was to pull you down against him, and your clit throbbed as soon as it got friction again, making you sigh. “That’s it, princess, show me what that mouth can do. I want to feel how thankful you are that I let you into my bed,” you said breathlessly, starting to move and ride him again, this time higher up his body, but just as good. “That I was so understanding when you couldn’t control that cock of yours and that I used it so that you could get off.”

Even though you hadn’t established it (and you really should have), you lifted off of him when he tapped you, making sure he could breathe. But he didn’t take that time to take any deep breaths, only to say, “Don’t forget about the couch,” before licking into you again.

You smiled at his reminder, and reached back to grip his hair again. His whine traveled  throughout your pussy and made him sucking on your clit just that more enjoyable afterwards, sensitive from the vibration. He was quickly torn away from you as you bore down with more pressure, feeling your clit brush his bottom lip and then his tongue as he stuck it out for you to use for your pleasure. “You’re right. We can figure out a proper consequence later, though. You were begging to make me cum; I don’t think I should reward you for breaking my shit.”

With him manipulating that particular muscle, you quickly approached the peak you’d caught sight of while riding his dick, and you didn’t stop this time. You did, however, reach down to take his sensitive cock in your hand, roughly pumping it up and down until he cried out into your cunt, just to see him twist in overstimulated pleasure. 

“Come on, Jake, get me there, just a little bit more,” you directed, feeling your orgasm balloon inside of you. “Yes, Jake, yes, yes, yes– there you go-ooo, princess. Just what you wanted,” you keened, keeling over as you lost the strength to stay upright. You let Jake lap at you for a little while longer, shivering as he gently brought you down by avoiding your clit, but laving attention on the rest of your pussy. He cleaned you up like that, gathering all the excess slick on his tongue and swallowing it down. 

You were sure that he’d suck on you until you told him to stop, but eventually, you dismounted him, your stomach clenching as Jake made a small noise of complaint as his oral fixation was taken away. 

“Come here,” you sighed, opening your arms for him. You weren’t about to let him go to sleep without proper aftercare. It only took a small roll for Jake to plaster himself against you, legs tangling with yours, his fingers skirting across your skin as he wrapped his arms around you, and a sigh that puffed out warm against your throat as he relaxed into your embrace.

This time, when your fingers made their way to his long locks, you were gentle in petting him, softly massaging the back of his neck as your other hand rubbed comforting circles on his lower back. “I think I lied,” you said sleepily, and Jake made a questioning noise against your skin. “I think I want you to come here every time your brother has sex from now on. Okay?”

Jake placed a lazy kiss to your neck. “Is it okay if I don’t wait for Josh to sex? Who knows when the next time he gets lucky enough that someone looks down and sees him will be,” he giggled, fully aware that he was only a half-inch taller. 

You smiled, warmth spreading through your limbs. “Mmmm. Yeah, princess. You come over whenever you want to. I’ll keep the bed warm.” With one last kiss to his brow, you closed your eyes. 

Thank goodness for your shitty college couch.

~~~

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#12 days of tropemas 2022 #tropemas 2022 #gvf fics #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Double Trouble

On the twelfth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A Danny x Reader x Josh Tropemas ending!

Christmas Song Pairing: “I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm" by Dean Martin

Trope: Cuddle For Warmth

~~~

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader x Josh Kiszka

Warnings: Language, smut, threesome, Josh x Danny content

Words: 4.8k

Author's Note: Well, we stuck to the schedule much better than we did last year, so I count it a win. I feel like I cheated Danny gals out of a solo fic, so I have a second version of cuddle for warmth that I might one day release, who knows. There also might be a little treat for any of my other Sam/Danny pairing lovers out there -- stay tuned.

Most of all, I know there has been a few Josh x Danny x Reader fics written recently, and you should all definitely go check out @streamingcolors-gvf and @tripthelightfandomtastic because they both have some things. I swear this was one of the first fics I wrote for Tropemas and am not in any way trying to ride the waves of their glory (I would drown, their content is too good and almost intimidated me out of posting this but 🤷‍♀️) so I hope you all enjoy the last (official) Tropemas fic!

Cheers to another successful year of Tropemas! 🥂

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

“I told you guys this motel was sketchy as fuck,” you said into total darkness, the already-spotty lamp having shorted out and left you with nothing but the howl of the wind outside that was whistling in from some crack in the window. Not that the boys had really any say in where you’d had to pull off for the night. It was more just to share your misery, since it loves company and all that.

But that wind — you could feel it in your bones. The old heating unit underneath the shitty caulking job stood no chance at combating the chill of the room, and the fact that the sheets on this pull-out couch bed were threadbare and withheld no fucking body heat at all had you shivering in your pajamas. If there were ever a time you wished you’d listened to your friends when they told you that nice, fluffy, matching PJ sets were the best, it was now. But you ran hot when you slept – not that it mattered when it was -15 degrees outside and a balmy 5 inside.

“I wonder if Jake and Sam have it any better,” Josh said softly from the bed. When flipping coins, you’d unfortunately come up with tails, meaning that the master suite would not be yours for the night when you were forced to pull the van into a horror-movie motel to avoid killing all five of you on black ice. You were so close to the cabin the boys had booked, too – so close – but the ice storm had rolled in just as the sun went down, and you, along with several other drivers, apparently, had to make due with the rooms available at Cockroach Central. 

Jake and Sam in the single Queen, and you, Josh, and Danny in this crappy ‘Queen sized with a pull out couch’ icebox.

“I doubt it,” Danny sighed, voice deep with interrupted sleep.

You weren’t surprised that he’d found the ability to sleep, even with the ice hitting the windowpane and your breath crystallizing in the air; he always had that ability, Danny. But as another gust of icy wind shook the windows, and you felt the subsequent cool air permeate your already-cold cocoon, you let out a barely audible whimper-groan.

You didn’t think it was loud enough for the boys to hear, but apparently you were underestimating how small the room was. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

The next noise that came out of your mouth was frustrated, and it wasn’t directed at Josh for asking, but you’d taken the last shift driving and you were exhausted, except now it didn’t seem as if you’d be getting any sleep at all. “I’m freezing,” you admitted, and you heard immediate shuffling from the bed.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Danny asked from above. “Come over here and get warm, dummy.”

But you hesitated. You knew that the boys would give you the shirt off their back if you asked for it, but you didn’t want them to sacrifice their own comfort and sleep for you – it was one night, after all, and they had been cooped up in the van just as long as you had. “I mean…is there even room up there?” you asked, still sorely tempted to join them, despite your pause. “I don’t want to kick you guys out of bed.”

“We’ll make it work,” came Josh’s voice next. “We grew up shoving as many people in a bed as we could, Y/N, come on.”

And, well, twist your arm. You pushed your thin blankets off and scurried over to the bigger bed, which had a mattress that retained heat and two other bodies to contribute to the task of keeping you warm. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned blissfully, teeth still chattering as you settled into the space between them that they made, citing ‘maximum warmth’ when you’d told them you’d be fine taking the edge. “If I’d known you guys were living space heaters, we’d have been sharing a bed from the start.” 

Josh’s hand crept over your hip from where he’d instantly wound himself around you under the blankets. The cuddling wasn’t new — Josh was a tactile person on his worst days, and a cuddle buddy was a cuddle buddy. But the way he was vigorously rubbing his hand up and down your body was ruffling your sleep shirt, Danny, on just the other side of you, was going to be pressed against exposed skin if he didn’t stop soon.  “Shit, Y/N– even your pajamas are cold.”

“I know,” you sighed, smacking your lips together in contentment. If you’d been a cat, it would’ve been a purr as you began to feel your feet again. “I’ve been shivering in them since we got here.”

Not to be left out, Danny crossed one big hand over Josh’s arm to feel for himself, and your breath stuttered a bit. It wasn’t as if you were immune to their talent and good spirits, and you had eyes — you knew your friends were an attractive bunch. But you never let your fantasies run too amuck; you were an avid sleep talker, and you’d never recover if something slipped out while your dreams took you places you dared not think about during the day.

Places like here, plastered against both Josh and Danny while they warmed you up. Perhaps not in the way you wanted in your limited fantasies, but you were nevertheless in bed with them, their hands all over your body. You hummed at the contact, shifting your shoulders to shake some of the energy they brought with their touch off.

“Why’d you wait so long to tell us you were cold?” Danny asked, lips so close to your ear he barely had to murmur for you to hear. That distance was soon made even scarcer, as Danny tugged Josh closer on your other side so that you were all three a mess of tangled limbs, cuddling to keep every ounce of warmth between you.

You shrugged with the space you did have, and tried to turn on your side towards Danny, your ass already becoming numb. You were a side sleeper, anyways, so you’d end up in that position regardless. The two men adjusted with you, Josh pushing forward to melt against your back while Danny pushed back and let you get comfortable before assuming his position again, nearly brushing your nose with his. 

At this point, you were glad the lights had shorted out, because at least there was a chance Danny didn’t notice either your blush or your surprise that he’d rebounded back in so close. You had no choice but to ball up your hands and let them rest against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths from the front, and Josh’s from your back. 

“Um…I told you. I didn’t know if there would be enough space.”

Josh chuckled against the back of your neck, making you shiver – but this time, not from the cold. “Well, here’s your proof. There’s always room for you, Y/N.”

“Good to know,” you squeaked, growing embarrassed at how much just the simple pressure of their bodies against yours was making you wet. You knew you couldn’t blame yourself – it’d been a few days since you were alone enough to get yourself off, and this was the first time you’d been in an actual bed since you’d left for this spontaneous cabin getaway with the boys. And when you were in a bed, your body demanded orgasms; it was something of a Pavlovian response at this point.

Now you’d be tired and horny in the morning, but at least you wouldn’t be cold. Although you were beginning to question which was worse.

Danny’s lips quirked up, and you squeezed your eyes shut. He’d most certainly heard the change in pitch of your voice, and you felt a chuckle rumble shake his chest and escape as a breath through his nose. “That was cute,” he breathed. “Is there something the matter?”

Josh’s hips shifted back, and his lips were at your ear, next. “He’s right. I can feel your heartbeat from your back, Y/N. What’s going on?” His words had turned sultry in a matter of seconds, and your face burned, feeling a little foolish for thinking that they wouldn’t be able to feel what they were doing to you in their proximity. 

Although, the response other than a serious ribbing from the both of them was unexpected. You’d have expected them to make fun of you, not do…whatever this was. Unless this was their way of teasing you (not in the good way). “Fuck you guys,” you mumbled. It was a cruel joke either way, and you were beginning to wish that you’d just layered up and stayed in that stupid pull-out bed.

Danny caught your chin with the knuckle of his pointer finger, and tipped your face up to his. “Oh yeah? Is that what you want?”

Every function screeched to a halt, and you couldn’t find the words to answer. 

They were serious? This wasn’t a joke? They wanted to fuck you – together, in the same bed – just because they’d felt your heartrate pick up a bit and your breathing become uneven?

Josh rolled his hips into you again, and you were suddenly made aware that he was hard in his flannel pants. Hard and warm against your ass, in such a good way that you couldn’t help but press back into him. You were rewarded with a small groan and the feeling of his fingers tightening on your hips. “Shit, Y/N. Don’t do that unless you’re gonna answer Danny.”

“I…yes?”

“Yes? Like, a question? Or, ‘yes,’ for sure?”

The situation was evolving very quickly, but you must have been hornier than you imagined you’d be, because it was difficult to find reasons to decline their generous offer. “For sure,” you said, tucking your lip between your teeth as you waited on baited breath to find out what that answer would bring.

Like racehorses let out of the gate, the response was whip-quick, and you gasped as that lip you’d held captive was dragged from its place by Danny’s mouth, and Josh groaned, “Oh thank god,” before tugging your hips back into his erection. “You’ve got us wrapped around your finger, Y/N, you had to have known what your little noises would do to us.”

“Little noises?” you gasped out, hand reaching up to tangle in Danny’s wild curls as he began to nip across your jaw. “You mean…normal ones?”

Danny pulled back, and his absence was missed, but the sight of him shucking his shirt off was a welcome one. “Caught,” he said with a smirk. “It’s just you. You drive us crazy, no matter what you do or where you do it.”

The sentiment was cheesy at best, but you chose to disregard that fact in favor of letting Josh drag your own shirt off your body, too. “Yes, yes,” he said impatiently, fingers crawling over your bare skin, stopped only by the sports bra you wore, “we’ve been thirsting over you, sweet thing. I’ve thought about this beautiful body of yours so many times. In the still of the night,” he whispered, slipping under the flimsy material covering your breasts, “when I can’t help myself. Like right now.” 

You let a small noise slip out as he softly rubbed his thumb over your nipple. It wasn’t enough for them, though, and Danny quickly nudged Josh’s hand. “Let us see you. Josh wasn’t the only one thinking dirty, filthy thoughts when it came to you,” Danny said, laid back down so that the blankets were once again keeping the rising heat in.

Your sports bra came off, and you wriggled out of your pants, as well, knowing that they would be one of the next items on the list, and then you were naked. Naked, and Danny was naked, too, and when you settled back in, you realized that Josh’s cock was now hard and hot and leaking against your ass, meaning that he rounded the company out, and it was officially a threesome.

Josh backed up, though, so that Danny could put you on your back and trail kisses down your throat until he reached your breasts. You mewled when he took your nipple into his mouth, and it seemed that broke Josh, as he put a hand on the base of his dick and squeezed. Your noises must have actually done it for him. “Mmmm, Danny,” you sighed, foot sliding up the mattress in pleasure. Danny shifted so that he was straddling your thigh, and he ground down once, his cock twitching against your skin.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured against your skin. “Are you soft everywhere, I wonder?”

His words were the only warning you got before his fingers slipped between your lips and spread your wetness across your pussy. “Oh, yeah,” he groaned. “Soft and so fucking wet. Josh, feel how wet our girl is.”

Josh didn’t need any more prompting, and he joined Danny between your thighs, his fingers side-by-side with Danny’s thicker, coarser ones. Your whimper and squirms were met with an intensified touch – Josh took the plunge and dipped a singular digit into your entrance, and you felt as though you’d combust if things didn’t progress soon. 

“Soft and wet,” Josh agreed, his finger pressing forward and pulling back gently. “Finally get to feel you, Y/N. How do you like to play, sweet thing?”

Danny hummed, still mouthing over your stomach. “Did you like it when we played with your pretty little tits? Or do you like Josh’s finger inside you better?”

You were becoming frustrated with their sudden slow-down after taking advantage of the whole bed situation so quickly. “I like them both– I just need more,” you whined, your pussy clenching around Josh’s finger as you tried to fuck yourself faster. “Come on, guys, I know you can do better.” You switched tactics on them, goading instead of whining, and Danny chuckled against your skin.

“More?” he asked, looking at Josh. “What do you think, Josh– wanna fill her up a bit? Add a couple of fingers?”

Josh answered in action, fitting a second finger in beside the first and upping the speed, angling his fingertips to run along your walls until he found that sweet spot inside of you. You gasped and bucked your hips, but Danny held you down gently.

“Shit– right there, Josh!” you affirmed, stilling so that he could focus on that spot.

The lights suddenly flickered back on, and everything paused as you took in the now lit-up scene with blown-pupil eyes. You all three blinked at each other, drinking in the finer details. Finally, Danny’s lips quirked up in a smirk and he pressed a kiss to your hip while Josh continued fingering you.

Josh’s next words weren’t directed at you; he’d heard you, and he wasn’t budging on his positioning, but instead, he met Danny’s eyes and smiled, which you barely caught with your eyes fluttering shut as they were. “Better, she says,” he scoffed, gently mocking your nettling. “If there’s anything I’ve learned about better, it’s that fingers are always better with a mouth. Daniel, care to assist since you’re already down there?”

“More than happy to,” Danny said with a shark-like grin, and your lips trembled with a moan as you watched him converge with Josh’s fingers, then felt his tongue envelope your clit, rolling pressure and darting around in circles like a pro.

This man knew what he was fucking doing.

“Hot fuck, you guys,” you keened, their combined efforts quickly uncovering your growing orgasm. “Have you– ahh– you done this before?” you asked shakily, vacillating between closing your eyes to take in the sensations and watching them both work between your legs.

Josh and Danny shared an amused glance, and you realized that the question wasn’t as pointed as you meant it to be – you’d be the first to claim that you weren’t in the state of mind to care, but you also found it in you to roll your eyes when Josh said, “Yeah, a couple of times,” for the both of them, since Danny’s mouth was occupied, his lips suctioned around you.

“I meant together.”

Josh chuckled and then pinched his pinky and thumb together so that he could bind his middle three and slowly delve them into you underneath where Danny was. “No. But we did talk about it when we got drunk together once. Only once,” he assured quickly, “we didn’t, like, plan this all out beforehand. The opportunity presented itself, though, and you seemed into it…”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Seemed?”

“Touché,” he said, three knuckles deep into your wet core and building a steady rhythm that pushed you higher and higher.

Danny’s contributions were exacerbated when he grasped the undersides of your thighs and pressed his face into you as hard as he could while still trying to avoid taking away Josh’s ability to finger you. 

“Ah– ah,” you croaked, back arching as the coil grew tighter. “Guys, I’m gonna– fuck me, I’m right there; I’m gonna cum, just keep going!”

“No need to tell us twice, sweet thing,” Josh cooed. “Come on, now, let go. You can cum pretty all over my fingers, all over Danny’s mouth. Show us how you do it. God, you look so beautiful,” he babbled, fingers working faster inside of you as you cried out once more and fell off the edge of the cliff.

You fisted the sheets with one hand, and with the other, you pushed Danny’s head away, spasming with overstimulation as he kept sucking you up even as you came down. “Danny– that’s a lot,” you gasped, hips twitching from the force of the orgasm. 

He listened, and pulled away just as Josh withdrew his soaked fingers, rubbing them together and then spreading them apart, where they webbed with your release. As Josh brought them towards his face, Danny caught him by the wrist and beat him to the punchline, his lips – still glistening with your cum as well – wrapping around Josh’s digits and sucking them clean.

A shock of arousal shot through you at the sight, and you were liable to fall apart and never be put back together again when Danny popped the fingers out of his mouth and was immediately pulled into a searching kiss afterwards. Josh’s hands remained firm, one on the side of Danny’s neck, and the other tangling with Danny’s at his side. He was smirking when he pulled away, and the side-eye he sent your way told you that he was aware of what he was doing to you, how he was playing you.

Like a damn fiddle.

“You taste like an angel,” Danny remarked, turning his attention back to you. “Doesn’t even matter where I get you from.”

“Come here,” you huffed, guiding him into another kiss, this time pushing your tongue into his mouth, as if you could taste the remnants of all three of you together. You could feel the tip of his cock catching your tummy every so often, though, in the hovering position he was in, and the desire you had to be dicked down by these men returned in full force. “Fuck me, Danny,” you breathed against his lips. “I want you inside me. Please.”

“Shit,” he cursed gently, lowering himself so that he was covering every inch of you from head to toe. You were totally encompassed in him, so you wrapped your legs around his waist to lock him in. 

Josh looked on, slowly stroking his own cock to find relief. “Go on, Dan,” he encouraged. “Give it to her like she’s asking.”

“Begging,” Danny corrected, running his thick head through the result of their sloppy-wet work. “I’ll fuck you so good,” he promised, lining up with your entrance. “Get you to cum again for us so that I can see this time. I can’t just miss out on feeling you clench around some part of me.”

You popped your hips up, trying to get him to slide into you (it would have been easy enough with how wet you were from your last orgasm). “I’ll cum for you,” you keened impatiently, “but I need you to actually fuck me first.”

Josh snorted. “Still a little spitfire even with a dick in you, aren’t you?”

You were about to retort that there wasn’t a dick in you yet, when Danny finally pushed past the initial resistance that served as a reminder that you really hadn’t taken much more than your fingers and a small vibrator recently. He was substantially bigger than yours or Josh’s fingers, even three of them.

“Yeah,” he hissed, throwing his head back as he eased in. “Open up for me, angel; let me in that pretty, pink heaven.”

Josh laid down beside you, plastered to the length of your body as you wrapped your legs around Danny’s waist and encouraged him to start moving. The hand that wasn’t still stroking himself snaked up your body to pinch and play with your nipples as your breasts jiggled in time with each new punch of Danny’s hips to yours. 

You could smell Josh, so close to you, even beyond the scent of sex that was slowly permeating the air around you. “Danny fucks like a god,” you whimpered to no one in particular, barely holding onto your sanity as you were filled to the brim time and time again.

Danny’s grip on your hips tightened at your praise, and your attention was yanked back to the man currently rearranging your guts in the middle of the night in a crappy motel while one of his best friends waited his turn. “Say it to my face.”

You met his heavy-lidded gaze, and reached up to him. He leaned into your palm, and you smiled at him. “You are crazy good at lighting me up, Daniel Wagner.”

“Warm her up, make her burn, ” Josh murmured, leaning over to replace his fingers with his tongue.

With the warm, wet swirl around your nipples and Danny’s hand making its way to press down on your lower stomach, changing up the angle that he hit inside you, you were more than close to your second orgasm. “Feel that, Y/N?” Danny huffed, slowing to grab your hand and push it to where he’d been a moment earlier. “Feel how fucking deep I am?” 

Maybe it was because you wanted to feel him, or perhaps you weren’t imaging it at all, but you could have sworn that each time Danny’s hips smacked into yours and he sheathed himself balls-deep, you felt him nudge the heel of your hand where it impressed into your stomach. Regardless of whether you could with that hand, though, you could certainly feel him in other ways, so you whined and nodded, focused on the sensations.

“God, you take me so well, Angel. Wanna live here,” he whimpered, hips stuttering as he joined you on the precipice.

“In a shitty motel?” Josh joked, re-inserting himself into the situation. “Or so far up Y/N’s cunt she’s gonna have a hard time thinking about anything else for the rest of the trip?” 

Danny panted, hot and loud, and grunted as he embodied his livelihood: rhythm, reliability, and consistency in each slide into you bringing you both closer and closer to the edge. “The second one.”

Josh nodded, slipping his fingers down to circle your clit, obviously reaching the end of his patience and no longer willing to wait his turn . “That’s what I thought. Can’t blame either of you, really,” he sighed, pushing himself up on one arm to kiss whatever breath Danny had left in his lungs away.

Even then, Danny didn’t falter, and his steady thrusts soon paid off. You both gave into the pressure, and Danny yipped out his orgasm against Josh’s lips, topping it off with a deep groan as he emptied himself into you, shallowly pumping himself through it before he collapsed onto his forearms, lips brushing yours as he caught his breath.

“Are you ready to take Josh?” he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth before you could answer.

“Before that, actually,” Josh interjected, moving in closer and encasing you in their body heat again now that the chill was creeping back in and cooling your sweat quickly, “I’m gonna need you to move off our sweet Y/N, here. There’s something else I’d like to do before I get to follow in Big Dick Dan’s footsteps.”

His hand was running up and down Danny’s bare back, and you felt the rumble of laughter rise from Danny’s chest, so there was no surprise when a laugh that was a little too loud escaped his face, now crinkled up in joy. “I swear they don’t call me that. I’ve never heard that nickname in my life,” he giggled, and Josh pursed his lips exaggeratedly from beside you.

“Not to your face, maybe.”

Danny did as Josh asked, though, and gingerly pulled himself out of you, sighing as he finally rested his entire weight on the bed at your side. Josh quickly took his place, eyes roving over your lower half and then meeting yours once he apparently found what he was looking for.

Making his way down your body, he wet his lips. “Let’s see if you still taste as Danny has so lovingly named you, Angel,” Josh said, lowering himself to fit in between your thighs. He wasted no time in spreading you apart and lapping you up with the flat of his tongue, catching the slow drip of Danny’s cum as it leaked out of you.

The gasp that flew out of your mouth sounded offended, almost, and Danny’s fingertips dug into the skin of your arm, where he’d been caressing a few seconds earlier. 

“Fuuuuck,” Danny rumbled, low and long. “How’s his mouth feel, Angel? Is it as good as it always looks onstage?”

You moaned with your lips sealed shut, pushing your hips into Josh’s mouth. “Better,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed. You stayed like that, with Danny reaching up to stroke your nipples and kiss your neck while Josh ate you out enthusiastically, slurping and sucking until he had his fill and came up for breath.

He looked slightly crazed, pawing desperately at your thighs while he rocked his hips, cock catching the sheets in a way that must have been driving him insane.

“Come on, Josh,” Danny cooed, pulling your leg over so that you were laying on your side, spread for Josh since Danny hooked you in his elbow. “You’ve gotta be so hard. Give it to her. She’s got another one in her, right, Y/N?”

You bit down into Danny’s shoulder as you nodded, then met Josh’s gaze. “Come on, Josh, come and take me higher. Get us in the fast lane.”

Josh positioned himself behind you, cuddling as you had been at the beginning of the night, but now you were much warmer, and much more fatigued. As he shakily guided himself to your entrance, slicking up the tip of his dick with what he’d left behind, he pushed in slowly and said, “You have us for the entire night, angel, no need to rush.”

“Yeah,” Danny hummed against your open lips, spread in the ecstasy of being stretched once more, “no need to rush at all. We need to keep you warm all night.”

…

Jake and Sam were already waiting for you in the lobby when Josh and Danny had managed to drag themselves out of bed. Considering they hadn’t been the ones fucked half to death until the sky began to lighten, you were unsympathetic to their whines about being tired, and were quite proud that you managed to walk all by yourself without the assistance of a wheelchair.

Sam caught sight of you first and waved you over, looking restless and jumpy and ready to leave. “This motel sucks. The coffee is cold and I’m pretty sure from last year, so I’d skip it,” he huffed.

Sam wasn’t a huge coffee drinker, so the fact that he’d been desperate enough to try coffee from the ancient-looking carafe was a surefire sign that he hadn’t slept well either.

For entirely different reasons than you, Danny, and Josh, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You seem a little grumpy,” you smirked. You saw recognition on his face and turned to see Danny and Josh finally stepping out of the stairwell, since the elevators didn’t work. 

“Yeah, because I couldn’t fucking sleep when it was in the negative inside the room. Were you guys freezing last night like Jake and I were?”

You doubted the others would need much convincing to stop for breakfast and coffee, so you just shrugged your bag over your shoulder, shook your head innocently, and smiled. “Nope,” you said lightly. “I was toasty all night long.”

~~~

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#12 days of tropemas 2022 #tropemas 2022 #danny wagner x reader #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x danny wagner x reader #gvf smut #danny wagner smut #josh kiszka smut #danny wagner fanfiction #josh kiszka fanfiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fleet fics

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Rendezvous

On the eighth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A friends to lovers Danny smut where Sam hogs all the garlic bread!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Merry Christmas Baby" by Otis Redding

Trope: Friends to Lovers

~~~

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, biting, Danny being unrealistically strong

Words: 4.4k

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

You were used to clingy, cuddly, drunk Danny.

But this?

This was not that.

You refused to categorize yourself into the “I fell in love with my unattainable friend” class, because this was the first time (a lie) that you'd ever thought about him in this way, as more that just buds who texted memes to each other and occasionally went out for a drink with the group. You had no problem (another lie) drawing the line at which your feelings stopped. Toe firmly in-line with ‘platonic besties’ and nothing more (which disappointed you).

But here he was, standing with an arm draped around your shoulder, sipping on his first drink - so he obviously wasn't drunk - and chuckling at Sam’s karaoke skills while your head was spinning with questions of ‘why is he acting like this’ and ‘why am I feeling something because of it.’

Danny had showed up at Sam’s Christmas party an hour late, bringing more beer and a couple loaves of the deli garlic bread that Sam had immediately squirreled away for himself instead of putting out with all the other pitch-ins. After he’d made his rounds with the rest of his friends, he’d stuck himself to your side with a long hug and those soft-set doe eyes crinkled up in an easy smile.

That was nearing two hours ago, now. Once your drink had been finished and Danny realized he’d never gotten one in the first place, he surprised you by hooking his pinky with yours and leading you over to the drink table to rectify that. And now, you were both giggling and your palm was ending up on his chest far more frequently than usual and his grip on you tightened every time he thought you might pull away and– and–

This kind of attention wasn’t usually in the playbook, and you were a little blindsided by the sudden change in both of your characters but were unable to stop bouncing off him – flirting back when he dropped his tone, laughing at jokes that weren’t as funny as your laugh painted them to be, and settling into his side as if you belonged there. 

That’s why you had to do something. When Danny’s thumb slowly brushed over your shoulder and you got goosebumps even through your sweater, you finally slipped away from under his arm while he was distracted. Much to your surprise, he took a swipe at you within seconds of realizing that you’d taken the plunge and he didn’t have an armrest anymore, which you dodged away from. But that didn’t stop him from closing the distance again, trying to get you tucked back into him. “Hey!” he pouted, exaggerating a frown. “Get back here…I was comfortable!” 

His whiny voice produced a disgraceful snort out of you, and you danced further away from his grabby hands, mixing in with the small crowd of drunk partiers cheering on Sam whilst also attempting to force Jake and Jita up on the stage for a duet next.

Everyone was too focused on “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” to pay you and Danny too much attention. Besides, you were trying not to be disruptive, so you kept your giggles (growing more maniacal by the second as adrenaline shot through your veins at Danny’s pursuit) down and led the chase away from everyone else, making it halfway up the stairs before you felt a tug on your shirt.

You’d been caught.

Danny grinned, chuckling as he caught his breath with you, neither of you at the peak of athletic performance in your lives. “Gotcha,” he said smugly, enveloping your wrist in his hand before turning and making to go back to the party.

“Wait,” you said suddenly, resisting his tug. Now that you were in a less crowded space, you weren’t quite so prudent with your words, curiosity coming out in full force. “Let’s stay here a second.”

He stopped and turned, cocking his head as you both stood on a step: you a couple up to be eye-level with him. “Why?” he asked in a stage whisper, obviously still thinking that this was some kind of joke. “The party is out there, and Sam is about to butcher that song, I just know it.”

On cue, Sam’s warble reached where you were hidden away, and Danny laughed, looking back in the direction of the party. “Danny.” 

Danny dragged his attention back toward you, and raised his brows expectantly. “Yes?”

“What’s going on?” You pressed forth, thinking that if you were this far in, you might as well put both feet in the stirrups, because you were already galloping down the road to conclusions faster than you could think to backtrack. “Have you been acting weird on purpose?”

Danny furrowed his brow, his face the epitome of innocent confusion. “Acting weird?” 

Too innocent for one Daniel Wagner.

“Mmmhh.” Somehow you’d drifted closer to the man, and he was leaning in as well, like a sailor to a siren. “You’ve been a very clingy boy tonight.” Straight to the target and bullseye.

You watched as Danny’s mouth dropped open slightly, lips loose and just barely catching the light from the living room and–

And you most definitely were not supposed to pay that close attention to Danny’s lips.

Expecting him to deny it, or perhaps get flustered at the accusation of sorts, the tables turned abruptly on you when he tilted his head once more, keeping his steady gaze trained on your inquisitive features. “Does that bother you?”

You snapped your eyes to his, trying to gauge what kind of response he was looking for. His expression was one of complete curiosity, a small twinkle in his eye that made your heart flutter, even in its current hammering state. “I– I mean…it’s different. I don’t understand it.”

“But does it bother you?” he repeated. Danny didn’t seem all too concerned about getting back to the party, now. Not in the way he was eyeing your mouth, not in the way he took a step up, which forced you to take a step back to maintain proper proximity (for purposes relating to spontaneous combustion) as well, and certainly not in the way he seemed to be toying with you.

“No,” you denied, finding steady footing walking up the stairs backwards as he claimed another step as his own. “I’m just asking.”

Asking. Imploring. Perhaps inviting, with the way you hinted neither at being bothered you were slowly getting closer to the bedrooms nor that you were trying to put an end to the clinginess.

“Well then,” he said with his lopsided smile, picking up the pace for the last small flight before the landing, “do we really need to understand at all, then?”

You gulped, his words igniting a fight or flight response when paired with this predatory prowl up the stairs and away from the cacophony of voices. Except it wasn’t necessarily fight or flight; you knew these feelings turning your tummy upside down and backwards – this was, for all intents and purposes, fuck or flight. Your heel hit the final step onto the landing and caused you to stumble, but not fall; regardless, Danny propelled himself up, ready to catch you. But once you were steady again, you found that he was still looking at you rather playfully, as if your discomposed state amused him to no end.

Danny chuckled, and you tittered with him, a bit in disbelief that this was happening, pace fast but natural. Still using his body to corral you towards the guest bedroom, you couldn’t help but notice the clench between your legs, and dammit it all you were not supposed to find Danny’s physical imposition that hot. Your back hit the door, and Danny followed you in until he had you crowded between the frame, taking a moment to pause before the door opened and all bets were off.

By this time, the speed of your pulse was making you lightheaded, but that also could have been contributed to Danny’s chest brushing yours in nearness, or his soft puffs of breath on the bridge of your nose, or the back of his fingers that caressed your cheek and made you painfully aware of how sensitive every inch of your skin was when it came to Danny. 

“Danny,” you breathed, trembling slightly as your brain tried to keep up with the signals it wanted to send: happy, confused, horny, nervous, petrified – all of it.

His body caged you in against the door, one hand resting on the door knob and the other planted by your head. “Tell me now if you’re okay with this,” he murmured in your ear, the voices from downstairs faint enough it was just garbled background noise. “I just want to hear you say you want me.”

His words sent you spiraling into thinking things you didn’t know you could – not about your best buddy Danny, at least – and with a shaky hand, you pressed your palm to his chest, only to find his heart beating as wildly as yours. 

“I want you,” you said, biting your lip between sentences. “How do you want me?”

Danny groaned, twisting the doorknob harshly, and let you stagger back into the spare room before closing and locking the door. He caught your hand before you could get far, and you found yourself pinned against the door again, this time from the other side and with Danny’s hard erection pressing insistently against your thigh. “Right here, Y/N,” Danny said, stripping his shirt off and fumbling to undo the buttons on yours. “I want you right here with those pretty legs wrapped around my waist and my name in your mouth.”

“You know, I think I’d rather have your tongue first,” you said, not giving him time to respond before you gathered his face in your hands and guided his lips to yours in an intense kiss, skipping past soft and shy and running your tongue along the seam of Danny’s mouth, inviting him out to play. 

It was sufficient enough to distract him from undressing you, and your pants were at your knees when he grabbed your waist instead, using it to pull you even further into his body while he took over the kiss and tilted your neck up at a sharp angle. You gasped when his fingers grazed your throat, and he paused, fingertips lightly pressing into the sides, holding you still as he gave you exactly what you wanted.

But it wasn’t enough; his work left unfinished was realized, and soon you felt exactly what your friend was packing, velvety against the sensitive skin of your bare inner thigh. “Shit, Danny,” you chuckled as best you could with Danny’s lips gliding and caressing your throat as if it were a precious thing worth being worshiped.

Which, to him, perhaps it was.

He hummed, still distracted now that he was discovering your body inch by downward inch. Your collarbones and then lower to your breasts, he let his warm breath fan over the damp skin he left in his wake. "What?" he asked, rather too smugly for your peace of mind.

"Nothing, actually," you huffed, rolling your eyes at his tone, "forget I said anything."

Danny laughed against your breasts, leaving them each with a wet kiss and swirl of his tongue as he kissed down your stomach and said, "Don't be like that, baby."

You blood ran hotter at the nickname so, instead of letting him reach his destination, you yanked him up with your fingers buried into the roots of his hair, hoping that it hurt a little bit.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed, hips twitching into you as you felt him jump. “You just– you had to do that, huh?”

His voice dropped to a guttural growl, and you watched as he fished a condom out of his wallet from the floor. “You liked it,” you rebutted, raising your knee up to his hip once he’d rolled the latex on his cock, thick and long and slightly intimidating. 

Danny apparently wasn’t satisfied with the position, though, and he tapped your ass, gripping it in both hands and tugging you up. “Not liking it wasn’t the problem,” he chuckled in your ear, and you didn’t think you’d ever want him to speak to you again unless he was this close and you could feel the rumble of his words in his chest. “Now get up here. I said I wanted both your legs wrapped around me.”

“Sure you can hold me?” You ran your hand over the muscle of his shoulder, and your mouth began to water. Before he had you cock-drunk and bouncing on his dick, you leaned in and flattened your tongue against the skin, dragging it up to the meat of his shoulder before sinking your teeth in and creating enough suction to give him a big hickey in an unexpected place. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” you admitted once you pulled off, and Danny stared at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips when you met his eyes.

“My shoulders are yours to suck on, then,” he said, an undertone of humor lacing through the words. “But right now, I want you to suck me in, so get up here already. I promise I can hold you.”

Even hesitant as you were, you jumped up as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass, then put his hips underneath you for more support. You’d never been fully taken against a wall before; but you were quickly coming to realize that Danny was going to set a standard not many others were going to be able to uphold.

And he’d barely even touched you yet.

“Alright, Y/N,” he said, cocky smirk on his face reading, ‘see, told you.’ “I want you to reach down for me. Drag those little fingers across your clit and get ‘em nice and wet for me, okay?”

He didn’t have the use of his hands – not if you wanted to stay as stable as you felt – but even if he had, you’d still have done everything he asked you to, no second guess about it. “That won't be a problem,” you told him, slipping through the heat at your core and sighing at the small piece of friction you’d earned with your fingers. “You make me so wet.”

You could feel his cock against your hand when he rocked his hips forward, so close to where you wanted him that you decided you were done waiting, turned your hand around to grasp him, and then guided him to your entrance. As soon as you pushed upward with the tip and felt yourself stretch around him, embracing him into your body like a warm, welcoming hug, Danny gasped, then moaned softly as he realized what you’d done. He was unable to help the steady undulation that took him deeper and deeper into you, slowly encasing himself in the constricted warmth and wetness that you offered.

“Oh fuck, babygirl,” he breathed, leaning forward to bump his forehead into yours once he was seated all the way in. “So impatient to get me inside of you– you really want me to fuck you that bad?”

You nodded. “Please, Danny, I need more.” 

And you did. Having him fill you up was so good, but now you were clenching around his thick cock without the ability to do much more than grind on him. It was torture. 

He kissed you shortly, readjusting his grip before snapping even deeper into you and making your breath stutter. “I’ll fuck you nice and good, Y/N. But first I need you to bring your fingers up here,” he requested, and you furrowed your brow. “You’ve interrupted me two times tonight – I’m gonna taste that sweet little pussy one way or another. Now bring ‘em up, let me taste you.”

After letting out a breathy curse, you dipped them to where he was sheathed inside of you and collected some of your slick once more, then brought them up between your faces. You tried not to be embarrassed that you could smell yourself, but the look in Danny’s eye told you that was what he was looking for. 

“Let me taste,” he asked you again, waiting. You brought them to his mouth and he sucked them in, his tongue playing over, across, and between your fingers, cleaning you off before letting your fingers rest between his lips. “Mmm,” he hummed around you, grinning as he watched you wither in embarrassment at his antics. "Just what I needed. I'll be back for more later."

As if that was your payment to start the ride, he pulled his hips back as far as he could while holding you up and jerked your into him when he rebounded back, finally starting to move. 

“Oh god, Danny, finally,” you whimpered against his neck, holding on for dear life as he flexed and pounded you against the door. Although he had to fix his grip multiple times after sliding from sweat and trying to find better purchase, he kept you in the air as he chased his pleasure and brought you yours. “I’ve thought about this before.”

Danny grunted, his unforgiving pace never faltering. “Yeah? “Bout me fucking you through a door?”

“Not this situation specifically, but about you fucking me, yeah.”

Danny grunted, features rapt and tightly controlled as he kept his movements together and steady. Just the look of him concentrating so hard was sexy - you wanted to know if it was different in the throes of pleasure, or better. “Tell me more later. We’ll make it all a reality,” he promised, not up for more conversation as it took his focus away.

Your hips hit the door with how hard he collided into you at times, making a very obvious, rhythmic thumping sound that you prayed couldn’t be heard downstairs. God, you were going to have the gnarliest bruises in the morning. Even if the party could hear over the music, you weren’t going to be able to find it in yourself to care right now, not when Danny’s dick was hitting spots in this position you didn’t know existed. But once you were off the ride and back into your head, you knew you’d be humiliated if it came about in conversation.

Danny surged in to kiss you sloppily, teeth and tongues and open mouths to draw in deep pants this far into sex. “What do you need, Y/N?” he strained against your lips, arms shaking from the exertion that originated at his core from burying himself into you again and again and again. “I’m almost there, what do you need?”

You reached down and felt where he was sliding inside of you, his cock brushing your fingers every time he pulled out and then desperately shoved himself back in. “I’ll get it. Just– just keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll touch myself for you,” you said against his neck, salt and sweat on your tongue. “Do you feel it?”

“Yes– I– shit.” Danny’s breath was deep and woven with grunts that came out every time he slid in, and it created a symphony of low, guttural noises that were music to your ear. It was a reminder of his rhythmic prowess, the way you felt him and heard him at the same time. Like he was presenting his supporting argument, despite the fact that you weren’t debating.

“I think I’m in love with the noises you make,” you whispered, the scent of his hair products filling your nose as you clutched him close with one arm, the other still working furiously at your clit to ride the waves of pleasure higher and higher. “Don’t hold back, Danny. I’m almost there.”

“I’m cumming, Y/N– oh shit, shit, shit, shit,” he croaked out, voice high and soaked in pleasure. Danny returned your earlier favor and bit down on your shoulder with a broken moan as he came nearly on command, hips pitching into you frantically as he gave you all he had, and then kept rocking softly as he came down.

Your orgasm was nipping at his heels. With the combined powers of your fingers drawing circles over yourself and Danny still keeping your full, you squeaked out a small, “Ah!” as you came and jerked your hips on Danny’s length to ride out the convulsions it brought on. 

“I’m gonna let you down,” Danny panted, chest heaving from where you had a birds-eye view. "Hold on."

Your feet touched the ground, and you almost crumbled – the only thing saving you from Danny’s smugness was the fact that he seemed to be struggling to stay on his feet as well. “Bed?” you suggested.

But Danny slumped naked against the door, sliding down to sit on the plush carpet. “I think I might just take a rest right here,” he sighed, tugging your down with him.

You tried not to shriek, and ended up letting out a half-cut off 'meep!' as he wrangled you onto your back. How he still had the energy, you weren't sure. But as tired as you were, you weren't about to close your eyes when he wrapped his hand lightly around your throat. Whether it was because he liked the way it looked or because of your reaction to it earlier, you weren't sure.

"But first, I think I'm a little hungry." He kept his hand unmoving until it began to hinder him as he pushed your thighs apart, spreading you out and exposing your glistening entrance to him. "There it is," he murmured, thumbing your lips apart for more access. "You can get up when I'm finished eating."

"Oh god, Danny," you whined, realizing that the night wasn't over yet. You dropped your knees further apart and welcomed Danny between them, even when you couldn't still feel the pulse of your heartbeat down there.

He dove right in, connecting his lips to yours like he'd entered a hands-free mango-eating competition, and you tried to quiet your moans, hums, and keens, but you knew you weren't doing a very good job of it. You were still sensitive from the first time you came, and Danny's tongue, dancing around your cunt and lapping up all your slick until you no longer felt like someone had popped a water balloon inside you, had you tightening and clenching; you just weren't sure if you had another one in you.

After a couple of minutes spent with his mouth on you, tongue moving in waves with an occasional direct flick to your clit, Danny looked up at you with a feral grin. "All clean. Do you think you can cum again?"

You stroked the crown of his head and shrugged. "Probably if I tried. But...I think I'd rather just cuddle now, and you can get me off again in the morning."

Danny chuffed at your planning skills and enthusiastically agreed, wiggling up your body for the time being. You realized he'd never taken the condom off when his soft dick brushed your thigh so, looking down to guide your work, you stroked him from base to tip, pinching the latex at the end so that you wouldn't have a mess on your hands, and gently put it on the ground next to you.

"Okay big boy," you said in his ear, patting his shoulders where they rested on tip of you. "I have to go pee. Girl things, you know."

"I'll be here," he mumbled, lazily rolling off of you and onto the carpet again.

Your brow quirked up as you found your panties and slipped them on, making a quick trip to the bathroom before grabbing a tissue for the condom. “Was I that heavy?” you teased when you came back out and found Danny nodding off, knowing that no matter how much you weighed, holding someone up whilst fucking them was a workout for anyone.

“Hell no, babygirl,” he snorted as he woke up, shuffling around so that he was sitting against the wall before leaning his head back and closing his eyes once more, “you were perfect. That’s just the hardest I’ve ever had to work for my orgasm– I’ve never done that before.”

“Well then, I’m glad I could be one of your firsts,” you sighed, joining him on his apparently preferred surface of the ground and leaning your head onto his shoulder. 

You stayed that way until the air around you became heavy and lax, and by the sound of the door shutting every so often downstairs, the party was winding down and sleep was imminent for everyone.

Picking up Danny’s hand, you asked him, “Are you staying here for the night?” knowing that he spent a lot of time at Sam’s anyways. You wouldn’t be surprised if this was the exact room he always stayed in.

He hummed in confirmation, then pulled you closer, tugging you far enough that you eventually just curled up in his lap like a cat. “Yeah. And you are, too,” he mumbled, wrapping those long arms around your legs and torso to get you as close as you could possibly be. Nosing at your hairline, he got a quick assurance. “Right?”

“Yeah.” If you could get some food or something, that would be fantastic – you always got after-sex munchies, and you were sure Danny knew where Sam hid all his goodies. And speaking of hiding goodies–

“...Do you want to go and find that garlic bread that Sam hid?” you asked into the silence, and Danny perked up at the mention of actual food.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, I do,” he said, wide awake now that he’d been reminded of the snacks he’d brought. “I can’t believe he didn’t put that out, the greedy fucker.”

You both threw on some clothes and then peeked out of the room, the landing still dark. But there was no conversation coming from downstairs, so you both figured Sam had crashed, as well, and quietly creeped back down the stairs, avoiding one creaky step, and then snuck hand-in-hand to the kitchen.

Which happened to be where Sam sat at the counter, munching on the garlic bread. Quite literally taking mouthfuls out of the full-sized loaf, no regard for social norms at all, as he completed the picture with a shit-eating grin on his face between chews. “Why hello there, strangers. Where did you all disappear off to?”

~~~

Tag list:

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#12 days of tropemas 2022 #tropemas 2022 #greta van smut #greta van fleet fics #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner smut

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Keeping Secrets

On the fifth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A smutty Josh short about naughty Secret Santa shenanigans!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Secret Santa" by salem ilese

Trope: Secret Santa

~~~

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, oral sex (f. receiving), masturbation

Words: 630

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

“I thought it was supposed to be Secret Santa,” you gasped, throwing your head back so that it could thunk against the wall as your face screwed up in pleasure.

Josh chuckled from his place on his knees, arms wrapped around your thighs as he ate you out with a fervor that rivaled the way he hit his notes onstage against a wall in the hallway of your apartment. He looked up at you with bright eyes and a wet mouth. “We could find a way to spin it if we really wanted to,” he said, even his breath making you twitch with the proximity. “No one else knows that I revealed myself to you three days early, so that’s a secret.”

You played along, humming when he went back to flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, but groaned and felt your cunt clench around him when added a finger inside you as well. “They don’t know that you got down and got me off with your mouth for your final gift – that’s a secret," you offered.

Again, Josh smiled against you, and you thought that it might be in your best interest if you stopped talking so that he would stop interrupting himself. Each time he attached those perfect lips to you, you were wound up like a Christmas toy, only to be held back when he pulled away again to answer. “I’m glad that you have such faith in my skills,” he joked.

In a purposeful series, you rolled your eyes and then your hips, guiding him to bury his face into your core once more. “Well, it’s not like I agreed to move in with you for nothing,” you sighed, moaning softly as he motioned you to come to him with his fingers while upping the pressure of suction on your clit. “I get– ah…mmm– endless head whenever I want it.” Josh widened his lips and sighed in agreement, shifting on the floor as you suspected his hips twitched, looking for friction. “And that cock of yours, baby,” you gasped, unable to keep your hips from rutting into Josh’s ministrations as your peak approached, “I’ll get to ride it morning, noon, and night.”

While you had a healthy sex life, you were exaggerating for the sake of gratification; you would both appreciate having the other right there instead of having to drive across the city to see each other, mostly. And talk about saving a lot of time and gas money - that would be nice, too.

But yeah, it would be nice having the option of sex morning, noon, and night, at least.

You cried out as Josh brought you over the edge, pinpointing that little bundle of nerves with a rhythmic, powerful suction (he’d been taking lessons from your toy, you thought) and giving you something to clench around with his fingers. “Shit, Josh– oh god, baby, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes” you gasped. The spasms of your hips made you whimper as they jerked you right into Josh’s face. 

Slumped against the wall, you felt Josh fish his cock out of his pants, and he chuckled as he slowly pumped himself, forehead resting against your belly. “Besides, just because you know I drew your name, it doesn't mean you know what the final gift is.”

His words interrupted the soft scratch of your fingers against his scalp, massaging and tugging lightly as he was apparently too impatient to wait for you to recover and got himself off at your feet. You could roll with the punches, though. “There’s more?”

His tone got real smug, real fast. “Sure is. But I can’t tell you what, Y/N,” he said, as steady as he could when you finally pulled him up and took over the friction on his dick. “It is Secret Santa, after all.”

~~~

Tag list:

@fleetsonfire @theweightofstardust @theatrekidjosh @fictional-duchess @greta-van-yeet @prophetofthedune @toothgapjoshy @gretavanfleas @gretavanfleetposts @doodle417 @razorbladekiszka @sammysvanfeet @s-u-t @lallisonl @hayley1623 @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @toxbexannouncedx @sammyslappers @alexxavicry @thecoldwind @maedesculpaeusoubi @jordierama @sarakay-gvf

#12 days of tropemas 2022 #tropemas 2022 #gvf fics #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x reader #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #greta van smut #josh kiszka fanfiction

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Open Doors

On the eleventh day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A filthy, kinky roommates to lovers fic for all the Sammy stans!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Baby It's Cold Outside" by take your pick of any famous version

Trope: Roommates to Lovers

~~~

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, fingering, anal sex

Words: 5.2k

Author's Note: This is very late and very unedited. I beseech you to please look past any mistakes -- I might get around to editing it, I might not, who the hell knows at this point. Happy reading!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

It all started when you tried to warm up your leftover fries.

After debating for half an hour about the state of your hunger with no one but yourself, you’d snuck out of your cave – you were still in the midst of your nesting period – for the subpar fries you’d taken home from a restaurant a few days ago. Subpar fries weren’t the biggest sacrifice you’d make for this particular friend, though – after all, they were the one who’d asked Sam a month prior if you could rent out his 2nd spare room when your rental company abruptly evicted the entire building without cause (needless to say, there was a lawsuit, and you were trying to keep your head above water satisfying the team of lawyers leading it with photos of evidence, statements, and the like).

2nd spare room since the 1st was filled with his music stuff.

Since you’d moved in, all had been well; Sam was nice, respected your space, stayed up late but let you know when he’d be playing music – ultimately, you stayed out of each other’s way as you worked, hunted for apartments, and replied to email after painstaking email from the lawyers.

“Oh, is that Y/N?”

You froze at the refrigerator door, the small voice coming from the speaker of your Sam’s phone as he sat at the island. His mom. You didn’t know Sam before this, and therefore didn’t know his mother, but you heard enough from your friend that apparently Karen had been very interested to find out that Sam had gained a roommate. A female roommate, nonetheless.

Shit.

You shook your head back and forth, trying to get the message across that you were not in the mood to speak with his family – you already knew what kind of questions would come out of that, and it made you worry that things would stale and become weird between the two of you. Besides, you were quite fond of the passive acquaintanceship you were maintaining while you were here, not that you planned on staying for much longer. In fact, you already had a few showings set up for after Christmas so that you wouldn’t have to be in Sam’s hair, even though he’d assured you many times with that charming smile of his that you were doing no such thing.

But even at your insistence, Sam shrugged. You’d walked straight into the frame crossing behind him when you thought it had been Danny he was talking to.

“Hi, Mrs. Kiszka!” you said, forcing a smile for the kind woman. “It’s, uh…nice to finally meet you.”

Sam clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Always working, this one,” he sighed, and Karen hummed thoughtfully through the phone. 

“Sounds like a few sons of mine. But they’re all coming home for Christmas this year, right?”

Her emphasis on the last word left no room for argument, but Sam readily agreed anyway. “Of course, Mom! I’m not missing out on your scalloped potatoes this year,” he vowed, and his mom smiled at him, content for the moment.

Until she turned her sights back on you. “And you have Christmas plans too, right dear?” It must have been the moment’s hesitation where you scrambled to come up with an answer before you tried to garble out an excuse, because Karen gasped and waved her hands excitedly at the camera. “Well you do now!” she cheered. “Don’t you try to lie to me and don’t try to tell me no!”

“But I really did promise a few friends I’d spend the day with them,” you said, turning heel and lying to her. You hadn’t, and you felt bad for having to fib, but a trip all the way to Michigan with your roommate that you barely knew was not your idea of a stressless Christmas, no matter how nice he and his family were. “You know, gift exchanges, potlucks– the works.”

All you wanted was for things to slow down a bit.

“Well, shit,” Karen cursed, and that was enough to draw a genuine laugh out of you. “Maybe next year.”

“Oh, I don’t think–”

“You’ve already told her no once, Y/N,” Sam teased, leaning back as he finally re-inserted himself into the conversation, “don’t break the poor woman’s heart a second time.”

You gave a friendly chuckle and roll of your eyes, finally grabbing your fries from the fridge. “Then I’ll just zip my lips.”

As soon as the microwave started, Sam and his mom continued their conversation, and you scurried away with your treasures before you could be solicited again. You thought that would be the end of it, especially after making it safely back to the room with a larger glass of wine than you needed and digging into the loaded fries like no one’s business. You’d obviously sorely underestimated how hungry you were, and you finished the food in what felt like two seconds flat. The wine, as well, which you could currently feel flowing through your system and loosening the tension from the past few days that you were holding in your body.

You weren’t tipsy, but another glass would put you firmly into that category, so you cut yourself off, knowing that going to bed even tipsy from the semi-sweet wine would give you a headache in the morning.

“So…are you really in that much of a rush to leave?” came a voice from your door. You snapped your gaze over to where Sam was leaning against the frame – you hadn’t even heard him wrap up the call. But that was probably because all your synapses were firing trying to figure out how subpar fries became better. Perhaps the alcohol played a part in it, but you honestly had no clue how long he’d been standing there.

“Um…” You put your take-home container on your bedside table and pursed your lips, not really knowing what kind of answer he was expecting to get. “I mean…no? But also yes. I just don’t want to intrude any more than I have to,” you chuckled lightly, the same explanation dripping from your lips as it had since you moved in.

Sam sighed, “Y/N…”

But you anticipated his protest and quickly overtook it, attempting to placate him by saying, “I know you say you don’t mind me here, but I can only imagine what it’s like to have a stranger come into your home and take over a room and space in your fridge and your guest bathroom and–” you scrambled to come up with just one more reason so that you didn’t have to end on an unfinished list, “–and you have to think about me when you want to bring a girl home.”

Sam’s lips turned up in a small smirk. Shit. You’d walked right into that one. “I have think about you when I’m sleeping with other women?”

Having not realized how that would sound until it was put out into the space between you and Sam, you began to wonder if it would be intrusive questions about your presence that would sour the peaceful calm or if it would be your own damn mouth. “That’s not what I–”

“Meant,” he finished for you. “I know. But it’s only been a month since you moved in, Y/N; how many women do you think I’ve slept with?” His teasing made you blush, which was much easier to do once you had any amount of alcohol in you, tipsy, drunk, or sober.

This was not a conversation that you thought would arise from fries and wine. And so, you found yourself cursing the potatoes again, your love/hate relationship waffling right back to hate in a snap. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate question for me to answer as a roommate,” you enunciated, still trying to insert humor into the statement while applying avoidance in the face of either offending him or really offending him. 

Sam wandered further into the room, looking around at how you’d shifted things to work for you. He hadn’t been in since introducing you to your lodgings with a dramatic flourish the first day you dragged all the stuff you hadn’t shoved in a rental storage unit in, which wasn’t much. It took some acclimation, going from your own space and your own stuff to using pretty much everything of Sam’s that wasn’t a personal item, but it seemed to work. 

His eyes were just as playfully bright as they usually were when he fixed them on you, now bathed in the incandescent light of your table lamp, but they were far more calculated than you’d seen in the past. “But I asked, didn’t I?”

The dynamics resulting from your place on the bed, looking up at him like a child, wasn’t working for you so, before you tried to answer him, you got up off the bed on the side opposite from Sam and picked up your pajamas from where you’d thrown them on the floor that morning. It wasn’t that you needed to, or wanted to, but if it gave you something to do other than stare at a crafty Sam Kiszka, you’d take it. 

“I’m not answering that.”

“Then at least answer one of my questions.” Another serious request under the guise of a joke. 

“Which were?” you stalled, trying to figure out his aim here. You wouldn’t say that he was trying to flirt, per se, but you would categorize this entire interaction as some kind of cat and mouse game. And if not that, then yes, borderline seductive with the way he was posing all his thoughts for you to deduce meaning from. 

He hummed, faux-thoughtful, and smacked his lips. “Well, you can either tell me why you’re so determined to get away, that’s not,” he said pointedly, right to your open mouth about to argue, “that you don’t want to be in my way. You can tell me if you really believe that I think about you when I’m with other women. Or, you can give me your best guess as to how many women you think I’ve slept with in the month you’ve been around.”

“Well, maybe I want to leave so that I won’t have slightly humiliating questions posed to me in what is supposed to be my room, Sam,” you said, straightening your blankets and then grabbing your take out container and wine glass. “Satisfied?”

You tried to pass him by, angling your shoulder so that you wouldn’t bump him, but he caught your arm as you did, stopping you in your tracks and sending a shiver down your spine. He hadn’t actually ever touched you outside of the first handshake when you met and a couple brushes of your fingers as boxes were traded when you moved in.

“No,” he said, looking at you with an unreadable gaze. “What if I made you stay? What then?”

This whole interaction was firmly in dangerous territory, now. “I’d probably called the cops,” you laughed, shifting on your feet. Still, despite the empty threat you never moved to jerk your arm away.

Sam nodded, conceding that making you stay would be a little creepy. “Valid. I guess my follow-up question–”

“That wasn’t part of your game, bucko,” you pointed out quietly, but Sam just tilted his head at your observation with a small smile and kept on.

“--would be…what would it take to make you stay?”

Again, you blamed what came out of your mouth next on your dinner, this time the liquid courage component of it, because Sam’s softly hooded eyes made the question almost sensual, but you didn’t process that in time and all you could say was, “Like…two orgasms and some more loaded fries.”

Both of your mouths fell a bit in shock, and you realized how that answer sounded in response to the nature of his question. “I didn’t–”

“Done.” 

Sam’s answer cut your excuse off, and before your lagging mind could come up with a response to what seemed like a serious proposition, Sam took the wine glass out of your grasp and placed it on the top of your dresser, followed by the take-out box. You were left gaping like a fish and trying not to admit to yourself that your body really liked the idea of two orgasms coming from Sam’s touch, even if you’d vowed you wouldn’t be weird about living with a hot, famous musician. 

Traitor.

Sam finally stopped to look at you, a slightly amused twist on his lips at your shocked expression. “What? I like your company, sue me. If that’s all it’ll take to make you stay…”

“You’re serious?”

“Are you?” he shot back. He crept forward slowly, invading your space and making your head spin – this time, alcohol had nothing to do with it.

The answer, like most things that passed through your brain, was not straightforward. No, you hadn’t been serious when the joke came out of your mouth. Yes, you were getting more serious the more committed to the idea Sam seemed to become. But also no, because you didn’t want Sam to think he had to do this. But also yes, because in all the craziness and not having your own space, you’d felt too awkward to go out and find someone to sleep with or break out your toys and stress really dried a girl out sometimes.

Now was not one of them, apparently.

“I– I can be?” you tried, and Sam furrowed his brow.

“Um…no. Sorry, Y/N, I need a hard yes before anything happens.”

It made you nervous to be in the position where you could either cross the chasm or stay in the safety of your camp, not knowing what was on the other side and eventually moving on. But you figured, nothing was stopping you from taking the risk this time: Sam didn’t make you sign a lease and you could already be on your way out if things went south.

Well, more south than they were supposed to, at least.

With slightly-trembling hands, you met Sam where he was, hovering an inch from your body without touching you, and gripped his shirt in your fists to hide the evidence. “Yeah,” you agreed, nodding infinitesimally, “I’m serious.”

Sam searched your face for any doubt, and when he found none, only burgeoning excitement, his eyes crinkled up in a smile and he said, “Good. ‘Cause so was I.”

It was uncharacteristic of you to take situations life gave you at face value; there was always an ulterior motive or a consequence to be found nearby. But in this instance, with the simple promise of a couple orgasms from a man you weren’t supposed to be wanting them from, you didn’t want to look any further than the present. 

“Kiss me, then,” you whispered into the scant space between the two of you. As soon as Sam leaned in, you slipped your hand behind his neck and pulled him harder into your waiting lips, impatient and drawing a surprised grunt out of him as his hands melted to the shape of your body.

Neither of you pulled away to shuffle back to the bed, and Sam followed you down onto the mattress so that he could continue to taste you, pushing his tongue past your teeth as you gasped for breath against his lips.

Picking your pajamas up off the floor proved to be a fruitless endeavor, as three times as many clothes ended up piled by the bed anyways. Sam paused at your underwear, toying with the waistband while he drank in your nakedness as you were his. “So, two orgasms tonight and loaded fries tomorrow?” he asked, still softly comical. 

You shrugged in the midst of physically nudging Sam’s fingers further under the last shred of material on your body, encouraging him to brush past the thatch of hair and into the wetness that resided between your lips. “It’s negotiable.”

Sam cursed as he made contact with your core, and his hesitation disappeared along with your panties. “A little wet for me, huh?”

You quickly put a stop to his boast, brushing your shin against his prominent erection and catching the bead of precum at the tip, which made him suck in a sharp breath. “You’ve got no room to talk – Little Sam’s already spoken for you.”

“Little?” Sam scoffed, knowing full well that you didn’t mean it that way. Still, he made it an excuse to prod a finger at your entrance. “I’ll show you how little he is.”

But now that you were playing the game, you let out a sigh as he let his digit be enveloped into your body. “Sorry– perfectly average Sam has already spoken for you. Better?”

Sam shook his head, smiling without humor at your banter. “You’re gonna regret the cheek, sweetheart.” With how well you were taking one finger and were already silently asking for more, Sam soon had another finger buried into you, scissoring your embarrassingly wet cunt until he was satisfied. Emphasis on ‘he,’ because when you tried to sneak a finger down to join his on your clit, he only snatched your wrist away easily and tsked, shooting you an unimpressed look. “You’re really wound up, aren’t you, Y/N?” Sam observed, eating up the way you writhed on the bed and squirmed on his fingers, trying to get them to scratch the itch under your skin. He kept them still, letting you fuck yourself for a second until you desperately whined out his name. “God, how long has it been since you came? You’re acting like a little nympho – surely it can’t be too hard to find a willing victim?”

You were tempted to reach down again to push yourself further towards the edge, but you knew Sam would just take them away again. “I haven’t tried,” you told you. “Not since I’ve been here.”

Sam hummed, a rumble deep in his chest like a purr, and transferred those two digits from your cunt to his mouth while he moved between your legs. “What about yourself? Fingers? Toys?”

You shook your head, face screwing up in concentration of finally reaching that sweet release that you weren’t aware you missed so much until it was served to you on a silver platter. “No. I didn’t want you to accidentally hear me.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” he teased. Because of course he wouldn’t – he was just a typical man, after all. “That means you’ve got a month’s worth of orgasms built up, don’t you?”

Well– “I don’t think that’s how it–”

“Shhh,” he hushed. You shut your mouth and twisted your lips, the sudden loss of his fingers not one your body loved, and if listening to him was going to get you closer to being filled up again, you weren’t going to argue. “I know how it works. And don’t worry. I might not have a month’s worth of cum built up like you do, but I haven’t slept with anyone since you moved here either.”

Your brows shot up in surprise. Not once? 

“Was it– it was because of me, wasn’t it?”

Sam smiled slightly, and joked, “Quite a big ego you have there, Y/N.” He slid the condom on himself and then took one roll of his hips to push into you, all the way to the hilt, as you both groaned in relief. “Maybe not because I was thinking of this,” he sighed, blinking sluggishly as he took in how you felt and let you adjust. “God, but this tight little pussy is all I’m gonna be thinking about from now on– shit, Y/N.”

You weren’t having any of it, though. “Move, Sam,” you demanded, body already locking up as you reveled in how good it felt to have a dick in you again. “Please move– I– I need it.”

“I know you do,” he cooed as he brushed your hair out of your face. “A whole month without touching yourself – goddamn, sweetheart, that’s a long time,” he huffed, blowing out a long breath as he began moving, slickly sliding against your walls as he took your hand and fumbled for your pointer finger, laying it near where he was plunging into you. “Touch yourself for me now, we’ll get you there together.”

Now that permission had been granted, and you knew that he wasn’t going to gather your hands up in just one of his octave-and-a-half, spider-fingered ones, you quickly began to chase the high that was so close already. 

Sam was focused on your face; you caught him staring, committing the expressions that played across to memory as his mouth dropped open and his eyes began to droop. His method push and pull lulled you into a frenzy – all you wanted was to get off, and you felt like you were running alongside it instead of toward your orgasm. 

“I didn’t sleep with anyone because I didn’t feel the need to,” he said suddenly, still mesmerized by how desperate you were to cum. It was like the fact that he was actively fucking you was barely registering, and if that was the case, you really needed to pick up some kegel exercises. “I sleep with women ‘cause I’m bored or– I swear, Y/N, keep clenching around me like that and we aren’t gonna get to two orgasms with my cock tonight.” You giggled breathlessly, but didn’t stop. You quite liked the effect it had on him. “I like having you around. S’not as boring anymore.”

“So I’m your entertainment and now– what? Your physical relief too?” you teased, still reaching for that first orgasm. You knew what you needed – that one little push was something you were familiar with, and there was always one fool-proof way to get past this last hurdle. “I’m okay with that,” you finished before Sam could deny it.

And then, distracting him even further, you soaked one of your fingers in the slick that Sam was spreading out from your core with his dick and then picked your knees up, effectively rolling your hips up. And despite not knowing what your goal was, Sam held them for you, using them as something to grip onto as he began jack-hammering into you, breath finally getting more labored. 

You whined, and as soon as you reached under your leg and Sam felt where your finger was trailing to, he groaned and his hips stuttered.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, slowly starting to stroke your finger in and out of your ass in tandem with Sam’s strokes. “Oh fuck, I’m there!” you cried out, voice rising to a wail as a long-awaited orgasm took over you in waves, jolting your body further onto Sam’s cock and your finger. 

He waited until you came down, and shakily withdrew himself. “Take whatever you fucking what from me,” he breathed, eyes blown out and wide. “Shit, Y/N, that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen a woman do in bed.”

You tiredly tilted your head. “No anal for your conquests?”

He rolled his eyes and gripped the base of his still-hard dick. “They aren’t my conquests. And no…it’s not standard with the women I have sex with, I guess.”

Woozy from the strength of your orgasm and still operating on the fact that you could be out of the place by next week, you bit your lip and threw caution to the wind. “Would you…like to try it?”

As if he’d just been told he’d be getting a pony for Christmas, his eyes lit up and his cock bobbed on its own, again giving him away before he could properly articulate an answer. “I mean, I’ve done it once, but…it was really, really fucking hot. Would you let me?” he croaked quietly. “Are you really into it, like, with a guy? Not just your fingers?”

You nodded, blushing a little bit. “Yeah…it was one of the first things I did when I broke up with my first boyfriend years ago. He was vanilla and I wanted to step out of his box.” You reached over to rummage through the drawer in your bedside table for your lube. “Went into it unsure I’d like it, but I haven’t looked back since.” If you were going to be roommates, you might as well share some stories.

Granted, these were neither the stories normally told between roommates nor in a situation such as the one you found yourself in.

“You’re perfection,” Sam breathed, eagerly taking the lube from your fingers and placing a deep, sloppy kiss on your lips before pulling back abruptly. “Like this? How do you wanna do it?” he asked, obviously trying not to let his full enthusiasm show. 

He failed quite grandly at that.

Knowing how it felt best, you flipped yourself over and brought your knees under you, glad that your face was buried in a pillow, because in this position, Sam would be able to see everything, which, considering this would only be his second time, was probably best for everyone. “Like this. Just make sure you stay the fuck away from from my pussy once you’ve touched my ass.”

Sam chuckled, and then you felt his trembling fingers apply cold lube to your asshole that made you jump. “I know that much,” he assured. “Just ‘cause I’ve only done it once doesn’t mean I don’t have tons of research under my belt.”

“Perv.”

The insult didn’t land when it was forced out on the tail-end of a moan as Sam slowly inserted his finger in. It had been a while since someone else had been back there – it wasn’t a kink you usually shared with someone else unless you held a bit of trust with them, but you’d forgotten how good someone else’s touch felt in comparison to your own.

“I told you– it was hot. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks.” He continued to finger you, closely emulating how he did it only a short time earlier in a different entrance than the one he was exploring now. As soon as he could comfortably scissor you with two fingers without as much resistance as there had been initially, Sam let out a deep, grounding breath. “You ready?”

“Fuck me,” you said in response, trying not to drool on your pillowcase. Now that you’d recovered from your previous orgasm, you were vying for another and wished you had a toy. But your fingers would certainly suffice this time, especially with how sensitive you were. You didn’t think you’d need as much help as you might on a normal day.

The head of Sam’s cock tapped against your ass, slick with lube and ready to go. “Where? Where should I fuck you, Y/N?”

Oh, he was milking this. Absolutely, shamelessly making it into what would probably feature in his wet dreams for the foreseeable future. You couldn’t blame him, though– you had a great ass, after all.

So, you conceded, and for his pleasure, moaned, “Fuck my ass, Sam. Come on, I know you want to.”

He groaned at your response and did as you egged him to, letting the head press in first and then following it with each inch of his shaft, relishing in such a different experience than the one he’d had taking pleasing in your cunt. “Y/N,” he chanted, hands gripping onto your hips for dear life. “Holy shit, Y/N, Y/N– oh god, oh god, oh god.”

Being stuffed full in such an intimate place, the stretch of your ass around Sam’s dick burned in a way that was so good. Once you’d discovered the joys of anal play, the exploration that came next was just as good as any actual anal sex that you had afterwards. You remembered how you played around with different toys and different textures, just to feel as dirty as you did asking your first partner to play around with you.

“Sam,” you choked out, already rubbing furious circles over your slick-covered clit without much finesse, just wringing every ounce of pleasure from this interaction as you possibly could. “You– fuck, I forgot how good it felt to have someone–” 

You were cut off by an abrupt thrust. But then, after that initial test-drive, Sam seemed to lose his inhibitions and snapped his hips into your ass, over and over again. You moaned like a whore – the intense reaction was rather called for after your month of celibate behavior and even longer without having someone indulge your secret thirst for anal sex.

“You like it when I use your ass, sweetheart?” Sam puffed, drawing confidence from your audible pleasure. “If I’d known you were such a kinky fuck I’d have propositioned you the day you moved in.”

“If that meant you’d fuck me like this, I’d have said yes.”

The ride was short, but all you needed to choke on your own breath and tighten around your own fingers, squeezing Sam to the point that he couldn’t make a sound that wasn’t strangled as if the grip your ass had on his cock was directly responsible for cutting off his air.

He couldn’t even tell you that he was cumming. You felt his hips lurch and his dick pulse each time a strand hit the pocket in the latex, but other than that, there was barely even a moan until Sam gained back the ability to function and fell forward, only barely catching himself on shaky, locked arms so as not to crush you. “Holy fuck,” he panted, drawing in deep breaths to make up for the one’s he’d missed. “Holy fuck.”

You could barely muster the energy to turn your head, spitting the material of your pillowcase out from between your lips where you’d bitten down to keep from being too awfully loud. “If you come and fuck my brains out every time I log into apartments.com, it would be a great incentive to not leave, just for future reference.”

Sam collapsed next to you and bonelessly flung an arm over to rub your bare back. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Despite his serious tone, you knew there was no conviction behind his words, so you laughed instead in liew of packing your bags and getting the hell outta Dodge. “This isn’t a fucking Hallmark movie, Sam. You can’t profess your love to me a month after meeting.”

“Damn,” he cursed, moving in close enough that his breath displaced a few strands of hair.

 You smiled at his never-ending humor. “You’re just  in love with the fact that I let you near my ass.”

Sam chuffed along with you and finally left to get a wet rag from his bathroom to wipe you down with. “Fine. I guess you might be right. But keep being so generous with your body and you never know…”

You let his statement dissipate without responding to it, and remained in the moment, with a soft, warm cloth running across your skin and feeling more relaxed than you had since getting the eviction notice two months ago. 

You never thought you’d ever say it, but what an insane stroke of luck that turned out to be.

~~~

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

Sweet and Spicy

On the fourth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A sweet (buh-dum, chsshh) little fluffy fic about baking with fiance!Danny!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Christmas Cookies" by George Strait

Trope: Baking Cookies

~~~

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader

Warnings: None!

Words: 951

~~~

“Tell me again why we’re making three different kinds of cookies?” Danny said, hands somehow goopy with batter.

You stared at your fiance, brows furrowed as you tried to figure out how he’d gotten into his little situation in the five minutes you’d been turned around adjusting the chocolate chip cookies in the oven and transferring the finished batch to rest with the sugar ones on a cooling rack. “Did you…try to mix it with your hands? Daniel Wagner, please don’t tell me tried to mix my homemade gingerbread with your hands.”

Danny pursed his lips and shifted his eyes away from yours. “...I definitely did not try to mix it with my hands,” he said, lie evident in his voice. 

“Oh honey,” you sighed, shaking your head at the mess. “You’ve been spending too much time with the ‘no impulse control’ Kiszkas.”

“It’s my job,” Danny sighed dramatically. “We balance each other out.”

You scoffed, checking the timer and then making your way around the island counter to where Danny was. He was blissfully unguarded; big mistake. “Not anymore, it seems,” you hummed, innocently wrapping your arms around Danny’s midsection, wonderfully muscled with just the right amount of padding. 

Talk about perfection.

“Hi, love,” he hummed, continuing his attempt at kneading the gingerbread batter into a less-lumpy mess. “Sorry about your batter.”

You didn’t acknowledge his apology – the cookies could be saved, you thought, and you had other things on your mind. “Danny, do you love me?”

His attention strayed from the cookies, and you could practically hear the one arched brow when he said, “Yeaahhh…why do you ask?”

Aha. He was catching on.

“I just wanted to make sure the wedding would still be on. You know, in case I decided to… take advantage of your helpless state,” you cackled quickly, digging your fingertips up and down his sides, where he was the most ticklish. 

“Ah! Ah, shit, no– stop it!” he yelped, fighting against your weight as you pushed him into the edge of the counter to keep him there and trying to squirm away from you. But he was still bigger than you, and still stronger, so after a couple of seconds frantically trying to find a towel to wipe his batter-hands on, said, “I love you, Y/N, but you brought this on yourself!

You were a little too focused on your attack to register his words in time, so there was no saving yourself when Danny snapped around and put his sloppy molasses hands on your cheeks, pushing you away gently just as you reeled back yourself. Your mouth hung open and you let out a deep gasp, slowly bringing one finger to swipe through the goo. “Daniel Robert Wagner,” you said slowly, deliberately. “You are dead meat when I get this off my face.”

“You started it!” Danny exclaimed, rushing to the sink first to clean his hands in competition with you.

You stomped up right after him, quickly cupping water in your hands and wiping what you could off. “Yeah, and I’m gonna finish it, too. Oh god,” you bemoaned, feeling the oil stick to your face, “I’m gonna have a face full of acne for our Christmas card pictures. Danny!”

You heard him lope up the stairs. Coward. Probably going to hide somewhere to escape your wrath. But before you finished wiping your face dry, his footsteps came again, back to the first floor. He came around the corner holding your face wash, a slightly guilty look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t even think about that.”

It wasn’t as if you were actually angry; there were always consequences for tickling. And if Danny didn’t have the impulse control not to mix the batter with his hands, then you were quite foolish to believe that he wouldn’t use them as weapons, as well. He hadn’t been in a helpless state – he’d been in a protected one, and that was on you for not seeing.

So, you sighed and took the wash, catching his wrist as you did, and pressed a small kiss to his hand to show him that you weren’t angry. “It’s okay. The wedding is still on, I guess.”

“Whew!” Danny said with a big smile, swiping his hand across his forehead “What a relief. I can’t believe I almost wasted the one good thing I have in my life.” His dramatics were punctuated by the return of the back of his hand slapping to his forehead once again, this time paired with a woeful expression on his face.

“Yeah…definitely too much time around the Kiszkas,” you teased, poking him in the stomach before turning around to wash your face again. 

Danny wrapped his arms around you, kissing the back of your neck before you bent down to the stream of water. You loved that he was so attentive, and he always made you feel warm and gooey inside, just like a big cookie yourself.

“At least I learned not to mix cookie dough with my hands,” he mused out loud. You hoped he didn’t expect an answer, because the wash was just beginning to foam on your face when he spoke and the timer for the next batch of cookies went off – a small, insistent beeping ringing through the kitchen. “We can always buy the little gingerbread house kits. Or the molasses cookies my parents used to buy! Those were fantastic.” 

And ringing. And ringing.

“Dghsndcookwnr,” you said through a faceful of soap. 

Danny put his hand on your lower back. “Huh?”

With just enough water to wipe your mouth, you kicked him lightly with a small laugh. Attentive to you, perhaps. “Danny, the cookies!”

“Oh!”

~~~

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

That's Christmas to Me

On the ninth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A family Christmas with glasses!Joshy!

Christmas Song Pairing: "That's Christmas to Me" by Pentatonix

Trope: Meet the Parents/Family Christmas

~~~

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: None!

Words: 1.4k

~~~

“Do you remember the first time you met my parents?” 

Josh’s voice was low and playful in the kitchen of your home, and his question drew the combined giggles of Karen, Kelly, Jita, and Jake, who were all gathered around the island as well.

Oh god. Not this again.

“It has been years,” you complained quietly, pouring more creamer into your coffee. “When is that gonna die out?”

And it had been years. So many that you and Josh had since gotten married, bought a house, settled down, had some kids — and yet no one seemed too eager to drop that very first Christmas.

“It leaves an impression when you light the tree on fire, dear,” Kelly chuckled. He’d been the one to put it out, and he was also the one to never let you live it down. “You’ll have to forgive us for holding it against you.”

“Are we talking about when Y/N ruined Christmas?”

A new whispered voice entered the kitchen, and Sam quietly padded into the space, eyes sleepy. None of the boys were used to getting up this early, but it was the only way to get any semblance of adult peace on this particular day, so they all sacrificed some sleep when Karen and Kelly had asked if you’d all get up early for more time together.

Josh laughed a little bit, the faux-discontent on your face that Josh had derived your nickname from. “Aww, Kitten,” he cooed, “don’t tell me you’re still embarrassed.” 

You didn’t react to his arms snaking around you, resisting a smile that threatened to break your character. Embarrassed? No. Exasperated? Yes.

“I’m always surprised that it was the tree that sticks with you all,” you sighed. Desperate to steer the topic away from the tree disaster, you threw Danny under the bus (sorry Danny) – he and his family had been invited like they were every year, but this time, they had family flying in from out of state and were coming over for New Year’s, instead. “You’re either not remembering or refusing to acknowledge the fact that Danny ate all the good chocolate truffles that your grandmother sent in and then blamed it on Sam.”

Sam, of course, scoffed immediately and muttered, “I haven’t forgotten…”

Jake chuckled, clearing his throat a bit before rumbling out, “Yeah, but she sends those every year, and every year, someone inevitably eats the last one before someone else gets to have one. That’s an ongoing battle.”

Jita grimaced at your sympathetically, but agreed with Jake. “He’s right. They really did do that every year. Josh tried to trick me into eating the last one during one of my first Christmases with them.”

“Didn’t work,” sighed Josh, chin on your shoulder. “The tree thing was the first of its kind.”

Dammit, Josh.

“It was Ronnie’s faulty lighting!” you said, maintaining the argument that you’d had since the day it happened. The cord had been moonlighting as a ribbon and was foolishly plugged into a 100 year old outlet strip that offered no protection when you tripped on it and accidentally jerked it out of its place where it had been overheating anyways. 

Either way, the outlet sparked up and caught a branch of their live fir tree on fire, the fire alarm had gone off, and a third of the tree burned before Kelly managed to put it out with the extinguisher while Danny had followed with a popcorn bowl filled with water. A burned tree and soggy presents – Sam had called you Y/N the Grinch Wench for the entire rest of your time there until you threatened to leave and Josh gave him a Kelly-level stink eye.

“It was so not my fault!” Ronnie herself ambled in next, meaning that the last of the adults that had been able to come to Christmas this year were all awake before the kids. Karen gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her a mug of coffee, wishing her a Merry Christmas that was echoed in a whisper by everyone else. “It was…ah shit, who was I dating at the time?” she cursed, trying to think back so long ago.

“Denny,” Sam supplied, “because we joked that Danny was the superior name afterwards.”

“Of course you did,” Ronnie sighed, smiling into her drink. It was true, after all, and Denny was an ex for a reason. “Denny was the one who plugged it in that morning.”

Josh tightened his hold on you and kissed your hair, obviously feeling the nostalgia creep in from all those years ago, so early in your relationship. And look at where you were now — surrounded by his family, who had quickly become yours as well, your children sleeping in the next room (though you assumed it wouldn’t stay that way for long), and the love you held having only matured like fine wine.

You sighed, finally settling back into him, and accepted his touch like you usually did, melting into him like warm batter. “We hadn’t even said our first ‘I love you’s at that point,” you said, turning your head to look at Josh. “I can’t believe you kept me around after that.”

He chuckled in your ear and whispered, “I still love you, by the way,” which sent a shiver through you. “My family would have invited you back afterwards whether I kept you around or not, though,” he sighed, this time loud enough for the family to hear.

Jake laughed, a little too loud, and flinched away when Ronnie smacked him on the arm, shushing him. Still, he grinned cheekily at you and said, “Yeah, I don’t think we’d had a Christmas as entertaining as that one since Josh and I woke up really early and hid the presents.”

“Correction: hid everyone else’s presents,” Sam pouted, his voice still rough. His always stayed that way after waking up the longest. “And they told Ron and I that Santa had to leave early and decided that our presents weren’t as important.”

You could hear Josh’s squeak of a bitten back laugh through his hands, which he’d jerked back to cover his mouth with at the memory.  He couldn’t hold it all back, though, and his giggles escaped between his fingers. “That was cruel of us,” he admitted, though no apology was to be found in his tone. 

“And also the reason we got rid of the Santa tradition,” Karen remarked. 

That had been one thing you noticed that first Christmas; you were all full-blown adults, but you were used to your own parents still signing notes with ‘Santa’ and referencing him when talking about gifts. But Josh had explained that in order to encourage thankfulness and mindfulness (and apparently good behavior), they’d abolished the idea of Santa and brought each child out gift shopping for the others, then put their own names and any gifts sent in by aunts and uncles and grandparents on the rest.

It was a tradition that you’d carried over with your own kids, much to Kelly and Karen’s delight, as it gave them an excuse to gather the entire family and all the grandkids for a big Christmas every year.

And speaking of…

“PRESENT TIME!”

All the cousins that had decided to have a sleeping-bag dogpile sleepover in one guest room came running out, barefooted and bed-headed, after their rousing voices floated out of the bedroom in the hall.

Saying goodbye to the peace of the early morning, Josh gave you one more squeeze before he opened his arms to accept your youngest, who’d snuck into your bed in the middle of the night but stayed asleep until her siblings and cousin came to wake her up.

Your little Cindy Lou Who.

All the other kids had a quick hug and kiss from Grandma, Grandpa, and all their aunts and uncles, they all lined up around the tree, talking and babbling excitedly to each other. Both Jake’s kid and yours were around the same age, and they were each motioning with their hands at the presents they thought were theirs while your younger middle child thought that every gift was theirs, and had to be corralled by Ronnie away from the tissue paper peeking out of some bags.

“Well, Christmas has officially begun,” Josh huffed, coming up next to you once your youngest has wiggled down to get to the rest of the family to watch the unfolding chaos as the grandparents dealt out gifts. “That’s for sure.”

You slinked an arm around his waist, reveling in the way he immediately responded by wrapping his body around you, the rim of his glasses digging into your skull not even bothering you. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~~~

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

Icy Slips and Little Lies

On the second day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A fluffy ice skating fic where Sam gets caught slipping.

Christmas Song Pairing: “Plea for the Holidays" by Marloma

Trope: Ice Skating

~~~

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: None!

Words: 1.6k

~~~

“You know, I’m onto you,” you said to your boyfriend, as focused as you could be with most of your attention remaining on the couples and families around you, the inconvenient divots in the ice from where other skaters had tried to stop with the tip of their skate blades (and hopefully ate shit), and your balance.

All while your baby-giraffe boyfriend glided smoothly besides you without a care in the world.

He let out a short laugh, and you had to smile at the familiar sound of it. Even if you wouldn’t be taking your eyes off the ground, you could see his goofy, crooked smile in your mind’s eye. “Why? For what? I’m just minding my own business over here,” Sam said, putting one arm out and bracing himself as you stumbled a little bit on the chipped ice, giving you something to clutch onto like a safety rail for stability.

You were lucky that he was stronger than he looked; years of handling his less-than-feather-light instrument and honing the forearm muscle it took to move his fingers as fast as he did for the songs he played really came in handy sometimes (most of the time, actually…in a lot of different applications). 

And Sam was right – he really wasn’t doing anything particularly suspicious — not in the eyes of anybody else, at least. But you had insider knowledge. Insider knowledge that last year, when you were the one to make a date at the local ice rink thinking that, ‘oh, he grew up in Michigan, surely he’s a natural on the ice,” you would get to see Sam in his natural element.

But that was not the case. At all.

In fact, you’d quickly found out that Sam’s parents, bless their hearts, hadn’t let Sam try out for hockey when he was younger because he was just that bad on the ice. And he hadn’t gotten better in all the years since. Until today, apparently.

“You’re…good.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Sam joked, and he winked at you when you turned your head to give him an exasperated glare, “be more specific.”

You gestured at the ice. “This, Sam. You’re good at this somehow, when I watched you almost take out an entire family in one go last year.”

Sam stayed uncharacteristically quiet, and you looked over to see a small smirk on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Or,” he amended, sensing your argument brewing as soon as the words left his mouth, “I don’t know what you’re implying, at least.”

A new Christmas song started playing over the loudspeaker, and the clock on the scoreboard began a countdown to the next time that everyone would have to clear the rink so that the Zamboni could make a round and smooth everything out. You pointed at it, saying, “One more loop and then hot chocolate?”

“Anything for you, milady,” he said sweetly, leading you around again, no problems to be had.

Letting go of your suspicions for a moment, you took a second to appreciate just how happy and content he seemed. He’d come so far since the two of you had met and started dating, and you’d seen him in states of mind across the spectrum. But this? Glowing, even under the bright fluorescent rink lights, as he held your hand and hummed along to the Christmas tune? 

This was by far your favorite.

But favorite or not, you weren’t about to let him off the hook, seeing as he hadn’t even so much as stumbled this time. “I think you secretly went and got ice skating lessons,” you said, a small smile playing at your lips at your theory. 

Perhaps with anyone else, it would be outlandish, but Sam couldn’t stand not being able to do something at least averagely. It was the almost-Yale-bound overachiever peeking through his stoner facade.

But Sam reacted appropriately, letting out a honk and squeezing your hand in amusement. “Super secret skating lessons? What – you think that I blew off band practice just to come and get lessons from some meathead high school hockey player?”

“Yep.”

“For the sole, once-a-year date that we go on where I need this skill?”

Again, you nodded. “Yep.” You grew more and more confident with every word Sam said. This was his favorite way to weasel out of telling the truth – first he’d make you doubt yourself by oversimplifying your viewpoint so that it seemed outrageous, and if that didn’t work, then he’d try to change the subject, and then, if he really didn’t want to admit something, he would lie outright. 

“That’s some conspiracy theory, alright,” he chuckled, leading you towards the exit and slowing you both down so that you could exit the rink without tripping. “Hey, do you happen to know if this concession stand makes their hot chocolate with milk or water?”

Strike two.

You hobbled over to the lockers and started undoing the lock you’d been assigned to retrieve some cash, shrugging and refusing to let Sam off the hook. “I dunno,” you said dismissively, cocking your head when you turned back to him. “What did you learn first? How to stop? Correct skating form? How to fall?”

Sam blinked and then raised his brows. “Not sure what you’re talking about. My brain is a rock – even if I wanted to learn, it doesn’t soak up anything anymore. Probably all the loud noises on stage. Maybe the alcohol.” 

The snort you let out was ungraceful, but it made Sam smile, so you were fine with sounding like a bull in public for that reward. The line was short for concessions, with most skaters trying to skate until the clock ran out, and Sam hadn’t taken his amused gaze off of you. “The truth always comes out,” you said sagely, stepping up to the lacquered wooden bar, where one young woman and one young man were working.

“Sam!” the boy crowed, eyes lighting up as he turned to his coworker. “I told you,” he murmured before grinning at your boyfriend, who squeezed his eyes shut and flushed. 

“...Hey, Jack,” he mumbled, refusing to meet your curious, yet pointed gaze. “How’ve you been?”

The boy kept on grinning, content making small talk, as there was no one in line behind you. “Good! Have you been skating a lot? Did you ever get the spin down? Sorry we couldn’t keep lessons going,” Jack said, immediately outing Sam as your face grew subtly smug. You didn’t want to make the poor boy behind the counter uncomfortable, but you would give your boy all the shit possible.

Talk about karma.

“It’s all good,” Sam said as he waved off the apology. “I had music stuff, you had…school.” The statement hung in the air, and you realized that what he said earlier was so absurd that it really was the truth, and that was his strategy to get you off his back – he couldn’t have possibly known that it would blow up in his face so rapidly. “Could we get a couple of hot chocolates?”

Sam drew the transaction out, likely not looking forward to the ribbing you’d give him once you were out of earshot, but eventually, the buzzer beeped and people started filing in, looking for a snack, so you took your paper cups to one of the tables in the next room and sat in tense silence for a moment.

“Before you say anything,” Sam finally said, watching you grin into your hot chocolate, “you should know that I did it for you.”

The uncharacteristically affectionate statement – not that Sam was unaffectionate by any means, but grand verbal gestures just weren’t really your thing – stunned you, and you swallowed the sharp teasing that had been balancing on your tongue, so ready to fall out, in favor of curiosity. “For me?”

Sam mumbled something into his cup, so close to his drink that it actually bubbled around his words.

“Oh, sorry Mermaid Man,” you deadpanned, leaning forward on the table, “I don’t speak bubbles. Can you say that again?”

He huffed, fixing you with a lightly exasperated glare. “You’re so mean,” he pouted, but he quickly revealed his joking expression when you smiled a little softer and gave a small kiss to his hand. “We got kicked out of the couple’s skate last year,” he sighed. “And you were really looking forward to that. So, I felt bad, and not just because I almost took down Ethyl and Ron.”

At the memory of Sam, gripping for dear life on the suspenders of a sweet old man who thankfully hadn’t minded that your boyfriend almost sliced his kneecap off, you chuckled. It wasn’t because of Ethyl and Ron that you’d been kicked out – it wasn’t technically Sam’s fault at all. Sure, he’d pissed off a few other people who weren’t nearly as sweet as the old couple had been, but it was the moody middle-aged man who’d reported Sam to the apologetic rink supervisor that had ruined your fun in the end, not your boyfriend’s awful skating.

“Oh, Sammy,” you laughed, hopping out of your seat so that you could drape yourself over him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I do love you.” Sam grabbed your hands where they hung by his chest and leaned back into you. With the opportunity there, you snuffled into his ear. “Thank you for trying. Even if I still believe you did it for your wounded pride more than me.”

You were gone, then. Back at to the lockers to get your skates and surely fail in your attempt to outrun Sam.

“Hey!” Sam cried, in both offense and surprise, tipping the rest of his cooling hot chocolate back before he raced you over to the benches, where you were already lacing up your skates again. 

~~~

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

Sleeper Sled

On the tenth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A fluffy sledding fic where Jake is grumpy!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Dashing Through the Snow" by A Very Convoluted History of Versions and Singers

Trope: Sledding

~~~

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Some suggestive implications, language

Words: 2k

Author's Note: I'm not quite done with the Sammy fic that was supposed to go out today, so I had to switch up the pattern. Hope you don't mind! Besides, that also means we'll be finishing off Tropemas with 2 very smutty rhythm section fics ;)

~~~

Jake had been grumpy when you woke him up before noon. It’s not like you could blame him — you knew intimately how late he stayed up. But you had plans for the day, and when you were finally able to bribe him with a hot coffee and food on the way to where you were taking him, he finally dragged himself out of bed, demanding a kiss, as well.

“Where are we even going?” He mumbled once you pulled away, resistant to his attempts to deepen the kiss and get you back in bed.

You patted his hip and went back to searching for Jake’s good winter gloves in the box of miscellaneous hats, scarves, gloves, and mittens. “A date,” you said. 

“I could plan a perfectly good date right here, though,” came Jake’s reply from the bathroom. “And then we wouldn’t have to trek through the snow.”

The sink started to run, so you didn’t bother responding. You knew that Jake’s idea of a date at home would be him offering to teach you how to make a dish, eventually kicking you out of the kitchen because the only people he really liked cooking with are his mom and dad, and then watching a movie until you either passed out, got bored, or started fucking.

So, no. You would not be staying here. And besides, trekking through the snow was part of the date, something that Jake soon found out as soon as he saw the “Joy’s Old Sleddin’ Hill” sign sitting atop the gate you passed under to pull into the freshly-salted parking lot.

“Sledding?” Jake questioned, doubt tinging his tone. “Have you ever been snowboarding? It’s much more fun.”

You fixed your boyfriend with an unamused glare. He wasn’t usually such a spoil-sport, but you knew he’d been up in the music room all night, hyper-fixated on a new riff that he just had to get before he got to bed. You’d had this date planned for a couple of weeks now, though, and he’d known about it even if you’d kept the location a secret. Because of that, you had very little sympathy for his late-night habits.

“Yes. With your family last year, remember? When you took me out because you and Sam wouldn’t stop fucking around on the beginner’s slope?”

Jake tried to stop the smile from reaching his lips, but you saw the small smirk take over eventually and shook your head good-naturedly. “Oh yeah,” he coughed, covering up his amusement poorly. “Alrighty. Well, if we’re gonna do it, then, let’s do it.”

Despite the less-than-enthusiastic send-off, Jake reached for your hand when you met up behind the car to walk to the sled rental but before you took off, hooked his newly-gloved finger into your scarf so that he could pull it down and kiss your cheek.

“Trying to suck up to me now, Kiszka?” you teased, readjusting your scarf before leaning into your boyfriend. He must have felt bad for being a sourpuss, but you hadn’t let it affect your mood because you knew he’d come around. And again, he wasn’t always like this – you were willing to give him a break every so often when he let his creative genius take over.

“I would never,” he denied, but you saw the smile. “Why would I when I’m still getting cold and wet on a Sunday when we could have been warm and wet in–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” you gasped, pasting your wool-covered palm over his mouth, “there are children around!” It didn’t stop him, because you could feel his breath seep into your mitten as he mumbled incoherently into your hand, so you just kept it there as you walked until he quieted again. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

Perhaps it was a warning and a threat to you, but Jake just smiled mischievously and sighed, “If that’s how I’m gonna get out of climbing up this God forsaken hill, I’ll give a dramatic rendition of last night.”

You scoffed and glanced over at him, approaching the sled rental, finally. “What– before or after you left me on the bed to go and chase your little guitar chords?”

That certainly got Jake’s attention, and he narrowed his eyes before leaning in. He didn’t really want to get kicked out, after all. “I left you exhausted, don’t pretend like I didn’t take care of you first,” he said, the complaint ripe in his words.

You smiled as you shelled out for the best sleds the little shack had and thought about disagreeing just to see where it got you but, eventually, decided that you didn’t actually want to ruin Jake’s day. “You did,” you conceded, giving up the fight - and he had, you just much preferred to cuddle with him after he rocked your shit than with his pillow as he returned to his one true love. You weren't made by Gibson, after all.

You gave Jake his sled as you made for the hill, and he harrumphed behind you, but followed. Even trudging up the hill, you didn’t talk much, too busy trying not to look as out of shape as you both were. But, heavy breathing and all, Jake began to get a tad bit more pep in his step the further toward the top you got.

As much as he grouched about getting up early and being cold and wet, he was a Michigan boy at heart, and you knew he missed the plethora of slopes around every corner. He never passed up a chance to grab his old snowboard from his parent’s garage when you visited, and he’d disappear with Josh for hours once he knew you were comfortable and had something to do (as if his family ever ran out of things to do).

Sledding wasn’t that much different.

Someone flew past you on their way down, and Jake watched as the snow sprayed up behind them. “Damn…” he muttered, taking another look at his board. “Are you sure we don’t need to go back down and rent some goggles and a couple of helmets?”

“I knew you’d come around,” you said smugly, finally approaching the end of the line of people waiting to be placed and given the green light by the workers. “You can’t stay away from extreme snow sports.”

Jake furrowed his brows. “Since when has sledding been an extreme sport?” he scoffed, still keeping up the fake attitude, even though you could see him bouncing on his heels.

As the line gradually shortened with each person that quickly picked up speed on the steep hill, you and Jake kept up the banter, but it quickly turned competitive when your boards were placed on the snow.

“So what do I get if I win?” Jake asked, a suggestive tone that only you could pick up on lacing his words.

Waiting for the workers to nod that you were good to push off, you rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Anything you want,” you told him, sickly sweet. “But you won’t win, so it’ll actually be what I’ll get when I win.”

Jake’s eyes turned up in a smile you couldn’t see because of his adjusted scarf, but you heard him reply, “Anything you want,” just before the worker told you you could go.

As fast as you could, you dug your boots into the snow and pushed yourself down the hill like a little, snow-dwelling frog. Jake was still hanging out in your peripheral, right next to you, and you began to think there might be some merit to his words about goggles, with the spray that occurred as the hill dropped to be steeper and your sled skidded across pillowy white drifts that felt like icy needles on your face.

Perhaps it was because you had to close your eyes against the elements, or maybe your focus shifted as you felt like you’d fly right off the course and into the parking lot, but you didn’t notice Jake converging in on you until his muffled voice was inches away and he was reaching out a hand to stop the collision.

“Jake!” you squealed, trying to muscle him away from you. But with his efforts clashing with yours, you only succeeded in swinging him out in front of you, so that he was going down the hill backwards and you were the only one who saw the absolute trainwreck of a stop that was evolving. 

The huge snowdrift at the bottom of the hill acted as a stopper, and if a rider hadn’t lost enough momentum by the time they reached it, they’d either continue to sled up and then succumb to gravity, or they would shoot forward into the snow if the sled got caught before it went up.

With your combined weight, either way was gonna hurt.

The sleds slowed as the incline leveled out, but it wasn’t enough, and as soon as you hit the snowdrift, Jake tumbled off abruptly as the nose of the sled caught a compressed lip of ice from where it had been compacted by many sledders before you. And although his hands were ripped from yours, you still followed, giggling all the way.

“That was a softer landing than I had imagined,” you cackled breathlessly, taking deep breaths against the puffy material of Jake’s coat. His arm encircled your waist, and with a quick shake of his head, he dislodged the scarf from where it had been wrapped around his nose and lips.

“Soft because you landed on me,” he accused with a little laugh, digging his fingers into the layers that hid you.

Not wanting to be run over by other sledders, you got up off of him and held out your hand, which Jake took gratefully. “What do you mean? You’re all hard man muscle,” you drawled jokingly. “I was lucky you were wearing that big ol’ coat, or I probably would’ve broken something.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jake snorted, grabbing the stings of both sleds and hauling them out of the way.

He was quiet as you made your way back to the path leading up to the top of the hill, and you gently caught his elbow. “Sorry I crushed you there,” you apologized, not really thinking he was mad at you, but to hear his voice again. You knew he likely just didn’t have anything to say, but having woke up on the wrong side of the bed, you wanted to make sure he was actually having a good time and wasn’t just putting on a brave face for you. “We can go a few more times and then blow this popsicle stand if it traumatized you too much.”

Jake glanced at you, brows raised as he took in your offering. You knew the second the lightbulb went off because he scooted off to the side of the trail and looped the sled strings around his arm so that they wouldn’t slide away back down the hill, and then grabbed your hand. “Hey, I’m having fun,” he claimed, genuine happiness softening his features in a way that made you relax for the time being.

“I know!” you assured, maybe a little too quickly, as anything less would make you feel foolish for doubting Jake’s emotional state. Jake picked up on that and made sure you were holding his gaze before he ran a cold, slightly damp finger down your nose in an affectionate gesture.

He put on his best sweet voice, sleepy and a little raspy just the way you loved. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to plan this,” he said sincerely as tendrils of winter began to settle between the gaps of your layers now that you weren’t actively struggling up a steep hill and getting your body warm with exertion. “I appreciate you putting up with me more than you know.”

Sufficiently reassured that Jake was happy, you took your sled from his arm. “I don’t put up with you. I love you just the way you are,” you said mischievously. “Even when you wake up grumpy and leave me without cuddles after blowing my back out.”

You took off up the hill, leaving Jake with a shocked expression that quickly turned offended. “I did not! And what happened to ‘there are children around?’”

You laughed as he chased you as quickly as he could with clunky snow boots on. In your opinion, the sledding date was most certainly going to turn out a success.

~~~

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

Santa Baby

On the seventh day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

One very flirty mall Santa...and that's about it!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Santa Baby" by Eartha Kitt

Trope: Falling In Love With a Mall Santa

~~~

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: None!

Words: 1.3k

~~~

“I think Santa is trying to hit on me,” you whispered to your friend, meandering down the busy corridor of the mall, just window shopping as you watched last-minute gifters scramble to find what they were looking for.

They looked around, not seeing any jolly old men in red suits leering at you. Or at all, really. “Um…what Santa?” they stage whispered back, arching one perfectly-sculpted brow. “Please tell me you’re not talking about the window decals, because I don’t know how to provide that kind of mental support.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head before taking another sip of your drink. “No. Back there by that phone case cart. He definitely winked at me.”

The lip-purse of disbelief made you stick your tongue out at them, and they laughed, putting their hands up in defense. “I’m pretty sure Santa winks at everyone. Isn’t that part of the gig?”

And, well, that definitely could have been the case, now that you thought about it. “Maybe,” you sniffed haughtily. Any other time, you’d have let it be, gone on your way, and not spared it another thought. But you were bored and had nothing to do – no time schedule – so you hooked your arm in your friend’s and did a u-turn as they laughed at your pettiness.

“I believe you!” they giggled, and you smiled but didn’t stop your beeline back to where you’d locked gazes with a warm-eyed Santa Clause. 

They didn’t seem to be around when you got back to the spot, and you figured they must have meandered off to spread Christmas joy someplace else until you heard a low, “Ho-ho-ho,”From behind you, and you turned around to find the same mocha stare you’d caught sight of earlier. Something about this mall Santa was captivating, and it was made all the more noticeable now that you were faced with him.

But he didn’t seem to be looking in your direction. Instead, he was looking at your friend, asking them what they wanted for Christmas.

For a split second, you were disappointed. But then you remembered that there was nothing to be disappointed about: this was a stranger who you had no clue whether or not was a good person or a creepy old man or just doing their job. 

The disappointment dissipated as soon as he was done chit-chatting with your friend, though, because you knew flirting. Body language was practically your job, after all, and the slight tilt of his head, the way he took a half-step in, the way his voice dropped – this man was flirting with you.

Hard.

“If there was a chair around, I’d ask if you wanted to tell me from my lap, but what would you like for Christmas this year, beautiful?”

Your friend’s eyes widened, and they had to turn around slightly to keep from laughing out of shock, and you immediately embraced the smug sense of satisfaction that you’d been right.

You hummed, pursing your lips in thought as you watched those brown eyes dip in the direction of the movement, then meet yours with a mischievous twinkle that seemed rather off-brand for Santa’s usual innocent sparkle that all the stories talked about. “I don’t believe in Santa Clause anymore,” you said. “Ask me later, maybe.” 

The man’s eyes crinkled with a smile and, still doing his best to seduce you in the middle of the mall, hummed. “Does that mean I have permission to climb down your chimney tonight?” he asked suggestively, although the humor was clear in his voice. Had it not been, this fun, flirty exchange would be much creepier, and you’d likely report him to a mall security guard.

But, luckily for him, you were quite invested in the short conversation, and were willing to play along. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not looking to eat only the cookies I’ll put out?” you mused demurely, and your friend gagged out of the corner of your eye. 

Before he could answer, a group of children with parents that were encouraging them to go up to the mall’s attempt at marketing the season entered the frame, and Santa had to slip back into the much less suggestive role he was supposed to be playing. “See you later, Santa.”

You turned and flounced away, your friend at your heels. “I am…never doubting you again,” they laughed, following you all the way into another section of the mall, where you knew there was a store you liked. 

“What happened to, ‘I believe you, Y/N!’ huh?” you asked dryly, and they flicked you in the arm for the attitude. 

“Yeah, yeah, oh great Santa whisperer. Be careful of that ego – too big and it won’t fit your husband’s hat. And besides,” they sighed, looking into the windows of the shops you walked past, “If you had believed that I believed you, I wouldn’t have had to listen to that gross little exchange between you and the fat man.”

You laughed, and that particular strand of conversation fell off naturally as you entered the store and began to browse the tables, chock-full of Christmas discounts. Neither of you really had anything to buy, but it was fun looking at everything that hadn’t been snatched up by other shoppers. Still, though, every shop had its ending, and this one’s came in the form of your friend sidling up to you with puppy eyes.

“I know we just got drinks a little bit ago, but I’m hungry now. Will you come with me back to the food court?”

And far be it from you ever turning down a trip to the food court. So, back on your way you went, across the mall again to reach that sweet heaven of fast food and smoothies galore. “You get the good stuff, I’ll grab a table?” you asked, searching through more filled tables than not – all the shoppers obviously having had the same idea as you and your friend.

You finally caught sight of an empty table near the center of the food court, and listlessly made your way over to it, not really paying attention to the other patrons around you. That’s why, when a random hand darted out and caught your wrist, you tensed up, ready to use what little self-defense skills you had. But Miss Congeniality had taught you enough about the four target spots on a man’s body that you felt confident you could hit at least one. 

“What the–”

“I found a chair, beautiful. Ready to tell me what you want for Christmas?”

Though he sounded a little less sure of himself now without the fat suit and beard combo, you recognized his voice right away, and that was followed by those baby-cow brown eyes that now looked up at you from a handsome face.

“Santa!” you exclaimed, demeanor shifting once you knew it wasn’t a creep trying to assault you. “You found me!”

“Jake, actually,” he chuckled, motioning to the food on his tray. “I’m not on the clock, and if I have to answer to ‘Santa’ one more time today, I’m gonna turn into the Grinch.”

Studying his face, you admired his high-set cheekbones and the way his long hair, tied up in a bun, framed his face with the fallen tendrils. Breathtakingly handsome. You knew he wasn’t a creepy old flirt under that damn costume.

You hummed, noticing that there were three extra seats at his table. “But that would mean I couldn’t touch you even with a 39 and a half foot pole,” you pouted.

“Then get a 40 foot one and I can whisper my number through it that way.” Jake leaned back, and even if he wasn't dressed as Santa any longer, his lap still looked mighty tempting to sit in.

Across the food court, you saw that your friend only just got to the counter – you figured you had some time, and it wasn’t every day you accidentally fell in love with a mall Santa, so you sat down across from him, looking him dead in the eye. “You know, I think I’d rather take my chances.”

~~~

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

Alright party people, it's time!

This year's voting fun is in a bit of a different format since there are a few more choices added, which are:

Type of relationship: you get to pick! Fem reader, male reader, slash, or throuple, since I had a few requests for non-traditional pairings

The slash or throuple pairing for further clarity on what you want

This poll is in multiple sections! It was the only way to do it without making it unnecessarily convoluted, but there are only 12 tropes, still.

I would REALLY REALLY appreciate it if got as much engagement as last year, because that was super fun! And I have about 3x the followers now, so it should be pretty easy getting numbers to participate, but that's up to YOU!!!

Voting will go until Saturday, and it will be linked on my pinned Masterlist for anyone who wants it!

HAPPY VOTING!!!

#greta van fleet fics #tropemas 2022 #12 days of tropemas 2022 #sam kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x reader #danny wagner x reader #jake kiszka x reader #gvf slash #gvf smut #gvf fluff #gvf angst

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Tropemas 2022 starts tomorrow!

I’ve intended for it to go from the 11th to the 23rd but you all really wanted smut for the prompts and I cannot wrote super short smut😂 so I’m still working on a few and will try to keep on schedule for all our sakes!

Happy reading!

#tropemas 2022 #greta van fleet fics #12 days of tropemas 2022

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Uhm, blame it on the mistletoe was easily one of the hottest smuts I’ve ever read

Why thank you, darling!

I’ve felt I had to keep up with my fellow smut writers in this fandom😂 And if you liked that one, Tropemas is about 3/4 smut this year, so I hope you like the rest of what’s coming!

#asks #greta van fleet fics #12 days of tropemas 2022 #tropemas 2022

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Only one more day to vote!!

Get them in while you can!

#greta van fleet fics #12 days of tropemas 2022