#sam kiszka fanfiction

[builtbykittie]

Dirty secrets

S.f.k x f!reader

summary: a movie night with your best friend takes a drastic turn after walking in on his insufferable roommate.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, enemies to lovers-ish, SMUT, mentions of masturbation, fingering, slapping, overstimulation, oral(m & f rec), unprotected sex (you know better), sam is kind of an asshole, multiple orgasms

A/N: once again not edited because I'm lazy... Sorry for any mistakes!! Enjoy!

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"Heyy beautiful!" Danny smiles, holding the front door open with a wide grin.

"Hi Daniel," you grin, holding out your arms for a hug. You have to admit, you're excited to finally get to spend time with him at his place. You've purposefully avoided going to Danny's house ever since he and Sam moved in together, so most of the time you'd be at bars or parties.

Sam had gone through a breakup not very long ago, he didn't want to stay at his house and moved out. At first, it was just until he got over her and found a new place, but he gets over girls questionably quick and it doesn't seem that he's moving out any time soon. At least not until he moves on to the next girl.

The second you saw that Sam's car was missing from the driveway, you sat up in your seat. You hoped that Sam might've taken off once Danny told him you'd be over. The thought of him being so petty that he leaves makes you giggle, until you remember you'd do the exact same. Is it childish? Absolutely. But maybe you're allowed to be not so mature for once.

But your hopes are crushed as Danny leads you into the house.

"I know you and Sam... aren't the greatest friends," he pauses "but he's at the store getting food. He'll be back sometime soon." You stop in your tracks, all color draining from your face. "What?" is all you can get out.

After a moment, you finally collect your words. "Danny I thought it was gonna be just us?" You try your best to seem calm and act mature, but the red tint covering your entire body tells otherwise. "Y/N, I'm sorry. If I had told you any sooner you wouldn't have come," Danny says, further fueling the fire that is your temper.

He can tell you're about to say something and stops you. "Sam was supposed to be out but after I told him what was going on he got defensive and insisted on staying here," Danny shrugs, looking defeated. You can tell they got in a little argument over this and you decide not to go too hard on him, even though he failed to tell you you'd be hanging out with your sworn enemy. The man at the core of all your arguments.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought it was gonna be just us. I wish it was," he offers you a smile, but it doesn't help. It makes no sense. Why would Sam of all people want to stick around? To torment you? To show you that this is also his house and he's allowed to be around? He does help Danny pay, after all.

It takes about half an hour of scrolling through streaming sites and saying no to every suggestion to finally decide on a movie. Sam still hasn't returned.

The two of you sit around for another thirty minutes waiting for his return, but it doesn't come. Maybe he really did take off. "Let's just start the movie," Danny finally suggests, you didn't want to say it in case he'd take it as you being upset over Sam, which you are.

You grab a blanket, bringing your feet to your side and cuddling up to his arm. The movie starts, and about ten minutes pass until Sam is finally walking through the door. The second you see him you roll your eyes, already blocking out whatever dumb excuse he has for his tardiness.

But he doesn't say anything, just walking over to the opposite side of the room from you and dropping the bag of food on the coffee table. "Jesus, took you long enough," Danny pauses the movie. "We started the movie, hope you don't mind.

"I do, actually," Sam says as a matter of fact. You try your best not to just get up and walk out. Or scoff at him. Or let your emotions get the best of you. Danny just looks at you, silently asking if it's okay to rewind. "I don't care. It's only ten minutes," you say rather bitterly, deciding to avoid as much conflict as possible.

Oh, but that stupid face of Sam's drives you crazy. He's got a smug smile playing on his lips, looking right at you. Heaven only knows how badly you want to get up and slap him right in his dumb, pretty little face.

Something about Sam is he thinks that because he's attractive that he can be an asshole. Because he's attractive, life is 10x easier. Getting a girlfriend is incredibly easy, everyone is nice to him, and he always gets his way.

He never really did anything to you, besides being an asshole. You just hated his pretty privilege, attitude, and presence. Something about him just being around puts you in a bad mood. Drove you crazy. The sight of him. The smell of his cologne. The sound of his voice.

And maybe you were attracted to him. Maybe that's what made you hate him the most.

You tried to ignore him. To enjoy the movie, but you just couldn't. Sam's presence is all too distracting. Danny attempts to break the tension by commenting on the movie but that fails miserably, perhaps even making it worse at points.

Finally, Sam gets up and storms off to his room, his cheeks bright pink. "Jesus Christ," Danny sighs, stretching his arms out. You'd be a lot happier if he hadn't left at the last couple of minutes.

"Hey, Danny can I stay here tonight? It's pretty late and I don't wanna drive home half asleep," you yawn, sitting up and stretching. "Yeah, I just gotta be somewhere in the morning so," he sits up slightly "you done with the movie?"

You feel bad because the entire movie you sat there annoyed and in a bad mood, but it was long and you're tired "Yeah." You stand up, folding the blanket you used "Should I just stay here on the couch or...?"

"Oh, no. There's that guest room by Sam's. If you go down that hall it's the one right across from his. Got its own bathroom, remember?" he yawns, turning the television off, followed by the lamps surrounding you.

"Okay I'm going to bed," he mumbles, placing a hand on your head and ruffling up your hair. "Goodnight, Danny," you place a quick friendly peck on his cheek and pad to the kitchen. You're practically dying of thirst, grabbing a glass from his cupboard and filling it with cold water.

You sit there silently on his counter and sip your water, listening to the faint rustle coming from Danny's room as he gets ready to go to sleep. Slipping off the counter, you gently discard the glass and find the hall that hosts the guest room. You were positive you knew which room it was, but now that you're standing at the entrance of the dark hallway, you have no idea which one it is.

There are three rooms. One on the right side, one on the left, and one at the end of the hall. It occurs to you that you have no idea which room is Sam's. You listen for any sign of life in the rooms, listening to which side it may be coming from. Very faintly, you hear a soft groan, but you can't decide which room it may have come from.

You hear it again, this time you're sure it was from the right, so you head for the left. Just to be sure, you stop and listen again, but you hear nothing, so you turn the knob and open the door.

Instead of finding an empty room with a cold bed, you find shirtless Sam sitting lazily in a sofa chair. His head is thrown back, hair clung to his neck, lips parted, and cheeks bright pink. It takes you a moment to process what you're seeing, even then you can't seem to look away. His hand swirls around his impossibly hard, angry cock as he mouths something you can't quite understand.

His head snaps over to you, movements slowing down but not stopping. It feels as if you're in a daze, your eyes fixated on his sweaty body and your mouth slightly open. "Get the fuck out," he blurts, his voice rough as if he'd been choking it back.

You practically run out, pulling the door but not fully closing it. You stop in the kitchen, trying to process what just happened. Trying to calm yourself down, you grab the same glass from earlier and pour yourself more water, cupping some in your hands and splashing your face with it.

You throw back the drink, chugging the cold liquid and giving yourself a brain freeze. For a while, you stand there fidgeting with the cold glass and staring at nothing. All you can think about is the way he looked, all red and sweaty. Your mind wanders to his cock, the way his hand glided along the incredible length.

You're startled out of your daze once you hear the sound of footsteps in the kitchen. You spin around to find Sam, still shirtless but with boxers on that fail to hide his bulge.

He angrily stares at you for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sam I- I'm sorry I didn't kn-" you start to stammer, but he cuts you off. "Don't fucking tell anyone, Y/N," he takes a step closer to you. You frantically nod your head, finding yourself motionless against the island as Sam slowly moves closer and closer to you. "Say it. Tell me you won't tell anyone," Sam's voice slightly raises, but still quiet enough to not wake Daniel.

"I- I won't tell anyone, I promise," you practically whine, cowering away from him. "How do I know you won't use that big fucking mouth of yours, hm?" Now his face is only inches from yours and although you're trying your best to avoid his face, he forces you to look at him.

For a moment, you both stand there, silently staring at each other. Your entire body is flushed, the tension is palpable, and the silence is loud.

One of his large hands finds the waistband of your shorts and dips past it, your breaths growing heavier as the rough tips of his fingers begin to trace your hip bone. "Sam.." you mutter, grabbing his wrist, but he slaps you away.

A throbbing sensation pounds at your core, a feeling you know all too well. You hate it. You hate it so much you just wanna slap him. You've fallen into his trap.

But at the same time, you need him. You need him so bad it's embarrassing.

His hand reaches your panties, and you can't help but grab onto the counter behind you, looking down at where his hand is in your shorts. "Look at me," he says roughly, the hand not teasing at your panties coming up to grab your chin, forcing you to make eye contact.

A soft, whiney breath escapes your open mouth once his two middle fingers press against your needy clit. "Yeah, bitchy girl likes that, doesn't she?" Slowly, his fingers begin to massage your clit through your panties, looking into your eyes.

You can't nod, you can't let him know he's right. But even without flat-out telling him yes, he still knows. He can tell by the way your hips buck against his hand, the way you softly moan, and the way your mouth falls open at the smallest movement.

"Doesn't she?" His voice comes out rough, startling you. His finger hooks under the side of your panties. "If you say no, I'll let you go to bed," he slowly moves the fabric to the side. He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear "if you say yes, I'll give you what you want. Spoil you. Give you something you don't deserve."

His voice sends a shiver up your spine, freezing you in place. He slots his fingers between your folds, just barely brushing against your clit, eliciting an embarrassing whine. He has his answer. He knows. He just wants to hear it.

"Sam," you start with the intention to protest, but quickly realize it's no good once he circles your entrance with his middle finger. "Oh fuck," you struggle to keep your voice a whisper.

It takes you a moment to collect your words and put them into a proper sentence. "Yes," you start, but the tip of his finger just slightly slipping into your entrance interrupts you. It doesn't take long for you to realize that you're not gonna be able to get that sentence out, watching as a smirk grows on his stupid face and his eyes become unbelievably dark.

"Good girl," Sam purrs into your ear, leaning even closer and taking the shell of it between his teeth. That alone could make you whine, so when he shoves his two middle fingers into you, a cry flies past your lips.

His brows furrow and the hand not toying with you clamps over your mouth. His fingers curl harshly up into you before he slides the digits out of you and brings them up to his lips. That pounding at your core grows even worse as you watch him take the fingers into his mouth, licking up your juices and releasing them from his mouth with a pop.

The hand over your mouth moves to be prying your jaw open, shoving his fingers into your mouth. He closes your mouth around the digits, forcing you to taste the mix of your juices and his saliva and you start to gag on his fingers as he shoves them further and further into your mouth.

By the time he finally takes them out of your mouth, you're practically gasping for air, the tips of his fingers keep your tongue sticking out of your mouth. To your surprise, he leans in, his mouth incredibly close to yours for a moment before he sticks his tongue out and licks yours.

You suck in a loud gasp at the action, and you hate yourself for how much you enjoyed it. He hums, dropping his hands to the small of your back, licking along your jawline and sucking a the soft flesh into his mouth. "S- Sam," you whine, trying to push him away but to no avail.

"Don't do that," you push again, your brows knitting together. The last thing you want is to wake up with ugly purple splotches covering your neck. He simply huffs a laugh and you feel him smile against your skin before he takes the flesh between his teeth.

He lifts that same hand up back to your mouth and once again practically shoves his fingers down your throat. You let out a cry of surprise, your eyes growing comically large as you realize how loud it was.

Before you can even blink, Sam takes his fingers out of your mouth, raising his hand up and letting it come down against your cheek. You try to stifle the yelp that threatens to spill past your lips, but you're not very successful. The stinging sensation that follows hurts so good.

His wet fingers squeeze your cheeks and he leans in, his face mere centimeters from yours. "Y/N, you make one more noise, and I'm taping your mouth shut. Got it?" His dark, lust blown eyes stare so intensely into yours that you just want to curl up into a ball and shrink in size.

He lets go of your cheeks and you frantically nod your head. A smirk grows on his lips at your response, his hand slowly making it's way down your torso till it reaches the waistband of your shorts. He uses his thumb to pull the band, creating an opening for his fingers to meet your core.

His other hand comes back up to your mouth, and you whine against his palm at the pressure. Thank God for his hand, because the whimper that slips past your lips once his fingers reach your core could've easily woken anybody near. He's staring into your eyes, but his gaze narrows and his brows furrow in annoyance at every single squeak you fail to hide.

He spreads your arousal around your folds, bringing it up to your clit and drawing small circles over the needy bud. Your hand flies to his wrist, digging your nails into the soft flesh as his fingers speed up against your clit. Every time your eyes wander off or your eyelids start to flutter shut, he forces you to keep your eyes on him.

So many emotions rush through you. Anger. Annoyance. Lust. Frustration. Desire. He's driving you crazy, and he loves it. Every single whine you let out, every time you squeeze him, every time your knees threaten to buckle, puts a smile on his stupid smug face.

He hates you. You hate him. For some sick reason it intensifies your desire for him more than words could ever explain. And he'd be a complete and utter liar if he said he didn't feel the same.

You hate it so much you could cry, but at the same time you can't get enough. You couldn't be able to walk away if you wanted to. He's too alluring. His body is like a magnet.

Your eyes roll back into your head, involuntarily bucking your hips against his hand. Sam lets out a low chuckle at your reaction and presses against your clit. "Yeah, that's right. Feel my fingers. They feel good, huh little slut?" He comes down to your neck, biting the flesh as his fingers speed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You frantically nod your head, grinding against his fingers. Those skilled hands of his work deliciously over your poor sensitive clit and your whines against his hand grow louder. You don't know how much longer you can go before you're sent hurdling over the edge.

A pressure builds right below your belly button and its getting harder and harder to keep your voice down. Even muffled by his hand you're still embarrassingly loud. Your knees buckle and your thighs tremble, his fingers show no mercy for your bundle of nerves as he hums against your neck.

It's just his fingers, but they're so skilled. So incredibly experienced. You throw your head back, mumbling profanities against his hand, ultimately coming out inaudible. As your pleasure intensifies, so does his pace. So does his pressure against the sweet sensitive bud.

"Yeah that's it, cum for me doll," his fingers move from your clit and effortlessly slide into your entrance, flicking against a soft spot. His hand around your mouth forces your head up to look at him. Your eyes widen and you let out an incredibly loud whimper against his hand as that band of pleasure snaps.

"Such a good little whore," he comes down to whisper against your neck, and you feel his shoulders bounce. He's giggling. His fingers don't slow down, and his thumb starts to play with your clit.

You violently shake your head against his hand, your eyes wide as you fight against him. Despite your efforts, he doesn't stop. In fact, he speeds up. Your eyes prick with tears and you watch as he sinks to his knees in front of you.

The hand that was covering your mouth slowly slides down your body, stopping at your navel "take your shirt off." Your brows knit together and your eyes flick to the direction of Daniel's room, but you do as he says. Slowly, you lift the hem of your shirt, hooking your fingers under your bra as you go. Sam's eyes study every second. Every inch of your torso. He watches carefully as you lift the thin fabric over your head and it drops to the floor.

His hand is still toying with your cunt, the other starting to slowly pull down your shorts and panties. As your clothes go lower down your body, so do his kisses. His lips start at your belly button, then slowly move down till they're right at your slit.

Now you're completely exposed. Daniel could walk in at any second and see you and Sam like this. For some reason, the thought goes straight to your cunt, turning you on even more.

His breath is warm against your heat, fueling the fire inside of you. Suddenly, a yelp slips out of your mouth once his tongue finds your clit. His dark eyes angrily flick up to yours and you clamp your own hand over your mouth.

His tongue dances so delicately around your folds, tasting you as if you're the sweetest honey he's ever had. Your entire body shudders, the feeling of his sweet tongue over your overstimulated clit sends shocks of electricity through your body.

His fingers move in sync with his tongue, his other hand squeezing your thigh. Your thighs are trembling and shaking at an immense speed, your knees threatening to completely give out. You're already there. His fingers curl up into a sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. You've gotten over the overstimulation, now you're falling over the edge.

You let out a cry against your hand as your orgasm clouds your head for the second time in a row. Sam withdrawals his fingers from you just in time, because suddenly your legs give out from underneath you and you're collapsing in his lap.

He lets you sit there for just long enough to find your composure before he's forcing you both up. Once he's on his feet, he grabs your hair in a bundle and pulls you up to meet him.

A surprised whimper falls past your lips once he spins you around so that your back is flush to his chest. One arm wraps around your body at your bust, the other holds your ass firm against his body. "Feel that?" His low voice sends a shiver up your spine as he whispers into your ear. "Feel my cock against your pretty little ass?" He presses harder against you.

"This little problem," he growls "do you have any idea how annoying it is?" He wiggles his hips against you, and you feel that pounding return to your core. "Now you're gonna help me fix it. You're gonna take every inch of my cock like the little slut you are."

You don't try to hide the soft, breathy moan that falls past your lips at his words. Your entire body becomes flushed a deep red color, so intense to the point that it starts to give you a headache. Without warning, he's sweeping you off your feet and carrying you off to his room, your clothes still on the kitchen floor.

Everything happens in mere seconds. He's practically running to his room, sending the door flying open and throwing you on the bed. He eagerly climbs on top of you, marveling at your naked body. He leaves a trace of kisses down torso, sucking the skin of your hip into his mouth.

He gets up, frantically closing and locking the door. He turns back to you, sliding his boxers down his legs, his cock springing free. He tossed the fabric off from around his feet and takes himself in his hand. The sight drives you mad. His long, hard cock in his large hand. Just so eager to feel you. Begging for pleasure. You can see every vein, even from where you are. He's so turned on it's unbelievable.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the flesh at the sight of him. His brows are furrowed as he stares at you, his large hand starting to slowly pump his length. It takes everything in you to not give in and touch yourself, the pounding at your core has become so incredibly unbearable just the slightest touch would break you.

Silently, he walks to you, his angry pink tip dripping with precum. "Sit up," he demands, still stroking himself at such a slow pace that it makes you wince. You do just as he says, not even bothering to think about how desperate you probably look.

Sam slowly crawls onto the bed, moving up so that his knees are on each side of your thighs and you're face to face with his cock. He doesn't even give a warning or anything before he grabs your hair in a bundle and forces your mouth onto him. You're just lucky he didn't force his entire length down your throat.

You quickly adjust to his thickness and start to glide your tongue along his cock, his hand guiding you. Sam lets out a breathy noise and his grip on your hair tightens once you start to speed up. "Fuck- that's it, Y/N," he mutters, feeling your mouth as you suck harder around his cock.

His hips start to buck forward, making his cock tickle the very back of your throat. You take him as far into your mouth as you possibly can, your eyes filling with tears at every thrust of his hips. You pull back, wrapping your hand around his cock, squeezing him tight as you start to lap at his slit. His head falls back and strings of profanities escape his plump pink lips, you know he won't last much longer like this.

The hand around his cock starts to stroke along his length, not once loosening your grip as you tease his angry tip. "Oh fuck-" he blurts, his voice rough and his hips jutting forward at the sensation. His hands tug harshly at your hair, and you use it as encouragement, every pull of your hair you reward, sucking harder or stroking faster.

It's almost humorous how fast you drive him to the edge, every profanity in the dictionary is flying past his lips and he's bringing you to tears with how hard he's pulling your hair. Suddenly, he forces your hand off of him and grasps the back of your head, practically shoving his cock down your throat. He thrusts once, and that's all it takes for his hot release to spurt into the back of your throat.

For a few moments, he keeps you there, forcing you to swallow every last drop of him. "Shit-" he speaks, out of breath. "Where'd you learn that?" He removes himself from you, but he doesn't give you enough time to answer before he's forcing you around onto your stomach. His calloused fingertips grab at the supple flesh at the back of your thighs, forcing your legs open.

A loud, surprised moan escapes your lips as his fingers just barely touch your cunt. He collects your arousal on his fingertips, spreading it around your core. "Jesus Christ," he groans "you're so fucking wet." The pillows stifle the moans and whimpers that you make at the slight touch.

"So fucking horny," His fingers start to massage your clit, but before you can even begin to enjoy it, he moves his hand to slap your ass, eliciting a loud yelp. "So needy. Wouldn't wanna have to make you beg for it, would I?" he comes down, and you gasp as he starts to place open mouth kisses to your ass, his tongue lapping at the red skin.

"Please, Sam," you practically cry into the sheets, clawing the fabric. He simply just snickers at your plead, continuing to kiss everywhere but the area you need him to touch the most.

"Sam," you whine, but he's just ignoring you. "Sam Kiszka I swear to fucking god," you say harshly, moving your head so that he can hear you clearly. You feel him huff a laugh against your inner thigh, "fine. If you want it so bad." You let out a sigh, a little squeak following it once his tongue reaches your core.

He circles your entrance with his tongue, the very tip of it prodding you. He repeats this until you're a sweaty mess, your hair clung to your neck, your thighs shaking from trying to create any sort of friction, and your hands grasping onto the sheets for dear life. You can't form a sentence, every word you try to speak just comes out as a squeaky whimper and you can tell he's enjoying this 10x more than you.

You let out a squeaky sigh once he pulls back, and he brings his cock to your entrance. He slides his tip through your core, groaning as he feels the wetness of your folds around him. Pathetic moans roll off your tongue and you try to clamp your thighs around his lower body, but he slaps the back of your thigh and pries your legs apart.

A loud, whiney cry rips through your chest as he sinks into you, and the sting of his cock stretching you out without warning robs you of any self respect you had left. "Oh- fuck," Sam groans, bottoming out inside you and staying there for a moment. You claw at the sheets, a yelp escaping your mouth once he starts to mercilessly thrust into you.

One deep and intoxicating thrust, then another, then another until he's worked up the perfect pace that drives you mad. "Oh Sam- fuck," you cry, arching your back into the bed. "Shit, Y/N," Sam mutters, having to practically rip your hands off the sheets to hold them behind your back.

You cry his name at a particularly sharp thrust, and curse yourself for how much you're enjoying it. He feels too good, you hate it. You hate the fact that you're just like every other girl he's hooked up with. But most of all, you hate the fact that you denied him for so long. Forced down those dirty thoughts that would surface in your mind about him. "Yeah, feels good doesn't it, little slut?" He punctuates his words with sharp movements.

You fail at trying to form a sentence. Every time you open your mouth, a pathetic moan falls past your swollen red lips. You hear him snicker behind you, and the hand not firmly holding your hands behind your back moves to your ass. He grabs at the supple flesh, kneading it in his hands as he fucks his anger out on you.

"yes," you cry out "so fucking good, Sam." You know Daniel can absolutely hear, but you're past the point of caring. "I've seen the way you look at me. You try to act like you don't touch yourself thinking of me but really, you're just as bad as the rest of them. Just dying to let me use you like the little whore you know you are." Sam starts to go even deeper, as if that was even possible, his tip is practically brushing against your cervix. And oh how he's so right.

"holy fucking-" you're on the verge of screaming, tears pricking your waterline once again. "God, who would've known you're so filthy?" You hear the grin in his voice, and his hand grasps your ass so hard you're sure you'll wake up to bruises. "I mean, really. Letting me use you like this. Cumming all over my hands in the kitchen," He breathes, and you can tell he's struggling to keep a steady voice and form coherent sentences of his own.

"You know, Daniel could've walked in at any time. Saw you acting like the little fucking whore you are for me," he sends a sharp thrust into you, hitting a part of you that you didn't even know someone could reach. "But I bet that just turned you on even more, huh? The thought of being so exposed in there just made you cum so hard, didn't it?" With every single word comes a rough movement of his hips, and you can't see him, but you know theres a stupid smirk playing on his face.

"Sam I- I'm gonna," you whine, clawing at his wrist. "Yeah? Little slut gonna cum?" He snickers, his pace slowing down, his thrusts becoming slower as he sinks completely into to, hitting every sweet spot known to woman kind. "Yes. Yes yes," you bite the sheets, your nails still digging into his wrists.

Your cries and moans grow unbelievably loud, intensifying with each movement. "That's it, baby, cum for me," Sam grabs your hips, lifting them up off the bed so that your ass is in the air. With one final thrust, you're coming undone. Completely unraveling beneath him. "Fuck fuck fuck," you moan, burning white flames of pleasure dancing viciously around your tummy.

Sam almost immediately pulls out, your juices dripping down your sweaty thigh. He drops your hips and you fall back down on the bed, softly moaning and whimpering as you come down from the high.

A surprised whimper slips past your lips once he grabs you by your waist and flips you around "don't think for a second that I'm done with you." He grabs you by your waist, picking you up and throwing you against the arm rest of the sofa chair you walked in on him in.

It's as if you regained consciousness because right before you hit the furniture, you brace your arms against the other side of the sofa, catching yourself. "Sam what are you-" you start, but he cuts you off. "I'm gonna make you cum as many times as I want, sweetheart," he grabs his cock, pumping slowly a few times.

"Sam I don't know if I can.." you whine, but this just makes him snicker. He ignores you, and you yelp once he thrusts into you. He doesn't wait. Doesn't give you a moment, he just starts fucking into you. He sets an intoxicating pace almost immediately, you're completely drunk off of his cock.

You repeat his name over and over like a mantra, your moans growing louder and louder with each thrust. His cock rams into you, and Sam's making sure he's going as deep into you as he possibly can. "Shit. You're so fucking-" Sam groans, but he doesn't finish his sentence. He bends over, his chin resting against your bare back and he takes the sweaty flesh between his teeth.

You claw the fabric of the sofa, the lewd sounds of your skin snapping together and your sexes mixing fill the humid air, not to mention the volume of which you're screaming his name. "So fucking dirty," he speaks breathlessly between thrusts "taking my cock like such a good girl."

He stands up again, and your forehead practically slams against the furniture. "Oh fuck me-" you cry, pushing yourself back onto his cock with shaky legs. "But you're so fucking far from that. You're the filthiest little bitch I've ever been with," he roughly thrusts into you after every single word, it's unbelievable how much stamina this man has.

"At least I know how to shut you up now," His hand wraps around your body till it finds your dripping cunt, and elicits a loud yelp once his fingers start to dance over your swollen, oversensitive cit.

"Y'know, I oughta spank you," he groans "dirty little slut." Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the feeling of his skilled fingers working your clit mixed with his cock burying itself deep into your cunt over and over drives you right to the edge. If its even possible, the roaring fire in your tummy intensifies even more.

That same fire burns at the coil of pleasure pulled tightly until it snaps in two, white electricity flowing through your limbs. Despite the fact that every inch of you is trembling and you're overstimulated to the point of tears, you still clamp around his cock, determined to beat him.

"The fuck are you doing?" He slaps your ass and pulls out in one quick motion. Your body goes limp and suddenly, you lose your train of thought. Your words fail you "I- I..." Sam stops you, grabbing you by your torso and flipping you around. "I'll cum when i decide it's time," he speaks lowly, taking your lips in a sloppy, humid kiss before dropping you into the seat.

He hasn't given you any time to cool off, he's already staring down at you with those eyes and stroking his length. "Sam I-" you stutter "Sam I don't know if I can. do another one." You knew you weren't getting out of this one, but the amused look on his face pisses you off.

"It's not that I don't want it I just-" you say rather bitterly, cutting yourself off once you become conscious of the fact that you're almost completely out of breath. "Don't worry, darling. I'll be more gentle this time," he smirks.

You take a deep breath and nod, bringing your legs up to rest on each side of the sofa. His eyes widen at your glistening core, but soon relax as a grin starts to grow on his face. He leans down, breathing heavily on your neck and taking your earlobe in between your teeth. "I still hate your fucking guts," he growls, sending a shiver up your spine.

You let out a breath at the words and reach down to grab his cock, and you start to swirl your hand around his hard length. He nips at your ear again before slapping your hand away, grabbing his cock and dragging it through your soaked folds.

Your head falls back and you grab his arm as his tip starts to tease your clit. "Sam.. please," you whine, arching your back off the arch. He moves himself to like up with your entrance, his tip just barely sinking in. Just that alone elicits whiney moans from you, so when he sinks fully into you a loud cry flies past your lips.

He almost pulls completely out before thrusting back into you, the sensation making your eyes roll back into your head. "This slutty little pussy feels so.." Sam breathes, setting the perfect rhythm. Your hands slowly snake up his body, the tips of your fingers reaching his collarbones, then moving up to the base of his neck.

His deep, slow thrusts are addictive and perfect, but you quickly realize they aren't gonna cut it. You crave more. You need more. Gentle Sam can wait for another time. "Sam... Harder."

Your hands gently wrap around his neck, squeezing slightly as his pace starts to pick up. So much for being gentle. Sam's fingers find your clit, ever so slightly putting pressure on the sensitive bud. "Look at you. Asking for more after complaining about having to fuck me again," Sam purrs, rolling his hips up into you.

"Oh fuck- right there Sam," you mewl. Every inch of your body is trembling and within minutes you're riding the edge of euphoria. "How does it feel, baby?" Sam finds a particularly sensitive spot that elicits the loudest moans and babies it, and his hand that's toying with your clit speeds up. "So fucking good," you whine, your back fully arched off the sofa.

Your moans and cries and mewls grow louder, you're not gonna last much longer. Sam's free hand presses down on your lower tummy, intensifying your pleasure. "Is my little slut close? You gonna cum, baby?" His narrow eyes staring deeply into yours.

"Fuck Sam im-" a guttural moan ripping through your chest cuts you off, and suddenly your vision blurs, your mind fogs, and burning hot white flames of pleasure flow through your limbs. "Oh shit- fuck," Sam grunts, and within seconds his hot release is spurting inside you. Warm ropes of ivory release paint your insides, the feeling making you roll your eyes back into your skull.

His thrusts and fingers slow down but don't stop, helping both you and him ride out the high. Your hands release his neck and drop to your side, the two of you stay just how you are for a while, the sounds of your heavy breathing and occasional whimpers filling the humid air.

"You know. I'm not the little slut you think I am," you roll your eyes. "Well, you certainly fuck like one. I mean, look at you," he looks down at you, and you hate to admit it but you do look filthy. Your legs are as far open as they can go and his cock is covered in your release as he slowly pulls out, juices dripping down your ass.

Your cheeks go a bright shade of red and you look down at the area "Whatever." His fingers collect the release, bringing it up to your mouth and once again forcing you to taste both yourself and him. You moan against his fingers at the taste, a smirk growing on his lips.

His fingers leave your mouth with a pop before he licks up your saliva and the rest of the juices. Sam walks off and you hear his feet pad across the kitchen, coming back with your clothes. He drops them on the floor, walking right past you to the bathroom.

He stops, realizing you're not following him "You wanna clean up or what? C'mon."

#greta van fleet #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet imagine #greta van smut #gvf smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka smut #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sfk

[holybananafuck]

Watermelon Sugar/ s.f.k

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2607

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

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LMK IF I MISSED ANY TAGS!

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🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can do it better, y’know.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

~🍉~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go team!”

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

~🍉~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything for you.”

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

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

“Just thinking about that smack from earlier,”

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

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

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

“Sam…”

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

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

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

“Please what, pretty baby?”

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

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

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

“F-faster…”

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

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

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

“Perfect spot for the hammock.”

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #greta van fluff #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #greta van fanfic #gvf smut #sam kiszka gvf #samfkiszka #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka smut #sammy kiszka #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sammy gvf #one shot #gvf fanfiction #gvfsmut #gvf fanfic #gvf #gretavanfleet

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader, Sam Kiszka x f!Reader (STAY WITH ME)

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 24.6k+ (i am so sorry)

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering: MDNI 18+ ONLY struggles with body dysmorphia/eating, heavy emotions/ talks of an absent parent, *extremely* sick & terminally-ill parent, mentions of sexually explicit scene on film being shot, anxiety/stress, stressing about college grades, worries/anxiety about failing, test anxiety, over-indulgence of alcohol (drunkenness lol), spook/haunted houses, people in scary clown makeup, mentions of jumps scares, *consensual* relations where people put their mouths in *certain places*(not full smut. yet.), ambulances, someone being wheeled out on a gurney (with a lifeless-looking body), JEALOUSLY. lots of jealousy.

a/n: i apologize for this chapter taking me literal years, lol. this one is a bit heavy & was a little hard to write at certain points. but, it's been my brainchild for over a month now & i had to be sure it was perfect before i posted it. i hope you enjoy & as always, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d'Arthur Masterlist

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The midterm pressure is now properly underway. With tests nearly everyday this week, a rigid filming schedule, work, and taking care of your mom, you’re on the edge of being worn completely thin. 

Not to mention, you’re awfully distracted these days. 

Filming has continued as normal. And you finally tackled that scene with Sam just weeks ago, and it went perfectly. Josh had a vision— to show the first fully intimate moment between the secret lovers. The first time their bodies become entangled in their heated passion. The ‘most significant image of the film in its entirety,’ as Josh had put it. 

You’d been scared. 

But after the kiss you shared with Sam, the one that moved far beyond the legendary characters you were portraying, the scene was performed to utter perfection. It was seamless; it felt completely natural. 

Something ignited within once you put the costume on; something you’ve never felt before. A new kind of assured confidence in your body that has never once exuded from you. Your body that you’ve hated since your first cognitive memory, the body that you’ve opted to shield with oversized clothes to hide yourself beneath their stitched fabrics. 

But, something happened.

After draping the thin lace over your frame, you were no longer you. You became a queen with a body worthy of being desired. 

Josh and Malachi knew just what they were doing when they chose that (extremely erotic) dress. 

For once, instead of being ashamed of your skin, you were fucking proud of it. You looked goddamn good.

And by the way Jake had been frozen solid in the door frame with his eyes locked on your exposed figure, you’d say he thought so, too. 

You’d half expected him to drop to his knees right then and there, to fully submit and hand himself over to your will. And he probably would have, had it not been for Nat physically throwing him out of the way. (Had you not been so utterly turned on in the moment, you probably would have busted out laughing at the sight.)

The scene was filmed the very next day (with tattoo makeup, of course) and you used that exact heated tension within you to perform your very best. 

When Sam saw you in the gown, his reaction was much the same as Jake’s. He was entirely transfixed by you; his eyes never diverting from your body. Not even once. 

You had belatedly decided to forgo nipple pasties, much to Natalia's surprise. There was something about the way you felt, with your breasts still hidden, but your buds peaking through the thin fabric. In a weird sense, it made you feel even more in control of your body. 

And the way Jake looked at them…

You couldn’t get his lust blown eyes out of your mind. He was, inadvertently, the reason why you felt so self assured during that scene, why you were able to give Sam such a heated performance… even if only a little. You had to credit his reaction for the help it had given you. It had been what your brain kept going back to time and again, anytime you swept the lace over your body. It was him who had helped you to have this overwhelming, new confidence when wearing the revealing piece.

(And you’d never admit it to anyone, but every time you put the costume on, you only ever thought of Jake. Not even his initial reaction—just him. When you felt sexy, he came to mind. And the thought of him alone helped your nipples to be prettily peaked for every intimate scene Josh would shoot.)

But Sam. Sam is the one who actually uses his words to reassure any unsureness you may have every single day. 

Sam is the good one. The sweet one. The brother who never fails to put a smile on your face.

“Y/n…holy fuck.” He had said as you met him on set the first day you’d worn it.

And fuck, he’d looked damn good himself. No shirt, tight satin pants of the purest white. His hair was fixed to look disheveled and tangled, framing his features and giving him a look of pure sex ridden lust. 

As heavy as the kissing scene had been, this one was levels heavier. 

According to the script, you were meant to be laid out on a bed of red satin. You, sprawled out before him, and he on his feet at the foot of the bed, admiring the vision that is the ever lasciviousness Queen Guiniverre. (The vision of you.) 

And admire you he absolutely did. 

With the same look his brother gave you the night before, sending flutters to your heart and a pulse to your core. You envisioned Jake, but you saw Sam. 

These two have entirely consumed your every thought. Sam has been in communication with you nearly every day, even outside of filming.

He conned you into giving him your number (not that it took much convincing) and he texts you, even calls you, multiple times a day. 

Just innocent small talk, usually. Something little will make him think of you and he’ll send a quick message to tell you what it was. Sometimes he’ll send a joke or two that will force a laugh out of you, along with an eye roll. However there have been a few times that he’s taken it upon himself to make sure you know just how much fun he’s having with you on this film, that he knows his body sometimes speaks his infatuation with you louder than his words ever could. 

And complain you will not. He’s a fucking dream, the sweestest man you’ve ever encountered. And so outlandishly beautiful. 

It would be strange for you to not develop feelings for him, especially given just how close and personal the two of you have become during filming. 

But,

Jake. 

He wrapped you into all of this. He showed you a side of him that you’ve yet to see since. You couldn’t deny him, although you had every reason to. 

It’s like he only wanted you to keep his promise to his twin of helping him find someone to play opposite of him (Sam, mostly, of which he clearly didn’t realize) and he only did so because you’re partners in this blessed project. Not because of who you are. 

He buttered you up, to convince you to say yes, and that was the end of it. 

Then, he went right back to his asshole ways. 

That’s why for the life of you, you can’t fathom the idea that you’ve developed much stronger feelings for him than for Sam. (Who is, obviously, the far better candidate.)

And Sam is the one who gives you the attention you deserve.

But fuck. 

The way Jake stared at you in that costume. And the way he didn’t take his fierce eyes off of you during the filming of your scene in that gown.

His jaw clenching with every kiss shared between you and Sam, his fists bunching up with each touch that connected your bodies. You heard deep, drawn signs coming from him when Sam caressed you. Furious sighs from flared nostrils. 

He ended up storming out mid scene, slamming the door so loud you all nearly jumped out of your skin. Thanks to that, you had to redo certain parts of the scene. Sam had made a joke about how he “wasn’t upset” to have to do it more than once. (And you weren’t, either.)

But not having Jake in the room made it slightly more difficult to put yourself back in the mood. His presence alone, the deep breaths filling his lungs, his stare casted on you each time you glanced his way— that was plenty of inspiration to perform your sexiest. 

But without him there, all you could do was picture him in your mind. Which you did with no problem. But it just wasn’t the same without his body in the same room as yours.

Before you left that night, you heard yet another fight commence between the twins.

“You should’ve told me it would be like this,” Jake fumed.

“I abso-fucking-lutely did, Jake. You just don’t listen worth a single shit.” 

Jake slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, “I helped you write the goddamn script and those scenes were not in there. You know that for a fucking fact.”

“Okay— so I took a little creative liberty and added a few things. I am, after all, the director for god's sake. I think I’ve earned the right. But you knew the plot, Jake. Don’t act like you didn’t,” Josh spouted. 

You’d gone to walk out the door before more was said. You felt guilty for listening, them both under the impression that you’d left. 

But you’d heard something more that kept you from fully shutting the front door on your way out. 

Sam was apparently in on this argument, too. And you’d overheard some rather interesting things regarding you— some things you haven’t been able to let go of since. 

“Just admit it, Jakey boy. You thought you would be the one enjoying all these scenes with y/n. That’s why you asked her to join the cast, isn’t it? You’re just pissed that I get to share these moments with her and not you.” 

Hearing those words come out of Sam's mouth was something you were not prepared for in the slightest.

You needed to just close the door and leave, to stop listening in on this conversation that you were most definitely not meant to hear.

But after hearing that, you just couldn’t bring yourself to take a single step. You had to hear Jake’s response. 

“That’s true isn’t it, Jake.” Josh agreed. “That’s why you’re all out of sorts with this whole thing.”

“First of all,” Jake raised his voice with yet another loud crack against the granite countertop, (His fist must’ve fucking hurt like hell that night) “I only asked her because I had to. We were assigned this ridiculous project together and I was not about to work on something alone with her.”

…that was a fucking blow to the heart.

“Secondly, Sam, I don’t give a fuck one about your special little scenes with her. What I’m pissed about is that you’ve made this entire plot about fucking, Josh. That is not the only goddamn thing that happens in the original texts.”

He did make a solid point there. But from everything he’d told you about the plot before you agreed, (which wasn’t much, if you’re being honest) that was the whole point of the film. At least to show their adulterous human desire, that their love for one another wasn’t a strong enough force that others couldn’t break their way through.

“Jesus, Josh.” You heard footsteps coming closer to where you were hidden, so you quickly made your way out the door to conceal yourself. Before fully closing it, you heard Jake say, “I don’t want to be part of a fucking x-rated film. That isn’t what I signed up for. And you’ve basically taken everything I’ve helped you with and thrown it in the trash. Why did you even ask me to help if you didn’t want to use me for anything other than your precious fucking Arthur that you’re ruining with these worthless rags you call costumes?” 

You quietly padded your way to the car as you heard Jake coming closer to the door. You felt you had heard enough, and you weren’t sure if you could mentally handle hearing much more. 

As you drove home that night, your car squeaking and rattling its way through the middle of Detroit, the sound of Jake’s words in your mind were far louder than that of your beat down Firebird. 

“I only asked her because I had to…I was not about to work on something alone with her.”

You couldn’t control the stray tears that fell down your cheeks. You’d always known that was the only reason he asked you, but hearing him say it…was something else entirely. 

At that point, you’d decided that you’re not doing this for Jake anymore. Not even for the sake of your class. 

You know it’ll get a good grade. That’s no longer a worry of yours. 

No; You’re doing it for the friends you’ve made in the process of this goddamn thing that you would regret doing if it weren’t for them. 

They way Jake’s family has treated you, especially in comparison to how he has treated you…you’re only sticking it out for them. Fuck Jake and his shit attitude that he’s given you since the first moment he met you. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You dramatically set your cold brew on the plastic table, throw your bag on the sticky floor and plant your ass so hard in the metal chair you’re sure it’ll be purple in a few hours. 

Elbows resting on the table, you let your head fall in your hands as you let out a long sigh.

“That good, huh?” Nat questions.

You peak at her through your fingers, taking in her almost apologetic smile. “I’ve not scored anything above seventy percent on a single midterm. And I still have one more to go.” 

True to her character, she pulls your hand away from your face. She’s told you before that she likes to see your full face when she talks to you— just another reason, that even in the short time you’ve known her, she’s been the best friend you’ve ever had. 

“And what is wrong with that, might I ask? Seventy percent is a C. And last I checked, that’s a passing grade,” she says with her slim fingers still held tight to your wrist.

You move your other hand away from your face as it falls limp into your lap. “I didn’t move over fourteen hours away to go to the school I’ve dreamt about since I was a child to make C’s, Nat. I want to excel. I want to make the dean's list. I want to leave my mark. I won’t be doing any of that with anything less than all A’s on my transcripts.”

She just smiles at you and softly shakes her head, a few perfect ringlets falling from her silken scarf.

“You will make your mark with or without a perfect 4.0, y/n. Your life is more valuable than a silly cumulative number that isn’t reflective of the person that you are.” She lays your hand down on the table with a soft pat against the back of it, her long acrylics leaving the gentlest, comforting scratches. “You have to stop being so hard on yourself, babe.” 

She’s absolutely right, and you know it. In the grand scheme, grades don’t matter as long as you’ve passed. But dammit– that’s just not enough for you. You can’t, you won’t accept anything lower than an A. 

You have to prove it to everyone who said you’d never make it. Everyone from your tiny hometown, everyone in this city who expects you to fail.

Everyone. Even your father who left you and your mom when things were at their outright worst. The man who cared more about his own well-being than that of you and your disabled, ill mom. You have to defy the standard, beat the odds. You refuse to become merely a product of your shitty situation. 

You have to show him. Show him that you’re worth more than he thought you were. That you can do just fine taking care of your mom and yourself. Without him. 

“It does matter, Nat. If I don’t do well now, I’ll never get accepted into a grad school and if that doesn’t happen, all of my hard work has been for nothing. I’ve proved fucking nothing.”

The sternness in your voice causes her to withdraw her hand from yours and sit herself all the way back in her chair, arms crossed in a state of defiance. “Who the hell do you need to prove yourself to? Why do you care so much about what other people think when I’m sitting right here trying to convince you that you don’t need to do that?” Her voice matches your tone perfectly, with seriousness and irritation present in her inflection. (Perhaps a bit more than you had anticipated. She’s passionate, you can’t deny that for a second.)

You pause for a moment, taking in the vast realization that you’ve never gotten that personal with Natalia on your behalf. She knows of your struggles with your body, and she’s done everything in her power to make you see yourself the way she sees you ever since you opened up to her.

She knows where you live as she’s had to pick you up and drop you off a few times for filming, so you’re sure she realizes that you live in a complex for low income, disabled tenants. She knows you leave and come back periodically if filming runs a little late, unbeknownst to her that it’s to take care of your ailing mom. But not once has she ever pried with a wandering mind. She’s been waiting for you to tell her. 

Talking about these things is just something you’re not keen on doing. It presents an awful lot about you that you wish you could’ve left in Oklahoma. 

It’s just hard. 

And it’s hard to know who you can and can’t trust, who will take advantage of you and who won’t.

But as far as Natalia goes, you’re certain you could tell her just about anything and she’d be the last person to use it against you. But that doesn’t make it any easier to say everything out loud. 

Suddenly, she stands up from her chair, the sound of the metal legs against the tile floor sending a shiver throughout your body. “W-where are you going?”

“Come on,” she responds, swigging down what’s left of her coffee. “We’re going to my car.” 

Instead of arguing, you stand up with her and gather up your things, following her as she takes quick strides towards the glass doors. 

“Why are we going to your car, again?” you ask.

“So you can tell me what you’re not telling me.” 

At first, you’re a bit confused as to why she’d prefer to go to her car to talk. But as you open her passenger door, you remember that car talks are always the best place for deep, emotional conversations to happen. That’s exactly what she wants from you, and as soon as you take residence on the black leather of her Escalade, you feel the unrelenting urge to spill it all. 

She slams the car door before adjusting body so she’s facing you. She rests her elbow on the center console, placing her face in the palm of her hand as she scans you with her chocolate eyes, waiting for you to speak. 

“It’s just…” you sigh deeply from your chest before you begin telling her everything. “I’m the sole provider now. My mom isn’t much longer for this earth,” The sting in your heart upon hearing yourself say those words feels like an electric shock to your system. Speaking them feels like pure bile leaving your mouth. But it’s true. And not saying it doesn’t make it not true. “So it’s up to me to take care of her. She doesn’t have anyone else.” 

Nat’s eyes soften at your vulnerability. Where they were once inquisitive, they’re now full of warmth and realization.

“I can’t fail her by failing myself. My education is just as important to her as it is to me. She didn’t even question it when I told her I wanted to come here for school. She showed me nothing but support, even coming with me when it was most definitely too dangerous for her to make the move. She did it anyway— she wanted to do it. She wants to see my education through as much as I do, and I’ll be goddamned if she doesn’t.”

“Is that why you go home so often? Why you can’t always stay very late for things?” she asks with a timid, sweet voice that calms your spirit a bit.

“I have to take care of her. Make her dinner, sort out her medications, make sure her oxygen tank is well tended. I’m terrified to be away from her, Nat. But she insists that I still live my life. I feel like I’d be doing her a disservice if I wasn’t, you know? But my biggest fear is that I’ll come home and she’ll be gone…and I wasn’t there to save her.” 

“Shit, y/n,” she says, hardly above a whisper. “I hate that there’s so much pressure on you, girl. What about a live-in nurse? Or home health? Is that something you could do?”

“Her insurance won’t cover a live-in, unfortunately. And there’s no way in hell we could ever afford one on my paychecks alone. Her disability plan claims she doesn’t need home health, and that is something I just don’t understand,” you respond. 

“Do you have any other family that could step in and help? What about your dad, where is he?”

You haven’t spoken of your dad since he left. You’ve hardly given him a single thought, even. The move was another way of purging him from your life completely— leaving the home you had once shared with him, getting rid of all of the stained memories once and for all. 

You know that deep down there are plenty of happy memories of him somewhere, buried, in your psyche. But after the way he just up and left you and your mom as soon as her diagnosis was confirmed, the way he left in the middle of the night with no warning and leaving you to manage it all yourself, it’s hard to muster up a single pleasant feeling towards him. 

“I wouldn’t care to know, if  I’m honest.” You chuckle rather cynically,  “The very moment he found out my mom could no longer serve his needs, that he would have to actually take care of someone for once in his goddamn life, he fucking ditched. Left over a year ago, haven’t seen nor heard from him since.”

Your life changed forever when you woke up that morning to his stuff cleaned out of the house, his oil stained spot in the driveway missing his pickup truck, and nothing but a handwritten note on the fridge that said ‘I’m so sorry, baby girl -Daddy.’

From that very moment, you became your moms entire world. Her one and only ‘person.’ It was no longer your life you were living for. She needed someone to take care of her, and the person that vowed to do that in ‘sickness and in health’ left. Just fucking left.

“He is who I have to prove myself to. That fucking asshole needs to know just how well I’ve done— how well we’ve both done without him. I don’t need him to take care of her, to get myself through school and graduate with fucking honors, and then go on to get my masters. I can do it all without him.”

Heavy tears begin to well in your tear ducts, tears that have been begging to be shed since the day he left. But you haven’t allowed yourself to cry over it. You swore to yourself that you’d be strong for your mom. 

“Y/n I–I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have asked.” She most definitely picked up on the sudden onset of your emotions. As much as you try to hold it back, you just can’t any longer. Your flushed cheeks become soaked with your tears. You're sad, but more than anything, you’re angry. Angry for you, angry for you mom. You haven’t allowed yourself to properly feel any of it. From finding out your moms terminal diagnosis, to your dad abandoning you the very next day. You haven’t done a bit of healing since. 

But something about her presence makes you feel like it’s okay to show your emotions, to at last let them come to the surface for the first time since everything has happened. 

You try to tell her it’s okay, that you actually really needed this. But the words are incoherent behind your sobs. 

She takes note and doesn’t say anything more. She reaches her arms out towards you and you lean forward, falling into her embrace. 

She rests her head on yours, her own tears falling onto your hair. Her empathy is something you treasure most in your friendship. 

She always knows the right thing to say, and she always knows when words aren’t necessary. Right now is most definitely one of those times. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“I can help whoever’s next!” You shout to the small line of students filling the lobby, each one hugging a pile of books flush to their chests as they patiently await you and Natalia, stationed at the other computer behind the desk, to lend them their study tools.

Work has been especially hectic this week as everyone is cramming in their last minute studies. Each computer designated for student use has been occupied nearly everyday this week, but even with the prominence and accessibility of the internet these days, there have been plenty of students checking out real hard backed, leather bound books as well.

As an avid reader yourself, it brings a spark of joy to your heart to see so many people still reading physical forms of literature.

You’ve loved seeing the mass array of books that have come through the counter this evening, ranging from the iconic literary classics all the way to the Fundamentals of Trigonometry.

Next in line is one you recognize from your beloved (sometimes) class on the mysterious King Arthur. 

Toney Carmichael. The six foot something, brawny, platinum blonde wide receiver for the Michigan Wolverines. And one of the most academically scattered people you’ve ever encountered. 

You’ve made up your mind that the only reason he’s taking classes is to play football. He couldn’t care less about the school aspect of it all. 

He makes the most outlandish, blatantly incorrect comments during class each week. You question how he managed to weave himself into such a high level English course. 

Your first thought: rigged. Absolutely rigged. Someone pulled some tight strings for him to be able to continue his education so he can keep his precious football schedule. 

From what you’ve heard, he’s quite good. One of the best on the team.

Not that you would know (or give the slightest shit) about a single thing to do with that area of the university. 

You’re far too ‘liberal arts’ brained to understand the intense lore behind competitive sporting. 

You fight off the urge to roll your eyes as he quickly pads his way to the edge of the counter, plopping a mass amount of books before you, one even falling behind the counter and onto your keyboard. 

“Hey, Toney,” you say, with little to no enthusiasm.

You begin scanning the ISBN tags on his books, noting that they are a cumulative of the required semester readings for your shared course, all of them pertinent to the first half of the class.

You snicker to yourself, realizing that he’s waited until the very last opportunity to read these novels before the midterm test, which is tomorrow.

This class is very reading intensive; you can’t fathom waiting until the last moment to tackle all of these incredibly difficult reads.

Nine books in, you’re finally down to the last two to scan into his account. With a limit of twelve books that can be checked out at once, he’s cutting it awfully close.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight are next, scanned in and bagged with the rest.

At last, the final novel.

It's so torn up and ragged that you can’t even make out the title on the tattered cover. 

You scan the faded tag placed on the spine; Le Morte d’Arthur. 

Not just that, but the exact one Jake had returned months ago.  The one you wouldn’t loan back to him because you had a far better version that you let him borrow in lieu. (That he also hasn’t given back yet, you suddenly remember.) You recognize it as such now, though you didn’t realize it at first. But the computer also conveniently notifies you of the last six students who had possession of the book. 

You twinge a little upon seeing the name Jacob T. Kiszka in bolded arial font on the desktop screen.

But, no matter. It isn’t Jake in front of you right now, it’s Toney Carmichael. Star football player. (Sadly.)

You finish the last few steps, placing Mr. Carmichael’s receipt with the date of return stamped on the top in his bag. 

“Here you are, Toney. Good luck on the midterm tomorrow!” you say, bidding him adieu while handing him his stuff. 

“Shit, that’s tomorrow? I thought it was Friday!”

Idiot.

“Nope, it’s tomorrow. Better get to reading,” you tell him. He flings his plastic bag of books over his shoulder and nearly sprints out of the building. Again, you ask yourself, how the hell did he manage to get enrolled in his course?

You turn your attention back to the led screen, fully intending to clear the display in preparation for the next student. You’re met with the harsh realization that a certain name is still grievously present. 

It serves as a reminder of the very night he asked you to do this confounded film for his brother. Where the very seed of his kindness was planted, only to never be watered and die in the soil with his shit personality. (That somehow still hasn’t turned you off entirely. What the fuck, y/n.)

You see a student walking up out of your peripheral, and before you can tell them you’ll help them in just a moment so you can finish ridding your computer of Jake’s name, they slyly place a venti cold brew next to your hand situated on the mouse. 

You pause your task to snap your head up to see who in the hell brought you your go-to drink.

What’s the perfect distraction from Jake? His charming and equally stunning younger brother.

And god, stunning doesn’t even begin to describe the vision before you.

This is the first time you’ve ever seen his hair pulled back, tied in a loose messy bun sitting at the nape of his neck with a few strayed pieces framing his cheekbones. 

He’s wearing the most lovely blue button up embellished with cream colored flowers, left partially unbuttoned on the top to frame a dainty silver charm hanging from a matching chain, complete with a black and white canvas belt bag draped across his midsection. 

Fuck, the way that these colors accentuate his flawless complextion is rather elating. Your heart jumps a few extra beats when he makes eye contact with you.

“Sammy! What are you doing?” you inquire with an embarrassingly huge smile plastered to your face.

He flashes a smile that matches yours, the corners of his mustache curling with his sweet grin, his round eyes crinkling above his cheekbones.

“Figured you could use this,” he says while nudging the cold brew a bit closer to you. “Oat milk and extra vanilla, right?”

You pick up the drink and take a long swig of the cold coffee, sighing in relief at the feeling of the caffeine entering your worn down system. 

“I most definitely needed this. How did you know this is my favorite?” you ask him, taking another sip.

He looks to Natalia who’s standing near you behind the counter and throws her a sly wink. “A little bird told me.”

You turn your head to look her in the eye, while she quickly looks away and pretends to busy herself with something useless.

“Natalia Dolores! Are you the little bird?” you say with a shocked tone, a massive smile threatening to make an appearance as she attempts to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Woah, she middle named you, Nat. This is serious,” Sammy jokes, his lips tucked in a patronizing grin and his eyebrows hiked.

“Don’t look at me, girl! He’s the one that asked!” She wags her finger towards Sam, her other hand planted firm on her popped out hip. 

It’s staggering how the smallest act of genuine kindness, something as simple as surprising someone with their favorite coffee, carries a meaning far beyond the gesture itself.

Also, it just so happens that coffee is one of the direct lines to your heart. 

You snicker at her response as you shift your attention back to Sammy, catching the twinkle in his drowsy, honey eyes as they set their gentle gaze on you.

You can see so much behind them, so much that he isn’t afraid to hide from you. His unfeigned honesty is captured perfectly beyond his feather lashes.

But the only thought pounding from the screaming voice in your head…why couldn’t it have been Jake instead?

You quickly force yourself to shove that thought down immediately. It’s quite simple; Sammy gives a shit, Jake doesn’t. It’s time to put an end to your sad, unreciprocated little crush on Jake. His disinterest is unequivocally clear, he’s even said so himself. (Even though he had no idea you were listening in.) So why bother with your silly infatuation any longer when there’s someone far better giving you the attention you deserve?

“Thank you, Sammy,” you tell him, the feelings for his insolent brother waning as you catch the genuinity behind Sam’s smile. “You’re truly my knight in shining armor.”

“You’re quite welcome, your majesty,” he counters with a regal bow of his head. 

You smile at him as you take another sip of your gifted liquid gold, humming at the bitter sweetness as it falls down your throat. Perfection in a cup.

“You know,” Sam resumes, shifting his body to get a good look of the old building in which he resides. “I’ve never actually stepped foot in this library. Not even once. It’s quite beautiful.”

Nat, still standing behind you, huffs a rather obnoxious laugh that makes you jump a bit. “That’s because you’re never on campus, Sam. It’s a wonder to me that you manage to pass all of your classes.”

“Geniuses rarely have to try,” he retaliates, placing his elbow on the counter in front of him, resting his head condescendingly in his opened palm. “Which one of you ladies wants to give me the grand tour?”

“That’s a big fat hell no for me. Y/n, show the man around. I’ll take care of the front desk,” Nat says, logging herself back into her computer on the opposite end of yours. “But make it snappy. And don’t forget we’re closing early tonight! I want him out of here by 5:15 and not a second later.” she says with a cunning grin. 

You grab your coffee and walk around the other side of the counter, giggling as you get a look at Sam’s full outfit. He paired his rose patterned shirt with gray drawstring pants, covered in contrasting white stripes. 

 Sam matches your giggle, asking “What’s so funny?”

“Sammy,” you say through your almost uncontrollable chuckles, “you look like the fabric section of a craft store.”

Another boisterous laugh echoes from behind you, as Natalia chimes in with her agreement. 

Sam looks down at this outfit with knitted brows, smirking to himself while drawing a deep breath to say, “Well, jokes on you both. I happen to love the fabric section at craft stores.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“And this is my absolute favorite spot; the British Literature section.” You tug on Sammys arm to pull him closer as he smiles at your unbridled passion. “You’ll find all your British classics here. The Once and Future King, The Mists of Avalon, The Canterburry Tales,” You list them off as you read the titles off the exposed spines, stopping once you get to one you’re sure he’ll be intrigued by. “And, of course, The Adventures of Sir Lancelot The Great.” You pull the book from the shelf and flip through the first few pages, quickly noting the intense worn smell emitting from the bound paper. It’s clear that this book has been sitting here for quite some time. “God, I just love this smell. I could make a candle out of it.”

Sam gently takes it from your hands and takes a whiff himself, making a face that tells you he’s not as entranced by it as you are. “That’s an… interesting scent. Kind of smells like Jake’s musty room when we were growing up. Makes sense, with all of his old books he used to keep in there.”

No. Please don’t say that. 

“I know absolutely nothing about our beloved Sir Lancelot,” he continues, glancing at the words printed on the first page. “Well, other than what we see in the Monty Python masterpiece.” 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, The Holy Grail is, in fact, a masterpiece. You’re pretty sure you could quote the whole thing word for word.

“And,” he proceeds, “that he likes to bone the king's beautiful wife.” 

His eyes flick up from the book to meet yours. You can’t help the flush of pink that encompasses your cheeks upon his brash statement. (Or the heartbeat that is pounding at your very core.)

“I guess you could say that’s a pretty significant trait of his character,” you say, your soft tone cracking a little. 

He smiles at you as you smile back, quickly casting your eyes downward to avoid the prolonged contact that’s only intensifying the blood rushing to your face. 

You hear his feet shuffle a little closer to yours. That heartbeat you were feeling a second ago has now tripled. He gently takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, lifting it ever so softly so you have no choice but to look in his eyes. “Guiniverre could only wish to be as beautiful as you.” 

You move your glare to his lips, so soft and pink. You’ve lost count over how many times you’ve kissed them the past few months. How many times you’ve wished the camera wasn’t there during those moments. 

His gravity is pulling you closer to him, urging you to crash your lips with his in a kiss that would put everything you’ve ever done on camera to shame. 

But just as you’re about to…

“Sam? Y/n? Where the hell did you go?”

Natalia. Like clockwork. Here to ruin a special moment just as she did with Jake all those weeks ago when he saw you in the black lace gown for the first time. When she removed him from your sight. 

You curse under your breath, reluctantly stepping away from Sam as she stomps up the old wooden stairs and finds you both.

“You guys! I told you 5:15 and it’s…” she pauses to pull her phone from the back pocket of light wash mom jeans. “5:21! Sam, you need to leave. We have to close.” 

Sam hands you the book and you place it back in its designated spot.

“I can’t wait to hear more about his story,” he says as he walks away. 

“What? Whose story?” you ask absentmindedly. Your mind has become so jumbled with everything that transpired in the last few minutes, you’ve completely forgotten what you two had been talking about beforehand.

“Our good old Sir Lancelot. It’ll help me perfect his character on the screen, you know, like you said.” He throws you a little quick wink as he makes his way down the stairs, leaving you alone with Natalia. 

“Do I want to know what you two were doing up here?” she asks, her eyes opened wide and her hands settled on both of her hips.

You look back to the book you’d just put away, running your finger along the spine, stopping on the engraved Lancelot in gold lettering. “Just as he said,” you tell her. “We were talking about his character for the film.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

An air of confidence fills your lungs as you walk into Movack’s class. Finally your last midterm of the semester, and while the others haven’t gone as well as you’d hoped, you feel good about this one. 

This is the class you’ve felt the most prepared for. And admittedly, this is the one you’ve studied for the least. But, you feel you can get away with that. 

If there’s anything you’re sure of yourself in, it’s your knowledge of this lore. You’ve studied it on an academic and scholarly level for more than half of your life. Needless to say, you’re pretty well versed in it all. 

The only issue with this class: Jake.

He’s proven to be a bit distracting during quizzes, resulting in you receiving less than satisfactory grades. But you’ll be damned if you allow that any further. 

He’s disrupted things long enough since you’ve started classes, it’s time to forget about him once and for all and focus on what truly matters. 

He’s already seated in his spot, books opened flat on his desk as he does a little last minute reading before the exam begins. 

You don’t even look his way as you sit in your chair. You simply pretend he isn’t there, a method you’re planning to use for the entirety of his test. (And the rest of this semester, if you’re lucky.)

You sure as hell don’t smell his cologne, vanilla mixed with a musky sandalwood, that has bewitched you since the very day you met him. Nope.

And you certainly don’t care that he’s wearing a white button up that gorgeously flatters the leftover tan he still has from the summer. Or that he’s not wearing his John Lennon sunglasses that you’ve hated (sort of) for months now, allowing for you to see his sparkling, whiskey colored eyes underneath the shadow of his brown leather wide brimmed hat. 

No, you don’t care at all about these things. Your heart isn’t racing erratically at feeling his body heat radiate on you in the cold classroom from just how close your seats are.

Fuck. You can only tell yourself that for so goddamn long. And no matter how much you try to fill your head with other thoughts, when he’s sitting right next to you, drawing deep breaths as he’s focused on his reading, he’s the only one you can conjure up. 

Of course he would choose today to look the best he’s ever fucking looked. 

You hold your breath as you hear the clinking of his necklaces each time he moves to open and close his books, the ridiculous amount of silver charms he wears being one of your favorite things about him. 

He seems a bit flustered, sighing and anxiously rubbing his chin (a nervous habit, according to Josh) with each page he turns. 

Surely he’s not nervous for the exam…right? 

“The exam will begin in one minute. Please place any books you have under your chairs and silence all cell phones. The link to the exam has been sent to your school email through LockDown Browser. Please be sure all other tabs are closed as the system will not allow you to open the test otherwise,” Dr. Movack announces.

You tuck your bag beneath your chair and open your laptop, scrolling through your emails until you find the one from Dr. Movack for the test.

“Good luck,” Jake says in a monotone voice, still so alluring and sexy despite lack of tone.

He’s shocked you almost completely still as you sit there staring at the homescreen for the test. You don’t say anything just yet, giving yourself a moment to register that he actually spoke real words to you. Words that didn’t sound angry or annoyed for once. Something kind of sincere, even.

“Uh- yeah, you too,” you stumble in response. 

“The test will begin now,” says your professor. 

You try to read the first question, however your mind is turning it into a jumbled mess of incoherent words. You read it over a second time, slower to really focus on what it’s asking. 

But it’s no fucking use. 

Jake is clicking away at his keyboard, typing his answer with hardly a second thought it seems. You hear his silver bracelet (that you find rather appealing) hitting the side of his laptop and causing a hitch in your breath. 

The sound of his heavy breathing as he types should annoy you, but of course, it’s only affecting you further in your distraction. 

No. You need to focus.

You shake your head a little to snap yourself out of it, realizing it’s taken you more than two minutes to just read and comprehend the first question of the test. 

You're wasting time. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let this happen. 

In yet another attempt to reread the question, it finally proves worthy as your brain can make sense of it this time. 

Rank and briefly describe the Three Estates of medieval society. Then, describe their individual significance and contribution.

You rub your temple and your eyelids to relieve the tension before you begin writing out your answer, going as fast as you can as you’ve already wasted more than an appropriate amount of time on the very first question. 

As you type out your response, you can’t help but notice that Jake hasn’t stopped typing since this whole thing began. Curiosity has you wondering what question he’s on, since he’s clearly flying through this thing with absolutely no problem. 

You glance up at Dr. Movack to see him seated at his desk, eyes cast downward at his own computer. You then look around the room a bit, each student fully attentive to their own test. 

Turning your head to Jake, you sneak a look at his computer to see what question he’s on. 

Number five. Already. And you’re still stuck on the first one. Pathetic. 

As you turn your attention back to your screen, you hear someone clearing their throat rather loudly. But it’s not coming from just anyone, it’s coming from Dr. Movack. 

“Ms. Y/n.” His deep voice startles you, your body jolting a bit at the aggressive tone bouncing off the walls. He’s now standing at his podium, looking directly at you while every student follows in his suit with nosey eyes cast on you. “This is your first and final warning. Keep your eyes on your screen and off Mr. Kiszka’s, or you will leave my classroom and take a zero for the exam.” 

Great. He thinks you’re trying to fucking cheat. And so does everyone else in this goddamn class. 

You’re not cheating. Didn’t even think about cheating. But how the fuck do you even begin to defend yourself?

“Sir, I-I wasn’t-“ You trip and stutter your words, trying desperately to make yourself look any better than you do right now. But you quickly realize just how terrible it truly looks as you scan the room to see forty nine sets of eyes glaring at you, judging you. And yes, even Jake’s.

He abruptly cuts you off before you can somehow explain yourself. Although there’s really no good way to explain it. “I didn’t ask for a response. Cheating is strictly not tolerated here and you should find yourself awfully lucky that I’m letting you off with a warning.”

Lucky. That word isn’t even a part of your vocabulary these days.

You nod your head in understanding, shamefully setting your attention back to your laptop. But the words are even harder to read now, as you’re trying to comprehend them between welling tears sitting in your ducts. 

The humiliation is settling in as you’re trying to finish your exam, but it all feels in vain now. 

Everyone in here, including Jake, thinks you were cheating. On Jake’s test, no less. 

So much for your fucking method of pretending he isn’t there. In no way did you manage to be even remotely successful in that pursuit. 

And not only did you fail yourself in that aspect, but now the whole class, including Jake, knows it was his screen you were peering at.

Humiliated doesn’t even crack the surface. 

You can’t win in this class, nor can you win with fucking Jake. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Walking out of class feels like the ultimate walk of shame. Worse than a walk of shame. Like utter defeat— an ignominy.

The most painful part is this is now the third time you’ve been the center of attention in the class— for the worst reasons. 

And to add even more salt to the wound, you only received a sixty eight percent on the test. A fucking D. In the subject you’ve considered to be your best since you can remember. 

And it’s not for a lack of knowledge. It’s because of the string of shit luck and continuous distractions that seem to follow you as of late. 

The uncontrolled tears are soaking your cheeks as you speed walk down the halls of Angell Hall, considering never coming back as you run down the concrete steps outside. 

You heard footsteps following closely behind you, but you couldn’t be bothered to turn around to see who it was. In fact, you were hoping that whoever it was would just fucking give up and stop following you. You thought that if you ignored them long enough, they’d just give up. 

But, no. They followed you all the way out the door, and now you hear them continue down the fucking steps after you. Relentless. 

You stop on the last step, having every intention of turning around and giving whoever the fuck is behind you what for.

But just as you’re about to, you hear, “Y/n. Will you please talk to me?”

Of fucking course.

With the sleeves of your U of M hoodie, you wipe away the streaks of tears sitting on your face, looking at the black marks staining the cuffs from your running mascara. You don’t want him to know you’ve been crying, but the state of your makeup is most likely a dead giveaway and there’s not much you can do about it right now. 

You snap around to see him standing at the front door of the building, hands tucked loosely in the pockets of his blue patchwork pants.

“What, Jake? What is there to talk about?” you say, your voice quivering from the tightness in your throat.

He walks down to the step you’re standing on, and you catch his eyes widen at your confrontational tone before he takes his sunglasses from his breast pocket and places them on his face, tucking a few hairs behind his ear.

“Well, first,” he says, using his index finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose the rest of the way. “Movack can be rather gruff at times, so just turn a blind eye to him. But second, I just want to know why you were looking at my test. You’re smart as fuck with this stuff, I can’t fathom why you would need to read my answers.”

You’re struggling to think of an answer. You want to explain yourself, to defend yourself. But where do you even begin?

Do you tell him that you were so fucking distracted by him that you couldn’t focus, inevitably causing you to take far too long to answer even the simplest questions, and that you just wanted to see how far along on the test he was to compare to your sudden ineptitude?

No. Not a goddamn chance. While the whole thing looks terrible, you find the true reason behind it all to be much worse than the cheating allegations. 

“I wasn’t reading your answers, Jake.” Your voice is still restricted from the lump in your throat that just won’t go away. But you shove it down as much as you can. The only thing that would make this entire thing worse is to cry about it in front of him. “It wasn’t anything more than my eyes needing a break from my own screen for a tenth of a  second. Movack already has it out for me, so I’m sure he was eyeing me the whole time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.”

He chuckles softly to himself, and you can’t help but watch the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down. And his pretty smile that illuminates his entire face, his cheekbones sitting high atop his glowing features… it sends an electric shock to your heart. You don’t get to see him smile nearly enough, and you wish so much that you did.

“You’re probably right about that one,” he agrees. “I swear Movack picks and chooses students each semester to single out. And you made it easy on him with those first few days in class.” 

There’s his sweet smile again, prompting goosebumps to rise on your skin and forcing out a smile of your own. 

You can’t tell if he’s being genuine or not; being the utter enigma that he is makes him incredibly difficult to read. 

And after hearing him angrily spit out his true feelings for you a few weeks ago, your brain won’t let you forget his harsh words. Of course, he doesn’t know that you heard. And you’ll continue to act as if you don’t know.

But, knowing what he said makes you wonder if anytime he’s being “sincere,” it’s just a facade. 

Still yet, you’re appreciative of the fact that he’s not outright accusing you. Almost coming to your defense, even. Not only that, but he sort of complimented your knowledge and academic abilities. 

At this point, you’ll take whatever you can get from him. 

“If you have any tips on how to survive his class the last half of the semester, I’m all ears,” you tell him, nervously twirling a strand of your hair  between your fingers. This is the closest you feel you’ve ever gotten to a ‘normal’ conversation with him. 

“At this point,” He places his hand on your shoulder, gripping it tight. You don’t even notice the breath you sucked in at his touch, feeling like you’ve suddenly forgotten how to blow it back out. “you’ll have to go above and  beyond to put yourself in his good graces.” 

He wraps up his advice with a soft squeeze of your shoulder before he steps down onto the sidewalk.  

“Above and beyond?” you repeat, matching his tone with an added sarcasm. “Got it. No problem.”

Although it would be a lot easier if you weren’t there to distract me. 

“You can do it,” he says as he’s beginning to walk away, adjusting his leather satchel over his shoulder. “Remember how you put me in my place on the first day?” he recalls through a laugh. “Yeah, just keep doing that.”

You dramatically cringe at the memory of your first day of classes, not really in the mood to ponder that mess just yet.

But he is right. That’s the only memory you have of Movack actually being somewhat kind to you.

“Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t have any problem doing that,” you say with a devious smile.

“That’s only if I let you do it,” he remarks with a smirk as he’s already halfway down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow.” 

Your tummy immediately fills with butterflies as you watch him saunter away. You weren’t sure how to feel about him being a decent human being… you just know you wanted more of it. More of the Jake you’d come to fantasize about from time to time in your cluttered mind. 

Like the one who throws one more small (devastatingly handsome) smile over his shoulder at you, still standing in the same place where he’d left you, before he turns the next corner.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Filming has just ended for the night. Jake filmed one scene and left just as you arrived for your shots, so it’s just been you, Josh, Sam and Malachi for the better half of the evening.. Things tend to go much more smoothly with this crew; you quite enjoy nights like these. 

You’re seated on their fluffy beige couch in the living room next to Sam, Josh and Malachi perched on the opposite end. With filming ending a bit earlier than usual, (given that Jake wasn’t here to cause any delay with his constant arguing) you’ve got a little time to sit around and enjoy a movie with everyone. 

Josh did ask everyone what they wanted to watch, however it’s clear he never intended to let anyone's preference determine what would actually be viewed. 

Once he turned on the television, he’d already had A Clockwork Orange queued up on the roku— it appears it was predestined for that to be tonight's film of choice. Not that you’re complaining, though. You do rather enjoy the madness that is this classic Kubrick film.

You’re no more than thirty seconds in the beginning of the movie when Josh says, “You know, Kubrick never really wanted to make this film. He thought the book was a yawn fest when it was presented to him. Just didn’t find much interest in it.” 

Sam and Malachi basically ignore him, merely nodding their heads while their eyes stay fixed on the blue lit screen. 

Still yet, he continues. “It was only when he imagined Alex being played by Malcom McDowell that he decided it’d be worth a shot. Can you believe McDowell didn’t even know who Kubrick was? He’d seen 2001: A Space Odyssey, obviously, but didn’t know Kubrick by name. It’s mind blowing, truly.”

Now that is a fact you most certainly did not know. And being the massive Kubrick fan you are, you’re surprised you didn’t know that. 

“Wait, really?” you ask with genuine curiosity to discover more that he might know. 

Sam places a hand on your knee and squeezes ever so gently. “Don’t encourage him, y/n. Or he’ll never stop,” he says with a half grin. 

From where you’re seated, you can see Josh’s face perfectly. And even with nothing but the bright screen illuminating him, you see him roll his eyes and toss his hand in Sam’s direction. 

“Yes, really! Isn’t that wild?” Josh proceeds despite Sam’s interjection. “I bet you also didn’t know that his nod to Gene Kelly was improvised.”

“It was?” you respond with a bit more shock in your tone than you had wanted. You can’t help it; this stuff fascinates you. 

“Indeed my dear, it was. Kubrick directed him to do anything that would serve as a major contrast to the violent and sinister nature of the scene, told him to dance around or something. So, that’s exactly what he did. Took one of the most convivial moments in cinematic history and turned it into an example of Hollywood’s gift of euphoria, using it  against the very corporation it came from.” 

“How on earth do you know all of this, Josh?” you question.

“Because he spends all of his time studying this useless stuff,” Malachi jokes. He pulls Josh in by the shoulders and hugs him tight to his chest while they both bust up in a fit of laughter.

“Watch the hair, please!” Josh says, his voice muffled by Malachi's shirt.

You’ve truly come to admire their relationship over the short time you’ve known them. The love they have for one another and the love they each give to everyone around them, so selflessly and without condition— they are just wonderful, beautiful people.

You still can’t help but question how Jake carries the same DNA in his body as Josh, because they are so vastly different from each other. 

The movie continues while Josh throws in a few more tidbits, piquing your interest and subsequently annoying Sam. (That’s almost more entertaining than the movie.)

Sam seems to be a little antsy. Antsy over something else other than his older brother talking away about mindless things. 

You’ve noticed him glancing your way periodically out of your peripheral, and he keeps taking a breath as if he wants to say something but stops before he gets a word out. 

You can’t take it any longer. “You okay, Sammy?” you ask in a hushed voice, trying not to disturb Josh and Malachi. 

“Y- yeah, I’m okay,” he whispers. But you know better. Something is plaguing him, and you will get to the bottom of it. 

“Are you sure?” you ask, a little bit of inflection on the last word.

He nods his head and hums in confirmation, setting his eyes back on the sci-fi film while you shrug him off and do the same.

As many times as you’ve seen this movie, you still can’t help but cringe during the infamous torture scene. 

You verbally express your disgust over the torture being inflicted on Alex, holding your hands over your face and barely peeking through the space between your fingers. 

The guys all snicker at your squeamish recoil, opting to watch you versus the movie as your reaction is probably more riveting than the horrid images on the screen. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The early evening has now cast a full, lunar glow as time has drawn on with the movie now running its ending credits. 

Josh and Malachi have long since fallen asleep, cuddled up in an impressive knot together. 

You peel yourself up off the soft cushion and stretch your stiffened limbs as Sam remains tucked deep between the pillows, still awake as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone as you suddenly remember you haven’t checked yours since filming came to an end hours ago.

You reach in your bag to fish it out, only to find that the battery is now completely dead. 

“Shit,” you mumble more to yourself than anything else. 

Your mind is instantly filled with the worst case scenario. Is your mother okay? What might have happened in the time between your phone dying and now? If she was in trouble, there is no way you would’ve known. 

“You okay?” Sam hushes from his cocoon in the couch, lifting up a bit as you give him a sideways glance. 

You had just tried to turn your phone on, to no avail. Only being met with the red battery telling you that you’re shit out of luck. Deciding to play it off, you do your best to not overthink it as you toss your phone back in your bag. 

You feel your heart plummet with the phone the slightest bit. “Y-yeah,” you stutter, keeping your tone quiet for the sleeping lovers. You throw a thumb towards the door, connecting your eyes with his again. His expression is so concerned, his eyes mimic that of a baby calf. “I’ve just gotta go. Just a grade I’ve been dying to check and my phone is dead,” you lie through your teeth, starting to head to the door.

But just as you get to the door, his hand is over yours on the handle. Your heart rate admittedly speeds up at the proximity. Cute, sweet guy who you’ve been sitting closely with all night? Touching your hand? 

You turn your head back and upwards to get a look at where he is standing behind you. 

“Let me walk you out,” he offers, his tone kind but leaving no room for argument. “I don’t like the idea of you being out there at night by yourself.”

Little does he know where I fucking live. This place is nothing. 

But, again, you play it off. Company on the way to the car wouldn’t be bad.

“Okay,” you grin. And he’s so close, you can’t help but blush as you open the door under his hand, still covering yours. 

Once you get out to your car, you’ve built up a little bit of nervous energy from Sammy following you out. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a bit of a crush, and having him so near was doing funny things to your heart. 

You turn to the driver’s side door and go to put your key in the lock. 

“Thanks for walking me out, Sam,” you look over your shoulder, trying your best to look as cute as possible in front of your beat up, jank-ass car. “I really loved hanging out with you tonight,” then you turn back to open the door. “Have a good night, Sa—.”

“Wait—,” you hear him say, his voice anxious. You follow the tone of his voice, and turn to face him front on. You can’t help the grin that flutters to your features as you wait for him to finish. “I’ve—I’ve actually been wanting to ask you something. I just wasn’t sure how to do it, but— fuck it. Do you want to go out this weekend? With all of us, I mean. Well, with me, but everyone else will be there too.” he utters, stumbling all over himself as he does so. “Josh wants to have a party here with all of the cast and crew to celebrate being halfway done with the film, and then we’ll all go out afterwards. Well, just my brothers and I. Of course Malachi will come. And you, I hope.” He’s spitting this all out so quickly, it’s like whiplash trying to keep up with everything he’s saying. 

He seems…nervous? That is quite shocking to you given how close you two have been for filming. He seems to never have an issue in those circumstances. He’s incredibly confident and sure of himself while he kisses you like no one has ever kissed you before. All for the sake of a silly college project. 

You smile at him and grab his hand before you respond, attempting to reassure him and make him feel more comfortable. “I’d love to, Sammy.” 

You can visibly see the anxiety wash away from his body as he relaxes a bit, loosening  his stiffened posture. “Great! How do you feel about haunted houses?”

“Haunted houses?” you question. “Like, spook houses?”

Your Oklahoma is showing, y/n.

Sam chuckles, “I forget you’re from down yonder,” he jokes with the worst fake southern accent you’re sure ever heard. “Yeah, like those. We go every year to them, kind of an annual ritual for my brothers and I. I’d really, really love it if you joined us this year. It’s a blast. That's what we’re planning on doing after the party. There’s a new one we’re wanting to try out for size.”

You’ve been so caught up in the chaos of everything consuming your life at the moment that you’d completely forgotten that Halloween is this weekend. Time has utterly flown by since your move. It still feels as though you’ve just begun classes at the U of M only days ago, when in fact, it’s been months since the semester started. 

“God, I haven’t gone to a spook hou– sorry, haunted house, in years.” you tell him. 

His face scrunches up in a tenderhearted grin at your correction. 

“It’s a date, then!” he exclaims with an enthusiasm that swarms your belly with tiny butterflies. 

He opens your car door a little wider as you climb yourself in the driver's seat. “It’s a date,” you repeat through a full toothed smile. He matches your grin as he gently shuts your door, bidding you a farewell with a sweet salute. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Each outfit you put on just doesn’t flatter you in the slightest. Every shirt is either too tight or too low cut, each pair of jeans has a weird gap in the crotch, your leggings only look good with a baggy sweater. And even though that’s your go-to comfort outfit, that is not the vibe you're going for tonight. 

No; you have to look damn good tonight. You want to look good for Sam, for him to see you in something cute that’s not just a film costume. (But there’s also the incessant part of you that desperately wants to impress Jake, too. And your usual attire just won’t do the trick.)

You dig through to the deepest crevices of your closet in hopes to find something that looks good, but also makes you feel confident in your body. 

The only thing you do feel confident in these days is your seductive wardrobe for the film. But, for obvious reasons, you can’t wear those to the party or the spook house. That is not the kind of attention you’re attempting to draw this evening. 

You stumble upon a black velvet skirt, short with a small slit on the left thigh. You’ve never worn it. You bought it years ago for a reason that you can’t seem to remember at the moment. But it’s managed to withstand the multiple closet purges you’ve done over the years, so part of you has clearly always thought it would come in handy at some point. 

Holding it up to your hips, you figure it’ll probably still fit. (Fingers and toes crossed that it does.)

It’s supposed to be a bit chilly out tonight, so you rummage through the second drawer in your dresser for the pair of  black tights you have tucked away at the very bottom under all of your other undergarments. 

You sit on your bed as you pull the tights over your calf, up to your thigh before repeating the same thing on the other leg, standing up to awkwardly pull them the rest of the way up over your hips and ass, covering the cute black boy shorts you chose to wear underneath that match your black t-shirt material bra. These particular tights have some serious tummy control— something you’re quite grateful for. 

Now, for the brutal moment of truth. Will the skirt fit?

You certainly hope so. Trying on anything can be incredibly difficult for you. You live in fear that nothing will fit you. Too big or too small, it doesn’t matter. Dealing with the size of your body in any aspect is paralyzing and far too triggering. So, doing this right now is a massive step for you. But, if it fits, it’ll be worth it. 

You undo the zipper on the back and step into the skirt on one foot at a time, sucking your stomach in fiercely as you zip it back up at your waist and clasp the small hook and eye at the top. 

As you let out the breath you’d been holding, you’re delightfully shocked to find that the skirt fits. Not too tight, not too loose— it’s perfect. A wonderful surprise that you truthfully weren’t expecting.

You walk over to your small vanity to take a look in the mirror sitting on top of the white wooden table. You bend down a bit to get a better look at the skirt, and holy hell. 

Your ass looks fantastic. And the little slit sitting on your left thigh is tastefully sexy as hell. The tights were a great choice as they make your legs look smooth and complement the black velvet beautifully. 

Now, to find the right top. 

Giant sweaters are your comfort, but you’re feeling like trying something a little different tonight. 

You have a dark gray, long sleeved mock neck that’s been hidden away almost as long as your skirt has. The fit of it has always given you wild amounts of anxiety. It’s tight. Like, skin tight. Yet, it’s remained part of your wardrobe for a long ass time. So, why not give it a try? You’re feeling a little more brave at the moment, and it might surprise you just as the skirt did. 

Shifting through the hangers holding your shirts, you finally find it. Still brand new with the tags. You can’t remember why you bought this, either. Perhaps past you was looking out for future you to have something hot to wear on this very night? Who the hell knows. 

You rip the tags off of it, figuring it’s probably much too late to return it now. You stretch out the mock neck a bit before pulling it on over your head, smoothing it over your breasts and down your stomach, tucking the length into your skirt and tights. 

You adjust the arms a bit, feeling a tinge of apprehension at just how snugly the material is clinging to your biceps. A body part of yours that you’re not so keen on accentuating. 

But as you take a look in the mirror, you’re shocked yet again— over just how good this looks on you, too. The tight-fitting fabric is actually doing you a lot of favors, particularly in the region of your breasts. 

The shirt isn’t cut in a way that would show any cleavage, but the way it fits around them emphasizes their shape, making them look rather perky as they sit perfectly upon your chest. 

The whole outfit is flattering you in ways you’ve never explored. The anxiety about trying something so far outside of your comfort is still ever present, but as of late, you’ve convinced yourself that it’s okay to do that every once in a while. 

You’re tired of being trapped in the prison cell that is your self conscious brain. It’s time to break free, and the confidence that filming has brought to you feels like the very key to unlocking the bars that keep your thoughts in confinement. And so does this moment as you’re seeing yourself in yet another new light. It makes you feel utterly silly for feeling as shitty as you always have. 

You glance at your phone to check the time, and you still have over an hour until you have to be at their apartment. You’re thankfully making good time, so you have plenty to dedicate to your hair and makeup to perfect it. 

You decide to throw a few loose curls in your hair, letting the waves fall around your face to frame it. Keeping your makeup a bit on the light side, you choose to go with a small, subtle black wing and black mascara to accent your eyes. You decide on a daring red lip, but not just any red lip– the same shade of red you’ve been wearing while you’re portraying the highly coveted Guiniverre. You grin as you swipe the scarlet color across your lips, thinking back to all the times it’s become smeared on yours and Sammy’s. The giggles that you two have broken out in over the mess you’ve created on his face. 

Digging through your jewelry box, you find some silver and gold chains you like to pair together. You place them meticulously around your neck, making sure they’re stacked to perfection. Then a pair of big hoop earrings that show beautifully through the loose curls around your face.

But just as you’re closing the lid to the floral painted ceramic box, something catches your eye. 

A little golden charm in the shape of a heart with your initial engraved on it. Your fifteenth birthday gift from your dad. You used to wear it every single day, up until the very day he walked out of your life for good. 

You threw it away that day. Tossed in the garbage the second you realized what he had done. 

While you’re not entirely sure how it made its way to Michigan with you, you’re willing to bet your mom dug through the trashcan to salvage it for you, hiding it in your box for you to discover later on. 

As much as you’ve struggled to contrive a single memory of your dad that doesn’t involve him leaving, looking at the necklace has your mind venturing back to the moment he gave it to you. Wrapped up so elegantly in a red velvet bag, with a letter from him that told you the story behind your name, how he chose it special after his grandmother that helped raise him when his parents gave him up. (Seems a little ironic.) 

You suddenly begin to panic. Where did that letter end up? Did you throw it away, too? God, you really hope you didn’t. But it seems like something you definitely may have done in the midst of your unforgiving anger with him.

But you loved that story. You used to make him tell you about your name all the time, and having it written down in his handwriting was something you held rather close to your heart until he up and left.

You start scrambling, pulling your tangled jewelry out in handfuls to see if it’s buried in there, but it’s no use. It’s not here, and you truly feel in your heart that it’s somewhere in the landfills of Cherry Tree, Oklahoma. Disintegrated to near nothing. 

It breaks your heart to think of it in that state. But maybe it’s for the better. Maybe that’s the universe trying to tell you that it was meant to stay back in Oklahoma with the life you no longer have with him. 

One thing is for sure, there’s no use in shedding tears over it. It’s in the past, and that’s probably the best place for it. 

You check your phone once more, realizing that you have to leave in no less than twenty minutes if you want to be there on time. 

You begin rushing around, looking for your black thigh length leather jacket (faux, of course) that you know will match your outfit perfectly. 

You find it buried under a few other coats on the shelf of your closet. You swiftly grab it and start heading out of the door of your bedroom, realizing that you’re still clutching the heart necklace in your right hand’s grip.

Mindlessly, you slowly place it around your neck, lining it up with your others so it sits in just the right place. You hold tight to the engraved charm, swiping your thumb over the initial a few times, just as you always did for comfort  in the years that it was worn.

The comforting feeling is still there, strangely. Everything has changed since you last wore this, yet somehow it all feels the same. 

The memories start to flood back like a tsunami, but you don’t have time for them right now. You don’t want to overwhelm yourself with it all. Wearing the necklace is just one step towards forgiveness, and that’s all you have the mental capacity for at the moment.

Throwing your jacket on your shoulders, you walk down the hallway to the living room to search for your purse and keys. 

Your mom is seated on the couch, watching her favorite television show and cleaning up the plate of food you made her. She starts to get up to take her dishes to the kitchen, but you stop her before she can stand all the way.

“Let me get that, mom.” You take them from her,  rinsing them off in the kitchen sink before placing them in the dishwasher. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with me gone for so long?” 

Tonight will be the longest you’ll be gone from her since you made the move, and the worry sitting on your heart is almost too heavy for you to truly feel okay with leaving her tonight. 

Your biggest fear is playing over and over in your head like a damaged record. But when you told her about tonight, she wouldn’t accept anything less than you going and having a great time. 

“You look beautiful, sweetie. Does my poor heart some good to see you like this,” she says as you saunter your way back into the living room to meet her warm, smiling face. “And I told you, honey. I will be fine. Don’t you dare fret about me tonight.”

Triple checking that all of her nighttime medications are out and within her reach, you also take a moment to check that her oxygen tank is full and that her mask is nearby should she need it.

“Y/n.” She takes your hand away from the tank and pulls it close to her. “I am just fine. Now get on out of here and enjoy yourself, sweet pea.”

She pats the back of your hand with her other, something she’s done since you were a child. 

“Okay, mom,” you utter through a deep sigh. “But please promise you’ll call me if you need me for anything, okay?”

She nods her head in agreement, sending you a warm smile yet again as she lets go of you and softly nudges you in the direction of the front door.

“Love you, mom,” you tell her as you step through the threshold. 

“Love you more, y/n.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You nervously pull your car in the lot of their complex. It’s been clanking around more than usual tonight and there’s an odd smell emitting from the engine. You’re counting your lucky stars that you’ve made it here in one piece. You’re hoping that having it sit and rest for a while is just what it needs. 

Your dad was always your right hand in fixing any issue that arose with your old piece of junk. Without him, you don’t even know where to begin. What shops to take it to, who will overcharge you and who won’t. Car mechanics are a foreign concept to you.

He even promised you a new one by the end of your junior year. It’s a pretty safe bet that that won’t be happening. 

Josh answers the door before your fist even collides with it. “Y/n, my sweet dove! I’m so happy to see you!” he exclaims, clearly more than a few drinks in as he holds one tightly in his hand.

He practically pulls you into their home, wrapping you in a Josh-famous hug while nearly spilling his glass filled to the brim with some stout, honey colored liquid. The same one that you smelled on his breath as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Joshua!” you huff, laughing at his loose state. “The night has barely begun and you’re already drunk?”

“Ah, yes! The night is still young, and there’s plenty more trouble to get into!” 

Your hand covers the sound of the giggle that erupts from you. “It sounds like you’ve gotten into enough already, Josh,” you say through your fingers.

His drink meets your empty hand in a clumsy ‘cheers,’ a few drops of his drink landing on your skin before he lifts his glass to take a big swig.

“The queen is here, everyone!” he shouts while stumbling through the crowded living room. You cringe at the sudden influx of eyes staring at you from Josh (loudly) announcing your arrival. 

You flash an uncomfortable smile, waving stiffly at everyone while you take your jacket off and hang it on the coat-stand in the corner of the foyer. 

“The queen, the queen!” Sammy roars from the kitchen, setting his glass down on the granite before swiftly padding  his way across the living space to meet you. He instantly envelopes you in a warm, soft hug, digging his chin in your shoulder. His coarse facial hair tickles your neck as you playfully squirm away from his embrace.

He takes a step back, amorous eyes flicking up and down your form. “You look intoxicatingly lovely tonight,” he whispers, taking your hand as he gives the tops of your knuckles a quick peck. 

Although he’s not quite as inebriated as his older brother, you can tell he’s had at least a few. Enough to sustain a pretty decent buzz. So, you don’t think his actions are completely due to the alcohol. Perhaps a bit, though. 

“Come with me,” Sam says while he drags you by the same hand his lips just met. “Your lack of beverage is deeply concerning.”

As he leads you to the kitchen, your eye is caught by Jake standing by the array of finger foods intricately splayed out on huge charcuterie boards. 

And fuck, does he look sexy as hell. 

His dark beige collared jacket over his loose, worn white t-shirt is something brand new to you, and his denim button up tied around his waist above his black skinny jeans shouldn’t be nearly as inviting as it is. 

You instantly notice the slightly cropped nature of his top, revealing just enough skin. Even the slightest vision of his lower stomach has your head spinning. 

But then you realize… he’s not alone.

And she’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. 

Her sun bleached hair falls just below her impossibly tiny waist. Her green eyes are complemented beautifully by her mulberry sweater, the deep neckline emphasizing her perfect breasts.  

He’s smiling, laughing, and she’s laughing right along with him, making doe eyes as he talks to her. She’s holding some bright pink concoction, of which she’s taking the daintiest sips, never breaking contact with his eyes.

You’ve never seen him so outgoing, so talkative. And it’s all thanks to her.

Sam notices your stare in their direction, and switches directions so you’re now heading towards them. 

“I don’t think you two have properly met!” Sam interjects. “Y/n, this is Stacy. She’s playing the woman that steals your man.” 

He laughs ridiculously loud at his own joke, obviously not understanding where your mind is at all. (How could he possibly know? But, still. Poor taste, Sam.)

She is Stacy. Of course she is. 

You’d heard about Stacy, but you hadn’t met her yet. All you knew was that she was the one cast as Camille, Arthur’s very own secret lover who will later turn out to be as evil as Morgan le Fey herself.

Nat has mentioned her briefly, telling you that she’s “kind of a moron, but a fantastic actress,” whatever the hell that means.

Her availability has been much different than yours for filming, so your paths have yet to cross. And since Josh has a strict ‘no pre-edit viewing’ rule, you haven’t seen any of her scenes with Jake.

And part of you isn’t entirely sure you want to. With how titillating your scenes with Sam have been, and the rather exposed nature of your own costuming, your wandering mind can only imagine how similar Jake's scenes are with Stacy and the costumes they’ve chosen for her. 

The script you possess only includes scenes with you, so you haven’t even been able to read any of Jake’s that don’t include you, which also means you haven’t even read any of hers.

You’d already made it up in your mind that she was probably quite beautiful. That Jake probably believes she’s quite beautiful, too. 

And you were unfortunately right. She’s a fucking goddess. You can’t hold a candle to her. And given the way Jake is looking at her, it’s safe to assume that he would agree.

Does he feel the same things for her that you feel for Sam? Why does it seem he gives her the attention you so desperately crave from him? Is she the reason why he has next to nothing to do with you?

It shouldn’t matter to the extent that it unfortunately does, but the thoughts are deafening nonetheless. 

You’re jealous. And there’s no reason to be jealous, but you can’t begin to help it.

Out of instinct, you bring your arms up to fold them over your chest. You suddenly feel like hiding once again. 

The thrumming bass from the loud music is keeping perfect time with the amplified beating of your heart.

Why do you have to care so much?

You swallow it all down, breaking free from your thoughts to be cordial with her. Because she has yet to give you a reason not to be, and you don’t want to be that jealous bitch.

“Hi, Stacy!” you exclaim with a forced smile and a reach of your hand to shake with hers. “It’s so great to finally meet you.”

She disregards your outstretched hand, opting to pull you in for an unexpected hug in lieu and nearly causing you both to topple over.

She smells fucking incredible. Like fresh cherries and oranges. 

She breaks from the hug, still grasping hold of each of your shoulders as you’re standing completely stiff in shock over the way she’s greeting you, as if she’s known you all her life.

With a giant smile, (displaying her perfectly white, straight teeth) she says, “I am so happy to see you! The boys have told me so much about you— well, mostly Sammy. He told me you’re a super awesome actress and has gone on and on about how pretty you are.”

Sam wraps his arm around your waist, giggling and blushing at her statement. You find his sudden onset of embarrassment to be absolutely adorable. You catch yourself smiling at the thought of him speaking of you in such a way. His sweetness more than makes up for the lack thereof from his older brother, who is standing stiff as a board behind Stacy. 

His eyes flick to yours, and they burn a hole through your own gaze before they land on Sam’s arm that’s hugged tightly to your body. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches before he gives Sam a look that you’re pretty sure could actually murder him if it were possible.

You can’t discern how he’s feeling, but whatever is on his mind, he certainly does not appear to be happy about it. 

You look up to Sam to see that he’s staring right back at Jake, even throwing him a sly wink before Jake abruptly walks away from the three of you without a single word.

What the fuck is his problem now?

You all stand there in silence for a moment, Stacy’s head quickly whipping around in the direction he left in.

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat to draw the attention elsewhere. “I’ve heard plenty of wonderful things about you also, Stacy. I am so excited to see you in the film. I bet you’re absolutely great!” You’re more so telling her this in an effort to relieve the tension that Jake so lovingly left behind.

She smiles before taking a few sips of her drink, licking the rememints off her full, rose colored lips. “Jake is just a dream to work with. He’s so patient and kind with me. And he’s just the sweetest guy! When he asked me to come to the party tonight, there was no way I could say no.” 

No. There’s no way she’s using ‘patient’ and ‘kind’ to describe the same Jake that’s been a rude, arrogant pain in your side for the past few months. He is most definitely not the ‘sweetest guy.’

You’re practically biting your tongue in half to stop yourself from saying anything. 

Why the hell has he been treating her so much better than you? What is so special about her that you’re lacking?

Well, aside from her Barbie-like beauty. That is something you can’t compare to, sadly. You’ll never equate to girls that carry her kind of flawless, graceful allure. 

And that is probably why you don’t receive the same respect as her. It makes perfect sense.

What a vain, fucking asshole.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You’ve been subtly eyeing them all night, watching as they’ve kept themselves tucked away together in a desolate corner of the living room, completely separated from the rest of the party.

He’s been ogling the hell out of her while she rambles on and on, talking his ear off for what feels like hours. (About something mindless and irrelevant, you’re sure.)

But whatever it is has acquired his full attention as they’ve basically not lost sight of one another since the night began. (Aside from the numerous times you’ve caught him glancing your way tonight. Maybe this outfit was a good idea.)

Sammy thankfully hasn’t taken notice of your wandering eyes. In fact, he’s been just as glued to you as the two of them seem to be. 

And if you’re honest, he’s been a welcome diversion. 

The drinks have made him a little extra clingy to you, and even more complimentary, as if that were even possible.

You’re asking yourself yet again why you care so fucking much about what Jake is doing, when you have Sam practically falling all over himself for you. (Almost literally, thanks to the alcohol flowing freely through his system.)

You’re still working on your first drink that Josh mixed for you, and you now know what Malachi meant when he told you to beware of an infamous Josh cocktail. There’s just a hint of lime juice swimming in an endless sea of Camarena tequila. (A Kiszka staple, you’ve come to find.) 

You can only sip on it gingerly as a full gulp would probably cause your blood alcohol levels to rise rather quickly, so taking it slow is necessary. 

“I think I’ll go pour myself another refreshment. Anything I can get you?” Sammy asks, effectively pulling your attention away from them again for the umpteenth time tonight. (Thank god he hasn’t noticed.)

“I think I’m good. Thank you, though.”

He gives you an inquisitive look as he downs the last few drops of what's left of his drink. “And you’re sure you don’t want something to eat? There’s plenty up there.”

You’ve turned down his offer at least three times now. He’s been questioning you all night about eating, but you just can’t right now. 

The fear of becoming bloated while in an outfit as tight as this, clinging to every square inch of your body, is far too great to allow yourself to indulge. 

If you want to look good, especially around the likes of Stacy, food is out of the question for tonight.

“I ate with my mom before I came over, so I’m really not very hungry.” That’s a lie. And you hate to lie to him, to anyone. But you don’t want to be tempted by him bringing you a plate of food. You’ve hardly stepped foot in the kitchen for that very reason. 

He just smiles and says “okay” as he stands up from the couch to grab his refill, leaving you sitting there by yourself. 

Normally you’d be grateful for the moment of solitude amongst the wild party goers as they dance and galavant around. 

But all it’s doing is setting your attention right back on Jake, who’s still conversing with Stacy. 

Only now, it’s much worse. 

Your stomach tightens and drops when you see him mindlessly run the backs of his fingers up and down her forearm, landing loosely on her waist as their proximity has become even closer somehow. 

You shouldn’t care. You really shouldn’t fucking care. But goddamnit— how you wish it were you. 

You’ve told yourself over and over again to let go of this idea that he could ever possibly like you. It’s pointless, useless. He’s made it plenty well known that he isn’t and never will be interested. 

But suddenly, he makes eye contact with you again as he’s wrapped up with her, and she doesn’t notice. She just keeps talking to him as if he were still listening.

But you can tell he’s not. His eyes are tightly fixed with yours, and this time, neither one of you are quick to break the contact. 

There’s close to twenty people between the two of you, yet they all suddenly disappear. The music has turned into a muffled, incoherent beat. It’s as though you’re both standing on either end of a tunnel, the rest of the world stuck on the outside, unbeknownst to what’s occurring beyond the cylinder walls that encompass only you and Jake.

Your trance is broken by Stacy taking hold of his face and turning it back towards her. You can’t hear what she says, but based on the movement of her lips, you’ve gathered it was something along the lines of, ‘who were you looking at?’ 

She turns her head in your direction, looking around intently to answer her own question.

But she doesn’t look at you. Because in her mind, why would Jake ever look at you when she, perfect and beautiful as can be, is standing right in front of him?

No. She’d never suspect it.

And maybe she’s right, anyway. You turn to look behind you to see a slew of beautiful girls standing close by. Friends of some of the crew for the film, you assume. 

He was probably just looking at them. Not you.

Never you.

You feel the couch cushion sink in next to you with Sammy sitting back down, clutching his newly fresh drink, completely oblivious to everything happening within your mind.

You suddenly feel your phone vibrate from your purse, and you unlock the screen to see a text message from Natalia.

It’s suddenly registered with you that she isn’t here yet, which isn’t like her to be late to anything.

Nat: “So, about tonight…”

You: “Are you okay?? Where are you, dude?”

Nat: “I *may* have a date planned, & I *may* not be making it to the party because of said date. ;)”

You: “A date?? With?? SPILL IT!”

Nat: “A certain curly headed boy who was also supposed to be there tonight. :p Any guesses?”

You glance around the room to determine who should be here but isn’t.

You still don’t know very many people in this town just yet, so the possibilities of who it could be are rather limited. 

It clearly isn’t Sammy. And it most definitely isn’t Jake or Josh.

Then, it hits you.

Daniel. Sammy’s best friend who has been nowhere to be found all night, who was most definitely supposed to be here.

You’ve loved getting to know him over the last few months. Everything runs extra smoothly when he’s around to help with the camera work, and he serves as the best mediator for the twins. (And Sam when he’s feeling extra ruthless.) Fights are almost non-existent when his presence is looming.

And he is absolutely sexy as fuck. The tallest of all the boys, and the most muscular. 

With Nat’s unmatched beauty along with her kind heart, the two of them would make the most ideal, movie worthy couple.

You’re sad she won’t be here tonight, but the thought of her going out with Danny has you far too excited to care. She deserves this.

You: “Danny?? SHUT THE HELL UP? I’m so happy for you!”

Nat: “Maaaaybe. ;) I’ll keep you updated! Sorry for ditching you tonight, love you & have fun!”

You: “You’re such a shit. Love you!”

“What are you so smiley about?” Sam asks, nudging your shoulder playfully with his as you grin at your phone. 

You lift up your screen to show him, his smile matching yours once he discovers what has you so giddy,

“No fucking way!” he shouts, taking your phone from your hand to get a better look at the messages. “He’s been wanting to ask her out for ages. Way to finally grow some balls, Daniel!”

Sinking into the cushions a little further, you accept your fate of not having Nat with you for the night. You’re going to miss her. You are not sure how you’re going to make it without her perfectly timed buffering. And tonight of all nights is the one where you need her as a distraction. A distraction from the continuously ridiculous display that Jake and Stacy are giving with their secret giggles in the corner. 

Next to you, Sammy’s small, drawn out cackle pulls you back. It brings a small smile to your face as it’s an honestly endearing sound–reminiscent of a laugh influenced by weed. You’ve gotten used to hearing it often, as Sam is always laughing if there’s a laugh to be had. 

He’s a good distraction. A good buffer. You’ll have him to lean on all night. You’re assured of this as he looks down at you with his big, beautiful, deep brown eyes. He’s pulling you in, making you feel safe in this overly crowded room. 

But another drink would be nice. Just to alleviate any tension that could unintentionally make its way into your muscles. It’s a humongous risk as Jake and Stacy leave their cocoon in the corner to make their way back to the kitchen. 

Yeah, you don’t want to go back there. You need a drink, but you don’t want to accidentally see them canoodling when that’s the last thing you want to be privy to. The drink’s a necessity, though, you realize as you already feel irritation flare in your veins at the thought. 

“You need something, hun?” Sam asks. 

You bring your eyes, zoning out on nothing, back to him. God, he’s so sweet. Why can’t he be the Kiszka you want most?

Not knowing what else to say or do, you figure asking him to run to the kitchen for you might be a good idea. You need the alcohol, and he would surely love to help. Perfect combo.

“I need a drink,” you say, a shy smile taking over your features. “And I’m too comfy to get up.”

You really feel bad making him be your errand boy. Especially when his face lights up at the prospect of possibly helping you. 

“Yeah!” He eagerly responds, getting up in no time. “Whaddya want? Mixed? Beer? Wine?”

“Glass of wine, maybe?”

“Dry? Sweet? Sour?”

“Sweet,” you respond, without thought. Sweet wine is always the only route. “Thank you,” you offer, blushing with the quiet thanks. 

“Sure thing,” he winks. Then, he’s crouching in front of you, his hand landing on your thigh. Your skin heats under his touch. He’s so fucking gorgeous. And he’s so close. And he’s leaning in. 

You lean forward, too, and capture his lips in an effortless kiss. So soft, his mustache tickles your upper lip just right. 

He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and your tummy does a funny twirl before he’s standing back up with one more wink and a little grin that makes your cheeks flare red. “Be right back, sweet thing.”

As long as you can without having to move from your spot, you watch him lazily (and sexily) walk to the kitchen for your beverage. You’re biting your lip, still, when you turn back to face the rest of the party in front of you. 

Then you see Jake leaving the kitchen right as Sammy enters it. And with Stacy momentarily distracted, he lets his eyes wander. But, you realize, they don’t really wander– no, they go immediately to you. 

You’re still biting your lip, but you let your teeth slip just the slightest bit with the look he’s giving you. It’s haunting–almost as though it’s a best-kept secret. He looks…pensive. But his eyes are open, wondering and curious with his lips parted just slightly– so prettily. 

You let your gaze stay on his face–continue looking in his mysterious eyes–until Sam is the one exiting the kitchen. So, you turn your attention back to his face. He’s smiling at you, holding up a clear plastic cup, holding what looks like Pink Moscato. Your lips turn up at the sight, but let your eyes float back to Jake’s of their own accord… but he’s no longer looking at you. 

No, he’s looking at Malachi, who is still engaging in conversation with Stacy. 

But he’s not smiling along with their conversation. He’s scowling, his jaw clenching enough to make your skin feel hot. Why’s he so mad?

You choose not to think about it, instead averting your eyes to Sam, now back in front of you with your wine, setting his new drink on the table. You let your eyes settle on his ass in his gray jeans and you can’t help but appreciate the view. 

Then he’s turning around and his phone is getting clicked open from his pocket. 

Peering at the screen, you wrinkle a brow. 

“What’s–?”

“Twenty Questions!” He excitedly says as he hands you your wine and settles in next to you again. “Thought it could keep us busy for the next bit of time.”

Your eyes twinkle. He’s adorable. 

“Okay,” you smirk, taking a drink of your wine, which settles immediately into your cheeks. Warms you right up. And, yes, it’s Pink Moscato. “How did you know I love this type of wine?”

“Lucky guess,” he chimes, the apples of his cheeks pink after a swig from his brand new mixed drink. “You wanna play?” He flashes his screen at you again, lit up way too bright with the questions he’d found online. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a sure nod. “Give me your worst.”

And, without being able to help it, you’re peeking over your shoulder once more. 

You find Jake’s eyes, dark and waiting for you, before you’re both turning back to your tasks at hand. 

Your tummy is positively fluttering as Sammy asks his first question.

“What’s one of the craziest things you’ve ever done?”

Not helping the giggle that bubbles out of your chest, you know exactly what your answer is.  

Ironic. 

“Craziest things I’ve ever done…” you hum, already knowing what you’re going to say when you give him a tiny smile. “Well, one of the craziest things I’ve ever done is definitely agreeing to star in a project film with a bunch of people I really didn’t know worth shit.”

His signature cackle comes to join your giggle, and you feel totally at ease in the moment. 

God, he’s easy to talk to. 

“That’s fucking hilarious,” he responds. Then, there’s a wholesome smile under his mustache, his eyes encompassing a brand new emotion. “But I’m really glad you did it.”

And, with Sam’s precious face making you feel a little giddy, and the feeling of eyes burning into the back of your neck making your stomach feel heavy with want, you say the only thing you can think of. 

It’s simple.

“Me too.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The chill of the night is nearly unbearable as you’re waiting in the line for the hayride that takes you to the haunted house, and you’ve found yourself regretting your choice of attire.

Your pleather jacket isn’t doing a damn thing to block the crisp breeze, and the small amount of alcohol you had ingested earlier has completely worn off, so you can’t rely on that to warm your system. 

Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest in a desperate attempt to use your own body heat to warm up, but  there isn’t any heat left to be used. You’re sure everyone can hear the incessant chattering of your teeth and the jingling of your jewelry from your uncontrollable shivers.

Michigan cold feels different than Oklahoma cold. Your body clearly hasn’t adjusted to the northern weather as of yet. (It also doesn’t help that you haven’t eaten a single thing since you woke up early this morning, but you turn that thought away fast. You’re not ready to confront that just yet.)

You half expected Sam to offer you his coat by now, but he’s too busy cutting up with Josh and Malachi at the moment to pay you any mind. You feel too awkward to ask, so you’ll just stand here and wait for your body to completely ice over while you wait for this fucking hayride that won’t allow you to be any warmer than you are right now. 

Hell, even Jake gave Stacy his coat, and she didn’t even have to ask for it. He just did it. 

And it doesn’t help that she can’t stop making her ‘pick me’ comments about how his coat is so big on her that she looks so tiny in it.

You’re annoyed as fuck that she’s here. The way she chimed in before you all left, nosing her way in to figure out where you all were going, just to get Jake to ask her to come. And of course he did. Of fucking course. 

So, she’s here. Bumbling about and talking about whatever comes to her dull mind. But, her looks give her a pass. You’ve found yourself wondering more than once tonight why they didn’t cast her as Guiniverre. Her beauty alone makes her more than qualified for the role. And if her acting is as good as everyone says, it just doesn’t make sense why she wasn’t chosen.

You’re really wishing Nat was here. She would just get it and share along with your annoyance. But she would definitely say something along the lines of what you’re thinking. She’s not one to hold back like you are.

(And you’re starting to understand why she referred to Stacy as a ‘moron.’)

The line has been still for well over forty five minutes at this point, and you’ve not even moved a quarter of an inch since you’ve been here.

This better be worth it.

Stacy decides to join in on the guys’ fun, making an obnoxious show of herself as she does so. You know she’s only doing it for the sake of Jake’s attention. 

And apparently Sam’s, too. 

She’s got her arm interlocked with his as they stand in front of you, making ‘jokes’ with one another that might actually make you hurl. 

Sam is too naive (and still a bit too inebriated) to understand her little game, but you’re not. 

And it should be pissing you off that she’s suddenly all over your date, but at least it’s keeping her from clinging to Jake.

The vexed look on Jake’s face says everything you’re thinking— his annoyance isn’t quite as subtle as yours. 

You’re a little relieved to find that he is also not thrilled about the situation. Everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves, and it’s not that you’re not, you just wish you weren’t so damn cold. 

A sudden gust of wind hits you like a frozen freight train. It’s nearly painful, piercing through your skin to your chilled bones. 

“Jesus!” You exclaim from the sharp gale, causing everyone to startle and snap their heads in your direction. 

“You alright?” Jake asks.

You notice the bright pink hue on his cheeks and the very tip of his nose, and you’ve heard him sniffle every few minutes since you’ve been here. You kind of feel bad for him. Having given up his coat to the little blondie keeping Sam’s attention far away from you, he must be as cold as you are. 

“I’m fine,” you fib through your jittering teeth. “I’m just so fucking cold.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad out tonight. Actually this whole month has been much colder than normal, I believe.” He cups his hands, bringing them up to his lips to blow warm air on them before sticking them back in the pockets of his skinny jeans.

You’re definitely not used to this kind of simple, small talk with Jake. And his annoyed demeanor has suddenly vanished. He no longer looks completely miserable, probably because he’s now ignoring Stacy’s obnoxious, forced laugh as she’s still messing around with Sam, Josh and Malachi just a few feet in front of you.

You’re absolutely over her at this point. The way she will snort out a fake laugh and casually peek over at Jake to see if he’s looking at her— it’s nauseating to watch, really.

“I think there’s a hot chocolate stand over there if you wan-” Jake starts, but he’s interrupted by Sam.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t realize you were so cold.” Sam says, wrapping his arms around your frigid body and rubbing his hands up and down your back to warm you up.

You’re grateful for his body heat, the way it instantly puts your endless shivers to rest.

But you wish he would’ve waited until Jake finished his thought. (And you wish Jake were the one warming you up instead.) 

But while in Sam’s embrace, you catch Jake watching, glaring. 

His jaw becomes tightly clenched, his chest rising up and down rapidly with his deep breaths, his eyes narrowed in on you wrapped tightly in his brother's arms.

And even as Stacy waltzes her way to him, tucking herself into his body, seeking his warmth, (quite literally just mimicking you and Sam) Jake's burning gaze doesn’t cease.

You’ve stood like this for so long that you don’t even realize you’re all next in line for the hayride. 

Sam helps guide you in the back of the wagon, being sure you don’t slip on the unstable wooden step. Josh and Malachi pile in shortly after you, then Jake and Stacy. 

You wince as you take a seat on the sharp hay, wishing even more that you would’ve chosen something thicker than your skirt. The hay is stabbing you through your clothes, and no efforts in situating yourself to find a comfortable spot are proving to be successful. 

“Here, “ Sam says, patting his thigh. “Sit on my lap, you’ll be a lot more comfortable.” 

The dry hay may as well be needles poking your ass, so you don’t turn down his offer. Plus, his body heat will also come in handy as you’ve got a pretty substantial way to go before you reach the haunted house. 

He holds you close to him by your waist as you situate yourself on his warm thighs, but you hear a rather unpleasant scoff coming directly from Jake’s mouth as you do so. And so does everyone else, apparently, as everyone looks his way at the sound.

Sammy snickers, asking “You good over there, Jacob?” 

His condescending tone catches you completely off guard. And clearly has pissed off Jake. 

“Sam, it’s in your best interest to shut the fuck up.” Jake angrily retorts. 

Stacy is seated next to him, a ridiculous smile splayed on her unaware, perfect face. Giggling and laughing when she has absolutely no clue what’s going on between the brothers.

(If you’re completely honest, you’re not entirely sure you do, either.)

But the tension is evident, nonetheless. And she is obviously incapable of picking up on it. 

But what she does pick up on, is how you're seated comfortably on top of Sammy's lap, giving her the idea to also do that. Because for some fucking reason, she feels the need to always do the exact same thing you and Sammy do. 

You have to hold back your laugh as she moves to sit on Jake, and he tells her it’s not a good idea and makes her sit back down on a dirty piece of hay. 

Serves her fucking right.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

A slew of bloody, killer clowns lead you all out of the hay covered wagon. Their makeup is…mediocre at best. Not the most realistic you’ve ever seen but you can tell there was at least a little more than minimal effort put into their costuming.

Stacy, of course, is screaming at the top of her lungs with each move they make, attaching herself to Jake in an obnoxious manner that almost prohibits him from being able to walk. The look on his features tells you he’s less than pleased with her actions, but he doesn’t stop her. 

They then lead you all to the beginning of their ‘Three Ring Maze of Horrors,’ guiding you through the dark black lit entrance. The sounds of exaggerated screams and wails can be heard through their less than adequate sound system, playing on an endless loop along with circus music in an eerie minor key. 

A typical cliche; nothing you haven’t seen adapted a hundred times before. The concept is a bit overdone in your eyes. Being the horror fan that you are, you’re pretty desensitized to things like this. It takes a lot to scare you anymore. But, you still enjoy the atmosphere nonetheless.

Not only was Jake chosen to be the designated driver tonight, it was a collective decision to have Jake lead the whole group through the haunted house. Of course, Stacy is close behind, clutching his back and burying her face into his jacket, seeking her pick-me attention yet again from him.

You and Sam are close behind, with you in front of him. He’s not quite as brave as you are, closely mimicking the reactions of  Stacy, much to your annoyance. 

Josh and Malachi are the tail end, clinging to one another as they both share in their fear together.

You and Jake seem to be the only ones who aren’t phased in the least. He’s hardly even winced at a single bloody clown threatening to have him for dinner. 

But with every jump and yell of a clown, comes a blood curdling scream from Stacy that is far more dramatic than necessary. 

Again, you have to fight back your laughter at the fact that Jake quite literally shrugs her off and ignores her every time. It appears he’s not buying any of her shit anymore tonight.

Sam, on the other hand, is much more fearful than you would have initially thought. (Especially considering they do these every year. Surely he doesn’t think this one is bad, right?) 

He’s basically using you as a human shield everytime a clown reaches for him, squealing and bending down to your height to hide himself behind you while you simply look at the clowns and wave, being the pretentious asshole you are. 

You’re thankful that both him and Stacy can’t see the ceaseless rolling of your eyes each time they make a fuss over something that is not as scary as they’re making it out to be. Yeah, you’ve jolted backwards from a jumpscare or two, but the whole thing is planned out in a way that you can almost guess exactly when and where an actor will strike. It’s textbook for spook houses. Some of them (including this one) are incredibly predictable. 

As you’re finally nearing the end of this poor excuse of a fear seeking thrill, you catch the smallest glimpse of a grotesque clown's meticulous hiding spot. But he’s not hidden as well as he thinks, since you can still spot him even with the neon lights flashing about in an attempt to disorient your vision.

Jake is walking closer and closer to his spot, and you have a pretty good feeling that he’ll strike once Jake is within the appropriate distance. 

You see the clown prepare himself and just as Jake is in the perfect spot, he jumps out in front of him, letting out a rather deafening wail. 

Jake clearly did not see him, having the ever loving shit scared out of him and raising his fist to throw a punch at the actor. 

Thankfully, the clown tucked himself back away in his little hiding spot before Jake could throw his self-defense punch. 

Why was that so fucking hot?

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

After a rather interesting time out, you’ve all finally made it back to their apartment.

The night ran a little later than you intended, so you’re making haste in preparing to leave so you can get home. Sammy isn’t too keen on you leaving just yet, offering hug after hug in an  attempt to keep you here a little longer with him.

I don’t deserve him.

“Do you really need to leave?” Sam asks, his tone of voice telling you he’s got something special in mind. You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t intriguing to you. “It’s pretty late, you know. I’d hate for you to drive all the way home at this hour. You’re more than welcome to stay here.” His wink sends a swarm of butterflies to your undeniably  eager tummy.

You hear Josh agree that it’s a good idea as he and Malachi are making their way up the stairs to their room. You instinctively look to Jake to try and gauge his thoughts, but, as usual, you can’t read his stone cold face.

If circumstances with your mom were different, you might agree. But you’ve been gone from her for far too long. And being away from her overnight just simply isn’t an option.

“I wish I could, but I’ve got piles of homework sitting on my bed waiting for me.” Again, that’s a lie. But telling everyone the true reason is a task for another night. 

“Will you at least text me that you’ve made it home safe?” Sam asks. His request sends a wave of warmth to your heart. The fact that he just fucking cares about you, and makes it evident.

“I will, Sam. I promise.” 

You start gathering your things that you left on the couch earlier, and as you’re about to open the front door, you hear something that sends a boiling heat to your blood.

“Sam's right, Stacy. It isn’t safe to be out driving at this hour. I’m going to insist that you stay here tonight.” Jake tells her. 

Don’t stay, don’t stay, d-

“I’d love to, Jakey!” her squealing voice answers.

Jakey?

“You can just sleep in my room, if you want,” he continues. 

As if your blood wasn’t heated enough, now it’s blistering. 

You cock your head in Jake’s direction, and his eyes are frozen solid on you.

He’s doing this on purpose. He’s getting even with you for all of your antics with Sam tonight.

Fuck you, Jake. 

She follows him down the hall to his room, and when you hear his bedroom door shut after they walk in together, you decide that enough is enough.

You throw your stuff back down on the couch and stomp your way towards Sammy who’s staring at you with wide eyes.

Non verbally agreeing to his inquisition, you wrap your arms around his neck and attach your lips to his with everything you’ve pent up from the entire night, letting it all out on Sammy who’s willing to take it with no question.

He doesn’t break away to ask what changed your mind, he just reciprocates the same passion you’ve bestowed upon him. He’s practically clawing at your body to bring you closer, shoving his tongue past your lips and moaning straight into your open, hungry mouth.

With no more thoughts running through your mind, you leap into his ready arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands reach to cup your ass. 

He starts carrying you up the stairs, holding your body as if you weigh nothing. His lips only detach from yours long enough to open his bedroom door and carry you in, carefully letting you to fall on his mattress. 

He wastes no time crawling on top of you, sucking the skin of your neck before finding your lips once again.

You grab hold of his white button up and tug on it until it reaches his shoulders, digging your nails into the now exposed skin of his back.

He lifts up to take it all the way off his body, tossing it across the room somewhere before gracefully flipping you both so you’re now on top, straddling him, your skirt now fully bunched up around your hips as his hands begin kneading the flesh of your thighs over your black tights. 

You grind yourself on his body in desperate search for a release to ease the built up tension tonight has caused you.

“Shit, y/n,” he hisses, moving his hands to your hip bones to help guide you even further into him.

The moan you let out is one you’re sure everyone else in the apartment heard, but you couldn’t begin to care even if you wanted to.

I hope he fucking heard that. 

You lean yourself down, your lips flush against his once again, making a show of sticking your ass out as much as you can.

“Y/n,” Sam pulls away from you. You chase after him, but he stops you again. “Hey, are you sure you want this?” he whispers.

You find his question to be utterly ridiculous. Of course you want it. 

Even though it may not be for the right reasons…

You lift yourself up to look him in the eyes, “Do you not want this?” you ask, a bit of defensiveness in your tone.

His hand reaches out to pull you back down to him, enveloping your lips with a long, drawn out kiss that steals every breath of air from your lungs.

“I have wanted this since I fucking laid eyes on you,” he utters against your parted lips. “I just want to make sure that you are ready.”

You don’t want to think anymore, you don’t want him to think anymore. 

Instead of using words to tell him just how badly you want this, you lift back up to tear your shirt off your body, leaving just your black bra on your top half. There’s no use in overthinking that, considering he’s already seen your breasts due to the sheer nature of your black lace piece for the film.

“Fuck,” he whispers, running his hands up your bare stomach, reaching to gently cup your still clothed chest. His thumbs trace delicately over your hardened nipples through the fabric, a rise in goosebumps enveloping your body. “You are so goddamn sexy, y/n.”

Just as you’re about to lean back into him, you notice something catching his eye. You instantly realize what it is. 

Fuck. You weren’t ready for that yet.

“What’s this?” He traces the outline of your tattoo etched under your right breast, no longer disguised under the heavy stage makeup you’ve used during filming. Your body stiffens at the realization. 

Now that he’s officially witnessed the most personal part of you, it suddenly registers what you’re doing. 

And the anxiety becomes all consuming. All you want to do is cover up, to hide.

At this point, you’re only doing this to get to Jake. It’s absolutely not fair to Sam, using him and his affection for you like this. It’s not fair to yourself, either.

This isn’t what you want. But you’ve convinced yourself that it is, letting it go so far that your best kept, most intimate secret has officially been revealed. 

You begin feeling a loss of your sacred identity, a piece of yourself that you weren’t ready to share just yet. 

It’s much deeper than the tattoo at this point. 

What the fuck am I doing?

You swing your leg over Sam, removing yourself from his body and searching frantically for your shirt.

You have to get out of here. You should’ve just fucking gone home.

“Y/n?” His voice sounds shaky and unsure. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it so far.” He stands from the bed to meet you, the concern painted on his features shattering your heart. 

As bad as you feel right now, you would’ve felt a thousand times worse had you continued this whole thing for all the wrong reasons.

“You didn’t do anything, Sam. I need you to know that. I just—“ Fuck. You don’t want to hurt him. And you don’t want him thinking any of this is his fault because it absolutely isn’t. “I thought I was ready, I don’t think I am. I’m so sorry, Sammy.”

You swallow down the massive wave of tears threatening to fall, but you can’t help the wetness forming in your ducts.

You’re angry with yourself for letting it get this far. You’re angry that you almost used someone who’s been nothing but kind to you to get to someone else, for your own selfish purposes. And you’re angry that you almost gave yourself fully to him without being ready to do so. 

And for allowing him to see a part of you that practically no one knows about. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, cupping your cheek. You know he can see the tears welling in your eyes, as much as you wish he didn’t. “Please don't be sorry. I’m only into this if you are. You call the shots, okay? I don’t want you to ever feel rushed.”

“I think I’ll just go home, if that’s okay.” You pull your shirt back on over your head, wanting nothing more than to be in one of your giant sweaters for just a semblance of comfort right now. 

“Of course that’s okay. Do you want me to walk you out?” He asks. His sweet, quiet voice is comforting you a little, but you can’t shake the guilt you’re carrying heavily on your shoulders right now enough to find enough solace.

You tell him no, that you’re okay to walk out on your own. You can’t bear letting him do anything else for you. You just need to go.

He hugs you goodbye, telling you to be safe and reminding you once more to text him when you get home.

You tell him you will, and walk out of his room, shutting the door behind.

As you run down the stairs, you’re immensely hoping that no one is down there to see you leaving but as you reach the last step, that hope you were clinging to is no more.

It’s Jake. Rummaging through the fridge in the dark kitchen, and to make matters worse, (and slightly more awkward) the only thing on his body is a pair of black sweatpants. 

And when he turns to face you, you realize how low they’re sitting on his waist. Low enough that you can see his hip bones and a small trail of hair sticking up from the waistband. Fuck. His hair is an absolute mess, tangled and sticking to his sweaty, flushed face.

You would enjoy the view, but you know good and well why he looks like this. And you know Stacy is still in his room, probably in a very similar state. 

He watches you while your hurriedly head to the door, not stopping to say a single fucking word to him. He mutters something to you as you shut the door, but you don’t bother turning around to catch what he said. You just ignore him, practically racing to your car to get the hell out of here. 

You throw the driver's side door open, slamming it shut once you’re seated. You sit in silence, laying your head on  the steering wheel while the levees in your eyes finally break. The tears are uncontrollable, and leaving right now would prove useless as your vision is completely blurred.

The disappointment in yourself is ripping your soul in two. 

And you feel so fucking bad for Sam. You made him feel as though he was to blame. But the real reason for everything that transpired is so terrible. This isn’t like you, to take advantage of someone for the sole purpose of making someone else jealous. 

Someone as lovely as Sam who absolutely doesn’t deserve something so cruel. 

You’ve successfully lead him on in ways you never intended, all for the sake of someone who can hardly hold  a normal conversation with you. 

You feel like you’re beneath the lowest levels of the earth right now. 

You’re just ready to be home. All you want right now is to be tucked away in the comfort of your bed, to finally go to sleep and forget about everything for a while.

And the reality of how long you’ve been away from your mom is setting in, yet another thing to feel guilty about. 

You choke back your sobs, fanning your eyes with your hands to dry them enough to see. 

You take your key and turn it in the ignition, waiting for the car to start.

Nothing. 

You pull it out and try once more. It almost starts to turn over, but the laggy engine isn’t doing anything other than sputtering and heaving. 

You wait a minute before you try again, giving it a second to breathe and praying to every god in the universe that it’ll start.

In one last ditch effort, you hold the key as long as you possibly can this time until you hear a loud pop from under the hood. Then, total silence. 

This isn’t happening…

You try the ignition once more just to see if by some miracle it’ll start, but it won’t even try to turn over now. There’s no more power.

Your car is fucking toast. And there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. 

The last thing you want to do is go back inside to ask for a ride. But at this point, your options are rather limited.

Your first thought is to try and call Natalia. But both times you try, it goes straight to voicemail.

Great.

You have to get  home, even if that means swallowing your shame and going back for Sam’s help.

With a reluctant and heavy sigh, you leave your car and drag your feet back to their apartment.

You turn the knob of the front door to find that it’s still unlocked. (Thank god you don’t have to knock.)

But when you quietly step in, you’re mortified to see Jake and Josh now awake and in the kitchen, snapping their heads sharply upon you entering.

“Jesus Christ!” Josh shouts, his whole bodying jolting forward into Jake’s in a dramatic display. 

You feel bad for scaring him so bad, but his comical reaction does bring a hint of a smile to your face. Although you’re far too upset to laugh right now. 

“You okay, love?” Josh asks with a gentle voice while he quickly walks over to you, looking at you with sweet concern.

You know for a fact that your mascara has left streaks of black down your face, so you’re sure you look absolutely insane right now but you couldn’t be bothered to fix it before you came back inside. 

“Um, my car-“ you start, clearing your throat to strengthen your weak voice. “My car broke down and I need a ride. I really have to get home.”

Without as much as a single question, Josh takes his coat off the rack and grabs his keys off the hook beside the door, but he’s promptly cut off by Jake swiping them away from his hand.

“You’ve been drinking, Josh,” he says while hanging the keys back in their spot. “Driving isn’t a good idea.”

“She needs to get home,” Josh argues, ripping his keys off the hook yet again. “I’m completely fine. I’ll take her.”

Jake takes the damn keys back again, this time shoving them in the pocket of his sweatpants to ensure Josh can’t get ahold of them. “No. There’s goddamn liquor running through your blood. I’m not letting you drive. Don’t be a fucking idiot.”

“Do you want to take her, then?” Josh asserts, rubbing a frustrated hand across his forehead. 

God, please no. 

The thought of being in a car alone with Jake is enough to make you put your foot down on that idea. But you’re also not too keen on him seeing that you live in one of the most rundown, shitty complexes in the entire city. 

But Jake is right, as much as you’d hate to admit. With as intoxicated as Josh had been earlier, it’s not smart that he drives you. You can still smell the alcohol on his breath and he’s not even standing that close to you.

“Just go get Sam,” Jake responds, stomping off to his room. 

Josh grunts and matches his heavy footing up the stairs to Sam’s room, leaving you standing there alone and wondering what the fuck this whole night has become. 

A few minutes pass, and as Josh is heading back down the stairs, you notice he’s alone and appearing even more irate than he was previously. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n. He’s completely passed out and won’t move. I’ll just have to get Jake to take you since he’s so insistent that I can’t drive.”

Fuck. 

Before you can oppose, he’s already knocking on his door.

“Jake, put a goddamn shirt on and take her home.” He yells, not caring enough to quiet his voice for the sake of the others who are fast asleep. 

You take a peek down the hallway to catch Jake tossing open the door, damn near slamming Josh with it while aggressively putting on a Jimi Hendrix hoodie.

Stepping into a pair of black vans, he takes what you assume are his keys from the hook, already halfway out the door before he asks, “Are you coming, y/n?”

His tone pisses you the hell off— he’s not hiding the fact that he’s not thrilled about this. Both with his tone of voice and his assertive body language.

Sorry to inconvenience you so goddamn much. 

You’re not in any mental state to argue; getting home is your only goal right now. 

“Yep.” You sneer, grudgingly following him out the door to his car.

You had seen the practically brand new, matte black Range Rover sitting in the parking lot plenty of times, but you never gathered that it was his. 

Although you should have guessed, given the way it so perfectly matches his aesthetic. You recently discovered his affinity for all things piratical, learning from Josh that the medallions he wears around his neck are ancient coins found amongst the ruins of old shipwrecks. He also told you about Jake’s childhood obsession with Johnny Depp's famous portrayal of the beloved Jack Sparrow character, so you’re not the least bit surprised when you see ‘BLK PRL’ engraved in the metal license plate. Clearly a nod to that part of himself. (That you can’t help but find awfully endearing.)

It’s nice. Really fucking nice. And clearly very well taken care of as there’s not a single flaw to be found.

The question remains– how the hell does a college student afford one of the nicest apartments you’ve ever seen and a new Range Rover? 

You still don’t know what he does for work, but you don’t care enough at the moment to find out.

To your shock, he pulls a pure gentleman move by opening the passengers door for you and helping you in his car. Something you certainly hadn’t planned on but found rather charming. 

Once he verifies that you’re in and secure, he shuts the door and heads to the drivers side, letting himself in and starting the engine. 

He begins backing out of the driveway, one hand on the steering wheel and one on the headrest of your seat, his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth in concentration. You find it all to be inexplicably attractive and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

But when his eyes catch your stare, you look away, hoping he doesn't realize just how long you’d been watching. 

“Where do you live?” he asks while putting the car in drive. 

You don’t want to tell him. You don’t want him knowing that you live in one of the worst areas in the entire Detroit, Ann Arbor area. 

But you no longer have a choice. 

“Redwood Apartments,” you say quietly, wishing that this whole thing wasn’t happening. “Down on north Highland, just a block away from Meijer down the road.” 

“Yeah, I think I know where that’s at.” He nods his head as he begins to take off in the direction of your home.

The car is completely silent, the rumbling tires against the pavement being the only thing you can hear. Neither of you says a word for what feels like hours, but when you look at the clock, you realize your trek began only ten minutes ago. It’s a solid twenty minutes between your place and theirs, so you still have another agonizing ten minutes left to go. 

Once you hit a red light, Jake reaches to the center console for his phone and unlocks it, handing it to you with his screen open on his Spotify page. 

“Pick something to listen to,” he says as the light turns green once again. 

It feels utterly illegal to be in charge of his phone right now. But you’re also a fan of having something to listen to that isn’t your combined breaths and the sound of his heavy tires rolling against the road. 

You take the opportunity to scroll through his playlists, seeing literally hundreds of them categorized quite specifically. 

Picking the one titled ‘Fave Psychedelic,’ you scroll through until you find Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix. An old favorite of yours and the song you instantly thought of when you saw him put on his hoodie. 

You set his phone back down as the song begins, feeling your spirits beginning to lift upon hearing the transcendent tonality that can only be described as the Hendrix experience.

Even Jake can’t sit still, nodding his head to the beat and tapping his fingers to the rhythm of Jimi’s strumming. 

“Good choice,” he mutters, humming along to the classic tune.

“I must say, though,” he continues. “I actually prefer Stevie Ray Vaughan’s take on this one, especially when he played it live. He just exuded the very essence of Jimi, took everything he did and amplified the hell out of it while showing nothing but respect to the original masterpiece.”

Stevie is another favorite of yours. God, the hours you spent during your childhood watching him play, appreciating the passion and time he put into his art. 

You went through years being bullied relentlessly for your taste in ‘old people’ music, having never found anyone else who shares the same musical palate with you.

Until now.

Having this conversation with Jake is something you so desperately needed right now. 

“I completely agree,” you say, searching for his cover on Spotify and adding it to the queue. “The way he could make his guitar sing, like you can hear his emotion through his strings. One of the only guitarists worthy of being compared to Hendrix.”

You’re thinking about Jake’s style, his hats and choice of mostly black attire, his mass amounts of jewelry… it suddenly dawns on you that he must really love Stevie because his style is so closely linked to his. A style you’ve been attracted to since you can remember. 

You’re shocked that you’ve not picked up on that until now, but it perfectly explains your instant infatuation for him.

“Absolutely,” he responds. “They’re both my biggest inspirations with my own music. I have so much admiration for them, and Clapton, Petty, Harrison, all the rock and roll greats who incorporated the deep roots of the blues in their playing.”

Imagining him playing like some of your favorites… it’s nothing but elating. Your imagination is running rampant with picturing him playing the kind of music you’ve spent so much of your life deeply appreciating. The music that connected your soul to things far beyond the physical realm. 

“I’d love to hear you play sometime,” you say, turning a bit shy at your sudden valiant request. 

Stopped at another red light, he looks to you with the most genuine smile you’ve yet to see from him. “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You suck in a deep breath as Jake makes it closer to your apartment complex. 

Lights. Flashing of blinding red and blue. 

In the parking lot of your complex.

Fire trucks, police cars, an ambulance. All situated in front of the run down building. 

“What the hell is going on? I can’t even make it in the parking lot, jesus.” Jake is driving around in slow circles trying to find a place to enter that isn’t blocked by cops.

It’s all beginning to set in. You feel your heart plummeting to the depths of your stomach, your breaths barely filling the capacity of your lungs.

Your worst fear. 

You shouldn’t have fucking left her.

“Jake. Pull over. Now.” 

You pull your seatbelt off, grabbing the handle of his passenger's door but it won’t open. You try tugging on it further, realizing it’s locked.

Jake picks up on the urgency in your voice and abruptly slams on the brakes, throwing the gear shift into park to unlock the doors. 

“Y/n, what are you–” he tries to ask, but you’re already out of the car and sprinting towards the maelstrom of lit up vehicles. 

But as you’re stepping over the curb into the lot, an officer stops you. 

“Ma’am, you need to stay back. They’re about to carry someone out and we can’t let you over there just yet,” he says, holding your forearm to stop you. 

Using every bit of strength you can muster in the moment, you pull away from him and continue running. You hear him yelling for you to stop, but his shouting is muffled by the voice in your head telling you to get to your mom now.

As you make it closer, you see them pulling a gurney down from the second floor. 

The floor your apartment rests on.

They pull it down the stairs slowly, and they’re angled in a way that you can’t see who they’re carrying. 

All you can do is stand there and wait amongst the paramedics and EMTs who are trying to tell you that you’re not supposed to be here. 

But they’re blurred images to you. The only thing you can see clearly is the gurney being wheeled in your direction, squeaking metal being the only sound that fills your ears.

And as it finally reaches you, your fear is imagined. 

Her swollen face is distorted by an oxygen mask, her weak body bound to the flat table by straps holding her tight to its cold metal. 

Her right hand dangles off the side, swaying back and forth lifelessly with every push and pull of the wheels. 

You lunge yourself forward towards her, being stopped forcefully by two officers who’ve been telling you this whole time to step back. The weight of their bodies against yours knocks the wind from your lungs, hardly allowing your choked cry for her to be heard. 

“I have to go with her!” You scream as they situate the gurney in the back of the ambulance. 

One of the paramedics steps between you and the cops, taking your hand and looking you in the eye. The kindest  gesture you’ve encountered in the midst of this whole thing.“Honey, you can’t be in there when they take her. You can drive yourself and meet them at the emergency room, okay?” she tells you.

But your car. You don’t have your fucking car. It’s sitting completely useless at the Kiszka’s complex. Without it, you have no way of getting there.

You suddenly feel another hand on your body, your left shoulder. It’s warm. Firm. Yet soft and assuring all at once. 

It pulls you from your disorientation, grounding you. You peek over your shoulder to see Jake standing there, his presence crashing in like a wave of peace over the chaotic storm that has become your reality.

Your eyes become wet at the mere sight of him. 

He’s still here. 

“Come on,” he utters calmly, moving his grip down to your hand, interlocking his fingers tight with yours. “I’ll take you.”

a/n: i'd love to hear your thoughts about everything! as i said, this one was tough for me to write, but it was something i desperately needed to do.

i hope you all love it as much as i do. 🤍

(i would also like to apologize again for taking so long with this one. i promise the next chapter won’t take nearly as long.)

if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. ☺️

sending all my love!

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @klarxtr @watchingover-hypegirl @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface  @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflame4goinghome @heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @nina-23-45 @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon @gretasfallingsky @i-love-gvf @styles-canvas @mackalah @gvfmarge @sarafrusciante2 @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @highway-tuna @vikingsisthenewsexy @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @citylight-delight @blacksoul-27 @hippievanfleet @jazzyfigz @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @smoking-jakelane @hernameis-heaven

i'm fairly certain i've included everyone but if i've forgotten you, please let me know! (& i sincerely apologize)

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #sam kiszka fic #jake fic #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fleet fic #jake kiszka fluff #greta van fleet smut #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #greta van smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet #le morte d’arthur #gvf

[shimmerwindow]

i never really

They call it cuffing season, but you don’t have time for a relationship – finals are coming up, and it’s your junior year at your dream school. But there’s something about this guy, Sam, that makes you forget all about your degree. And his brothers seem to like it when he brings you around.

Pairing: Sam x female!Reader, Jake x female!Reader

Word Count: 70k (wip)

Cover by the lovely @bimbokiszka

This is a WIP that will be updated weekly-ish :)

General Tags: College AU, sexual content, friends to lovers, marijuana use, cigarette use, alcohol use, angst, debilitating levels of mutual pining, this is technically a forbidden twin fic

✧ indicates smut

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight ✧

Part Nine

Part Ten ✧

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen ✧

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen ✧

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen ✧

Part Nineteen

#greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fic #jake kiszka fic #greta van smut #greta van fic #gvf smut #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka smut #gvf sam #gvf jake #greta van fleet sam #greta van fleet jake #greta van fleet fan fiction #sam kiszka fan fiction #jake kiszka fan fiction #i never really

[emsfallingsky]

Indignation

Sam X Reader

Word Count: 10.1K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Angst, jealous, alcohol, mentions of cheating. Graphic sexual content, language, unprotected sex, choking? fingering, kissing, edging, name calling.

Four months ago

“Sammy, where were you last night?” you asked him, remembering the phone call from the night before. Sammy looked at you and shrugged, brushing you off a bit as he took a sip from his drink.

“No where?” he replied sitting back on the couch. You frowned at him walking around the side of it and sitting down next to him. 

“You sure? You made it seem like it was something serious- important…” you said, looking back at him with a look of concern written on your face. Sam shifted around in his seat a bit awkwardly, not breaking his attention away from the show you had put on earlier. 

Sam clicked his tongue to his teeth and cocked his head to the side looking at you. His expression almost looked like he was a bit pissed off and his eyes were set harshly on you. “No offense but it’s not really any of your business,” he spat, pushing his tongue to the inside of his cheek and taking another sip of his drink, his cold stare pouring into you over the rim of it. 

You blinked a couple times and frowned at his response, feeling a bit taken back by the sudden harshness of his voice. “Well, no offense, but I think it is a bit of my business since you made it seem like it was such a big deal and the fact that you suddenly had to do this ‘thing’ at one in the morning,” you spat, crossing your arms over your chest as you shifted your weight on the couch. 

Sam let out a scoff and twisted himself on the couch, so he now faced you. He let out a deep sigh, his eyes locking onto you, his brown eyes that normally were so bright and warm now looking dark and cold. ‘God, you really just have to fucking push at poke your way into everything hm?’

Your eyes grew wide and you shook your head, your mind feeling scrambled as a bunch of different emotions and thoughts swirled around in your head. ‘My fucking bad for wanting to know where and what my boyfriend is doing at one in the morning!’ you spat back, raising your voice a bit. 

Sam shifted in his seat and threw his hands up in the air. ‘See! That’s always the fucking problem isn’t it! Gotta be all up in my fucking business 24/7. God! Can’t even fucking breathe when I’m around you sometimes,” Sam spat back, scoffing while he waved his hands around wildly. 

“Jesus christ! You know that’s not true Sam! Just wanted to make sure you were okay since you wouldn't tell me. My fucking bad for being your caring girlfriend and wanting to check in on you,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Don’t get a fucking attitude with me! Fucking bullshit. You know what…I don’t want to deal with this tonight, I think I’m gonna leave,’ Sam spat back, quickly rising to his feet. 

“Sam c’mon! Don’t fucking do this right now. You don’t have to leave,” you said, finding your own self quickly rising to your feet. 

“Nah, I’m over this shit. Always some bullshit with you,” Sam replied, throwing on his jacket. 

“You’re seriously getting mad at me because I was worried about where you were and what you were doing at one in the fucking morning Sam!?’ you yelled at him, hoping your words would render in his head and make him understand.

Sam scoffed and was about to reach for your front door when he turned around, letting out a small laugh that you knew was anything but kind. He rolled his eyes, looking at the ceiling, pushing his tongue against his cheek before setting his eyes squarely on yours. He smirked at you and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "You really wanna know what I was doing?” Sam asked smugly. 

“Yes Sam, that’s all I’m asking,” you said, letting out a breath of relief hopefully about to get the answer you had been waiting to hear. 

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. ‘Went to go pay an old girlfriend of mine a visit.”

You felt your whole body suddenly freeze at his words. All the anger that had been pent up inside of you quickly washed away and a sudden wave of nausea came over you, settling into the pit of your stomach. “Y-you what?” you asked, blinking a couple times, trying to make sure you had heard everything correctly. 

‘You heard me,” Sam replied, clenching his jaw tightly together while he stared at you blankly. 

“W-what the fuck Sam. W-why- fuck! Did you…Sam did you fucking sleep with her?” you asked, feeling your mind start to spiral as all the emotions that were wracking inside your brain pushed forward all at once. 

“Cause, you’re fucking exhausting sometimes! Just needed a fucking break,” Sam said, running his hands through his hair. 

Hot tears welled in your eyes and your vision became blurry as you stared back at him. You felt the familiar ache of your throat constricting as you tried to blink back tears. You swallowed thickly and looked back at him, preparing yourself for the blow you were about to get. “Did you fuck her?” you whispered.

Sam looked at you, his face showing no emotion and his eyes looking so soulless that it made a chill run up your spine. “If that’s what you want to call it…then yes. I fucked her.”

Now four months later, you found yourself sitting at your vanity lazily swiping on dark eyeshadow as you tried to get ready for a night out. You weren’t too quick to hop on the idea of going out but after the endless nagging from your friends and comments that they had barely seen you since you and Sam split, suddenly the idea didn’t seem too far-fetched. 

You wouldn’t say you made much of an effort on deciding what to wear outfit and makeup wise, but you did decide on something a little flashier than your everyday wear. You decided on a black smokey eyes and to keep the pattern going, settled on a simple black dress that hung to your curves and your old, but trustworthy pair of docs. 

One of your friends texted you the name of the bar along with the address and what time to meet. You laced up your boots and grabbed a leather jacket and took a quick glance at your phone to double check the time. You grabbed your keys and were soon on your way to the bar.

As you pulled up to the bar, you took a look around noticing the fluorescent lights of the sign that bounced off the old brick of the building and a good amount of cars parked on the outside. The street had a few people walking by the outside of it and some stopped to check out the bar or make their way inside. You never usually come to this part of town so you weren’t familiar with this bar but based on the looks of it, it seemed like quite a popular spot. 

You parked your car and climbed out, walking quickly to the entrance since your gps had taken you through an alternative route, putting you a few minutes behind. You opened the front doors and quickly scanned the area before landing on your friends, seated at the corner and giving you a wave. You flashed them a smile and made your way over to them where they greeted you with big smiles and warm hugs. 

An hour or so went by and you were feeling good. The drinks were flowing and the alcohol had made you a bit more loose and you could feel the warmth radiating off of your face. You hadn’t realized but you had missed going out and having a good time with your friends. For the first time in a while, your mind wasn’t wandering back and lingering on the empty hole in your heart left by Sam. Instead, it was filled with smiles and loud laughter that you didn't know you had desperately needed. 

Your friend was in the middle of telling a story when you saw her eyes flash up above your head and then grow wide. You frowned and she ducked back down and met your eyes. “Fuck, I think I just saw Sam.”

You stared back at her, a look of shock on your face not knowing what to say. You opened your mouth to say something but she stopped you and took your hand. “Let's not let his presence ruin the evening. He hasn’t noticed you so let's just ignore him but it might be best if you don’t turn around,” she said, giving you a reassuring smile and small squeeze to your hand. You smiled back and nodded. Ignore him…right. No big deal. 

Your friends went back to chatting and you desperately tried to make yourself present in their conversation but you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that had crept up on you. Your foot had started to bounce and you found yourself taking frequent sips of your drinks trying to will yourself to not turn yourself around. You knew deep down you shouldn't but you desperately just wanted to catch a glimpse of Sam, just wanting to see him before your own eyes. 

You tried your best to shake off the feeling, trying your best to immerse yourself back in the conversation but you were suddenly drawn away by hearing laughter coming from behind you. A laugh that you could easily recognize and pick out anywhere. 

The tops of your knuckles grew white as you gripped your now empty glass that sat before you. You heard the sound of his voice in the background and you felt your jaw start to clench. You went to take another sip of your drink and when you looked down you noticed it was now empty. You excused yourself, walking over to the bar, making sure your back was kept turned away to avoid Sam. 

You made your way over to the bar, leaning against it while the bartender greeted you and took your order. As you waited, you plucked a straw from the dispenser next to you and began to fiddle with the end of the paper. You could hear Sam’s voice in the background and while it was faint, it was the only thing you were able to hear. 

The bartender slid your drink back to you and you gave a small smile as you thanked them. You took a sip of your drink and then you hear it again. The sound of his voice. You let out a sigh and clamped your eyes shut but then found yourself turning around to look over to where he was. 

Sam was standing next to his friends, leaning on a table with a drink in his hand. He was dressed in a denim button up that was held together by a single button, exposing his chest and a necklace that hung in the middle. His long hair draped over his shoulders and you watched as he lifted one of his hands, running it through his long locks. 

You felt your stare grow cold on him and you let out a small tsk, feeling anger start to boil within your veins. You found yourself disgusted at the idea that you had once cared for him after he showed you his true colors. Now the sight of him left you feeling sick. 

The word hate was one you didn’t often use but it was now the only word you could think of when you thought of him. You didn’t know how someone could be so selfish and ruin your whole relationship after you two had put in so much time and effort to build it.  

You let out a sigh and brought your drink up to your lips to take a sip. As you did, Sam’s eyes met yours over the rim of your glass. Your eyes immediately grew wide, and you watched as he frowned and blinked a couple of times before you watched his mouth form your name. You let out an internal groan and watched his face drop. 

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and sat down his drink on the table in front of him and you watched helplessly as he started to make his way towards you. You quickly threw back the rest of your drink and looked around the bar seeing a restroom sign and walked swiftly towards it. Sam was following close behind, calling your name and you fought with every fiber in your body to not turn around and face him. 

You rounded a corner and were about to push open the door of the restroom when you felt a gentle hand wrap around your shoulder, slowly turning you to him. You felt your body immediately freeze as you turned around. “Y/N, can we talk for a second,” Sam said

You didn’t meet his eye and looked down at the floor but his presence was something you couldn’t ignore. It felt like time was now at a standstill as the two of you stood in the small hallway. You took in a shaky deep breath only to be met with the smell of his cologne. You felt your teeth grit together and felt tears start to prick at the corner of your eyes. 

In the span of time that you two had broken up, you hadn’t really gone through what had happened much and let yourself fully comprehend the situation. You hadn’t spoken in full depth about what had happened, let alone come to terms yourself with it. All you felt was a deep pain and the only thing that seemed to linger was pent up anger and frustration. Now with him standing before you, you could feel that anger pulling at your edges, threatening to unleash your wrath upon him. 

The tears that now had formed in your eyes started to sting and you swallowed trying to push them aside. You blinked them back and shook your head, your attention still pointed down towards the floor. 

You couldn’t see it, but Sam’s eyes danced across your face as he tried to wrap his own head around everything. He opens his mouth to say something again but shuts it, not knowing how to get to you. He finds himself feeling a little lost and confused. There were times when talking to each other about the issues at hand had come so easy and natural and now as the two of you stood in front of each other, everything felt disconnected. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his hand start to come up but then you see him drop it. You hear Sam clear his throat and you can see his weight shift as he drops his head, leaning himself a bit into you as he speaks. “C’mon Y/N, just wanna talk…please talk to me.”

You feel the tears that were threatening your eyes spill over. You push your tongue to your cheek while you quickly shake your head. Sam reached out and took your hand in his. “Please…,” he sighs. “Look, I know I fucked up but…I-I still love you. Always have.”

Sam’s words hit you hard and you feel a rush of emotion spring forward. You hated the way he’s speaking to you and how he’s trying to sound sweet and empathetic knowing damn well he is at fault and the one to blame for all of this. 

The anger that you started to feel boil in your veins now felt like a blazing fire and every part of you wanted to scream. You slowly lifted your eyes off the floor and when you met his eyes, you felt yourself crumble to pieces.

His face was still handsome as ever and he had that look on his face you had seen many times before, that showcased just how guilty he truly felt. Sam’s eyes danced all over your face as he tried to read you and you felt yourself wanting to reach out and touch him but you pushed the thought aside. 

Sam’s hand was still gently wrapped around yours and you felt his thumb come to swipe over the top of it while he locked eyes with you. He swallows and you watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat. “I’m so sorry,” was all he whispered.

You feel your lip start to tremble and you watched as his eyes quickly glanced down, taking note of it. You quickly rip your hand away from his and shake your head once more before pushing open the bathroom door and locking yourself inside it. 

Sam takes a step back, taken by surprise by your sudden action while his eyes follow you as you close the door in front of him. His mouth is parted a bit, and his brows are knitted closely together out of confusion. He takes in a deep breath, clenching his jaw while feeling his own frustration settle upon him. 

As you now stand in the bathroom, you feel like your body is on fire. Your hands seem to have a mind of their own, mindlessly fidgeting with one another and your body can’t stand the thought of trying to remain still. You pace around the small room, taking in deep breaths while you try to calm yourself but find it nearly impossible. Your mind wrapped around itself while all of those ‘what if?’ questions shot its arrows at the walls you tried to pull up to protect yourself from falling down the dark hole you knew would send you spiraling.

With one final shaky breath, you found it within yourself to still your body for a second to try and get a better grip on the situation before you. The familiar ache that was left in your chest four months ago, was now once again making its presence known. You closed your eyes, placing one hand on your heart and inhaled through your nose, holding it for a second before releasing it fully. 

A long tear made itself known as it ran down the length of your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away with the back of your hand. You open your eyes, turning over to the sink and seeing your reflection in the mirror that is set above it. You took a few short steps towards it, running your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth down the edges as you tried to pull yourself together. 

You took a quick glance at the door since you’ve been met with nothing but silence from the other end for the past few minutes. Maybe he left…

Just as you were about to reach for the door, you heard a few soft knocks wrap against the door and the sound of Sam’s voice followed right behind. “Please…please just give me a chance and let me explain everything. Look, i-if you don’t want to now…then maybe another time but, I would like to talk to you about everything. Just open the door, please…open the door.”

The breath you took caught in your chest and you stared at the door, your eyes darting back and forth while your mind began to race far too quickly for you to collect any rational thought from it. You hated that he sounded so desperate and that he stood there behind the door pleading- begging for just one chance to let him in. You opened your mouth and went to find the right words to say to him but shut your mouth, failing to do so. 

You crossed your arms in front of you, bringing one of your hands to your bottom lip, rolling it between your thumb and pointed finger. You truly were at a loss of words. Somewhere deep down inside of you, you did want to talk it through, and you knew you desperately needed that closure, but it would come with consequences.

That part of you that had been left feeling fragile and wilted was because of Sam. You may not be healing or coming to terms the correct way but you were desperately trying to move on and you knew that opening up that old wound would only cause more harm than good.

“Please Peach.”

Damn it. Why? Why did he have to say the nickname he had given you, knowing exactly what it does to you. You felt that little impending flicker in your heart and you took in a deep breath. It couldn’t hurt…could it. 

With that final breath, you took a step forward, extending your hand out and unlocked the door. You slowly opened it and saw Sam leaning against the door frame. His eyes were cast down to the floor, but he quickly flicked them upward upon hearing the door open. 

Now with his face so close, you could see every detail. You observed him and watched while he let out a breath he had been holding and his shoulders dropped down. His eyes met yours, a genuine and heartfelt expression written upon it. The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly, almost undetected but you were able to catch it. 

“T-thank you,” Sam cleared his throat, “for opening the door.” He let out a little breathy laugh and brought his hand up to his face, his fingers brushing over the patch of hair on his upper lip. “I was kind of going crazy out here,” Sam mumbled, reaching out a hand and touching your shoulder. 

No. You shifted your body away, moving his hand off of you. You knew your boundaries and you weren’t going to let him step on them in any way. You cleared your throat and looked at him, putting on a brave face. “Please don’t touch me,” you said, your voice strong and unwavering as you spoke. 

“Sorry,” Sam said, quickly ripping his hand away. “Habit,” he mumbled. 

You rolled your eyes a bit and let out a huff. “Yeah, well you should maybe drop it then,” you spat, crossing your arms in front of you, suddenly feeling your blood start to boil. The anger pent up quickly was making itself known and while you tried to tell yourself that you would be able to talk to him calmly, you knew it was a lie. 

“W-why?” Sam asked frowning, tilting his head to the side while trying to read you. 

“Because I’m not yours anymore Sam,” you said with a scoff, leaning yourself against the opposite side of the doorframe, staring him down. Sam’s expression dropped and you watched him frown again, his face contorting into what you could only read as confusion. 

Sam then looked up and met your eyes again. “Oh…so-so you’re seeing someone then?”

You stood there, astounded by his words. You clenched your jaw, raising your eyebrows, trying to wrap your head around his question. You looked away, a small laugh of annoyance coming from you. “Okay first of all, you have no place to ask me that question or just assume that and second, even if I was…it’s none of your business,” you spat back. 

Sam looked at you, crossing his own arms over his chest and smirked. “Oh, so you’re not then?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows. 

A frustrated groan left you and you pushed off the door, taking a step forward towards him, feeling the anger starting to unravel. “Talking to you is fucking pointless and like I said it’s none of your business.”

Sam’s whole demeanor changed, and you watched his eyes bore into you. The soft-spoken side of him was now completely gone and instead his presence felt dark and heavy. Sam pushed his tongue to the side of his cheek, looked down and took a step forward, almost like a silent challenge. The image of him four months ago flashed into your mind. The same cold stare. 

His body now stood closely to yours and you sucked in a breath to only find it catch in your chest. “You know, I really don’t know why you’re so fucking cold to me. Don’t know why you suddenly act like this after and act like my love never meant anything to you.”

That piece of string that was holding you together at the edges suddenly snapped, making you fully unleash your wrath upon him. “Are you actually fucking kidding! You’re seriously standing here wondering why I act so fucking cold to you after you left to go fuck your ex?” You spat at him, moving your face dangerously close to him. 

Sam scoffs and rolled his eyes. “I was only over there for a bit,” he says in a tone that is too nonchalant and makes you clench your fists at your side. “And for the record, it was because I was fucking desperate ok. I do feel like shit about it,” Sam mumbled. 

You sneer back at him. “Excuses don’t fucking matter Sam. You cheated. Point blank.”

“I know!” Sam says in a raised voice, lifting his hands up and then running them through his hair whilst tugging on the roots. “Look I know I fucked up okay! It’s just- fuck, it was when we were going through a rough patch and I…I don’t know. I just needed something.”

“So you decided that something was going to your ex’s while your girlfriend sat at home and you could’ve easily talked and communicated what was going on?” You asked in utter disbelief. 

“God, Y/N! I know okay! I know! I regret it every fucking day. God…I- you know I still fucking love you,” Sam says, lifting his eyes to meet yours. The same look of desperation written on his face while his eyes danced around your face, trying to gather a response from you. 

A frown instantly formed on your face. “Fuck you Sam,” you said, moving to walk past him but he steps to the side blocking your path. You scoff and look down at the floor. 

“Please, just please…I wanna work through this.”

Now you’re the one to push your tongue to your cheek while slowly raising your eyes back up to meet his. Your stare became ice cold, and you hold his steady. “Well for the record, I hope it was good and everything you dreamed of,” you say coldly. 

Sam steps away, his face dropping. “No actually it wasn’t. Nothing…nothing is as good as it was with you. She- she was nothing…meant nothing.”

Your face drops a bit, but you quickly pull yourself back together and look straight at him. “If that’s the case and I’m really that ‘good’..., why did you never call or text? You do remember that I told you I wouldn’t mind continuing to hook up…” 

Sam pulls his mouth to the side and brings a hand up to scratch the back of his head. “If I’m being honest…I don’t know. I guess it just didn’t feel right. Felt guilt…still do. But I mean there were times I was tempted especially when I saw you at parties. I saw you that one night when we were all at Danny’s that one night and I swear I almost asked you but then decided not to. Found another girl to distract myself instead. I mean shit, that’s kind of the situation for every time I happened to see you out and about, whether it be at a party or not. Had to go and fill the void somehow but it just left me feeling guilty.”

You stood there in utter disbelief while Sam confessed and laid everything out for you. You didn’t know that’s how he had been feeling and a little part of you felt bad even though you knew you shouldn’t because it was his own reckless actions that led you both to where you are right now. 

Instead, you pulled yourself back together and glanced at him. “So…you’ve been hooking up with other people then?” you ask, crossing your arms over yourself. You don’t really know what willed you to ask the question, but you would be lying if you weren’t a bit curious. But something else lingered…jealousy maybe?

Of course you knew there was that chance that he would go and now be able to see other people all he wanted but part of you felt a bit upset about the fact. You thought back to those nights when the two of you first started seeing each other and the way you both were frantic while you ripped the clothes off each other before you could even make it into the house. 

Those weren’t the only memories. You missed the softness and sweetness of him too where soft touches lingered and just the smallest brush of his finger would leave you melting into him. It was the way the two of you were able to communicate how much you meant to each other without having to pull and find the words. The passion that was once shared between the two of you now was torn down rubble left behind.

Sam stands before you letting out a sigh as he slowly nods. “Yeah…I have been sleeping around a bit,” he confesses, letting out a nervous chuckle. You stand before him nodding, not knowing how to answer. 

“Not going to lie, it doesn’t help…feels like fucking shit and it’s meaningless. I think that’s why I don’t get much out of it. There’s nothing there. I don’t think I want to continue having sex with no connection. If I’m being totally honest…I just want you,” Sam confesses, locking eyes with you. 

You could feel the cracks slipping beneath you, but you desperately tried to keep them hidden. You cleared your throat and looked back at him with an unwavering stare. “No thanks, don’t think I want a man who’s been sticking their dick in other women.”

Sam’s eyes grow wide as he stares back at you. He quickly shakes his head and frowns. “I don’t Peach…don’t want to continue doing that. I don’t want to be with other women. I just want to be with y-”

“But you enjoy it right? Like fucking them?” you ask, quickly cutting him off. 

Sam shifts a bit and shrugs. “I mean…sometimes. Look I don’t really wanna-”

“How many? How many girls have you been with since we’ve broken up?” you asked, clenching your jaw. You seriously don’t know what’s leading you to ask so many bold questions, but you find yourself unable to hold back. In truth, you aren’t really sure you want to know but find the question slipping for your lips anyways. 

Sam goes silent, his face falling while contemplating on if he should really tell you. You see him hesitate but finally he speaks up in a voice that is barely audible. “Ten or so…maybe more,” he mumbles, staring down at the floor. 

A shocked look comes across your face and your eyes frantically dance around his face, while trying to rearrange the frantic thoughts that swirl in your head. “S-Sam…what the fuck.”

Sam’s expression drops and you see him look away, running his hand over the back of his neck. “Like I said, I know it’s not good. It all was meaningless…just needed something to drown in while I worked through shit I guess- look. I don’t want to be that fucking guy, just pl-”

“Did you use protection?”

Sam’s eyes meet yours again, his own look of shock on his face as a deep crease forming before his tightly knitted brows. His mouth hangs open and he shakes his head from side to side in utter disbelief. His hands hang at his side and you watch as he bunches them into tight fists before bringing them up. “Yes! Of course, I did…w-why would you ask me something like that?”

You stare back at him, holding his stare. You didn’t bother to hide the relief that not only showed on your face but also on your body. Your shoulders dropped a bit and the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding was slowly let out of your body. Then before you let your whole body relax, your stare turned cold and you spat the word, “Was it worth it?”

Sam’s eyes meet yours and you see that same flash of guilt come over his face, but it is quickly whisked away seeing his jaw clench and hands ball into fists at his side. “No,” he said, in a tone that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “It wasn’t.”

There’s a dull ache in your own jaw as you clamp down on your teeth, nearly crumbling under the weight. You narrow your eyes at him. “You sure?” you say and then for whatever reason, find your feet having a mind of their own as they take a tiny step forward. 

“You sure you don’t like it? Taking home any girl, you want?” you ask, tilting your head to the side and letting your eyes briefly drift to his lips. Sam sucks in a visible breath, following your own eyes. Sam closes his eyes for a split second and then looks away. 

“Don’t.” The tone in which he spoke should’ve made you freeze but instead, you took the words on as a challenge. 

A smirk comes onto your face, and you take another step forward, your body only inches away from his. With his face turned to the side, you found your eyes looking at the exposed part of his neck, his pulse beating wildly under his skin while he tried to put on a stern front. 

“Oh, come on Sammy,” you whisper, leaning yourself into him and letting your breath hit his neck, hoping your own little nickname would do the trick. Your eyes look down, seeing his chest still while he holds his breath. “Don’t lie…I know it was fun.” 

You lean yourself further forward, letting the tip of your nose come into contact with the skin on his neck. You hear the audible shutter of his breath and feel one of his hands, grab onto your hip. “Peach,” he grows, the grip on your hip tightening. 

A smile comes across your face, and you let your lips brush against his neck. “Anything to get your dick wet right?” And then you place a gentle kiss on his neck. A small moan escapes Sam and that was the sign you needed to continue your taunting and teasing. 

“Did you fuck them hard?” you asked, sucking at the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. Sam let out a small groan, his hand staying on your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh with such force that you were sure there would be marks later. 

“Some…” he whispered, letting his head fall back onto the door frame. You raised one of your hands, letting it rest against his chest and then gripped the fabric of his shirt and tugged him into the bathroom, quickly locking it behind you as you pressed him against the door. 

His eyes poured into your, half lidded with that sultry look you had come to know so well. You smirked up at him as he looked down at you over the bridge of his nose. You moved his hair to the side, continued to pepper his neck with kisses but this time, pressed your body against his. 

Sam groaned at the feeling and returned the action by gripping your hip and pulling you close against him. Now with the two of you pressed up against each other, there was no hiding the affect you were having on him as you felt his hardness press against your lower stomach. 

You halted your kisses and raised your head just slightly as you swiped the tip of your nose against his jaw. You placed a soft kiss against it and then moved your mouth to hover over his ear. “Did you imagine they were me?”

Sam’s body stiffened beneath you and he turned his head to look at you. You saw a dangerous flare in his eyes and you knew you had crossed a line. Before you could say anything to dull the tension, Sam lifted up a hand and held it against your throat. You let out a small gasp and with his thumb, he tilted your face so it was staring directly at him. 

“I only imagined they were you when I fucked them so hard that they couldn’t even walk, let alone talk after it was over.” Sam hissed through his teeth, his cold eyes staring back at you so intently that you shivered. Your thighs clamped together, feeling your arousal take over you. You thought maybe he didn’t see but you saw his eyes flick down to your legs for a brief second.

You went to look away from him but his hand that was wrapped around your throat, made you unable to and you were forced to stare back. You swallowed thickly and went to open your mouth to say something, but you were cut off as Sam smirked and leaned forward, hovering his mouth over your ear. “Is that what you want Peach? Want me to fuck you so hard that you can’t even speak?”

The only response you gave him was a small whimper as you nodded your head. Sam pulled away and smirked at you, releasing his grip around your neck and swiping his thumb over your cheek. “Yeah? Is that what you want?” Sam asked, lowering his head to catch your eyes that you had ripped away from him, the tops of your cheeks flared with heat, feeling a little embarrassed at how you were able to give in so easily to him. 

“Good.” Was all Sam said before his mouth found yours. The intensity of the kiss was something you couldn’t even begin to describe. Your mouths danced over each other while the two of you pawed and grabbed at each other, trying to find ways to get your bodies even closer to one another. 

Once Sam’s tongue entered your mouth, you couldn’t help but let your body collapse into him. The taste of him again on your lips was enough to drive you mad and you found that even though your distaste for him was rooted deeply, you couldn’t deny wanting him just one more time. 

The faint taste of the alcohol still lingered on his tongue. The musky scent of him combined with the way he tasted was enough to drive you completely mad. You pressed your body up against him, rutting your hips into him which made the two of you moan into each other's mouths in response. 

Sam gripped your hip tightly and then he quickly spun you, pressing your back now to the door. He removed both of his hands from your body and pressed the flats of his palms against the door, trapping your head between him. His chest rose and fell quickly, and his lips were a bright shade of red, raw from your kissing. 

The same cold eyes poured into you and you watched the muscles in his jaws strain. “You wanna fuck? …Lets fuck,” Sam said and then pressed his mouth against yours, this time with far more force. The only thing you could do was grab the fabric of his shirt and hang onto him while he devoured you. 

While the two of you let your mouths and hands roam over each other's bodies, you realized this wasn’t just any normal hook up. This was a dance. A dance of dominance but also an understanding. The two of you had found a way to communicate all the thoughts and feelings that swirled between you without actually finding a way to voice it. You knew it might not be the right way, but it was the only way you found it fit between the both of you. 

The hand that was left clinging to Sam's shirt then moved, starting on the single button that held his shirt together. Your fingers quickly worked on it, popping it open and revealing the smooth skin of his abdomen. You let your fingers rake down his skin, your nails just barely scratching against him making Sam let out a hiss through his teeth. 

Sam removed one of his hands away from the door and moved it back to your hip but this time, he balled up the end of your dress and let his hand rest against your bare skin. He continued to kiss you deeply, swiping his thumb over the band of your thong. You said a silent thank you to yourself for deciding to opt on a black thong tonight. 

Sam slowly removed his mouth away from yours and let his lips brush against the side of your cheek as he attached his mouth to your neck. You sucked in a gasp, bringing your hand up to his head and tangling your fingers through his longer locks. You let out a small his when you felt his teeth graze over the sensitive skin in your neck which made him rumble out a small chuckle against it. “Always so sensitive for me, Peach.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed back, sucking in a gasp as you felt his lip suck the skin of your neck into his mouth, making you arch your back into him. 

“Oh trust me, you’re going to,” Sam growled before he took your leg in his hand and lifted it to wrap around his middle. Sam pressed his hip into you, his erection brushing up against the bundle of nerves that were now aching to be touched. A small moan escaped you and you wiggled beneath him, trying to chase the feeling of him against you. 

Sam sucked in a hiss and brought his other hand to your hip and pushed them back against the door. “Quit doing that,” Sam spat, resting his forehead against your shoulder while he struggled to maintain his composure. 

You smirked and despite the force his hand had against your hips, you managed to wriggle yourself just enough to brush your core over him again. Sam lifted his head and glared at you bringing one of his hands to wrap against your neck again and press your head back against the door. “Is that a challenge?”

You bit your lip, trying to hide the smirk that was spreading across your face and nodded. “Fine,” Sam said, removing his other hand from your hip and letting his hand snake down between the two of you and ran a finger against your clothed clit. You cried out, clamping your eyes shut while biting your bottom lip so hard you almost punctured the skin. 

Sam started to slowly draw circles against it, making your body flare with heat that stretched from the top of your head and out through the tips of your limbs. “Yeah? You like my fingers on you?” 

All you could do was nod, your jaw now hanging freely as you stirred and moaned beneath him. Sam smirked and brought his face against your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. He pulled his hand away and you were about to let out a groan of complaint when you felt his hand dip under the elastic band of your thong and start to work over you now with nothing in between you. 

The slow circles he drew against you were daunting. He knew every inch of your body and even if you tried your best to hide you were reaching your climax, he would know. That’s how you knew he was just trying to tease you and rile you up. His fingers would press against the spot that could easily make you melt into his hand and would circle it, feeling your breath catch and just as you felt your approach start to creep up on you, he would pull his fingers back, just letting them barely dance across you. It was all part of the game…trying to see who would be the first to melt into each other first.

“Always so fucking wet for me,” Sam mumbled against you. His fingers started to pick up against you and you sucked in a sharp breath, feeling that wave start to crash over but he pulled his hand away. You clenched your jaw and let out a whine, gripping his hair by the root and tugging. 

“Knock it off,” Sam scolded and then knocked your breath away, delivering a small smack to your clit. Sam smirked at your response and then practically drained all the life out of you when he dipped one of his fingers into you but before it was pushed fully inside of you, he pulled it back. 

Sam pulled himself away from you just a bit and you watched his hand come to face and then suck the digit coated in your arousal into his mouth. His eyes fluttered and he let out a deep groan. “Always taste so sweet for me, Peach.”

Your whole body practically melted and your hand reached out for him, snaking down to rest against his erection that strained against his jeans. Sam sucked in a sharp hiss looking down and brought his hand down to rest on top of yours, pressing your hand harder against him as he rutted his hips into your palm. 

His eyes flicked back to yours and in a cold but stern voice commanded you. “Turn around.” You stood before him, feeling yourself starting to unravel at the seams. Sam had always been dominant and demanding with you, but this felt new. The deep gravel of his voice and his unwavering stare made your arousal pool and left your body shaking with anticipation. 

You did as he said, turning yourself around so you now faced the door. You felt Sam step behind you, his musky cologne wrapping around you and made your head swim. Sam grabbed both of your hands that were now dropped at your sides and lifted then, pressing them flat against the door. “Keep your hands right fucking there. Don’t you dare move them.”

You swallowed thickly and sucked in a breath. “Yes sir.”

Sam let out a growl and grabbed your hips and pushed himself against you. He pressed the tip of his nose into your hair and mumbled against this. “You want this Y/N?” he asked in a soft voice that almost made you crumble. 

“Please,” you whimpered. 

That was all Sam needed before you heard the sound of him undoing his belt, followed by the sound of his zipper sliding down. Sam reached down, lifting the bottom of your dress up and letting it bunch up just above your hips. He reached a finger into the elastic band of your thong and yanked it down and then swiped a finger through your wet core. 

A cry of pleasure left your lips but only lasted for a second as he withdrew his finger away. You felt one of his hands grab the back of your neck, pushing you forward. You turned your head to the side, letting your cheek come flush with the door and your eyes then grew wide at the sight before you. 

The mirror to the side was just in line of your view and you watched Sam pull down his pants, letting his cock spring free. Sam must’ve somehow sensed you watching him in the mirror because his eyes came up to stare back at you in it. A small smirk appeared on his lips, and you watched him look down and grip himself in his hand, slowly stroking over himself. In the reflection of the mirror, you were able to see the muscles in his stomach twitch as he let his hand lazily stroke over him. His brows bunched together, and his mouth fell open letting out a soft groan. 

Sam’s eyes then met yours again and you watched as he brought his hand to his mouth and spit it in. He rubbed his hand over the head of his cock, the muscles in his jaw clenching at the feeling. He then gripped his cock in his hand and swiped his tip through your dripping core. 

Your back arched at the feeling and you felt Sam’s hand tighten on your hip. Sam gave a couple more teasing swipes against you before lining himself up. The wind was instantly knocked from your chest as Sam pushed himself in with one hard thrust, filling you up to the hilt and delivering the familiar sting as you stretched around him. 

A low groan escaped you and you clamped your eyes closed while one of your hands that was pressed against the door bawled into a tight fist. You hear Sam let out a groan, stilling inside of you while you both got used to the feeling of being with each other again. 

The feeling of him was truly like no other. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the way he fucked you, knowing your body like the back his hand. You gladly accepted the familiar sting that he made you feel as your walls stretched and wrapped around him. “Fuck Sam,” you moaned. 

Sam withdrew himself almost all the way before he plunged back into you, delivering another hard thrust into you. The tip of him brushed against the hidden spot within you that could make you become undone before him. Sam’s hand gripped into your hair, holding you flush against the door as he started to build a slow but powerful rhythm, thrusting into you deeply and letting the tip of his cock brush against your cervix. 

The sound of Sam groaning behind you as he drove into you made your walls start to flutter around him. Sam let out a hiss at the feeling and you watched in the mirror as he fucked into you. His attention was cast downward, watching his cock coated in his arousal as he fucked into you. 

Sam’s rhythm started to pick up and all you could do was lean against the door for support, feeling your body start to grow limp from the amount of pleasure that swirled inside of you. Sam delivered a powerful thrust that made you claw your nails against the door. Sam picked his head up, removed his hand from the back of your neck and then wrapped his hand against yours, holding it to the door. 

“You like that, Peach? Like when I fuck you hard like that?” Sam asked, pulling himself almost all the way out and plunging back inside of you, gripping tightly against your hip. With all the strength you could muster, you lazily nodded your head. 

“Already got you speechless Peach. I just started baby,” Sam mumbled into your hair. Sam then started to fuck into you so hard that you were left seeing stars. This tip of his cock was brushing against your cervix so hard that you could feel the muscles inside of you start to ache. 

With the force Sam was driving into you, you now were quickly approaching your release. You felt yourself start to squeeze around him and your legs started to buckle but you willed yourself to stand up straight. A high-pitched moan escaped you and you felt Sam nudge the side of your neck with the tip of his nose. “I know baby, I know you’re close. Can feel that pretty pussy squeezing me.”

Sam removed his hand from your hip and snaked it around you, letting his fingers dip between your legs. The tip of his finger started to circle around your clit, this time with purpose as he drove you over the edge. 

Your whole body shook and a low deep groan escaped you as your release overtook you. Stars danced behind your lids as you felt your body drift to that far off place of nothing but pure bliss. From behind you, you heard Sam let out a deep shaky groan and felt himself spill into you, folding himself over and pressing his head to the top of your shoulder. 

The two of you were left a panting mess as you tried to collect yourself. You then mustered up the lingering strength you had and slid your hand from beneath his and went to push yourself off the wall but were stopped as Sam grabbed you by the back of head and pressed you back against the door. “Uh-uh, I’m not done with you just yet. Turn around. Face me.”

Sam slid out of you, making you let out a whimper at the sudden emptiness. You could feel the dull ache between your legs that you knew would leave you sore in the morning. 

You turned around to face him, seeing the end of his long hair plastered against the damn skin of his neck and face. His chest was still heaving as he fought to regain his composure. 

His deep amber eyes looked back into yours and you felt yourself suck in a breath. He then moved himself towards you, his eyes looking down to your lips before he placed a gentle kiss on them. All the words he had wanted to say were now left on your lips. 

Sam’s hand then moved to your hips and in one swift motion he picked you up, pinning you against the door. You instantly wrapped your legs around him, your hands coming to the back of his neck as you wove your fingers through his hair, tugging him closer. 

“Wanna fuck my cum into you,” Sam mumbled against your lips, sliding one of his hands behind your back while his other hand snuck between the two of you, gripping his cock in his hand. This time as he pressed himself into you, your walls gladly invited him back, slick with both of your arousals that dripped out of you. 

Sam slowly pressed into you, making him moan against your lips which you swallowed. With this different angle, you were able to feel him even deeper than before. You gripped your hands into him, expecting him to deliver the same harsh thrust but were relieved when he started to slowly thrust into you. 

Sam knew you were sore and already at your limit and this time he wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to silently remind of the times before he fucked everything up. Wanted to remind you of all the passion that he would give you- the passion he still had and felt for you. Wanted to remind you just how sorry he truly was and remind you all the love he still had for you. This time there was no dance, no game, no fight for dominance. Just the silent understanding that this was the closure the two of you needed. 

He continued to softly fuck into you, rolling his hips upwards and brushing against your g-spot. His free hand came to hold the side of your face as he gently slid his tongue into your mouth. You gladly accepted it letting out a small moan as the two of you ran your tongues over each other. The two of you were panting and sweat coated both of you. You were sure your hair was a wild mess but you didn’t care. This was all you wanted. 

Sam pulled away and looked at you, this time his expression soft and knowing. His eyes cast down as he watched himself slide into you, his cum dripping out of you and onto his cock. He returned his stare up to you and you watched a wave of uncertainty paint across his face. You removed one of your hands from the back of his neck and brought it up to his face, swiping your thumb over his cheek. He turned his head to the side and placed a gentle kiss into your palm. He looked back at you and held your eyes. “Baby, I- I’m sor-”

“I know,” you said, swiping that same finger across his cheek again. You then leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Sam groaned against you and you felt his breath start to shudder, signaling you that he was close to his second release. Your walls squeezed around him and he stilled his movements all together. “Don’t…I want you to come. Wouldn’t be fair,” Sam spoke softly, shaking his head and unable to now place his eyes on yours. 

You were now the one to grip his face and tilt it up to you. You could have sworn his eyes looked glossy as his eyes met yours but as you went to inspect further, it was gone. “Just want to make you feel good,” he said, removing his hand from your face and letting it come between the two of you. He started to slowly circle your clit with his finger and then started to slowly thrust into you again. You bit your lip letting out a cry of pleasure.

You went to look down to watch his hand and cock work on you but were stopped feeling Sam’s nose brush against your jaw. “Look at me,” he whispered in a voice that was so soft, it made you crumble. You shifted your eyes back to his and all the memories you had of him swirled in your mind. All the good times the two of you had shared, all the passion that once was shared, all the love that had once lingered- still there but this time was a flickering flame compared to the roaring fire that it once was. 

The two of you held each other’s gaze, this time biting your lip for a completely other reason as you felt it start to tremble. Sam frowned and he shook his head. “Don’t cry baby, it’s ok. Just focus on the way my hand feels, okay?”

You nodded your head and sucked in a deep breath trying to clear your thoughts and focus on the feeling he sparked between your legs. He was taking his time with you, trying to coax a second climax from you slowly knowing there was no need to rush this time. 

Sam’s fingers picked up just a bit while still continuing his steady slow pace and it was just enough as you felt your legs start to shake around him. Your brows knitted together, and your jaw hung loosely as you sucked in a sharp breath. 

“There you go baby, give it to me,” Sam said, moving his head to yours and pressing his mouth against yours. You moaned into your mouth and felt your whole body shake as you let yourself go against him. This time, it wasn’t just stars that danced behind your lids but instead, a whole galaxy that swirled before you. Everything moved slowly together, the colors being clearer as they swirled and weaved within one another.

Sam’s second release followed you as he let out a groan and pressed his forehead against yours. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close for what the two of you knew and recognized as the last time. You let a small tear slip out of your eye as you held him, letting all the emotions, good and bad spill out of you. You let yourself acknowledge them and then let them go. They were no longer yours to hold onto you. 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed wrapped in each other's arms but it was the place the two of you found comfort. Sam then pulled his head away and looked at you, lifting his hand and wiping away the lone tear that ran down your cheek. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and withdrew himself from you, slowly setting you back down. 

Your legs were a bit wobbly, but you were able to stand. You reached down and pulled your panties back up and smoothed down your dress while Sam started to re-buckle his pants. Sam cleared his throat and ran his hand through his long locks. You moved away from the door and did the same, smoothing your hair, trying to make yourself look presentable. 

Sam then walked to the door, unlocked it and turned around to face you. “Bye Peach,” was all he said as he pressed a kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“Bye Sammy,” you said. You watched him open the door and walk down the glowing hallway back to the bar and that was the last sight you had of him…

Tag list:

@iliana-gvf @thunderstomp-and-tequila @bathingin-thelight @darianh07 @gretas-sweat @withlovegvf @dannyshair-blog-blog @gretasfallingsky @ohfodthefeeling-gvf @stardustcatcher @mysticalstarcatcher

#greta van fleet #gretavanfleet #sam kiszka #sammy kiszka smut #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfiction #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf smut #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #jake gvf

[abeautylives]

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 1

author’s note: I’m really excited to have something to share with you guys. It’s written from a diff POV than I usually do, but my main character girly pop has a lot of personality 😘 Big big big thank you to bff @samkiszkasfacialhair for all the help, the ideas, and the motivation 🤍

pairing: female!OCxkiszkas (just read it, you’ll figure it out)

time frame: 2010-2014

word count: 5.7k this part

warnings: language, illicit substance use, rampant teenage emotions and delulu, kissing, josh 🥺

I don’t actually remember the day I met Sam Kiszka.

Not the date, or even the day of the week. I do know what year it was, because it was the year my mom moved us to this quaint (read: weird) little town. Charming, but weird. And boring.

Boring, until I met Sam.

Eleven-year-old Sam was a menace, but twelve-year-old me was bored. So obviously, we became the best of friends. He taught me how to light a firecracker, I had an endless supply of Barbies to blow up. He showed me how to slip out of my bedroom window without making a sound, I told him how to impress girls without grossing them out. In our early teenage years, he introduced me to drugs and I taught him how to unclasp a bra. Chill out, it was weed, and I wasn’t even wearing the bra.

My mom just loved that I’d made such a great friend.

The first time I was allowed to play at his house I met his sister, who was closer to my age, but it was too late. Sam and I were already attached at the hip, though mine sat an inch or two higher than his for a couple of years, until a growth spurt and puberty eventually left him with the height advantage.

That was when he stopped calling me by my name, and started calling me Tiny. Like I said, a menace.

“You’re the coolest girl I know, even if you’re vertically challenged.”

Please note: the first time he said this to me, he had finally just surpassed me in height by half an inch.

Then of course, there were the twins. You’d think the eldest siblings would not have become a big part of my life, but they were just always around, and actually liked hanging out with their baby brother. Close knit family and all that. It’s weird, right? At the wise and worldly age of twelve, the two fourteen-year-olds terrified me. Josh and Jake were both scary in their own way to a pubescent girl on the cusp of teenager-dom. Jake was pretty quiet, but his ego was not. He was hot, okay? In like, a Justin Bieber-y way but also kind of a jock-y way, but a jock with a guitar. Whatever, I’m only human.

Josh was… well, Josh was Josh. Unlike anyone else I’d ever met, and not necessarily in a good way. He was loud, like, all the time. He never seemed to stop talking and ended most of his sentences at an eardrum-piercing decibel level. Fortunately, or not, he didn’t get hot until I was old enough to obsess over it.

I’m sure I didn’t speak a coherent word to either of them the entire first year of my friendship with Sam.

I have a million memories of the time I spent with Sam and his family, but I have no recollection of the day I fell in love with Josh Kiszka.

But once I did, it was a deep, obsessive kind of love that only a teenager can achieve. One day he was my best friend’s eccentric older brother and the next…

Well, the next he was a rockstar.

I mentioned the whole jock with a guitar thing that Jake had going on, and that really hadn’t changed, but somewhere along the way Josh had transformed from a loud, annoying theater kid to a genuine, full blown vocalist. I mean, for a while he was both.

When they first started playing together, I only gave a shit because they’d roped Sam into it too and it took up way too much of his time. I’d watch them play, and they weren’t… bad? They weren’t good either. My time could have been better spent watching R rated movies (scandalous) or, I don’t know, doing my homework. But nope! We were in a band now.

They practiced, a lot. It felt like all they did was practice, for at least a couple years. And I just watched dutifully, every weekend of every month of every year. They did get better.

But here’s the thing. I was there for all of it. I was there the day Jake ran into the living room and snatched Sam up by the back of his shirt. Come on Sammy boy, we need you on bass. I was there the day their buddy Kyle sat down at the drum kit and completed the ensemble. (I was also there the day he got replaced.) And of course, I was there the day Josh pushed his voice past the instruments and the amps, and went from a weak imitation of a rock singer to something else all together. Something totally and completely him.

That’s not the day I fell in love with him (I would’ve remembered), but it was the first time he had ever… impressed me. And not that I cared, but Jake was impressed too. I saw it on his face.

It was cute. In like, a sweet, brotherly way.

Okay, anyway! The combination of Jake’s skill and Josh’s raw talent got them noticed. (Sammy’s talent would develop over time, I didn’t forget about him. Sam, you’re the most talented one in the band.) And then they were playing actual gigs. I wasn’t allowed to go to most of those early ones, because for some reason these dive bars were permitting these pint sized, teenage Zeppelin wannabes to perform at them. Old people like our parents loved that shit. The locals went crazy for it.

They played Fischer Hall a couple times, right there in town, but around their third or fourth gig there, Josh had unbuttoned the flowy, floral, women’s blouse he was wearing and took to the stage with it hanging open, beaded necklaces draped down his bare chest and curly hair wild.

Why was he sort of… ripped? How had I never noticed? Were his pants always so tight? And low cut? I was sweating. I didn’t even know he was literally cosplaying Robert Plant.

Did I fall in love with him that night? Of course not, I already told you I don’t remember the day that happened.

The Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I left my house around 8:30 to head to Sam’s. To my mom, this was an average Saturday night - I spent nearly all of them at Sam’s house, where his parents were always home. Ya know, or so mine thought. Whether the Kiszkas were actually home or not, we hung out in the garage.

That’s not as weird as it sounds, it was a really cool garage. With furniture and everything. And their instruments, a lot of them. I don’t know how every one of these guys knew how to play every instrument packed into that room, but they did. And by the time I was sixteen, they were really almost good at it.

(Jake was good. Very good… I told you he was hot.)

This particular Saturday though, this was going to be the Saturday that changed my life. And I wanted to dress the part.

In hindsight, I wore something I’d probably worn a hundred times. Then why had it taken me so long to get ready? I changed my jeans twice, my shirt at least ten times, added a sweater, threw it back on my bed, added a flannel, tossed that to the floor. Picked it back up and shoved my arms in, made sure it hung off my shoulder just so. Shoulders are sexy, right? Do guys like shoulders? Oh shit, what do guys even like?

Anyway, I left the house looking exactly as I always did.

I rode my bike slowly that night, already hyper aware of the sweat under my arms.

So I slowed my pedaling even further. When the house came into view, I hopped off the bike and walked it up the drive before tossing it to the grass outside the garage.

Okay, knock twice and just go in.

That’s what everyone always did, what I always did. Just knock twice then lift the door. Everyone was always welcome, come on in!

So go in, idiot.

Look, I did it eventually. Just like always, knock knock, lift the door enough to slip underneath, let it close behind me. Except when it rolled back to the ground, I lost my nerve and stood frozen there for a few seconds too long.

Sam called me out, because he’s a menace.

“The hell are you doing, Tiny? We started without you.”

I moved farther into the space, eyes bouncing between my options through the soft haze of pungent smoke that already hung over the room. There was my usual spot - on the floor, next to the spot where Sam sat cross-legged, his long frame folded and bent, his sharp elbows resting on his knees as he waited for the joint to make its way back to him.

Not tonight, I’m on a mission.

Jake sat to his left, in a well-worn, floral print wingback chair. It was comfortable enough for one person, decades of weight softening the strength of the cushion’s springs before it ever came to live in this particular garage. Jake’s body was slung over it, legs thrown haphazardly over an arm while his own were wrapped around an acoustic guitar. Typical. He tipped his chin at me from under the brim of a bucket hat, then nodded towards the floor beside him. Holy shit, does he want me to sit by him?! I think my fingers lifted in a barely-there wave but I’m not really sure they were functioning correctly.

Okay focus, he did not. Does not. Not in this lifetime.

Still without his next hit, Sam glanced up at me over his shoulder and patted the threadbare throw rug next to him. “Sit down weirdo, you’re making me paranoid.”

Nerves that I’d never, never, felt before in this room fluttered through my stomach, I let my gaze meet Sam’s before continuing the search for a place to plant myself.

There was really only one option left - the couch - and both ends were already occupied. Our friend Danny (Kyle’s replacement, sorry Kyle) was in the process of melting into the corner closest to Jake, his eyes glassy and already tinged pink when he looked up at me. Only his eyebrows lifted in greeting before he mirrored Sam’s offer to sit next to him, tapping the cushion beside him.

This is fine, totally normal! Danny was Sam’s other half. Well, his other male half. I guess we were in thirds. A trio.

I accepted the offering, stepping around the coffee table, scarred with years worth of “art” - drawings and carvings, a few discreet dirty words etched into the surface in between - to drop to the middle of the couch. One of Sam’s brows tipped up when I met his eyes again, his expression asking, “Dude, what gives?”

“Hey, you’re here!” He noticed me, finally. Silvery smoke crept from between his lips as he grinned, and I watched transfixed when they pursed together and he blew a cloud toward the ceiling. My stare was broken when he leaned across the table and passed the joint to an impatient Sam, but to the delight of the butterflies going nuts in the pit of my stomach, he leaned back into the cushions and threw an arm over the back of the couch behind me. EEEEP!

“Hey-“ It was a humiliating and unsexy croak, and I quickly cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, Josh. Hi.”

His long hair was pulled back, his entire face available for my viewing pleasure. Things were going perfectly.

I joined the rotation, the weed easing the flutters caused by sitting so close to Josh, but amplifying the feeling that the other three were watching and wondering why I was acting so strange.

They were not. They were high.

Aside from the stray curious eyebrow from my BFF across the table, they actually acted like nothing was abnormal about my seating choice, even when I started to scooch imperceptibly to my left every time I adjusted the way I was sitting.

Pulled my legs up under me? Scooch.

Dropped them down so my sneakers met the cement? Scooch.

Crossed my left ankle over my right knee? Scooch.

It was totally subtle.

“I’m gonna grab a pop, you guys want anything?” Sam startled me out of a pleasant reverie as he jumped up from the floor, but my freaking knee was touching Josh’s knee! No I don’t want anything, I have everything I need right here!

It turned out Sam was a huge knee blocker. He gripped me by an elbow and peeled me from the couch as the others murmured at our retreating backs about needing Doritos. He pushed me out the side door and towards the house and had me in the kitchen before I could even tell him he was ruining everything!

Even through bleary, hooded eyes, his death glare was brutal.

“Saaammmmm, what are you doing?!” “What the hell do you think you’re doing, T?”

More glaring. He broke the glare-off first, jerking his head to the side to flick his hair out of his eyes and turning to open the refrigerator, but once his face was inside it, he called me out again.

“Why are you being so weird with Josh?”

I love him, I need him!

“Whaaa.. I don’t know what you mean. You’re just super high.” Yeah, I really thought that would work. Sue me!

Straightening to his full height (seriously, like two inches taller than me… maybe three), he spun to face me again. He actually looked down his nose at me.

“Do you like, like him? What the fuck, Tiny?” He whispered that last part, as if his parents were lurking around the corner waiting to bust him for cussing.

“Look, you wouldn’t understand Sam. I’m much older than y-“

“You’re not even an entire year older than me.”

“Eleven months is basically an entire ye-“

“That’s not the point!” That part was like whisper yelling. I swear it looked like he was yelling, but it sounded like he was whispering.

“Okay!” Yeah, I whisper yelled back. “Sammy, I like him… I’m sorry! I don’t even know when it happened but I woke up one day and I realized that he’s perfect! He’s funny and nice and he’s so… so… cute! Okay? He’s so cute I wanna die and I love him!”

Sam’s eyes were wide, as wide as they could be under the circumstances, and he stared at me like I’d grown another head. With a horn coming out of it.

“You love him. You realize how dumb you sound right now?”

Dumb? No no, this was serious. I pleaded with my best friend for forgiveness. And his help. “Sam… please. Don’t be mad at me, I- I don’t know, I can’t help it! That’s just how I feel, and I want him to like me back!” That’s when it hit me, I needed a wingman for this plan.

“Can you help me get him to like me back?” I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip stuck out and everything. As if that had ever worked in the four years we’d known each other so far.

“Fuck no.” His eyes moved side to side, looking for sneaky parents again I guessed. “Definitely not. Why do you have to like my brother, dude? That’s sick, it’s like incest or something!” He stomped his feet a little, and I couldn't help but think it made him look like a child. He was a child! This was serious, grown-up shit and I didn’t have time to play games.

“Ugh, if you’re not gonna help me then at least get out of my way.” I pushed past him and headed back out of the house and into the garage. Not much had changed when I got there, but Danny must have left while Sam and I were gone. The entire couch was empty aside from Josh, still sitting cross-legged in one corner. Damn it!

I flopped into the spot that Danny had vacated, just as Sam hustled back in through the side door, arms full of sodas and bags of chips. My cheeks were warm when I looked up at him, and then they burst into flames.

“Scoot over T, I like the corner spot.”

He’s helping me! Oh shit, he’s helping me. Move your ass!!

Fumbling for a grip on reality, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Sam’s. He lifted his brows and tilted his head in Josh’s direction. I suddenly remembered why I wasted all my days with this kid - he’s my ride or die. And now I owed him, big.

As soon as I stood to shift to the center of the couch, Sam’s elbow snuck out and made contact with my shoulder. My feet tangled with each other and, balance lost, I tumbled. Right into the arms of my beloved.

Okay okay, that’s a reach. But I did land on him. Sam had nudged me just hard enough to send me toward the opposite end of the couch and I landed ass-first on Josh’s leg, still folded and crossed under the other.

Through the mortification, I heard Sam’s distinct snickering as he placed himself gently on the other cushion. Then, through the popping of soda tabs and crinkling of chip bags, I heard the sweetest, most beautiful sound ever.

“If you wanted to sit next to me so bad, you could’ve just done it, T.”

I quite literally had to extract myself from his lap, but Josh just giggled as I clumsily moved off of him. To my extreme delight and disbelief, I didn’t make it too far. He slung an arm over my shoulders and kept me at his side. We are sharing a cushion. ALERT ALERT - OUR THIGHS ARE TOUCHING.

His hand wrapped around the ball of my shoulder and squeezed. Not once, but twice. I felt like I was gonna puke, but I risked turning my head and meeting his eyes. And he. Fucking. Smiled.

“You good, Tiny?” I should’ve laughed. We were the same exact height, I could be calling him tiny. But this wasn’t funny, because he was still smiling at me and he’d lowered his voice to speak directly to me and I felt it all the way to my toes. Somehow I managed to smile back.

“I’m good.” I was soooooo good. Even when Sam shoved a bag of Doritos at me, I was good. Because Josh reached into it and pulled a few out for himself. He reached into my lap! For chips!

Risking a sideways glance at Sam, I found him eyeballing Josh’s hand that was still resting lightly over my shoulder. I gave him my best “holy shit holy shit holy shit” expression, to which he rolled his eyes and shrugged. Before turning my attention back to the love of my life, my gaze drifted past Sam and landed on Jake. Oh, he was still here? Hadn’t noticed.

Except I was noticing. And he didn’t look pleased. He locked in and held eye contact, absolutely scowling. He was pissed. At me?! I must not have hidden my surprise well, because after a few more tense seconds of the longest eye contact we’d ever held, he blinked away and flung the guitar he’d been cradling all night over the arm of the chair.

Look, he didn’t throw it or anything. The stand was right there and the guitar landed safely, if not a little roughly, in its place. But then he tossed the open bag of Lay’s to the table, swung his legs around and stood. He caught my eye again, his hair doing that flippy thing over his eyebrows as he shook his head.

“Whatever. Night, guys.”

Just like that, he was gone. Two down, one to go. GTFO Sam!!

The next hour or so passed in a blur. Sam kept hitting the joint long after Josh and I had turned it down, and by the time he’d deposited the roach in the ashtray he could barely keep his eyes open. I watched his head fall back into the cushion and pounced on my opportunity.

Leaning away from Josh’s loving embrace (shut up, I was in heaven okay?), I slapped Sam’s chest with the back of my hand.

“Sammy… Sam!” He snorted as his head whipped up, swiped a hand over his mouth and looked at me. I was still leaning toward him, my back to Josh, and I spoke to him telepathically. Or with my eyebrows.

Get out of here right now or so help me God.

He answered verbally, like he couldn't even read my mind. “Huh?”

I withheld growling at him like an animal. “Why don’t you go to bed, man? You’re toast.” Go. NOW.

His eyes tried to focus on me, they really did, before he shook his head and tried again. “Shit. Yeah, okay. Are you… do you wanna stay on the couch tonight?”

Yes. This couch. Allll night long.

“Yeah yeah, I will, but I’m not tired yet. I’m just gonna, um, chill here for a little bit longer?” At that, I turned my head and risked a glance at Josh. Thank God I did, because he was already looking at me, and he grinned. EEEEEEEP!

“I’m not tired yet either, we can listen to some music.” I doubted I could hear music at that point, not over the blood rushing in my ears. But then, oh then, he looked up at Sam and said, “I’ll make sure she makes it to bed, I mean, the couch. Downstairs, I’ll make sure she makes it downstairs.”

“Fine, whatever.” See? He’s my ride or die. “See you in the morning, T.” And then he was gone.

We were alone.

HELLO? WE. WERE. ALONE.

Sure, I’d been alone with Josh before. I’d been hanging around his house nearly every day for four years, we’d definitely been left in a room together at some point. But not while his arm was draped loosely over my shoulders, not while our legs were touching, not while my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

But now that we were alone, I had no effing clue what to do. Then Josh stood up. My heart dropped into my stomach, but he walked over to the stacked milk crates that housed a small part of their family’s record collection and crouched to skim through them. He found something he liked and set it on the turntable, the needle bringing the crackling beginnings of a song to life.

When he turned back to face me, I thought for sure he’d sit in that ugly wingback chair. Or at the other end of the couch. Instead, he circled the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of me than he had been all night. And now his other thigh was touching mine!

I’m pretty sure my throat closed up because I had to clear it rather unattractively to speak. “What, uhh, ha, um, who is this?”

Sexy, right?

Didn’t matter, his smile took shape right in front of my eyes and all I could see was the little barely-there gap between his front teeth. I wanted to know what it felt like on my tongue. Would I be able to tell? If I kissed him right now, would I be able to feel that little discrepancy in the perfection of his teeth? I lifted my eyes to meet his and realized he’d spoken, and I’d missed it.

“Sorry, uhh… what?”

His head tilted and his eyes searched my face for… something. “Wilson Pickett. Sammy hasn’t played this for you?”

Sammy? Who is Sammy? Ohhh right, best friend.

“Um, no, I don’t think so. But maybe? There’s always music on, he’s probably played this.”

He just nodded, at first in response to my rambling and then in time with the song. When it ended, he just… looked at me, for what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds. I was once again hyper aware of my underarms. Sweating. So I slipped the flannel off of my shoulders, keeping my forearms in the sleeves but giving me some airflow to the pits. Josh’s eyes dropped from mine and landed on the now exposed skin. Yes! Guys like shoulders!

The realization slapped me in the face, so I grabbed it and ran. I slid my arms out of the sleeves and tossed the flannel past Josh and onto the chair, thanking God that I’d worn a tank top. He gulped. Like a full-blown gulp.

Omg I’m making him nervous!!

Confidence boosted, I shifted even closer to him, until our bodies were tucked tight against each other. I’d never been this close to him, aside from that one time we’d been crammed in the back seat of his mom’s car with Sam and Jake, their sister sitting pretty in the front seat. But then I had been a scrawny kid, only thirteen (and a half) and he had been a really weird fifteen year old, not yet having grown into his features. I hadn’t wanted any part of his stinky, sweaty, farty body near me and I’d squeezed myself so close to Sam I was practically in his lap.

But on this night? This Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I was no longer a kid. And he was no longer weird. He was beautiful, and my face was really close to his face. I could feel it when he whispered, his breath actually touched my lips.

“Wha- what are you doing, T?”

He was looking at my lips, waiting for my answer. I licked them because I was freaking parched, but he watched. And I watched him gulp, again! My tongue slipped out and wet my bottom lip a second time.

“Josh?” Whispering is sexy, it’s seductive. I was sure of it. He did it back, just my name - my actual name - lilting at the end in question.

“Do you.. wanna… kiss me?” I leaned over him, placed my left hand on his chest and felt his collar bone under my fingertips through his t-shirt. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I saw the panic widen his eyes, then they darted around me, looking at anything but me. It was really so cute how nervous he was. He was eighteen, for Christ sake! And I was making him nervous!

“Kiss me, Josh.” His eyes snapped back to mine, slipped down to my mouth again and then back.

And then. He. Freaking. KISSED. ME.

In a split second that felt like hours, I watched his eyes close and perfect lips pucker. My eyes stayed open at first, I didn’t want to miss this.

Leaning further into him, I settled my lips against his and slid the hand on his chest up the side of his neck (his pulse was out of control, by the way), and then cradled his jaw. My fingertips were in his hair right behind his ear. I pulled his face closer and ramped up the pressure of our lips pushed together.

He put his hands on me. I swear to God, he really did! One reached for my hip and the other came up to rest against my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed and my body took over. Not a coherent thought left in my pretty little head. Especially when our mouths separated, and then he pushed them back together.

With a mind of its own, my other hand came up and gripped his shoulder. Then my leg swung over his lap and I. Was. Straddling. Him.

It wasn’t my fault. My brain had gone haywire, my body moving on instinct. I’d quite literally never done this before. I’d kissed plenty, I even kissed Sam once (barf), but this felt different. This felt mature. Probably a little more mature than I was ready for but like I said, it was not my fault.

A lot of blame fell on Josh, a whole mountain of it, when the hand on my cheek dropped to my other hip and gripped hard, pulled me flush against him. And his lips coerced my mouth open. And the tip of his tongue swept out and touched mine.

Oh, I was in way over my head. But this was Josh, the boy I loved, and he was loving me back!

A sound I’d never made before crept up my throat. Instant embarrassment heated my already toasty cheeks and climbed up my neck, but then. Ohh then. The same freaking sound came from somewhere below me. Josh groaned. Because of me.

My animal brain completely took over. My tongue was already sliding against his, and my hips decided to follow suit. With zero finesse, they rocked into his. Just once.

He broke the kiss and dropped his head back to the cushion.

No no noooooo, you like this! You love it!

I could feel the proof that he loved it. I was sitting on it. I could see it, his chest heaving.

So I leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his throat.

“Stop, T.” His hands fell limp and landed on my thighs. My brain scrambled to catch up. Stop? Go! His fingers spread across the denim on my legs. Go go go!

But then he pushed. I leaned back to see his face, find an explanation, but his eyes were still closed as he pushed me off of his lap. Helped me swing my leg back over. Kept his hands on my thighs until they were planted back on the couch and closed. Firmly. Then they left me, and I felt their absence like a knife to the heart.

“I… wow, okay.” It’s the best I could manage to formulate, but my brain was running in overdrive.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let that happen.” He rubbed his palms, the ones that were just holding me, over his knees then leaned forward and dropped his forehead into them.

Okay, maybe he just thinks we were moving too fast!

“Josh, it’s okay. I want this! We can just kiss, I’ll stay over here and you stay there and-“

It was so quiet, but it stopped my words on my tongue and slammed my lips shut.

“I can’t.”

Okay. Okay. Okay.

It’s because Sam’s my best friend.

It’s because I’m too young.

He thinks I’m still a kid.

Like his kid sister.

Fuck!

Anger rolled through me. “Why? Is it Sam?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned to me. Looked at me, finally.

“No, I-“

“Am I too young for you? You’re not that much older, Josh and we’ve known eachother forever, it’s not that big of a de-“

“It’s not that, Tiny.” His eyes closed again.

“Don’t call me that!” He’d offended me, I was o-ffen-ded. “I’m not a little fucking kid!” Okay, I was pissed! I was a grown ass woman!

(I wasn’t.)

Both of his hands reached forward and he pulled mine towards him. Held them there. Opened his eyes. Was he gonna cry? Why are his eyes wet?! Shit, am I crying?

“It’s not you, T. It’s me.” Oh please. “I- well, I um, I like someone else.”

Back to angry! “What?! Then why the hell were you kissing me?!” What a scoundrel, what a snake, what an asshole!

“It’s not like that-“

“What the fuck is it like?!” I didn’t normally curse much at that age, but when I tell you I was mad? Hurt? Embarrassed? I couldn’t stop it from happening.

Shit, his eyes were definitely wet.

“It’s a guy.”

He whispered it, and it wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t seductive. It was sad. Scared. Defeated. I snatched my hands out of his.

There was a long silence. Uncomfortable. He stared at his empty hands and we processed.

“What did you say?” His posture shrank, like he was trying to disappear. “Josh, it’s okay. Talk to me.” It was my turn to take his hands. I held them in mine and squeezed once.

“I’m so sorry, I- I just don’t like you. Like that.” His eyes found their way back to my face, “I really like him.” They went wide and I’m pretty sure mine did too. He seemed shocked that he’d said it out loud, right before panic spread across his features again.

“Please don’t say anything, T. I haven’t- no one knows that. No one. Please.”

“No, I would never Josh, I swear. I just… why were you, ya know, kissing me?” Touching me, pulling me in. He pulled his hands away from me this time.

“I just wanted to feel normal. I wanted them to think I was normal.”

I couldn’t help it. I threw my arms around him and held on tight.

“You are.” Normal and beautiful and perfect. And not mine. A heavy sigh slipped from between my lips. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He stayed silent, so I did too. I kept my arms around him for a few minutes before finally letting them slip free, rubbing a palm between his shoulder blades.

“I guess I should go… Are you okay?” Look, I was not okay, but it didn’t seem like that was important anymore.

“Aren’t you gonna stay downstairs tonight?”

Definitely not. “No, I think I should go home…” Probably won’t show my face over here for a goooood long time.

“Let me walk with you.”

I did. He walked on the other side of my bike while I walked it by the handlebars. When we reached my driveway, I left the bike propped against the side of the garage and turned to him. And just like in my dreams, he moved close and pecked a kiss into my cheek. Then he pulled me into his arms.

“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, ya know?” His voice was soft and low, his breath tickling my ear. It should’ve been a literal dream come true.

A half step back and I rubbed my hands up and down his arms. “It’s really fine. I’m sorry for…” Humiliating us both? “Everything.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I mean it,” he emphasized when I shook my head. “Just… please don’t say anything. Even to Sam. Especially to Sam. I’m gonna tell them all when I’m ready, I think.”

Huge, massive sigh. “I won’t. I promise.”

And I never did. Not really.

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam gvf #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fan fiction #jake gvf #jake kiszka fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka fic #josh gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction

[hearts-hunger]

i'll be your medicine || sam kiszka x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: They say laughter is the best medicine, but you're pretty sure that's only because they haven't met Sam. | Standalone in the Sunshine Daydream universe

Pairings: Sam x Reader | Genre: fluff, sickfic (migraine), hurt/comfort | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: none! | Title song: “Deep End” by Holly Humberstone

A/N: My very first standalone fic for Sam and Birdie! This fic is a special gift to all the Sunshine Daydream besties. I hope you like it! ♡

“Yeah, man, I don’t know. I think if we add any more freakin’ reverb we might as well trash it.”

You winced a little as you listened to Sam talking on the phone, feeling from the tone of his voice that he must not be in a great mood. You couldn’t exactly tell — he’d been talking to Jake as he came in the door, and they had been talking steadily as Sam started up the handful of household chores he liked to knock out before he settled in for the evening. He was unloading the dishwasher right now, and he seemed to be very impassioned about whatever song they were talking about.

“That’s not going to fix the problem, though,” he said firmly. “The whole tone of the song is riding on that.”

You still couldn’t tell if he was arguing with Jake or just having an overzealous discussion. You didn’t like not knowing; it had always made you uneasy to not be able to read someone’s mood, and that was especially true with Sam. He knew that about you and was usually very good about being straightforward if he was upset, but he’d barely said a word to you since coming home half an hour ago.

As worrying as that was, though, you had more pressing things to worry about. The familiar ache of a budding migraine was becoming less and less easy to ignore, and you felt yourself flinch when the plates Sam put away clattered against each other.

You curled in on yourself on the couch, praying the medicine would kick in before it got too bad. The last thing you wanted was a full-blown migraine with a grouchy boyfriend, if that’s indeed what he was, and you’d rather just take care of it by yourself if you could. Unfortunately, you were beginning to think you’d taken the medicine too late to head it off at the pass. Rosie was curled up next to you, and you tried to relax against her solid warmth and manifest a beautiful migraine-free evening with the power of positive thinking.

It took about five minutes before you gave up that dream. You could feel the pain starting to spread, settling in deep where it usually hit behind your eyes and over the crown of your head. You wanted to ask Sam to get you an ice pack, but you didn’t want make him more annoyed than he already was, and you didn’t feel like you could raise your voice enough to interrupt his phone call anyway.

“Rosie, come get your dinner.”

His voice carried from the kitchen, and you guessed you’d missed him getting off the phone with Jake. You weren’t surprised; it was getting to the point where a bomb could go off and you’d be too distracted with pain to worry about it.

Still, you tried to stay tuned in to Sam; you’d missed him, and you were looking forward to spending time with him now that he was home and off the phone. He called for Rose again, but she didn’t move from her spot beside you. With effort, you sat up and tried to nudge her to go into the kitchen. 

She looked up at you and cocked her head, and you knew she wouldn’t get up unless you did. She always knew when you weren’t feeling well, and she liked to stay close and keep an eye on you when you were sick or unhappy.

You sighed. You didn’t want her to feel torn between you and Sam, but you also didn’t have the energy to try and redirect your sweet, protective, somewhat stubborn dog. 

“Come on, Rosie,” you said quietly. “Daddy’s calling you.”

You only managed to get her to hop off the couch, and she looked up at you as she sat at your feet. You thought you heard Sam again, but all of a sudden, you couldn’t think about anything but the pain you were in; you sat on the edge of the couch and rested your head against Rose, burying your face in her soft fur, trying to ride the wave of dizziness and pain without bursting into tears.

You felt Rosie’s tail thump against your foot, and you guessed that was in response to Sam coming in from the kitchen.

“Rose,” he said, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Come on, now. I know you want to be with mama, but it’s time to eat.”

She still didn’t move. You felt the tension in her even as she kept perfectly still for you, and Sam came over to see what the holdup was.

“What’s going on with my girls?” he said, hunkering down be the couch so he was at Rosie’s level. “You two just can’t be separated for even a minute, huh?”

Sam put his hand on your knee, and Rose gave a tentative kiss to the back of his hand.

“Come on, birdie,” he said to you. “You know she won’t go anywhere if she thinks you want her to stay.”

You nodded. You did want her to stay, but you didn’t want to annoy Sam.

“Sorry,” you said, lifting your head. You stroked Rose’s ear. “Go on with daddy.”

She gave the quietest bark you’d ever heard in protest.

“Rosebud, you are being downright contrary,” Sam said, giving her a playfully vigorous few pets. “You just don’t listen to anybody now, is that it?”

He looked up at you with a smile that was reassuring to see. “Has she been like this all day?”

Before you could answer, his expression clouded with alarm. 

“Are you crying?” he asked.

You touched a hand to your cheek and felt a few tears. You hadn’t even noticed them.

“Oh, uh... I guess,” you said weakly. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean, sorry?” he said, his voice tight with dismay. “Birdie, honey, what’s wong?”

“Um...” The brave face you’d tried to put on had started to crumble, and even if he was in a bad mood, you needed his help. 

“Migraine,” you said in a small voice. “It’s really bad.”

He took a sharp breath. “Okay, baby.” He kept his voice calm for you. “Have you taken any medicine?”

You nodded. “It’s not — ” Your voice caught. “Not really helping.”

“It will in a little bit,” he assured you. “We just have to give it some time to work. Let me go get you an ice pack, okay?”

He left Rosie with you and went back to the kitchen, and you heard him rummaging around for a few moments before he returned.

“Drink some water,” he said, handing you his water bottle. He turned the lights off in the living room, leaving only the light from the kitchen, and knelt in front of you again to hold the ice pack to your temple. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” you said miserably. Your head was wreathed in pain, but the ice was helping a little.

He studied your face with worry and gentleness. “I’m sorry, birdie. Did it come on all of a sudden?”

Your throat felt tight as you looked at him. “No,” you said quietly.

“No?” he repeated. His brow knit. “You didn’t say anything, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know if you were angry.” Your voice was wobbly. “I thought if I took some medicine, I wouldn’t have to bother you.”

Even in the dim light, you could plainly read the surprise on his face. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Why would I be angry?”

“I thought you were arguing with Jake,” you admitted. “That maybe you had a bad day at work, and you were still in the middle of it when you got home. And since you didn’t say anything to me when you got here, I thought...” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Oh, honey.” He touched your cheek. “I wasn’t angry. I just got caught up talking to him, but I shouldn’t have been on the phone when I came home. I’m sorry. Thank you for being so patient with me when I’m being stupid.”

That coaxed out a watery laugh, and he gave you a gentle smile.

“I’m really sorry, birdie,” he said sincerely. “You know you can interrupt anything if you need to ask me for help, right? Especially if you’re hurting.”

Your eyes welled with tears, but you didn’t know if it was from the pain or the relief of having Sam with you after missing him all day.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“No need to thank me, birdie,” he said gently. “I love you, and I want to take care of you.” He switched the ice pack to rest against the opposite temple and brushed the tears from your face. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft and worried. “Does it hurt that bad?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

He hummed. “Yeah. Just everything all together, huh?”

You nodded. “I missed you.”

“Aw, birdie.” He kissed your face when you hugged him, holding you close for a moment. “I missed you too. I’m sorry you don’t feel good.”

He ran a hand over Rosie’s head, and she wagged her tail at finally being included after sitting patiently at your side. 

“And you were just looking after mama, weren’t you, sweet girl?” he said. He gently scuffed his hand up and down her side. “You’re a good girl, Rosie.”

She rested her chin on your knee again, and Sam smiled.

“Yeah, you love your mama. I know.” He patted the couch cushion. “Come up here and lay with her.”

She did obey him that time, and you curled up with her as Sam spread a soft blanket over you.

“What can I do, birdie?” he asked, brushing your hair back from your face. 

You tried to think of what had helped last time you got a migraine this bad. You knew there wasn’t much for it but to wait until the medicine kicked in, but surely there was something you could do.

“I don’t know,” you said pitifully, knowing it wasn’t helpful.

“What about some coke?” he offered. “I think the caffeine helps, right?”

You nodded. “I don’t think we have any here, though.”

Sam had already pulled out his phone. “Good thing we live in the modern age. Do you want anything to eat?”

“I don’t think so. Well, maybe. I don’t know.” You groaned. “I hate this. I can’t even think straight.”

“So you’re thinking about Anne Hathaway? Sounds like a pretty good migraine to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

He smiled. “Yeah, but I made you laugh, and you know what they say about laughter being the best medicine.”

You tipped your face up towards him, and he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss. You felt an incredible relief to be with Sam, to have him making dumb jokes for you, to know that you could depend on him and rest completely in his care for you. The tension you’d carried since he’d come home gave way to the familiar comfort of simply being with him, and it made all the difference.

“So, a large coke... extra ice, yeah?” he asked.

“Yes please.” You hid your face behind the blanket and pressing the ice pack to your forehead. “I wish this medicine would be the best medicine. That would be great.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, a little distracted as he placed your order. “Listen, I’m just going to get you something to eat, and you can decide later if you want it. Okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

He gave a sympathetic chuckle. “My poor birdie.” He pocketed his phone. “Do you want to watch a movie to take your mind off it? Or will the sound and the light make it worse?”

“I think I just want to lay here in the dark for a while, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine, sweetheart.”

“Can you sit with me?”

“Of course.”

With a little maneuvering, all three of you found room on the couch; you lay with your head in Sam’s lap, and Rosie was curled up at your feet.

“Can I put the ice pack on the other side?” you asked, feeling a little sheepish.

“Oh, sure,” he said easily, doing it for you and putting the ice pack between your head and his lap. “You know, I was just thinking I wanted a nice ice pack to the crotch. It’s refreshing, really.”

You laughed. “Thanks. Let me know if you get a little too frosty.”

He leaned his head back and absently played with your hair, breathing a tired sigh. “This is nice, actually. We should lay in the dark more often.”

“Yeah, it is nice.” You wished you weren’t in pain, but other than that, it was nice. “So what were you not-arguing with Jake about?”

He hummed. “Well, that’s kind of a long, involved story.”

You closed your eyes and relaxed against him. “I like long, involved stories. Tell me.”

He did, and it was soothing to listen to him as he wove you a tale of brotherly bickering and artistic decision-making. By the time your food arrived, you’d managed to follow only half of the narrative twists and turns, but the sound of his voice had worked its magic.

“There’s your coke, birdie,” he said quietly, easing you up so he could get off the couch. “Be right back.”

He came back in with bags of takeout, and you found you were feeling well enough to sit up and take your drink when he offered it to you.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked.

“A little,” you said. You took a long drink. “Thanks for getting this.”

“Sure. I hope it helps.” He set the bags on the coffee table. “Are you hungry?”

You thought about it. You still felt achy and woozy, but your appetite had returned somewhat.

“Did you get any fries?” you asked.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Yep.”

The three of you got settled again, and Rosie took a few minutes from her vigil to have her dinner; you and Sam started a documentary about the making of Friday the 13th.

“I still don’t know why you like to watch this documentary when you won’t watch the movie,” Sam said. “Makes no sense, birdie.”

You laughed. “The movie’s scary!” you said. “And lakehouses are supposed to be about romance, not murder.”

He gave you a cocky smirk. “You’d know all about lakehouse romance, wouldn’t you?”

You blushed. The two of you had just celebrated your anniversary a few weeks ago; you’d gone up to stay at the same cabin where you’d fallen in love, and Sam had certainly pulled out all the stops to make it romantic in every sense of the word.

He picked up your ice pack and touched it to your cheek. “Here, birdie. Your cheeks are all red.”

You laughed and pushed it back towards him. “You’re awful.”

He kissed your cheek to soothe the icy sting. “You’re beautiful.”

You finally felt the medicine start to work as you had dinner, and Rosie came back with her chewy bone to keep her occupied as she sat next to you. Sam cleaned up when you were done, and when he came back to the couch, he asked if you wanted him to braid your hair.

“I just thought it might help,” he said. “But you look like you’re feeling better, actually.”

“I am,” you said. Between the medicine and Sam’s ministrations, you had started to feel much better. “But I would love it if you braided my hair.”

He smiled. “Say no more, my love.”

You sat on the floor between his legs, and from the first moment his fingers started to gently untangle your hair, you were in heaven. He took his time, lightly scratching your scalp, rubbing circles along your temples and behind your ears, gathering your hair just to brush his fingers through it in a soothing, repetitive motion.

“This is some braid,” you mumbled, content and starting to feel sleepy now that the pain had subsided.

He chuckled. “Does it feel good, birdie?”

You hummed in agreement. “Thank you.”

He kissed the crown of your head. “You’re welcome.”

He finally did put your hair in a simple braid, and you rested your head against his knee when he was done.

“I decided something,” you said.

“Oh yeah?” He traced his fingers over your jaw. “What’s that?”

You wrapped your arms around his leg. “I think you’re the best medicine.”

“Sweet birdie,” he said gently, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m glad I could help, honey. And I’m really glad you’re feeling better.”

He tugged lightly on your braid. “But I can tell you’re sleepy, and I don’t think you want to sleep on the floor.”

Reluctantly, you got up from your spot and joined him again on the couch. You snuggled up to him as he leaned against the arm of the couch, and he tried to pull the blanket over the two of you.

“Rosie,” he said. “You’re on mama’s blanket.”

He pulled it again, gently, just enough to tell her to move. She hopped down from the couch and then hopped right back up, tucking herself by your feet once you and Sam were settled.

“There we go,” Sam said, putting his arm around you. “Sammy and birdie and Rosie, all snuggled up.”

You toyed with his necklace as he put on another movie, knowing you’d be asleep before it was five minutes in.

“Just push me off when you want to get up,” you said. You knew he wasn’t ready for bed yet and didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay for your sake after you’d fallen asleep.

He laughed, and you loved the sound of it all rumbly and warm in his chest.

“I don’t think I’ll just push you off, birdie,” he said. “But thanks. I’ll keep that option in mind.”

You cuddled close. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said gently. He ran his hand up and down your back, easing the last of your pain until it faded completely. “I love you, birdie.”

You gave a sleepy, contented sigh as you fell asleep. “I love you too.”

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#sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam x birdie #sunshine daydream series #sam kiszka fluff #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #gvf fluff #maddie writes stuff!

[seenoversundown]

Succulent

Sam x Fem OC

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

Word Count: 6.3k

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

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

Birdie POV

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

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

“I think this is it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” he says a bit defensively.

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he says plainly, clearly focused. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On our first date? Yeah, you took–”

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

Oh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he stops. 

I whine at the loss of contact.

There’s always a game. 

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

I nod slowly. 

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

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

He stops once more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So do it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What baby?” He asks, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

Need more Sam in your life? 🩷

Sparrow Of The Dawn Masterpost 🤭

Masterlist | Taglist (or reply to be added)

Tagliiiiiiiist :

@gvfsstardust , @myleftsock , @mindastreamofcolours , @dont-go-home-without-me , @lizzys-sunflower , @mackalah , @writingcold , @i-love-gvf , @ladywhimsymoon , @earthgrlsreasy , @peaceloveunitygvf , @violet-hayes , @gretavanfan , @musicspeaks

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[readyforthegarden]

Andante, Andante

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: None, just some mutual pining, some flirting and kissing.

WC: 1457

A/N: This came to me while I was driving around the other day and the song came on. I immediately drifted off into a maladaptive daydream with Sam, so please enjoy!

You liked to keep your home peaceful, tranquil, and calm. Little noise if possible. But this afternoon, it was filled with the sounds of learning. A keyboard you bought secondhand at a garage sale propped up on a stand in front of you, you and your friend Sam sharing the small bench as best as possible. Your fingers plunked down on the plastic keys, a few sour notes and a groan from you echoing in the house.

“You’re doing good, don’t worry.” Sam gave you a supportive smile.

“I hate this.” was all you replied, removing your hands from the instrument and pouting. “Why did I even want to do this?”

You knew why. At the beginning of the year, you’d softly mentioned to Sam you wanted to learn to read music, and play an instrument, as a New Year’s resolution. You were tired of being the only person in your friend group without a lick of musical talent, and feeling left out of conversation.

Sam took off running with the idea, of course. While finishing up tour, he had sent you package after package of books on music theory, reading music for dummies, and songbooks and a few pedals for your keyboard.

“Hey, I was just as bad when I started learning.” Sam tried to soothe you, running his large, warm hand up and down your back gently.

“You had the advantage of being a kid and having a brain ripe for molding. I’m old, Sam. Ancient. My mid-twenties brain is fully formed and refuses.”

“You are never too old to learn something new.” Sam chided with a click of his tongue behind his teeth. “Why don’t we try vocabulary? You’ve always been good with words.”

“I guess.” You muttered. Sam picked up one of the books by his feet, flipping through it.

“Ah, here’s an easy one. Forte?”

“Forte means loud.” you answered. Sam grinned, nodding.

“Good, good. Can you use it in a sentence for me?” Sam asked. You sighed through your nose, trying to put together something on the fly.

“Your brother Josh enters the room in a forte manner.” you giggled, remembering the last time you saw the elder Kiszka, how he burst into the room with a bottle of wine in his hand for the dinner party.

“Valid.” Sam hummed. “Piano?”

“Soft. When we talk shit about people, our voices are very piano.” you gently tapped a key, letting the soft sound vibrate out of the speaker. “Also your hair looks very piano today.” Sam blushed, clearing his throat at your compliment.

“Thanks.”

“I mean it, your hair looks good. I like it long.” you continued. You had always had a crush on Sam. He was the funny smart guy, who looked like a 70s dreamboat. You had been devastated, secretly of course, when he cut his hair a few years ago, but now that it had grown out, you were going to make sure to remind him of how good it looked any chance you got.

“I missed it being long.” Sam replied quietly, twirling his ends around his finger. Unbeknownst to you, Sam had found out through your sometimes-confidant, Jake, that you preferred his longer hair shortly after the cut, and vowed to himself grow it back. For you. He had only gotten his hair cut short to change it up, and maybe to try and get you to notice him. He thought that if he did something drastic it would be like the movies, you’d suddenly notice he was right in front of you all along. And yet, neither of you had made a single move.

“I did too.” you admitted, reaching up and running your hands through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. “I missed braiding it during movie nights.” Sam closed his eyes at the push of your fingertips through his hair, the gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. The sound of Rosie somewhere in the house, shaking and clattering her tags broke the moment, and Sam shifted in his seat, looking back down at the book.

"Um okay, uh...how about leggiero?" Sam glanced up at you, a slight, pink blush creeping across his cheeks. You paused, your eyes scanning through an invisible book in the air in front of you as you racked your brain for the correct answer.

"Oh! Light and graceful, something I am definitely not." you chuckled under your breath. Sam felt a sudden surge through his chest. In his eyes, everything you did was graceful. You sipped your drinks with grace, walked down the street with grace, even when he was following close behind when you were tipsy and walking to the car. Hell, you even tripped, slipped and fell gracefully.

"You don't see yourself how others do." Sam's eyes widened as he realized he said it out loud, and your head whipped around to face him.

"What do you mean, Sam?" you asked softly, gazing up at him. He could pretend he didn't say it, try and move on and quiz you on more musical directions, but something in his gut told him to double down. Finally tell you how he felt about you.

"I mean, you're amazing. You keep saying you're not good at things or you're clumsy, but you don't see all the ways you dance through life. Your laugh is one of my favorite sounds ever, and when you walk into a room, the vibe changes, it becomes lighter, more vibrant. I fall in love with you over and over again every time I see you."

"You-you what?" throat feeling tight, you thought you'd misheard Sam. Surely the man who'd been the object of you affections for the past few years didn't just admit he had feelings for you.

"I-um, I..." Sam's cheeks were on fire now, he licked his lips nervously as he tried to gauge your reaction through your shock. Before he could speak again, your lips were on his. Both of you froze for a moment, but once his hands cupped your face, you felt yourself melt into him, the awkward twist of you bodies on the small bench not mattering as the two of you lost yourselves.

When the heat of the moment waned and the two of you finally pulled apart, you rested your forehead against his.

"Well, that was very espressivo." Sam chuckled, swiping his thumb across the apple of your cheek as you giggled. You gave him another peck.

"It's hard not to be expressive when your crush tells you how much they like you." you replied.

"Maybe this is how we should practice more often." Sam suggested.

"Hmm? Making out?" you hummed with another giggle.

"In a way. I'll ask you a direction, and you show me with a kiss." Sam smirked. "Like this. Staccato." you bit your bottom lip as you thought, not being able to figure out the word. You frowned, shaking your head and Sam just smiled, leaning over and pressing short, quick kisses all over your face making you laugh while his facial hair tickled your soft skin.

"Ooh I like it better when you show me." you told him. "Can you jog my memory on andante?" Sam's smirk grew as he cupped your face, bringing you in for a slow, passionate kiss. He let his fingers tangle in your hair as one of your hands rested on his thigh, fingers digging into the jean-clad limb as his tongue softly lapped with yours.

"Now," he sighed when he finally pulled away. "That was a gimmie, because I happen to know one of your favorite songs is Andante, Andante by Abba." you gave him an innocent shrug, batting your eyes.

"Get used to it, Sam." you whispered, still not have having enough of his lips as you kissed him again. "I'm gonna use every excuse in the book to kiss you from now on."

"You don't ever need an excuse again." he mumbled against your lips. "I'll kiss you from sun up til sun down, and as long as the moon is in the sky."

"We should invest in some lip balm and mouthwash then, huh?" Sam laughed and agreed. Scratching his chin, he thought for a moment.

"You know, it's getting close to dinner time, what do you say we go out for a bite?" you found yourself nodding instantly, letting him help you up from the bench.

"Then after, we can come back and practice piano? You can teach me some more?" you asked as you followed Sam towards your front door and the shoe rack. He turned suddenly and wrapped his arms around you, swaying you.

"Oh sweet thing, I plan on teaching you piano all night."

Taglist:

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#sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka #sam gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fluff #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka fanfiction

[blacksmokebarbarians]

Master of Keys

warnings: 18+ (minors DNI!!!) basically porn with plot-- degradation, dacryphilia, gagging, heavy spit kink, rough intercourse, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), pinning, marking, cunnilingus, male receiving oral, hard dom!sammy.

word count: 2k

synopsis: when configuring a song on the piano, things take a turn as your boyfriend Sam attempts to show you how it's done.

a/n: hey all! this was a request i recently got, and have really enjoyed writing! I hope you all enjoy!

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

Fingers danced among the keys, shifting from chord to chord in gentle movements, but somehow, you couldn't quite figure out what didn't sound right. As you sat on the white bench, your fingers glided across the ivories, attempting to find a tune that sounded just right in contrast to the previous chords you had played.

Letting out a sigh of deep frustration, you tried again and again, until a familiar voice peaked from the doorway. "Having some trouble there, doll?" Sammy asked, walking over to the edge of the piano. He leaned against it, watching as you played the tune once again, the sour note causing him to crinkle his nose. "I just can't figure it out.. I don't know where to go after that." You explained, exhausted from the various previous attempts. Sam nodded gently, standing up straighter. "Let's see.." He hummed, making his way to your side of the claviature.

The male watched as you played the tune over again, causing him to shake his head. "That's the problem, pretty girl.." He said gently, resting his hands over yours. "Instead of going to the G, you should move to a C.." He instructed, his hands guiding yours across the keys. Surreptitiously as you played, Sam grew closer, his chest pressing against your back gently as you continued to replay the melody. His hands slowly shifted from your hands down to your waist, his chin nuzzling against the crook of your neck comfortably. He hummed along to the song as you played, his fingers slowly tracing the waistline of your leggings.

Goosebumps pricked your skin as his chin turned, his lips coming in contact with your neck. "Sammy.. I've got to work on this song.." You insisted. Though you could feel a warmth growing in your core, finishing off the song was important to you. He shook his head, pulling away from his plump kisses to speak. "You don't truly want to stop..," His hands traveled past your waist, his fingers slowly brushing against your heat. "Already wet..? I've barely touched you.." He let out a soft laugh. Shivers were sent down your spine as your hips slowly rolled forward against his palm. He shook his head gently, his hands slipped up to keep your hips readily in place.

A desperate whine slipped past your lips. "Sammy, please don't tease me like this.." He shook his head and grabbed your chin. "That's not how you address me, and you know that damn well." He veered, his deep brown eyes staring back into yours.

"Y-Yes, sir.." A gasp left your mouth as you looked up to him, a hand gripping the bench. Slowly, Sam's thumb pushed past your lips, allowing you to take it in. "Good girl.." He murmured, watching as you swirled your tongue around his digit. "Let's see how long that lasts." He mentioned, a cunning smirk wiping across his face. He reached behind you, pushing the cover of the piano down onto the keys. His other hand had remained gently cupped beneath your jaw as he pushed his thumb further back into your mouth. He bit his lip, watching as drool slipped down your chin. "You're such a slut.. doing everything I say.."

Slipping his thumb from your lips, he drew you in for a deep kiss. His lips parted lightly, his tongue meeting with yours, his hand sliding from your chin to your neck while his other pushed you up against the piano's front. A faint whimper met his lips from yours as you felt the wood meet with your back. His hand pushed it's way up your hip, slipping beneath your shirt, coming in contact with the heat of your stomach. Leisurely, his lips left yours as your eyes met once more.

Suddenly, however, an unfamiliar semblance became visible in his chocolate iris'. You couldn't quite get a word out other than a small "Hm..?" as you studied him, attempting to unlock the strange secrets that he withheld in his mind. His palm snuck under your chin for a second time, before he finally gave you a glimpse into his head.

"Open."

Your brows furrowed curiously as you looked up at him. Unsure of what he meant, you just stared. His hand advanced to the nape of your neck, taking a hand full of hair, pulling your head back. "I said open." His voice was stern and harsh. Finally understanding, you parted your lips for him, allowing your jaw to widen. Without hesitation, he spat into your gaping mouth, his hand finally coming back to prompt your lips shut. "Swallow." He instructed.

Looking into his looming eyes, you did as he said, swallowing the warm liquid. His gaze didn't falter as he admired you. Suddenly, he pulled you down from the bench, beaming over you. "On your knees." He demanded, keeping eye contact as you knelt before him. The stiffened tent in his pants met your eyes as he took one of your hands, stroking himself with your small palm. The heat of his stiffened length radiated from his trousers into your hand as you looked up to him through hazed lashes. "Sam-- Sir.. I need you.." You begged, looking up to him in desperation. "Well, if you want to be such a needy slut, you're going to show me how badly you really want it." He elucidated.

As he undid his belt, you could feel your panties soaking through the fabric of your leggings. You needed him.. He knew exactly how to work you up, and it infuriated you. Once his belt had fell to the wooden floor, he slipped his pants off. Knowing what to do, you reached up, pulling the fabric of his briefs down, causing his length to spring out just in front of you. A bead of precum settled at his tip as you slowly pushed your hand down his shaft-- a soft groan lulling past his lips.

You knew too well that he would become relentless the second you started, so you stalled, peering up to him as your hand thrusted against him. "If you're going to whine like a slut, you need to show me how desperate you really are." He glared, taking his bottom lip beneath his teeth as his hips pushed forward against your hand. You nodded gently, swirling your tongue around his pink tip. The subtle taste of his substance came in contact.

You eased yourself down onto his length, looking up to him with bashful eyes. He knew better, pushing his hips forward in hopes for more. Sam took a fist full of your hair, guiding you against his cock as he let out another raspy moan. "Fuck-- come on, whore.. You can do better than that.." He grimaced, his length begging for more movement. He began to push your mouth down onto him, his length reaching the back of your throat. Tears pricked your eyes as a minuscule gag pushed past your lips. Picking up the pace, your movements became more fluid, your head bobbing against him. Low groans rumbled from deep within his chest as he began to use your mouth. He fucked himself further and further into you until your nose reached the base of his length.

"Just like-- shit..-- Just like that.." He moaned, throwing his head back. With each thrust, more tears began to fall from your heavy lids, taking him as deep as you could. Watching his shoulders rise and fall with each moan, you watched as he edged closer, drool falling past your lips.

"Ahh-- Fuck!" He writhed, forcing you down against his cock as his warm seed filled your throat.

Pulling away as he finished off, he glanced down to you, snickering at the sight. "Look at what a mess you've made.." He purred, wiping your tear-stained cheeks. "Get on the bench." He commanded, already working to slip your shirt off. As you sat upon the wood, his fingers met between your thighs again, pushing against your core from outside of your clothing. Your hips grinded against his palm while his other hand made it's way to your breast, squeezing it lightly. A whimper fell past your lips as you leaned back against the piano, his lips meeting with your skin once more. "P-Please.. I.."

"You what? Are you getting all worked up?" He teased, getting down in front of the bench. In one swift motion, he pulled your leggings down, slipping them off past your ankles. His lips met with your thighs, slowly trailing kisses up to the lace that traced your begging heat. Without another word, he slipped the last of your clothing off, his lips coming in contact with your throbbing clit.

"Fuck! Please, sir.. m-more.." You droned, your fingers tangling in his hair. His tongue whirled against your vulva, his fingers teasing your slit diligently. You reeled with pleasure, moans and whines escaping your mouth as you gripped the bench. Sam shifted downward, his tongue meeting with your slit as the bridge of his nose pressed against your pulsating bud. Your knuckles became white as you gripped the seat, your head falling back against the piano's edge.

Just as you were growing towards a substantial climax, your master pulled away, leaving you a whining, trembling mess. "P-Please!" You begged, squeezing your legs together. "I was so close.." You staggered, your distressed eyes meeting with his once more. "Please, Sir, I need you.. I can't take it anymore.." Your adjured with ragged breaths.

Sam spat into his palm, slicking himself with his saliva before taking hold of your hips. "If you want it that badly.." He shrugged before pushing himself deeply into you, filling you with his warm length. The sudden pressure caused a sharp cry to leave your lips, grasping onto his arms shakily. "Oh my god.."

His lips met with yours once more, your desperate hums vibrating against his lips with each coarse thrust. One of his hands groped your breast while your grasp on his forearms didn't loosen during his relentless pounding. Your face hid in the crook of his neck as he gripped your hips with an aching hold-- it would surely bruise by the morning.

"That's it, come for me.. Come for me like the slut you are.." He graveled, a low moan bellowing from him as he sharply pushed into you. "Who do you belong to?" He questioned.

Too stunned to speak, all you could let out was a shaky moan. He took you by your throat, forcing you to look up to him. "Who?" He ordered.

"Y-You! I'm all yours.." You sobbed, your legs beginning to shake with each new thrust.

"That's it, doll.. That's it.." He praised, his hand slipping down to circle around your clit. "Come for me, doll. Let me hear you.." His voice trailed, your hands making their way to hook around his neck. With the next coming thrusts, you were sent into a quivering orgasm, your moans bouncing off of the walls as his thrusts came to a slow. Feeling the liquid fill inside you, he rested his head against your shoulder weakly. Breathlessly, You could feel him twitch deep inside you.

Sam slowly pulled out, his hand coming up to caress your cheek as he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, his lips melting against yours as he finally caught his breath. He withdrew from the kiss, peppering soft kisses against your shoulders. "Fuck.." A soft laugh left his lips as he admired you through half-lidded eyes.

As you simmered down and relaxed, your fingers ran through his soft hair, slow pants escaping from your lungs. "Let's run you a bath.." He concluded, kissing your forehead gently.

Once you were finally dressed, Sam curled beneath the covers with you, pulling you close. "I love you, sweets.." He assured, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"I love you more, Sammy.." You endeared, admiring him. Your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, unable to take your eyes from him. He gave you a soft, kind smile, his hands wrapping around your waist gracefully, pulling you close to him.

#greta van fleet #sam gvf #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka blurb #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka #sam kiszka smut #samuel kiszka #gvf #danny gvf #danny wagner #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka #greta van smut #greta van fic #sammy kiszka #greta van fluff #greta van fleet one shot #greta one shot

[builtbykittie]

Electrified

S.F.K x f!reader

Summary: Escaping an uncomfortable situation at a party, you frantically look for your best friend, just to find he was also searching for you.

Warnings: 18+ per usual, alcohol consumption, SMUT, semi public sex, unprotected sex (y'all know better), this is literally just porn... nothing too crazy.

Words: nearly 4.5k

A/N: Ugh another Sam friends to lovers? Yes. This is a Taylor Swift inspired fic🥰. Every time I hear this song, I think of Sammy (despite the fact he hates pop music) So I finally wrote about it, enjoy! (Disclaimer I literally didn't edit this much at all & I'm so sorry)

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"Who are you trying to impress," Sam's eyes trace the shape of your body before looking back to the road. "Nobody," you fix the length of your dress in the passenger seat. "Why? You worried someone might try to take me home?" you smirk.

"Pfft, no," he rolls his eyes, thumbs drumming to the beat of the rock song piercing through your ears. "Then why do you care," you bicker with him as if you're siblings, trying to get each other as annoyed and worked up as possible.

The truth is, you couldn't care less if anyone else saw you. You only wanted Sam to see you, for some stupid reason. Sam is your best friend, and has been for years, so why would you even try to impress him? For the same reason everybody else tries to impress their person of choice, of course.

"Oh thank god. I'm saved!" Sam snickers as he pulls into his brother's crowded driveway. You giggle and roll your eyes "Sam you know I don't like parties, you're gonna have to deal with me eventually tonight."

"Yeah, well, I'm saved for now," he playfully grabs your knee and gives it a shake before pulling his seatbelt away from his body. "Oh shut up, you know you would gladly argue with me for hours," you unbuckle your own seatbelt, pushing the door open with your heel.

Sam helps you down from the passenger's seat, his large hand hovering over the small of your back, then gently grabbing your waist as you slip out of the seat until your heels touch the ground. "You got me," he grins. It's simple touches like these that keep you on your toes, a wave of electricity flowing through your body every. single. time.

You look around at the countless cars lined up in front of Josh's house, starting to grow anxious. "I'll be in there the whole time. If anything happens, just find me," Sam pats your back and gestures for you to follow him into his brother's house.

All you really want is to stay in and watch movies, but Sam wouldn't dare to miss his big brother's party, and you don't blame him.

Sam parts ways with you within just minutes of being in the house, instantly going to mingle with any person who catches his attention. You grow a little jealous, not just of the other people getting his attention but also of his social skills. You wish you could make conversation with people as effortlessly as he could, but instead, you hunt for any person you're relatively close with.

"Y/N!" You hear your name being called by a voice you could recognize from miles away. "Jake?" You locate him in just seconds, walking over and pulling him into a side hug. "You here with Sam?" Jake looks around for any sight of his younger brother.

"Yeah. He left me as soon as we got through the door," you smile, swinging your arm through the air as if to swat away a pesky fly. "Yeah.. Sam's an asshole," he laughs, but he can't seem to mask the look of concern playing on his features.

The unbearable sounds of Sam shouting with others only seem to make you more upset. You should be happy that your best friend can have fun and be himself, but it all just gets caught up in a fit of jealousy. "You don't need to worry about me. Do you know where Josh is?" You look around, having not seen Josh once at his own party.

"Hm, downstairs maybe. You know how Josh is, he's just trying to converse with everyone," you nod your head, giggling as you picture his adorable self going around to every single person here and making them feel welcome.

"Well, I'm gonna go look for him. I'll see you later," you wave, squeezing through and dodging everyone till you reach the stairs. There he is, his slim figure facing away from you as he talks to someone at the bottom of the stairs. You wait there only for a few seconds until Josh discovers you himself, swiftly making his way up the stairs "Y/N! When did you get here? Where's Sam?"

"There he is! We didn't show up too long ago. And Sam's gotta be around here somewhere." Josh pulls you into an embrace, stepping back and complimenting your dress. "Thanks, Sam didn't like it," you giggle "I gotta say, you always have the best parties. You truly are a man of many talents."

You and Josh are rudely interrupted by a woman's voice shouting your name, followed by a cold hand wrapping around your arm. Your brows furrow, giving Josh a puzzled look before turning around to meet eyes with a girl you knew, but not well enough.

She's obviously wasted, her eyes bloodshot, her skin a deep shade of crimson, not to mention the fact you can hardly understand her "I haven't seen you in forever!" You avoid any physical contact, lest she spills her drink on your brand new dress you'd spent all afternoon staring at yourself in. "Hey, Jen. Been a while, huh?" There's no doubt in your mind that this conversation would be 100% less painful if you had something in your system, but you were completely sober.

"Let me get you a drink," she pats your shoulder and gestures toward the counter that is littered with countless alcohol bottles, empty and full. It's as if she read your mind. You let out a sigh of relief, turning back to Josh but he's not there, and now you're surrounded by people you'd rather not be around.

Normally you wouldn't take a drink made by someone else, but these are Josh's friends, and Jen was 100% a girls girl. "Thank you," you take the drink from her hand, awkwardly sipping off the red solo cup filled with what tastes like a mix of vodka and cherry juice.

"We're playing games in the living room, you should come join," Jen grabs you, pulling you in the direction of the living room before you can even say anything.

"Oh no, I'm so bad at games, I'll just embarrass myself," you whine, but letting her drag you into the room of people nonetheless. "Not skill games, silly!" She points at everyone sitting in a circle, familiar faces looking up and insisting you to sit. It all feels so childish, like a bunch of high schoolers that got ahold of their parent's alcohol, playing games to get a rise out of each other.

You find Jake in the circle as well, a defeated smile on his face as he shrugs in your direction. "Fine," everyone cheers, scooting over to make room for you and the dark-haired girl next to you. Jake is sitting straight across from you, his sweet brown eyes calming you down and silently telling you to relax, to have fun.

You're not sure when, but at some point, the questions being asked have taken a sharp turn from being embarrassing yet harmless, to being strictly about the sex lives of everyone in the circle.

All color drains from your face as the bottle slows down, pointing straight at you. You already know the question is gonna be about you and Sam, it always is.

"Have you hooked up with Sammy yet? What's he like in bed?"

"I haven't... which is a surprise considering he'll take any girl home," you fail to hide the venom and jealousy that has laced your voice, everyone giggling and "ooh" ing like little children. "Just spin the damn bottle. I don't wanna hear about Sam's sex life anymore," Jake saves you from any more invasive questions, sending a wink in your direction.

You sit miserably through a couple more rounds and a few more drinks, the constant discussion of sex reminding you that you haven't gotten off in a while. You've been so busy for the past few days, you'd completely forgotten how long you've gone without a good orgasm.

Wetness in your panties becomes evident to you as you adjust your position. For every minute you sit there, the anticipation grows, your heart pounding and your hands trembling as you absent-mindedly search for Sam every other second. Your mind sifts through every possible affair, unsure of how to fix your problem. Do you relieve yourself in Josh's bathroom? Look for someone to go home with?

Finally, you stand up, your legs beginning to carry you away from the circle before your brain can even make a decision. "Excuse me," you ignore everyone's stares and questions, moving through the house as if you're on autopilot mode.

You still don't know where you're going, but when you find yourself subconsciously searching for Sam's face, it becomes apparent what you truly want. Now you're frantic, plowing through people and shamelessly calling his name. You're in a daze as you search every corner of Josh's house, not paying any care to how beside yourself you may look or how desperate you may sound to lingering guests.

Turning the corner to yet another crowded room, you run into someone's chest, exhilaration coursing through your veins and what's left of your inhibitions melting away as you realize it's Sam.

"Sam! I was looking everywhere for you!" you basically throw yourself onto him, smoothing your palms over his chest. "I was looking for you," his tone is sexy, hypnotizing sultry brown eyes stare into yours. You don't know if it's just the drinks, but there's a specific energy radiating off of Sam's warm body. If you stand there for long enough, breathing him in, you're sure that it will get you high.

An overwhelming feeling takes complete control over you, lifting yourself slightly to whisper in his ear "I need you, Sam." You shock yourself, unsure where your sudden bluntness came from.

You watch Sam's eyes widen and feel his chest rise and fall underneath your hands, his body growing unbelievably hot.

Sam's breath significantly picks up as you cup his face, rubbing your thumb across the warm surface. You back him into a dark part of the room, starting to press kisses against his neck.

He looks around in a panic, but luckily no one is looking "Y/N, we're leaving. Now." His lanky fingers wrap around your wrist, and he begins to pull you through the house, nearly running.

You both are far too turned on to say goodbye to anyone or pay attention to comments people make as you pass by. But to your misfortune, Josh stops you.

"Hey! Are you two leaving already?" Josh quirks an eyebrow as he notices something on Sam's neck, a smirk playing on his lips after connecting the dots. "Uh, yeah," Sam searches for an excuse "You know how she is with parties." Sam lifts your arm as you awkwardly smile beside him.

"Okay, well, it was really nice to see you. Enjoy yourselves," Josh doesn't pull you in for a hug like he normally would, instead just sending you on your way. His smug tone and grin would normally send you into a panic, but right now you couldn't care less about anything other than Sam.

You hope to make a beeline straight out the door, but you're stopped by yet another Kiszka brother and Daniel by his side.

"There you are. Leaving?" Jake's eyes flick down to the same spot Josh noticed, now you're curious. Sam nods "She's not feeling great and I'm her ride." Jake snickers and taps Danny with his elbow, a crooked smile growing on his face "I'm sure you are."

"Oh fuck off. Are you gonna let us leave?" Sam doesn't even try to act calm, the more you stand the more the anticipation builds. "You can't stay just a little longer?" Danny smirks, Jake bringing his hands up to rest on his hips.

"No," now you're incredibly impatient and unable to stand still as your arousal soaks your panties "I really don't feel good." "Awh... Well.. you heard the girl," Jake laughs through his words, sending a jab to Danny's side with his elbow. Danny slings his arm over Jake's shoulder as they begin to take steps backward "see ya!"

"Fuck. Finally," Sam breathes, and you look over to him, your lipstick painted all over his neck. "Sam," you whisper, but he's too distracted to hear it, or anything anyone is saying. Suddenly, the room erupts with hollers as Sam shoves you through the door.

"Sam, they all know," you whine, reaching a hand up to massage his scalp as he pulls you into his side. "Good," he pulls his keys from his pocket, unlocking the car and practically running to it. Sam walks around to the driver's side, and that's when you realize you can't wait any longer.

"Sam," you drop your head, fully aware of how desperate you've become. "What baby?" He opens the door, a smug grin pulling on his cheeks. "Sam I- I can't... I need you."

"I thought you'd say that," he snickers, slamming the door shut and pulling the door to the back seat open. You waste no time sending the door flying open and crawling in, locking the door behind you.

Your lips instantly find his, your teeth clashing into each other's as you smash your lips together. "What were you thinking?" Sam sucks in a breath as he backs you toward the door and hovers over you. Before you can respond he starts again "I mean seriously. Wearing this tiny fucking dress. Kissing me in front of those people. Getting me all worked up."

A whiney moan escapes your mouth as he lifts the hem of your dress, his cold fingertips grazing the skin of your upper thigh. "I knew you'd like it," you confess in a moan, lifting your hands and tangling them in his hair, pulling him into you.

Suddenly, he violently pulls the silk black fabric above your head. Your words obviously sparked a fire in him, a vicious one nobody could put out. Sam's fingers rake over your thighs then up to your unclothed breasts, groaning at the sight "You knew full well what you were doing dressed like this."

Sam takes your nipple in his mouth before releasing it with a pop and sucking a bruise to the swell of your breast. "So what if I did, Sammy?" You moan, arching your back into him. You reach down and cup his bulge, palming him as a devilish grin grows on your face.

"Then I'll just have to fuck you until you can't see straight." With that, he begins to trail kisses down your breasts to your navel, his finger drawing lines across your skin so close to where you desperately need his touch.

"Sam, please," you whine, back arching up into his touch as he kisses along the band of your panties. Your pleads are met with a sick laughter against your tummy "you're so needy, you know that?"

You couldn't roll your eyes back further in your head, trying your very hardest to not reach down and pull your panties off yourself. "You can't act like you don't need it just as bad, Sam. I know how bad you want to fuck me," you moan, knowing it'd set off something in him.

You were right, because without warning he swiftly pulls the tiny piece of lace fabric down your legs, leaving you completely naked. "Jesus, you're eager, huh?" Sam hums and brings his lips to your tummy, sucking the skin into his mouth before lapping at the raw skin with his tongue.

"You just can't admit it huh Sammy? You can't admit that I'm right?" You try to get him as worked up as you possibly can, your body rolling into his touch. "Wow. You're right, Y/N. I'm just dying to feel you," he rolls his eyes dramatically, but he's far from lying.

Slowly and painfully, Sam makes a line of kisses down from your navel to the very top of your heat. "Please.." is all you can muster up and your eyes clamp shut in anticipation, just waiting for him to do something, anything.

"Now you're being nice? What happened to the bratty girl who was here just a second ago?" Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his hot breath against your core. "Sam, stop. Plea-" you're unable to finish your sentence when he suddenly points his tongue, dragging it through your arousal drenched folds.

You suck in a choked gasp, involuntarily pushing yourself against Sam's face, earning a hum against your heat. The vibration sends a shock through your body, your hands mindlessly flying to his hair "oh Sam..."

His tongue quickly warmed up to you, it was as if he already knew your body. Without warning, Sam shoves a finger in you, hitting a sweet spot as he does so. "Sam.. I can- I'm almost-" you're interrupted by your own moan as he pushes another finger in, instantly curling up.

Sam lifts his head to look you in the eye, stopping his movement causing you to whine at the loss of contact "can you do one more?" You're a bit taken back by the question "I- I don't know... Nobody's ever..."

"I know you can," he presses a peck to your clit and slowly slides in a third, stretching you out in a way you've never experienced before. "Oh- oh my god.. Sam,"

"Good girl... You're so tight around my fingers, baby. Are you close?" All you can muster up is a weak nod and a hum, pushing yourself down onto his fingers further. You find yourself holding your breath, a moan ripping through your chest as he presses the flat of his tongue against your clit.

You take the opportunity to grind against his tongue, your hips beginning to shake and your thighs burn when you feel your orgasm approach. Your movements significantly quicken, relentlessly grinding and pushing yourself against Sam's tongue as he viciously rams his fingers into you.

Within a matter of seconds, the burning pleasure flows through your entire body, your eyes shut so tightly you might need to pry them open as you mutter his name over and over.

"Fuck, Y/N," Sam breathlessly snickers, slowly pulling his fingers from you and rubbing the slick all around your core. He returns to hover over you, bringing his face down to your ear "you know... A couple girls tried to take me home.. but I was looking for you, Y/N."

Your eyes widen in confusion and you nod your head, silently telling him to continue. "I couldn't stop thinking about you.. that dress.. your body. I needed you. Only you," he takes the shell of your ear in between his teeth, gently biting down.

The confession sends a shiver down your spine and your mouth falls open once he finds a sensitive spot behind your ear. You reach up and push his head against your neck, you can basically hear your heartbeat in your ears as he continues to nip at and place open mouth kisses to your neck.

"I thought you didn't like the dress," you smirk, your other arm reaches down, desperately trying to find what you need so bad. "So greedy... you're not satisfied with just these?" Sam teases, dragging his fingers through your heat.

"Sam, stop," you moan, your body jolting at the touch. Another wicked snicker leaves his lips as he presses his clothed bulge to your core "that attitude isn't gonna get you anywhere, doll. Ask nicely."

As much as you hate it, you're ready to accept defeat. "Please, Sam. I need you. Please... give it to me," you whine, grinding up against his bulge. An animalistic groan bubbles up from from his chest as he props himself up with one hand, the other fumbling with his button.

"Need help with that?" You giggle, watching as he fails to swiftly undo his jeans. You don't let him respond, his head dips down to rest in the crook of your neck as you reach to finish the task yourself.

Within just seconds you get his button undone and his zipper down, pushing them to his knees and instantly cupping his erection. Suddenly, you start to process just exactly what is happening.

He lifts his head and you look into his gorgeous brown eyes, yours widening as you take in every feature of his face lit by the moonlight. "What is it baby? You nervous?" He smiles at you, his hands running down your body, squeezing painfully at your thighs.

"Well I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, Sammy," you confess, and his face softens, the devious smile that played on his lips visually turning into a fond grin.

"Oh, Y/N. There's no need to be nervous, I promise," he brings his head back down to softly kiss your lips, but you had something else in mind. You take the opportunity to palm him through his boxers, eliciting a desperate groan from him. You can tell he's been holding back, and it's painful.

You bite his lip as he pulls back, every ounce of doubt or anxiety draining from your body. "Tell me, pretty," he pushes his boxers past his hips, his unbelievably hard cock springing free. "You knew I'd like that dress?"

If you're being honest, you completely forgot you had even said that, but it's obvious he'd been working himself into a frenzy over it. "Sammy.. I wore it for you," you drag your fingers over his body, his breath hitching in his throat as you draw a line down his length with your fingertip.

"I wore it because I thought.. I don't know.. it'd turn you on..." You trail off, looking away from him and suddenly hyper-aware of your naked body. "Well it worked, didn't it?" He giggles, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him "does this mean you've wanted to fuck me before tonight?"

"Well... I mean yeah," you reach down, grasping the base of his cock "are we just gonna lay here and have a conversation or do you want to fuck me, Sam?" A shocked look plays on his face which quickly morphs into a sinister smile "you're feisty."

You grasp the back of his neck, bringing him close to you and sucking on the skin behind his ear as you slowly stroke his cock. "God- damnit Y/N," Sam groans as he involuntarily fucks himself into your hand.

Just as he juts his hips to fuck himself into your hand, you move it, and push him down to be lined up with your dripping entrance. "Fuck me until I can't see straight, Sam," you whisper lowly into his ear, granting him permission to enter you.

"Oh fuck," he groans, your own noises mirroring his as he stretches you out so slow that the sting could become almost too much for you. You arm instinctively flies over his back, pushing him down closer to you "oh my god."

Within just a matter of seconds he begins to roll his hips, snapping them into the meat of your thigh and hitting a sweet spot just right. The moan that tumbles past your lips could disturb the entire first floor of the party still very alive and just feet away from you and Sam.

"Yeah you like that?" He punctuates his words with another sharp thrust, followed by a slow, languid thrust. "Mhm.." your eyebrows knit together, unable to form words as he keeps up this intoxicating pattern.

Your mind grows foggy, your only thoughts consisting strictly of Sam. "M- more," you whine and reach down to unbutton his shirt, desperate to feel his skin on yours.

"More? Are you sure you want that?" Sam struggles to form his own sentence as you clench and quiver around him. You nod your head frantically, pulling his chest down onto yours and arching your back up into him.

The slight change in position allowed Sam to go even deeper, the new leverage giving you everything you needed. "Oh Sam.. right there.. oh," you cry, clawing his back.

He feels too good

He hits an especially sensitive spot with a particularly rough thrust, a shocking wave of electricity flowing through your body. "Holy- holy shit..." you all but shriek, and you violently throw your head back, crashing into the door behind you.

"Woah- you okay?" Sam's movements never falter, keeping that same pattern. "Yes, Sam. Just keep- keep fucking me," you finally get the full sentence out after what feels like forever, and you know you're not going to last much longer.

You try to warn him, but your pathetic attempts to form words fail miserably. "Shit Y/N... you're so-" he interrupts himself with a guttural groan as his own orgasm to approaches.

Just as you requested and he promised, what was left of your vision completely fades away and you no longer fight to keep your eyes open.

Suddenly, fiery white pleasure viciously burns through your body and you're sure you've never felt anything like this before as you cry out his name over and over and over. "Shit. Shit shit shit," Sam's pleasure takes over his mind and you feel his hot release spurt inside you.

You're unsure just how much time has passed, but it's enough to bring you back down to earth. "Sam? You still with me?" You giggle, rubbing his back as you half expect him to be asleep.

"I'm here," he breathes, a wave of melancholy taking over your mind as you realize it's over. "I'm gonna pull out love, you ready?" All you can do is nod, clamping your eyes shut and preparing yourself. You bite back a whimper as he pulls from you, a mix of your juices dripping down your leg.

The last thing you'd expect is Sam going down and licking the mess up. A sharp, yet intoxicating feeling shocking your body as he licks through your folds and over you overstimulated clit.

"Think you could go another round?" You whisper, untangling his sweaty hair. His head shoots up to meet your eyes, a sinister grin playing over his features "go get in the front... We're going home."

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#greta van fleet #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #gvf smut #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka #sam gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf

[alwaysonthemend]

Ménage a Quatre

Author’s Note: Requested by @ignite-my-fire , this fic was an absolute delight to write. It’s way longer than I had initially planned so sorry for the delay. I think this is the fic that’s officially making me go to hell but I’d say it’s fucking worth it because damn was this fun to write. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sorry for any typos/mistakes! Please note, there is no slash in this fic, as this is not Alabama. (I can make that joke because I was born there)

Summary: You’ve known the Kiszkas for practically their entire lives. Your friendship with them is a little unique given that you’ve slept with all three of them over the years, but you never made it official with any of them. You figure it’s just a matter of time before they find out the truth and  you know that once they do, you’ll probably never hear from any of them ever again. They're just about to finish up the last leg of tour and you discover that it’s actually quite the opposite. 

Content Warnings: Forgive me father for I have sinned. Foursome. Cussing, dirty talk, name calling, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, hand jobs, unprotected sex. Overall just very dirty. Needless to say, 18+ MINORS DNI (plz) 

Word Count: 5056

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These situations were rarely ever simple. And yours is extra complicated given that you’d been friends with the Kiszka brothers for most of their lives. You’d met them all the way back in middle school when you’d shared a class with Sam. He had invited you over to his house to hang out and, as the years passed, you became good friends with Jake and Josh as well. You had been with them for all of it – from their first few band practices in the garage to Greta Van Fleet becoming famous. And somehow, they still considered you family, despite their newfound rockstar status. 

It started, you suppose, with Sammy. Since you two are the same age, he’d always been the one that you considered yourself closest to. And sure, you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive, especially as he grew into the man he is now. And he’d always been the one that you figured you might have a shot with. He’d been your first kiss in the 8th grade, and he’d been the one to take your virginity after a drunken homecoming party your senior year. And though it had been incredible, and the two of you slept with each other a few more times that summer, you had never made it official. 

Things changed though when you were a sophomore in college and Josh had come alone to visit you. The thing about Josh is that he always comes across as a little flirty, and you had never paid it any mind. But during that particular visit, the banter back and forth between the two of you had been at an all time high. Little touches of his would linger, and you would often catch him staring at you as you passed. Inevitably, you fell into bed with him – just as you had with Sam years before. It was incredible. Josh is a giving lover (just as you always assumed he’d be) and your time together that night haunted your dreams for months after he left. You’d always had a little crush on Sam, but suddenly you found yourself looking at Josh in a brand new light. You felt terribly guilty and chalked it up to the Kiszka charm and did your best to push the both of them from your mind. 

And then came your graduation party. Josh, Jake, and Sam – along with all of your other friends and family were present. The night was full of excitement and catching up and plenty of alcohol to go around. You would blame that alcohol for a long time for what happened. Sleeping with the third Kiszka brother was, you insisted to yourself, merely a result of drinking way too much. Jake was nothing like Josh or Sam. He was dominant, commanding. And you loved every minute of it. His fingers were fucking magical, calloused and talented, and he had brought you to the edge so many times you had lost count. And as you laid there that night, head resting on his shoulder as he slept, you realized that you were completely, irrevocably, and utterly fucked. 

Sleeping with your childhood best friend was one thing, but fucking both of his older brothers was a whole other problem. The guilt ate away at you, consuming your thoughts and souring any moment you shared with them. And the worst part of it was, you couldn’t really make yourself regret any of it. All three of them had given you nights that you would never forget, and any other man you tried to sleep with paled in comparison. You couldn’t even pleasure yourself without your mind drifting to those nights – imagining the way Sam thrust into powerfully, or the way Josh ate you out like a man starved, or the way Jake had stared into your eyes has he edged you for what felt like the millionth time. You’d had a taste of the talented Kiszka brothers, and you were hungry for me – no matter how wrong it was. 

The years passed and, despite your best efforts, you slept with them all a handle of times each. And each and every time the guilt chipped away at you, eating away at your thoughts constantly. You never said a word to any of them about the whole situation, and as the years passed it got harder and harder to think of a way to bring it up to them. Eventually, you just accepted that one day they’d all find out and your friendship with the Kiszkas would be ruined forever and that there was nothing you could really do about it. The best you could do was enjoy each encounter as much as you could and be thankful while it lasted. 

But things would soon change for all four of you. The release of the Battle at Garden’s Gate and the beginning of the Dreams in Gold Tour changed your world completely. The first leg had been brutal as you hardly got to see the boys at all. On one of the few instances in which they were all at home, taking a break, Sam had approached you with an offer you couldn’t refuse. 

“Y/n,” He’d said one day whilst the two of you were sitting at the table eating a light lunch, “how would you feel about coming with us for this last leg of the tour?” 

Your eyes had grown comically large and you stared at him. 

“I mean, ya! I’d love to but… why?” You wrung your hands together, nervous. “I mean, I FaceTime you guys all the time. It’s not like we never get to talk when you’re on tour.”

“I know.” Sam had said, eyes staring at you intently. “But the truth is… I miss the way we used to be.” He glanced down, suddenly bashful. “I miss the nights we used to have together and I thought that maybe, if you were on tour with us, we could do it again.” 

The panic that washed over you had been unlike anything you’d ever felt before. The back of your neck grew hot as the guilt that you thought you had escaped reared its ugly head ten fold. The fear must have shown on your face because Sam was quick to backtrack. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! I… I just thought I’d ask.” 

“It’s not that, Sammy. I want to. Of course I want to. It’s just…” You trailed off, desperately trying to come up with a reason other than the terrible truth. You couldn’t think of anything. 

“Sam, there’s no way for me to tell you this without sounding like the worst fucking person on the planet, and I hope we can still be at least sort of friends after I tell you… but I understand if you decide against ever talking to me ever again because-” 

“Y/n.” Sam silenced your rambling. “I know. We all know.” 

You stared, unbelieving. 

“Know what?” It couldn’t be true. 

“Do you really think three brothers aren’t going to brag to each other about sleeping with the hottest fucking girl we know?” He laughed and took a sip of his drink. “Granted, we didn’t immediately know we all were talking about the same one but… once we did, none of us really cared.” 

Your jaw fell open as you stared at him. Your brain was barely processing the words he was saying. They had known? All these years? And not one of them had thought to mention it to you… 

“And… you’re all, you know… okay with it?” You asked in a shaky voice. 

“Duh. I’m not the only one who wants you on tour with us. Josh and Jake both wholeheartedly want you there with us, too.” He watched your face morph from emotion to emotion – from panic, fear, confusion, and finally doubt. “I promise y/n. We’re all cool with it. I wouldn’t have asked you to come along with us if we all hadn’t talked about it first. So,” He spread his arms wide and grinned at you, “What'll it be, y/n?” 

And that’s how you found yourself traveling the world with Greta Van Fleet, spending your nights partying with them and sleeping with them whenever they pleased. It was weird at first, having sex with each of them whilst knowing that they all knew, but eventually the oddness faded. Sam, Jake, and Josh were the handsomest fuckers to ever walk the planet, and you were lucky enough to be able to have all three of them. And to be honest, you were having the time of your fucking life. 

As time passed, the whole situation began to feel a little less strange. Granted, your situation was anything but normal – but you found yourself and the Kiszkas enjoying life far more than you had been before. There was never any weirdness or animosity between you all – much to your relief. Even if one of them walked in on you with another, there were never any hard feelings. Usually just a smirk and an apology, often accompanied by a laugh as they exited the room. The life became normal – despite being so atypical, and time flew by. Before you all knew it, the tour was drawing to a close. 

It was the night of the last show. The boys had absolutely killed it out on stage (just like they always did) but there had been something particularly special about their performance this time. Sam had looked downright ethereal out on stage, effortlessly playing the best he had all tour. Josh’s vocals had been heavenly, and the raw emotion that he was feeling at the end of the tour had been evident – making his singing even more powerful than usual. And Jake’s last Weight of Dreams solo had been mesmerizing, his mannerisms becoming practically feral by the end as he basically fucked his guitar on stage. By the end, you excused yourself to your hotel room, completely wound up after the show. You needed some relief, and you didn’t care which of them it was. At this point, you just needed whoever showed up at your door first. They all had their own spare key, so you were sure it was a race of who could get here first.

It was Jake that made it first. You heard the door unlock and he strode across the room quickly, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a hot kiss to your neck. He was still sweaty and warm against you, and you could easily feel his cock through his stage pants. You turned in his grasp to face him, pressing your lips to his in a needy kiss. 

“You looked incredible out there tonight, Jakey.” You said between kisses. He chuckled as he detached himself from you to close the door behind himself. 

“Thank you, y/n. Got myself a little worked up.” He turned back around and gave you a pointed grin. 

“Oh?” You asked, walking slowly over to the bed. “Something I can help with?” 

Jake let out a growl deep in his chest as he wasted no time in stripping his stage clothes, tossing them to the floor in a heap. He walked confidently over to you, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling your head back to expose your throat. 

“You know exactly what I need, sweet girl.” He released you. “Strip.” He ordered, and you quickly complied, almost falling over in your haste to rid yourself of your own clothes. 

Once free of your clothes, you crawled onto the bed and leaned back, hair splayed out like a halo around your head. You let your legs fall apart, giving Jake a clear view of your glistening folds. 

“Well then,” You said, eyes hooded and heart racing, “come and take it.” 

Jake wasted no time before jumping onto the bed, the springs creaking as his weight settled. He dove between your thighs, licking a stripe up your pussy. You threw your head back and moaned loudly, uncaring if anyone heard you. Jake began to eat you out like he was a starving man given his first meal, and he quickly had you spewing curses and moans loudly. So loud, in fact, that neither of you heard the door to the room open and close. 

“God damn, she is a fucking sight to behold.” Your eyes snapped open at the sound of Josh’s voice. Jake detached himself from your dripping cunt, turning to give his twin a smirk. 

“Don’t stop on my account, brother.” Josh said grinning, eyes still trained on your pussy. “Do you mind if I join in on the fun? It is the last show and all…”

They both were looking at you now, and neither of their gazes were demanding. Truly, it was your choice, and you knew that you could say ‘no’ without either of them becoming upset. You thought for a moment, weighing the idea in your mind. Though you’d been sharing them the whole time, none of you had ever crossed the line of sharing at the same time. But you’d be a big fat liar if you said you hadn’t imagined it before – secret, dirty dreams in which you got to have all three of them at once. And well, two out of three ain’t bad. 

“I’d love for you to join.” You said, voice still a little shaky from Jake’s earlier attention. 

“You sure?” Jake asked, placing a warm palm on your thigh. “It’s okay if you say no.”

“No hard feelings at all, love. Promise.” Josh added, giving you a sweet smile. 

“I’m sure. Promise.” You echo Josh’s words and both of their smiles grow. 

“Perfect.” Josh said, already beginning to step out of his jumpsuit. He lets it pool around his feet before stepping out of it and you can’t help but moan at the sight of him. Jake brings his mouth back down on your throbbing cunt, and you clench your eyes shut and groan loudly. You feel the bed dip next to you as Josh climbs in, leaning down to press wet kisses to your tits. 

“Sammy’s gonna be so jealous that he’s missing out.” You sigh, fighting to keep your voice from cracking. 

“Mmm. Probably.” Josh agrees, before swirling his tongue around one of your hard nipples. You moan loudly as Jake suckles on your clit for a moment before sitting up. His face is wet with your juices and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Do you want me to text him?” Jake asks quietly, and Josh sits up as well. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Jake hastily adds. “Two is one thing. All three might be the death of you.” He grins and Josh scoffs at him. 

“There were probably a million better ways you could have phrased that.” You laugh at Josh’s comment and Jake gives you both a joking scowl. 

“Yeah, probably.”  You pause again, gathering your racing thoughts. This whole night is becoming a wet dream come true. “Text him, Jake.”

He nods and rises from the bed to extract his phone from the pile of clothes on the floor by the door. He taps his fingers quickly across the screen. 

“He was waiting just down in the lobby bar.” He says, clicking his phone off and lying it back on top of his clothes. “He was gonna wait for his turn.” He chuckles as he returns to the bed. 

It doesn’t take long for the door to open again, and Sam enters the room. His hair is framing his pretty face beautifully and you lick your lips at the sight of him. 

“Hey, Sammy.” You whisper, eyes dark and chest flushed with excitement. He’s only wearing his stage pants and you can see his cock straining beneath them.

“Hey, y/n.” He says, walking over to the side of the bed. 

The three brothers look to each other, eyes dancing back and forth amongst themselves, almost as if they’re carrying a conversation with each other. Knowing them and their close bonds, they probably are.  

“Well,” Josh finally says, voice horse and gruff, “a menage a quatre it is, then.” He grins and Sam and Jake do the same, before all of their eyes turn to you. You gulp. You feel like prey, being stalked through the woods by a pack of wild animals. And in a sense, you are. This whole experience with them has been eye opening, as you’ve learned more about yourself and what you like than ever before. Sam, Josh, and Jake have given you a freedom that you’ve never had before, and one that you probably won’t have again. 

‘Tonight, pretty girl,” Sammy whispers, “you’re ours.” He says, tracing a finger along the curve of your jaw. 

“All ours, my dear.” Josh murmurs as he leans down, ghosting his lips over your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

Jake roughly grips the meat of one of your ass cheeks and squeezes, calloused fingers digging into your flesh. 

“And you’re gonna fucking take it however we want it.” He says, eyes dark and sparkling. 

You swallow thickly and nod your head wordlessly, senses already overwhelmed and every nerve in your body on fire. Sam slides his pants down and off him, allowing his hard cock to spring free. He climbs onto the bed and settles onto his knees by your feet. You turn your head to watch him, entranced by the grace of his movements. In your peripheral you see Josh’s curly head descend upon your skin, leaving wet, hot kisses on your neck. He nips and bites as he goes, drawing breathy little moans from you. 

“So pretty like this, baby girl.” He says as he licks into your mouth, tongue plunging into you to explore. He swallows your moan as Sam takes over from Jake earlier, lapping between your folds and circling your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine, tossing your head back as Josh brings his mouth back to your tits while one hand tweaks your other nipple. He wraps his free hand around his cock and begins to fuck into his own hand. 

“Such pretty noises.” He moans around your breast. 

“Such pretty lips, too.” Jake says, sinking to his knees above your head, looking down on you as his hair falls around his face. “Bet they’d look so nice wrapped around my cock.” 

“She’s a little slut for sucking cock, Jake.” Sam says, rising briefly from your cunt and your pussy clenches at the loss of stimulation.

Jake grips your jaw with his hand and forces it open before sliding his hard length into your waiting mouth. You relax your tongue and swallow him down deep as you can go and hollow your cheeks. He fucks into your mouth and you can only watch as his eyes fall closed and he throws his head back in pleasure. 

Without warning, Sam plunges two fingers into you, stroking your walls with a ‘come here’ motion. You moan and almost choke around Jake’s cock, but you push through it and your eyes water with the effort. Your every sense is overwhelmed as Josh nips and bites at your tits. Jake’s moans and grunts as he fucks into your mouth are fucking pornographic and Sam’s fingers are quickly guiding you onto the edge. 

You reach your right hand out blindly, finding Josh’s hand where he’s stroking himself. You swat it away, relying only on your peripheral to see. You begin to pump his cock for him instead and he lets out a loud groan. 

“See that, Jake?” He says through clenched teeth. “Letting you fuck into her mouth and jacking me off at the same time… Such a talented little whore.” 

You moan at his words and the vibration makes Jake moan as well. He pulls his cock from you and a string of saliva falls from your lips. 

“Mmm.” He nods, brushing your sweaty hair from your forehead. “Such a good girl.” Jake observes you with dark eyes as you practically writhe on the bed. He can tell that you’re about to cum all over Sam’s fingers and yet you’re still giving Josh the handjob of his life. 

“Cum for me, y/n.” Sam demands, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace. “Cum on my fingers.” And that’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap. Your hand drops from Josh’s dick as your mouth drops open and you let out a wail as you ride through the pleasure. 

“Fucking gorgeous.” Josh whispers, watching you fall apart. When you finally come down, you're met with all the Kiszkas looking at you like you’re the only girl in the whole world. And to them, you are. You’re struck again by the craziness of the situation you’ve found yourself in, surrounded by the three most attractive men you’ve ever met, all willing to share in your pleasure. 

“Get on your hands and knees.” Sam commands, snapping you back into the moment. 

You scramble up from your lying down position and do as you're told, sinking to your hands and knees in the middle of the bed. It creaks loudly as you let your weight settle, making sure to stick your ass up in the air to give them a show. 

“Always so fucking eager to please…” Jake mutters approvingly, giving your ass an appreciative squeeze before sliding underneath you on his back. In this position, his hard cock rests at attention between your breasts and his mouth is right beneath your dripping pussy. You rest your forearms on either side of his hips and lick his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you down so that you're sitting on his face. He plunges his tongue into you, moving in and out slowly. 

Josh rises from his place by your side and scoots over so that he’s directly behind you. Sitting up on his knees, he fucks into his own hand lazily as he admires the sight of your ass up in the air. 

“You ready for my cock, baby?” He asks and you nod. 

He slides into you in one long thrust, moaning loudly as he bottoms out. 

“Shit!” You cry, the feeling of his cock stretching you coupled with Jake’s tongue is fucking overwhelming.

“Jesus, look at you.” Sam says, coming to rest at Jake’s feet. 

“Lemme suck you off, Sammy.” You moan, looking up at him with hooded eyes. 

“You guys hear that?” Sam says, chuckling darkly. “She wants to suck my cock.” 

“Fuck, y/n,” Josh says, thrusting in and out of you. “You’re a fucking sight to behold. Jesus.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Sam sits up and you open your mouth and wrap your lips around him. You hollow your cheeks and bob your head as much as you can. The pleasure washing over you is so intense you can hardly focus and drool is falling from the corners of your lips, but you keep going. 

Jake suckles on your clit and you yelp around Sam’s cock, and Josh squeezes your ass cheeks as he pistons his hips in and out of you. Beneath you, Jake begins sliding his cock between your breasts, – never once letting up with his tongue, but still in desperate need for his own release. The sounds you’re making are making him feel fucking feral. 

Sam moans as you suck him off, and he tangles his fingers in your hair as he begins to fuck into your mouth in earnest. His cock hits the back of your throat and he groans loudly. You’re wound so tight you can hardly fucking stand it and your second orgasm is quickly overtaking you. You pull off Sam’s cock for a moment, wailing loudly. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum. Oh fuck.” The moan that falls from your mouth as you cum for the second time is high pitched and needy, and you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so drunk on pleasure. Your mouth falls open in a perfect ‘o,’ and Sam takes the opportunity to thrust his cock back between your lips again. Your pussy clenches around Josh’s cock, pulling a loud moan from him and Jake laps at your release. You can feel his dick twitch between your breasts and he moans as he tastes you. 

“Fuck, y/n. You’re so fucking tight.” Josh says through clenched teeth, and his chest is flushed as he continues to fuck into you. Jake plunges his tongue back between your folds, mercilessly swirling your clit and you whine loudly, dancing on the edge between pain and pleasure. You’re so overstimulated and tears leak from your eyes, but none of them let up. You moan around Sam’s cock and he groans loudly. 

“You’re such a good whore for us, y/n. So fucking good.” You whine deep in your throat and clench your eyes shut. Between Josh’s cock and Jake’s tongue – not to mention the sounds that Sam is making, you feel like you could fucking explode. 

“So good.” Josh pants. “And all ours.” 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” Sam throws his head back and that’s all the warning you get before his release spills down your throat. You greedily swallow it all down and milk him for all he’s got. He pulls his cock from you with a pop and falls back against the headboard. 

The sound of his release sends you spiraling into a third orgasm, this one quick and sharp and without warning. You wail loudly as it crashes over you, and you clench hard around Josh. 

“Jesus, mama. Shit! So fucking tight. Gonna fucking cum. So fucking close.” His thrusts are sloppy and erratic, and it isn’t long before he reaches his own release, painting your walls with thick ropes of cum. The sound that falls from his lips is sinful, and your eyes roll back as Jake continues to eat you out. Jake is desperately rutting his dick up between your tits and you can tell he’s on the edge, but he’s not going to let himself fall off that crest without making you cum one more time. You need it so badly and your whole body feels like it’s on fucking fire. 

“Come on, y/n.” Sam encourages, voice silky smooth. “One more.”

“You can do it, pretty girl. Come on. Let us see you fall apart one more time.” Josh says between shaky breaths, pulling his soft cock from your pussy. 

You’re spewing profanities and whines and you're wailing their names as the coil in your belly somehow begins to tighten again. You have no idea what you’re saying and your vision is beginning to go black around the edges. With one last swirl of his tongue around your clit, Jake has you falling apart for the fourth time. Your eyes roll back in your head and you scream as you cum. You’re a babbling mess and the sight and sound of you makes Jake finally come apart himself. Ropes upon ropes of his cum paint your chest as he ruts his cock against your smooth skin and he moans your name loudly. 

“Fuck, y/n!” He cries as he finally comes down from his high. He slides out from under you and you collapse onto the bed, completely and utterly spent. 

Josh rises from the bed and hooks one arm beneath your knees and the other around your waist. He lifts you gently and Sam pulls the covers down to the foot of the bed. Josh lays you gingerly onto your back and wipes your hair from your face. You crack your eyes open at him. 

“Hey, mama.” He says with a sweet smile. “You okay?” 

You just hum and close your eyes again. Jake rises to grab a washcloth from the bathroom. He runs it under the warm water of the sink and brings it back over to the bed while Sam goes to grab you a glass of water. Jake cleans you up carefully, wiping the evidence of the night's activities from your skin. Josh helps you sit up and Sammy brings the glass to your lips and you take large, greedy gulps of it. When you’re finished, he places it on the nightstand. 

“You did so good for us, baby.” Jake says, voice almost a whisper. 

“So fucking good.” Josh murmurs as well, reaching down to grab his jumpsuit off the floor. He steps back into it and pulls it up, not bothering to zip it all the way. Jake does the same, pulling his pants on and grabbing his jacket and phone. 

“Get some rest.” He says. 

“Think I’m gonna sleep for a week.” You say tiredly, and the three of them laugh. “You were right, Jakey. All three of you was definitely the death of me.” 

“A valiant and noble death, m’lady.” Josh says with a dramatic bow. You giggle at his perpetual goofiness. 

“You guys have a good night.” Sam says, crawling into the bed and pulling the covers over you both. “I’ll take good care of her.” 

“You better.” Jake says and points a finger at him. “She needs some good rest.” 

“You kids be good.” Josh says, following Jake to the door to the hotel room. “I’ll have breakfast delivered to her in the morning.”

“What about me?” Sam said and you laughed at the indignation in his voice. 

“You’re a big kid, Sammy boy.” Josh laughs and Jake rolls his eyes at the both of them. “I’m sure you’ll manage.” 

The twins both give you soft, matching smiles before turning to open the door. 

“Thank you.” You tell them. 

Jake gives you a cheeky grin and a salute. 

“Any time.” And with that, he disappears out the door. 

“The pleasure was all mine, good lady.” Josh bowed once more and followed Jake, softly closing the door behind him. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam says, extending his arm to turn off the light before settling back down. 

“You kidding me?” You ask, lying your head down and practically sinking into the bed. “That was a wet dream come true.”

Tags:

@blojaysimpson

#dee's writing #josh kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka smut #sam kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet smut #josh kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfiction

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader, Sam Kiszka x f!Reader (oops)

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 13.5k+

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering: poor body image, body dysmorphia, mentions of a past eating disorder, an ill parent, (this will include descriptions of struggling to breathe due to illness & mentions of an oxygen mask) drinking, cussing, Jake is jealous? 18+ ONLY: some pretty heaving making out, (but it's not with who you think it is hehe), mentions of an erection, slight nudity, mentions of being turned on. (please let me know if i missed anything. there are a few heavy topics mentioned, & the last thing i want is for anyone to begin reading without a proper warning.)

a/n: i am so sorry this chapter took so long. i truly hope you love it & as always, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think! i love hearing from you guys. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & being my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d’Arthur Masterlist

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Your morning drives to school are your absolute favorite part of the day. They serve as your singular moment of complete peace to counteract the chaos that can be expected once the day truly gets started. The serenity of the morning air calms your spirit and prepares you for whatever the day may bring. 

You’ve managed to find an alternate route to campus, one that keeps you far away from the heavy morning traffic. It adds nearly twenty minutes to your journey, but the cost of waking a little earlier each day is worth the promise of a few spare moments of quiet solitude.

The new path you’ve found leads you straight to school, and the best part– it’s an image right out of a fairy-tale. 

Trees line the unpaved road, their leaves in early autumnal splendor. Hues of orange and red greet you in their forenoon charm, catching the rays of the waking sun as they glow in bright iridescence. 

This morning, there’s a light rain shower leaving tiny droplets on your windshield. The sun still dares to peek through the gray clouds, illuminating the glittering raindrops as they gently fall to the ground. 

You’ve yet to be met with another morning traveler since you discovered this road only days ago. It feels as though you’ve found some secret passageway— a hidden spot with no name, set aside just for you.

Pure tranquility washes over your body as your foot rests on the gas pedal. 

It’s the moments like these that remind you of the beauty that still exists around you— that no matter what downfall you suffer, the earth will always be there to offer you her tiny bits of wonder to keep your feet planted firmly against her soil.

Your Firebird putters into the university parking lot, amongst the slew of shining, new vehicles with hardly an imperfection to be seen on any of them. You used to be embarrassed of your old clunker, but as time goes on you’ve learned to be grateful for it and all the places it has taken you. 

Your new staff parking spot is awaiting you, of which you are entirely grateful. After your first day, you found that the parking lots fill up rather quickly with commuter students, so having a designated spot just for you everyday has saved you a lot of grief in the mornings. Yet another wonderful perk of being an employee of the university.

The smell of roasting espresso penetrates your senses as you waltz through the doors of the campus coffee shop. You and Natalia had agreed to meet this morning before your classes to study a bit for your course on influential women in literature.

Carmen, your favorite barista greets you as you walk up to the counter. Her sincere smile is always such a pleasant addition to your mornings.

She’s the most lovely vision; her loose curls always tied in a perfect ponytail, her bangs framing the contours of her face beautifully. Her black browline glasses sitting atop her freckled nose that push up past her eyebrows when she smiles, showcasing her sweet dimples.

You’ve made the coffee shop part of your morning routine everyday, so you’re not surprised when she knows your order without you having to say anything more than “Good morning, friend!”

“Large cold brew with oat milk and extra vanilla?” she asks, already writing it on the cup with a Sharpie. 

You smile broadly. “You’re amazing, Carmen!” You hand her a ten and a five, insisting that she keep the change. She fights you a bit but realizes she’s already lost the battle.

She hands you your drink and you thank her, telling her you’ll see her tomorrow at the same time.

You choose a table close to a window so as to have a view of the gloomy, morning sky. 

Watching the raindrops race each other to the bottom of the window seal, leaving their trail as the others merge to quickly join behind them— it gives you a sense of nostalgia that takes you back to a time when things were simply…easier. 

One thing about growing up in Oklahoma— it was always raining. And much to your mom’s discontent, you were sure to be found outside right in the middle of it. 

It probably explains why you were almost always sick as a child. Frequent head colds were the norm for you. It never stopped you, though. The rain brought forth a sense of clarity for you—feeling the cold drops hitting your face was the mental reset your mind needed, and it still is to this day.

You’d always been fascinated with weather— but specifically the rain. A poem you’d fawned over in your childhood spoke of rain carrying the ghosts of the past— a sentiment you’ve held onto dearly ever since. 

That very poem is the reason you love literature. It’s the reason you’re here, to study the thing that brings you the most comfort. 

Each time it rains, you’re flooded with lovely memories…memories of the ghosts that still linger from your youth.

This is the first rain shower you’ve experienced thus far in your new home; it feels as though the earth is trying to tell you it’ll all be just fine. She’s telling you that you do belong here, that you’re right where you need to be. 

“Daydreaming much?” Natalia pulls out the chair opposite of you, sitting her usual hazelnut latte down as she takes her seat.

“Guess you could say that,” you say through a smile. “I just adore the rain.”

You each pull out your laptops and Charlotte Brontë books, catching up on your weekends with one another.

“You’ll never believe what I agreed to on Friday,” you say.

She looks at you with a smirk splayed across her glossed lips, her rose colored cheeks still wet from having just walked through the rain. 

To your surprise, she asks, “Does it have anything to do with a little medieval film project?”

“How in the hell do you know about that?” 

“My brother,” she responds. “He’s helping Josh with it. Doing set designs, costuming— it’s quite impressive, honestly. Those costumes are some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and I’ve done theatre my entire life.” She blows air on her coffee to cool it down a bit before taking a sip, wincing from the heat as she pulls the cup away from her lips. “I knew they were searching high and low for a Guiniverre— guess I should’ve known it’d be you.” Her long, butterfly lashes flutter with a wink as she giggles.

You’re not entirely sure what to make of her last statement. You just chose to ignore it.

“He said it’ll be killing two birds with one stone— that we’ll be helping out his brother for his film class, while also having something for our project in Movack’s class.” You pause to take a deep breath, “But I am no actress. And if it’s all truly that impressive, I may prove to be a bit of a disappointment.” Your hands fall into your lap as you stare down at yourself— your body comfortably covered with your usual oversized sweater and leggings, feeling a rush of insecurities as you imagine yourself being filmed. “I’m more of a behind-the-camera type of gal, anyways.” 

You’ve fought this inner battle for as long as you can fathom— your appearance is a topic you tend to avoid. You hide behind people for photos, or offer to be the one taking them to get out of being in it altogether.

Disordered eating had been a side effect of the severe dysmorphic thoughts. But thankfully, after years of receiving help, you’re finally in a stable place in your recovery.

The thing that still lingers, though; the harsh way in which you view yourself. Specifically, your appearance. 

“You said you’ve done theatre your whole life— why aren’t you playing Guiniverre?” you ask her. “I can’t imagine they haven’t thought of you.” 

Natalia is far more fitting for this film. She carries the beauty required to take on such a role; the beauty of a lust worthy queen. Just as well, she clearly has the experience you so greatly lack. 

She scoffs as she sets down her coffee and crosses her arms. “I was not about to kiss Sam. Nope. No way. That boy is a pain in my entire ass.”

Sam?… Kissing? 

This is the first you’ve heard of any of this. 

“Wait— what?” Your reaction seems to have caught her by surprise. Her eyes become wide and her lips part as she takes in your obvious confusion. 

“Jake…didn’t tell you about that? Did he tell you anything?” She leans in closer to you, a slight look of irritation present in her honey eyes. 

“He only gave me a vague synopsis— just about the infidelity in Arthur and Guinevere's marriage.” 

You suddenly come to a harsh realization that you hadn’t even thought about until now. 

Adultery and infidelity— forbidden romance. An entire film all about said romance, of which you are a main component. Of course there will be kissing in this film, perhaps even more. 

Your stomach drops at the prospect, and you're silently cursing Jake for leaving this little tidbit out.

Of course, it isn’t entirely his fault. You should’ve guessed when he told you the focus of the film.

You’ve already agreed, and backing out now would mean you’re back to square one with a project for Movacks class. 

All you can do now— beg to be anyone but Guiniverre. 

“First off,” you question, “who on earth is Sam?”

“Sammy? He’s their baby brother. He also takes classes here— well, when he decides to show up, that is. He lives with the twins.”

You pick up your coffee, taking a large gulp to keep the caffeine running through your system. “And why do I have to kiss him again?” 

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell you,” she says, huffing a laugh under her breath. “Josh has…plans.”

You cock an eyebrow at her, having a pretty good inclination about what these plans entail. You nod your head to let her know to continue.

“There will be a few…intimate scenes, between you and Sam. He’ll be playing the knight of romance and chivalry himself, our beloved Sir Lancelot.” She follows suit in taking a few swigs of her coffee now that it's cooled down a bit. “You and Sam will really get to know each other. And from what I’ve gathered about this film, the emphasis will be on Guin and Lance’s love. Arthur will have a different love interest— I think they’ve already casted her? Anyways, I doubt you and Jake will have many, if any, scenes together. At least no saucy ones. Which I’m sure you’re glad to hear.” 

You were not prepared in the slightest for intimacy. Intimacy in front of a camera— with someone you don’t know, all for the sake of someone you hardly know. Someone who’s been a massive dick to you, no less. 

But her last statement— about not having any special scenes with Jake. She’s right, mostly. It would be incredibly uncomfortable to have any scenes like that with him…right? 

But, if you're being fully honest, a small part of you is a bit…disappointed. 

You shove that thought down fast. “Uh, yeah. I’m more than thrilled to hear that. That would be awkward as fuck.” You’re doing your best to be sure she doesn’t see right through you. 

“But seriously, y/n. Those costumes…” She smiles widely, shaking her head back and forth. “ My brother did a great job finding those. They’re going to accentuate you in all the right ways.”

That is exactly what you’re afraid of. 

With your elbows on the table, you throw your face into your open palms with such force that you nearly knock your cold brew to the floor.

“Nat, I– I don’t think I can do this.”

She lightly takes your wrist in her hand, jolting you a little so you’ll lift your face. “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s just acting, love. It’s not that serious, I promise.” Her voice is so sweet and gentle, her eyes have softened and are full of quiet concern.

“I know it’s not that serious,” Out of instinct, you pull your sleeves over your hands and take your hair out from behind your ears, hiding yourself as best as you can. “I just don’t like…this,” Your hands motion to your body covered with the security of your baggy clothes. “I’ve never liked this. I mean, just how much will these costumes… accentuate me?” The thought of baring yourself even in the slightest has your stomach tumbling with somersaults. 

“Listen— I know Josh, and he will never let you do something you’re not comfortable with,” she assures, her honest smile making an appearance. “His mind is wide open and his soul is in all the right places. If there’s something you don’t like, just tell him and he’ll fix it.”

You’re racking your brain with the thought of his twin being as wonderful as she described. How could someone who shares the same DNA profile with Jake truly be that amazing?

“And stop worrying about the costumes. I can promise you, y/n, you will look sexy as hell.”

She’s doing her best to reassure you— though it’s not totally working, you act as though it is to change the subject and get started on your studies.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You frustratedly close the lid to your laptop after having nearly failed your quiz. You had set aside plenty of time this weekend to study, but with how distracted you are right now from your conversation with Natalia this morning, all the time in the world for studying wouldn’t have mattered.

And of course, it’s Movack’s class— the one you most want to excel in, the one you share with Jake. 

He closes his laptop only seconds after you. 

It’s not a fucking race, Jake.

Movack stated at the beginning of class that once you finish your quiz, you’re free to leave. You quickly pack up your things, trying to make a hasty escape before Jake to avoid any possible conversation with him. 

You’re halfway down the hall and as you’re about to turn the corner to safety, you hear, “Hey, y/n! I need to ask you something.”

Fucking hell.

You pause for a moment, dramatically rolling your eyes before you turn around to see Jake walking towards you.

He takes his sunglasses off and places them in the breast pocket of his shirt. He makes eye contact with you, a rarity for him, before he asks “Are you free on Saturday afternoon? Around 4:30?”

…what?

That is the very last thing you’d ever expect to come from his lips. 

His gaze has yet to break as he awaits your response. His deep set amber eyes are piercing right into yours. He has an almost desperate look about him— as if he’s anxious for you to reply.

Is he…asking you out? 

Your intuition tells you there’s no way, but…why else would he be asking you this?

Suddenly, your body begins to tingle. The butterflies in your tummy begin swarming. 

You don’t know what changed— perhaps agreeing to the film? Maybe he’s finally seeing you as more than a scholarly competition, maybe he’s finally seeing you. Whatever it may be, you’re not questioning it any longer. 

You’ve decided you’re completely infatuated with him, and getting to know him even better outside of this classroom sounds…wonderful.  

“Y-yeah! I don’t have anything going on. I’m totally free!” With a full toothed grin on display and perhaps a bit too much eagerness, you follow with, “Why? What did you have in mind?”

His brows then become furrowed, his slight look of desperation transforming into one that says he’s now… confused. 

“Um… okay,” His voice sounds unsure, his inflection coming off as more of a question than a statement. “I’m only asking because my brother wants to go over a read through of some of the script on Saturday…you know, for the film project.”

Oh. My. God. 

You’re mentally smacking yourself across the forehead. You want to crawl inside the deepest fucking hole on this planet and stay there with your shame. 

What is wrong with you? It’s as though you’ve completely forgotten you have a project to do with him— that that would be the only logical reason he’d ask if you were free. Obviously.

That’s why he looked desperate. Not because he wanted you to agree to some date— because he needs your help with this stupid fucking project you regretfully agreed to.

Your face (noticeably, you're sure) drops. You’re so humiliated at your response. No wonder he looked so damned confused. 

“Sure, yeah. I can do that.” You revert back to your initial irritated tone, refusing to look him in the eye now, hoping that he’ll somehow forget you were any other way. 

“He also needs you to try on the costumes, too. Make sure they’re the right size.”

The costumes. 

This couldn’t get any fucking worse. But you can’t turn him down now, given you were so quick to tell him you’re free on Saturday. 

You simply say “okay,” as you nod your head in agreement.

He takes out his notebook, writing down his address before ripping the sheet of paper out and handing it to you.

You tuck it away in your bag, bidding him a quick adieu before turning to walk far away from him.

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes. Not out of sadness, but out of mortification. Out of irritation.

Irritation with yourself, with him. And it’s not even his fault. You’re the one that jumped to ridiculous conclusions— jumped the highest you possibly could.

You feel utterly stupid. 

So fucking stupid.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Your mom looks at you in shock as you walk inside your apartment. Ridding yourself of your bags with a swift toss to the floor, you slump down next to her on the couch.

“What are you doing home so early? I thought you had class until later this afternoon,” she probed.

“Just a little tired,” you say. “Thought I’d give myself some time to rest before work.”

“This isn’t like you, y/n. What’s wrong, sweetie?”

She’s right— this isn’t like you. You normally wouldn’t even think of skipping class, your education being the most important thing to you. But, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it today.

“Kind of a long day, I guess. And I’m a little stressed out with my classes.”

She then turns the television off and glares at you with the eyes of a worried mother.

“Talk to me, y/n. I know there’s more.” 

You should know by now that you can’t hide anything from her. She knows you too damn well.

You can’t hold it back any longer as you begin to spill it all. 

“It’s… stupid Jake. I thought he was asking me out today, but he most definitely was not. And I made an idiot out of myself because I misunderstood and—”

She stops you mid sentence, “And who is Jake?” she questions. 

You haven’t told her a single thing about him, about your project, anything. It’s not that you were trying to hide it from her, you just really didn’t want to talk about it.  

With a heavy sigh, you say, “He’s my partner for this huge semester project in my King Arthur class. We’re doing an Arthurian film with his brother,” you put a palm to your face. Looking up at her with a sarcastic smile, you add. “Oh, and Jake is a major dick.”

“Do you like him?” she asks with a smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

“Absolutely not!” you exclaim— rather loudly, at that. 

Even you don’t believe the words that came out of your mouth, so why would she?

She just chuckles at your response, knowing better than that but deciding to not ask you about it any further, switching the topic to your project. “Tell me about this film you're doing,” she says.

“You won’t believe this but, I’m actually acting in it.”

“You? Acting? Okay, who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” she jokes, forcing a smile out of you.  

“Just wait. It gets better,” you say. “I’m actually playing Guiniverre and Jake will be Arthur. It’s all about their adulterous marriage, and the focus will be on them cheating on each other. Quite romantic, huh?” 

She begins to laugh again, trying not to wear out her weak lungs, but it doesn’t work. She gets caught up in a huge coughing fit, struggling to catch her breath. 

This always happens; she can’t even laugh without her lungs giving her trouble. It shatters your heart. She’s always had the most contagious, obnoxious laugh. You miss the pure, unpunctured sound of it so much. 

You reach for her oxygen mask and gently place it over her mouth. “Just breathe, mom. It’s okay, I’m here. Just breathe for me, in and out…”

As much as it scares you whenever this happens, it scares her even more. The look in her eyes makes you want to cry. It’s a look that says “please make this stop.” 

You wish more than anything that you could.

It’s the moments like these that you want to curse your dad for leaving, for leaving his wife of almost twenty years like this.

She begins to calm down, her breathing slowing as she’s able to take full breaths again. 

“You okay?” you ask.

She moves your hand and lifts the mask from her face. “Just fine, sweetie. Sorry about that.” Her voice sounds so frail, like she’s just run a marathon. 

“Don’t apologize, Mom,” you lay a hand on your skinny thigh, squeezing reassuringly. “Please.”

She nods, then requests. “Tell me more.”

She doesn’t like to dwell on these things when they happen, so you start talking about the film and Jake some more. 

“He’s got a younger brother named Sam, who’ll be playing Lancelot. Apparently, there are a few scenes between him and I in the script that are a bit… sensual, you could say.” 

“Well, is he as cute as Jake?” she snickers.

“Mom! I never said Jake was cute.”

“Didn’t have to,” she says. “You think he is, I can tell.” Her grin says she can see right through you, and she’s not wrong. She never is. 

“I haven’t met his brother yet, so I have no idea.” 

You continue telling her more about the film, telling her about Natalia, but the conversation ends up taking a turn to being mostly (completely, actually) about Jake. 

“He’s just intimidated by you, y/n. That’s why he acts the way he does, so you don’t know his true feelings.”

You just shrug it off, knowing she’s obligated by blood to tell you that. She’s just trying to make you feel better.

“Just wait,” she says. “He’ll come around.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You look at your phone to check the time. 

3:45 am. Ugh. 

You’ve been in bed for hours desperately trying to sleep but your body just won’t relax.

You hated seeing your mom like that tonight. Watching her struggle to breathe… it's traumatizing every time it happens. And the episodes are becoming more and more frequent. 

You just want her to be healthy again. You want to be able to have a normal conversation with her without worrying about making her laugh. It’s tearing you down, watching her wither away like this. It’s not fair. 

You just wish there was more you could do. 

Along with the stress of that, you also keep hearing Jake's voice on a loop in your head; “I’m only asking because my brother wants to go over a read through some of the script on Saturday…you know, for the film project.”

“I’m only asking…”

It’s the way he said ‘only,’ as if to say ‘don’t get your hopes up, that’s not what this is.”

Him posing that question (before you knew the true intent behind it) made you realize that— as much as you wish you weren’t— you’re somehow on the cusp of having feelings for him. And your conversation with your mom made that fact even more abundantly clear. 

It’s most definitely not because of his winning personality. 

No; it’s much different than that.

He brings about an air of mystery everywhere he goes. Every step he takes adds yet another layer to your curiosity about him. 

And the way he acted when he asked you to be a part of his brother's film, how his face lit up in a whole new light. There’s a genuine man beneath his exterior— you can sense it. You just wish that were the Jake you’ve come face to face with nearly everyday since classes began a few weeks ago. That’s the side of him (if it is truly there and you’re not just making things up) that you want to discover.

He’s just… different. And you're annoyingly drawn to it. You're completely drawn to it. 

You’ve never met anyone like him— let alone anyone that looks like him. As much as you hate to admit it, he is the personification of the female gaze. And his ridiculous attire, complete with his open shirts that display his necklaces on top of his bare chest— and yes, even his sunglasses that you try (but fail) to hate— all make it incredibly difficult to not find him attractive. 

He’s beginning to consume your every thought, and you’re so mad at yourself for it. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Saturday.

You’ve spent the entire week dreading today, contemplating backing out more times than you can count. Jake has been increasingly rude to you since your encounter with him on Monday. He’s spoken one or two words to you throughout the course of the week, but that’s about it. 

Again, you're wondering why the hell you agreed to do him any favors. 

If it wasn’t for this fucking project in fucking Movack’s class…

Without the consistent convincing from Natalia, you would have backed out. No question about it.

“Just make it through Saturday, y/n,” she said. “And if you still feel this way, tell him you want to do something else for your project. He’ll have to understand.” 

You told her you’d do it, but only if she agreed to go with you. Thankfully, it didn’t take much convincing on your part and she happily accepted your terms.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You bring your fist up to knock and wait a moment; nothing. 

You feel as though you’ve given it ample time, so you knock yet again. 

Finally, the handle on the door twists and is opened by, of course, Jake. 

You embarrassingly stare a few seconds too long, not able to find words.

Unenthusiastically, he breaks the silence, “Welcome to our humble abode.”

He holds the door open as you and Natalia walk through the threshold together. Immediately upon seeing the place, you’re in a state of pure shock. 

You’re not sure what you expected of Jake's home, but a two story, industrial loft apartment— massive loft apartment— right in the heart of downtown Detroit, was most surely not the first thing on your list. Natalia told you it was nice, but you weren’t prepared for this. 

How do three college students manage to afford this? 

The ever plaguing mystery continues.

It’s like walking into a photoshoot for a prestigious interior design magazine. This place doesn’t even look real. 

Your eye is instantly caught by the decor. A tasteful mix of bohemian and modern rustic. The red brick walls lead to tall ceilings covered with exposed steel piping, adding so much unique character to the place. Trailing vines line the huge windows, casting the living room in an almost sage glow.

Jake ignores you, (shocker) as he heads into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. “Well that’s just great,” he says, taking out a can of Miller Lite and turning to face Natalia. “The least your brother could do is restock our beer when he takes the last one.” 

She just snickers in response. 

Suddenly a loud bang comes from a room up the long staircase, followed by a pair of animated giggles.

Jake turns his head slightly in the direction of the commotion, mumbling “fucking imbeciles” quietly to himself, but loud enough that you heard it.

“What the hell was that?” Natalia asks.

“Our moronic brothers,” Jake grumbles.

Then, a man with a set of wild, messy curls on top of his head jogs down the stairs, giggling while struggling to keep his footing. 

“What were you doing up there?” Jake demands. 

“Do you really want to know?” the curly haired one says, wiping his shiny lips with the sleeve of his shirt before smoothing down his disarrayed mustache. 

“Nope. Not one fucking bit,” Jake scoffs.

Jake then nods his head in your direction, letting him know that you and Natalia have arrived.

“Well hello, my dear Natalia!” he says, pulling her into a hug. 

Then, he catches your eye.

“Ah hah!” he shouts, giving you a long look. “You must be our queen! Lovely to meet you, m’lady,” He grabs your hand and kisses it before making a dramatic display of bowing before you. “If I may be so bold, the name is Josh. Sir Josh of the Frankenmuth, Michigan sector— at your service.” 

This is Josh? The other half of Jake? 

There’s no way. Sure, they have the same face. Well, besides the addition of a mustache and goatee to Joshs, but still. Clearly they’re identical, but so starkly different from one another.

You look over to Jake, noting a slight irritated look from him. Ignoring it, you meet Josh in a hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You throw a little extra emphasis on ‘so’, looking at Jake once more and picking up on his eye roll— even from behind his sunglasses. 

You’re remembering your first encounter with Jake—how it was so vastly different from right now as you’re meeting his twin for the first time.

You instantly felt welcomed with Josh, while with Jake, you felt like a major inconvenience. (And admittedly, you still do.)

How can they be so different, yet look the exact same? 

He’s even dressed like the perfect contrast of Jake.

Jake is clad in his usual monochromatic look—sunglasses, black button down and all. (How many of these fucking shirts does the man own, for godsake?) 

But Josh, on the other hand— he’s wearing a stark white sweatshirt and skin tight khaki pants, pulled together aesthetically with high top tennis shoes that mimic the brightness of his top. 

They are the personification of yin and yang standing before your very eyes.

“Would you like a drink?” Josh offers. “We have beer, wine—”

Jake interrupts him, yelling, “There’s no more beer!” as he takes a long sip out of his can.

“Okay then, no beer.” Josh chuckles. “Well we have water, of course. But that’s far too boring. I'd be happy to mix you one of my world-famous cocktails if you’d like.”

“Take it from me— if you don’t want to end up sloshed, do not let him make you a cocktail.” Another man makes his way down the stairs, stopping once he gets to Josh. He towers over him, being at least six inches taller. He’s awfully handsome, with the same kind, honey toned eyes that mimic those of your lovely friend standing beside you.

“My sweet, sweet Malachi. It’s okay to just admit that I make the most pristine drinks known to man.” Josh grabs his waist and tugs him close in an embrace.

“This would be my brother,” Natalia says.

“This is y/n?” He greets you with a hug, nearly lifting you off your feet. “It’s so great to meet you! You’re so kind to help with this.”

“I’m glad to help! I’m a huge Arthurian nerd, so this is right up my alley,” you say to him. “I just hope I can do Guinevere some justice. I’ve never really acted before.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be great!” Josh chimes, “If you’re ready, I’ve got one of your costumes set up in Jake's room. Last door, straight down at the very end of the hall.” 

Jake’s room?

“Okay! Sounds great. I’m really excited to see these. Nat told me they’re amazing,” you say, heading in the direction Josh told you his room is in. 

Josh watches you leave, holding his hands up in a makeshift camera. “Yep. You’re the perfect vision for our Guin. Very pretty,” He playfully nudges Jake with his elbow, “You were right, my brother.”

What does that mean?

Jake’s cheeks become encompassed in a pink hue as he chokes on the beer he’d just taken a sip of.

“Why thank you, Sir Joshua,” you say as you turn around towards him to curtesy.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You were nervous enough about being in his home, but his room? That is an entirely different story.

A person's room is the most personal, intimate space. The space that holds all their innermost secrets. Walking in feels like the ultimate intrusion.

Your stomach tightens as you turn the knob on his bedroom door.

Immediately, you're struck with the same scent he carries with him. 

His whole room smells like it— like him. 

You turn to shut the door behind you to have some privacy, catching a canvas portrait on the back depicting an iconic Edgar Allan Poe quote: “Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”

The room is dimly lit, with blackout curtains hanging over the windows—only a single lamp in the corner next to the bed illuminates the space. 

The walls are lined with medieval artwork. Depictions of Ophelia and The Lady of Shalott, with a few famous pieces by the great Edmund Blair Leighton that you’d recognize anywhere. And, of course, no medieval artwork collection is complete without the classic portrait of Morgan Le Fey. She’s illustrated in her quintessential colorful attire, looking as enchanting as ever. A favorite or yours.

Your curiosity is certainly piqued as you notice a few books sitting upon his bedside table. 

The Lord of the Rings series. A Tolkien fan— you’re not surprised in the least.

The Two Towers is splayed open to page 316 with the corners very gently dog eared. 

Next to the book lies an opened notebook donned with scribbled detailings of what he’d read. Little footnotes and observations, brief analyses of chapters.

A smile dares to creep across the corner of your mouth— finding it incredibly nerdy, yet all at once completely endearing that he places so much care in what he reads. 

You know next to nothing about this man, but one thing you do know— he loves literature. And you’d bet he loves it almost as much (if not slightly more) than you do. That truly says something. 

On top of the table on the opposite side of the bed sits a small record player, the record sitting under the stilled needle— Electric Ladyland by Jimi Hendrix. 

You skim a few other album titles placed on the shelf next to it, seeing the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Clapton, Janis Joplin; he’s a blues kind of guy. 

You grew up on that very same music, all thanks to your mom. She made sure you were well versed on music from a very young age. 

A dark red Gibson SG is perched on its stand right next to the table holding the record player. The scratches engraved on its body indicate heavy use— you can tell this thing is quite loved.

He’s… a guitarist? 

God. The mystery surrounding this man is never ending. There’s so much you don’t know, so much you wish you did know.  

Feeling as though you’ve explored far too much of his room, you decide to focus your attention on the garment bag laid out across the black velvet duvet across Jake’s bed.

You unzip it, your nerves exuding through your shaky hands at whatever you’ll discover inside.

You lift the dress out of the bag high above your head as the length reaches clear to the floor. 

Holy shit.

When Natalia told you these costumes were amazing, she was understating to the highest degree. 

Golden hand sewn lace embroiders the deep burgundy corset bodice. The square neckline is garnished with gold and red gems in the most intricate pattern, with the same jeweled design present on the cuffs of the long sleeves. The skirt, the same shade as the bodice, is silken and heavy and adorned with a similar gold design cascading all the way down to the hem.

Truly fit for a queen.

You can’t help but wonder where they possibly found this. It’s the most gorgeous gown you’ve ever seen— and you get to wear it. 

Undressing yourself in Jake's room feels…strange. You feel vulnerable and exposed, but the butterflies in your belly are swarming at the thought— the thought of being only in your bra and panties in Jake’s bedroom.

Taking another look at the corset, you quickly learn that a bra is simply not an option for this dress. You remove it, feeling particularly risqué now being half nude in his room.

You lay the dress on the floor and step into the skirt one foot at time, lifting it up and carefully putting your arms through the sleeves. 

You try tightening the laces of the corset, but without being able to see, it’s proving to be rather difficult. You know there’s not a chance you can get this situated yourself. 

You decide to text Natalia to come help you, but as you go to look for your phone, you remember you left it sitting on the coffee table in the living room. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. 

You open the door and marginally peak your head out, calling for her to come lend you a hand with the dress. 

“Sorry— should’ve warned you about that,” you hear Josh yell from across the apartment. 

“You rang?” Natalia jokes as she makes her way down the hallway to you. 

“This is fucking impossible to get on,” you huff, closing the door as she walks in the room. 

She chuckles as she shoves your hands out of the way to take over tying the corset. “You’ve really got yourself in quite the mess here.”

She sinches it as tight as it will go, forcing the breath out of your lungs in one final tug of the laces. 

“Jesus, Nat!”

“Oh you’re fine. God, you literature people are so dramatic.” 

“You’re one of us too, you know,” you quip back.

She secures the ribbon tightly with a bow before she says, “I think you’re in. Turn around, let's see what we’re working with.”

You run your hands down your torso and up to your chest, feeling the constriction present against your breasts as you turn your body to face her.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n. That’s what you’ve been hiding under those giant ass sweaters?” she marvels with arched eyebrows and wide unblinking eyes. 

You haven't seen yourself yet, and judging by how snug the top of this dress is hugging you, you’re not exactly sure you’re ready to.

Pointing to the mirror leaned against the wall, she tells you, “Get your ass over there, you have got to see this.”

Years of body dysmorphia have set you up to hate everything you put on if it isn’t something that hides you. Tight fitting garments are your worst nightmare. You feel safe in things that conceal your figure, and being in something that doesn’t do that is forcing you to come face to face with the thing that terrifies you the most. 

With a reluctant sigh, you slowly walk over to the large wooden oval floor mirror standing next to the matching dresser. 

The first thing you notice upon lifting your eyes to meet your reflection— your breasts. From feeling them moments ago, you knew they were on full display, but you didn’t realize they’d be this exposed. One slightly questionable movement, and it’s all over.

The sleeves sit off your shoulders, leaving them exposed with the rest of your chest. 

Your eyes trail down to your waist that is being held tightly by the corset, your figure finally being exposed. 

“O-oh god…” you quietly stammer. “I look…”

“Insanely hot.” Natalia interrupts. 

“…I look fucking ridiculous.” 

“What the hell are you talking about, y/n?” she demands.

“This isn’t flattering…not in the slightest.” You bring your arms up to fold them over your chest. You can’t hide as easily as you would like to in this get up— and the thought of being filmed in this has your stomach in a nauseous hold. 

She walks closer to you and gently brushes your arms, motioning for you to put them down— to stop hiding.“You’ve got to be kidding me, y/n. This dress was made for you.” She adjusts your right sleeve a bit, smoothing down a few wrinkles. With a tender voice, she asks, “What could you possibly not like about this?”

“I’m not you, Nat. I can’t pull this off like you could.” 

“Do not start that shit with me, girl.” She sounds more stern this time. “Just because you don’t look like me, does not mean you aren’t fucking beautiful. If I have to spend all night convincing you that you’re gorgeous, I will.” 

Natalia is the kind of person you’ve needed in your life, your whole life. She just gets you, and she always has the right thing to say at any given moment. 

Not wanting to make this moment any more about yourself than you already have, you simply say, “Thank you, Nat.” 

You reach for a hug and she pulls you in, saying “You’re welcome. Now, get yourself out there. I can’t wait to see the look on these boys’ faces.”

Just in time, a knock sounds against the bedroom door. “Uh ladies? Time is of the essence!” Josh jokingly yells from the hallway, snapping being heard through the wall. 

You’re standing completely still, fear keeping you frozen on your feet. She notices and motions for you to move. 

“You first,” you tell her.

She playfully rolls her eyes and agrees. Opening the door, she says, “Let’s go, your highness. Your kingdom awaits your arrival.” 

You follow her down the hallway, hiking the skirt of your dress up as it’s far too long for you. You're so anxious to let Jake (and the other guys— but mostly Jake) see you like this. Petrified, really.

You’re afraid of his reaction, that it won’t be what you want it to be— that he’ll act disgusted. 

But all the same, you want him to see. Maybe this will change his mind. Maybe he’ll think you look as good as Natalia says. 

You can only hope, anyways.

Natalia pulls out all the dramatic stops to introduce you. “Gentlemen, I present to you, your queen.”  

She stands to the side as you walk forward into the living room. Josh is sitting on the couch next to Malachi, both of them with large smiles across their faces at the sight of you. They each fawn over you, telling you how immaculate you look. Josh praises Malachi over and over for managing to get them the perfect gown, “The sizing is impeccable!” he tells him. Then he winks at Natalia. “Thanks for getting her sizes for us, Natty!”

You hear them, but you’re hardly paying them any attention as you’re stuck scanning the room for Jake, but to no avail. He’s nowhere to be seen. To say the very least, you’re full of disappointment. 

“Well, fuck me,” you hear a voice say, one that you’re not quite so familiar with.

You snap your head in the direction of the voice to see a man— who looks a little like Jake?— leaning up against the floor to ceiling window in the dining room. 

“Seriously, Sam?” Natalia snaps, “Where the hell are you manners?”

Sam— the Sam. The one you’ll be sharing the screen with the most.

It makes sense why he’d be chosen to play ever-romantic Lancelot. He’s a major flirt, quite fitting for the role. And— he’s fucking beautiful. Something you were not anticipating. (And something you hadn’t even thought about, with your mind being so overloaded with thoughts of Jake.)

While he doesn’t share the same similarities with Jake as Josh does, (they’re twins, so, obviously) you most definitely can’t deny the fact that they’re brothers.

Sam is a bit taller than the twins, his body shaped completely differently to accommodate his longer frame. His facial hair is quite similar to Joshs’, with his hair more the likes of Jakes'. 

“Sorry, I can’t help myself when I see a pretty girl,” Sam blurts. “You sure you’re at the right place? Seems you should be galavanting in Hollywood looking like that.” 

A heat rises to your cheeks at his compliment. You’re sure your face is nearly the color of the gown you’re in. He’s awfully bold— and you kind of like it. 

His eyes stay fixed on you as he begins walking in your direction.

“I take it you’re y/n?” he asks, taking your hand and giving your knuckles a quick peck. “I’d say Jake made a good choice for our queen.” He looks into your eyes as he gives the back of your hand yet another kiss— this one a bit more involved. 

You smile at the feeling of his mustache ticking your hand as he grins against the skin. “Thank you, Sam. I’m quite flattered,” you say, still giggling like a fucking school girl with a brand new crush.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Nat quips with a stark roll of her eyes. 

“This…THIS!” Josh shouts as he stands from the couch, trotting over to you and Sam. “The exact chemistry I was hoping for. You two just naturally have it— you exude it.” He grabs you both by the shoulders and pulls you both into a three-way embrace. “Sam, go put on your costume. We should run through a quick scene. I just have to see how this will play out.” 

Josh is so giddy about it all that he plants a wet kiss to your cheek, saying with a sincere smile, “You really do look wonderful, you know.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ 

Josh led you all down a little pathway behind their apartment building that leads to a shrine of towering beautiful, old trees. The sun just barely breaks through the colorful leaves on their full branches, illuminating the mossy ground in a soft and subtle golden glow. 

His vision for this particular scene with Lancelot and Guinevere is to take place in a forest setting, a “secret hiding place tucked away in the depths of nature's wonder,” as he put it.  

You look around in awe; it’s though you’ve walked through the pages of an old story book. An enchanted forest, right in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the busy city. You would have never guessed this was hiding here. The perfect spot for a film– more importantly, it’s the perfect spot for lovers to enjoy their inconspicuous love affair. 

“The lighting right now is unmatched,” Josh exclaims, taking note of the time so he knows when to come out when you’re ready to actually start filming. It’s just after 5:30, and with autumn nearly in full swing, it’s right at the beginning of golden hour. With the way the trees are shading the sun, it makes for the most beautiful, soft scene— almost lucent. 

It reminds you so much of the serene road you’ve found for your morning treks to school each day. You feel the same way here as you do on that secret road; this will surely be a new favorite place of yours. 

You’ve got the script in your hands, skimming through the scene Josh has highlighted for you. 

Guinevere is sending Lancelot off to a jousting match, giving him her red scarf in secret to tie around his arm as a token. He must wear it during the game for good luck, and he’s meant to return it to her once he wins. A common medieval practice amongst lovers. 

It ends with her wrapping her arms around him, enveloping him in a “deep, heated kiss to bid a farewell,” according to the script. 

Oh god.

You read ahead a little. Apparently, this will be what gives their little love affair away. Arthur will recognize the scarf around Lancelot's arm as his wife’s, and the rest will be left to history. Angsty– wonderfully so. 

“Right here,” Josh says. “This is perfect.” 

He positions you and Sam in a spot that’s right in the middle of a circle of trees. 

Sam's skin is glowing beautifully in this light, his dark eyes now several shades lighter as the sun catches them just right. 

You can’t help but stare at him. He’s just so handsome, and he looks particularly regal in his costume. A white velvet, high collar top with white pants that are hugging him in all the right places, and a deep red cape draped over his broad shoulders— the same shade as your dress. 

Is it historically accurate? Absolutely not. But it is most definitely serving its purpose of making him appealing to the eye, or making him lust worthy— which is exactly what Malachi was going for when he chose this get up. 

His cape is meant to match your dress, symbolizing their affection for one another. 

It’s brilliant, honestly. 

Josh puts his hand on your shoulder, his perfectly round eyes meeting yours while he quietly says, “If you’re not comfortable with this, please don’t be afraid to tell me or Sam. Promise me you’ll say something.”

Sam looks at you with the same eyes as Josh, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable enough with everything before you start.

You smile at them both, patting Josh's hand that’s still resting gently on you. “I promise.”

“Okay, great. You guys ready?” Josh asks. 

“I think so,” Sam says, looking down at you with heavy eyes and a sweet smile. “You ready, y/n?”

As you’d walked the path down here, Josh mentioned that Jake left to go get more beer while you were getting dressed. And… he’s still not back yet. 

A part of you doesn’t want to do this without him here. Why? You wish you knew. It just doesn't feel right for some reason.

You look around at everyone once more to see if maybe he’s shown up and you just didn’t realize it.

You see Josh, Malachi and Natalia all standing around you— but no Jake. 

Oh well…

Matching Sam's smile, you say, “Yep. I’m ready.”

Neither of you have your lines memorized just yet, so you both read directly from the script.

Sam begins the scene:

“My love. I accept this token and will wear it as I carry you with me, that with it wrapped around my arm, so as you are wrapped even tighter around my heart.”

Then you:

“With it carries the promise you will return to me, unmarked and whole. Again will you lie with me, again will you hold me as tightly as my token holds you.”

You know Sam is acting, but the way he’s looking at you as you say your line— he looks like he’s madly in love. It’s catching you off guard, making your knees weak as your voice trembles with the next line.

“Seal your promise of returning to me with your lips, my love. Kiss me and tell me it’s true that you will hold me again.”

With that, Sam drops his script to his feet. He lifts his hands to cup your face, holding it gently as his thumbs lightly sweep across your cheekbones. Your breath hitches, and you too, drop your script. 

This… this suddenly doesn't feel like acting anymore. 

He leans in slowly, his lips just beginning to brush over yours. You grip his shoulders, leaning in the rest of the way until, finally, your lips collide with his. 

A kiss so sweet and tender. Not too deep, yet a far cry from a friendly peck. 

He pulls away from you delicately, the sound of his lips breaking from yours the only one you can hear as silence lingers in the air around you.

As you look into his eyes, you notice something different, something real. Like he’s wanted to do that since he first laid eyes on you just a short while ago. 

“Wow, y/n’s got some serious acting chops after all,” you hear Natalia say, slowly clapping.

But it’s abruptly interrupted by someone speaking.

“What— what the fuck is going on?” That voice… you know that voice without even looking away from Sam. 

Jake. He’s back. 

“Bravo, bravo!” Josh shouts while clapping his hands. “God. Beautifully done, you guys. I’d like to run through it just once more. Give me a little more passion this time.”

You finally look away from Sam, seeing Jake standing next to his twin with a bewildered look upon his face. 

In his all black outfit, he really stands out amongst everyone, amongst the golden sun rays that shine down upon him.

He’s not wearing his sunglasses, and you’re once again spellbound by his eyes. Their amber tone heightened in the light.

He just looks so fucking good. 

Sam is beautiful, but he’s just not Jake. 

“Hello? Is anyone going to fill me in on this?” Jake asks again, motioning his arms toward you and Sam.

“We’re rehearsing a scene, Jake.” Josh retorts. 

“Yeah? And what scene might that be?” Jake sounds quite unhappy, much to your confusion.

Josh picks up the script at Sam's feet, holding it open to the page you’re currently working on. “This one,” he says. “The one where she gives Lancelot her token. I wrote this weeks ago, Jake. Why are you acting like you’ve never seen it?”

Jake hastily takes the script from him and reads over the scene in question. “I swear I’ve never read this before.” He continues flipping the pages, going back and finding more scenes that will be shared between you and Sam. “Why the hell do they have so many of these scenes together? When did you decide on all of this?”

“Seriously, Jake?” Josh scoffs. “These scenes have always been there—,” he growls, using his hands to help communicate the emotions in his next words. “You clearly haven't read a word of the fucking script. Guinevere and Lancelot’s affair is the main focus, with some on Arthur’s affair with the maiden. We literally talked about this. Multiple fucking times.” 

Jake gives the script back to Josh, fiercely rubbing his chin as he does so.

“Why are you so upset, Jake?” Josh asks. 

“I’m literally not, Josh.” 

“Uh, yes you are. You only rub your chin like that when you’re pissed.” 

With a flair of his nostrils, Jake says, “Just get on with your goddamn rehearsal.”

“Just ignore them. They do this shit all the time,” Sam quietly says to you. “Ready to do this again?” he asks.

With your attention back on Sam, you smile and nod your head.

You do the scene again, much the same as you had before. But this time, with the watchful eyes of Jake, you feel a bit more… inspired. 

“Kiss me and tell me it’s true that you will hold me again.”

Sam once again takes your face in his hands, leaning in close to you. 

This time, instead of grabbing his shoulders, you opt to run your fingers through his hair. 

Locking eyes with Jake, who’s standing perfectly in your view, you lift your face to crash your lips with Sam— much harder this time. 

Josh wanted more passion, and he’s getting exactly that.

You push your tongue past Sam's plush lips, eliciting a soft grumble from deep in his throat. 

His hands suddenly move from your face to your neck, his fingertips tracing the skin while leaving goosebumps in their wake. He then reaches down to your waist, pulling you tightly against his body.

This is no Guiniverre and Lancelot sharing a secret kiss in the middle of a hidden forest; this is you and Sam enjoying the hell out of each other. 

But even as your mouth is fully enveloped with Sams, even with your tongues fighting for dominance with one another— your only thought… is Jake. Fucking Jake.

You situate your face just so, where you’re again able to look Jake in the eyes. He intensely glares as he watches you in a moment of pure desire with his brother— and he doesn’t look happy.

Incidentally, it's only adding fuel to your fire as your lips continue furiously attacking Sams. 

You wrap your hands even tighter around his soft locks as his tongue is dancing with yours. 

More beautiful, hushed moans escape Sam’s mouth straight into yours as you echo them right back to him. 

He tastes like heaven mixed with a delicious honey sweet bourbon, he’s fucking delectable. 

With a little hesitancy, (especially on Sam's part) the kiss breaks as you are forced to come back up for air. 

Sam is still holding you close, so close that you can feel his enthusiasm between your bodies that’s thankfully being covered by the skirt of your dress.

“You’ve uh, got me in a bit of a predicament here,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

You look him in the eyes, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip. “I can tell. Pretty big predicament, huh.” Your new found bravery has taken even you by surprise. 

Sam just smirks at you while everyone is left stunned at your performance. 

“I… am so fucking pissed,” Josh says. 

“Why, babe?” Malachi asks him.

“Because I didn’t bring my fucking camera. You two… you two were made to do this together. I really hope you can do that again. Holy shit. Bra-fucking-vo.”

“What do you think, y/n? Think we could do that again?” Sam asks you. Although it’s clear he isn’t referring to the film. 

Looking at Jake, his jaw clenched and his fists tight, you say, “Yeah.” You tear your eyes away from Jake, looking at Josh to finish. “I think we could do that again.” 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ 

A few weeks have gone by, and most things are going very well with the production. 

Josh is a fantastic director (albeit, a little too bossy at times). Their sweet friend Daniel wound up being a great cameraman, getting shots of you that didn’t make you completely cringe at first glance. Then there was Malachi, who is consistently helpful, just like his sister. Sam, the perfect scene partner— so attentive and great at checking in with you between takes. 

And Nat, ever the loyal friend, has still been coming to rehearsals with you. She hasn’t missed a single one, and her support has meant the world to you. Each time you feel a rush of insecurity washing over you, she’s there to talk you through it and be the encouragement you need.

The only part of these rehearsals that’s getting extremely old is how much Jake inserts his “constructive creative criticism.” 

On more than one occasion, you’d shoot daggers in his direction and remind him that he’s not the director and to leave it to his brother. To which he’d respond with a scoff, palms planted, strong on his hips, and turn to leave the room in a huff. 

Then there are the arguments between the twins… which have been growing in intensity. Some days production ends because the two of them just refuse to see eye to eye, making it impossible to get through a single scene. 

You have to admit— these two are rather passionate about their work.

You just wish they’d stop arguing long enough to showcase their talents. 

The most memorable day on set as of yet was the day Jake's costume had finally arrived. 

He’d been taking far too long to get dressed in his attire, causing Josh to succumb to a near full meltdown. The sun was setting and Josh was adamant about getting at least one scene with Arthur shot outside. 

Jake, however, was extremely unhappy with the costume that was chosen for him. He refused to walk out in it, claiming it was nothing like what he had pictured for the character. “This isn’t Arthur,” he said. “This is a goddamn see-through crop top.”

And that had instantly piqued your attention. You’d walked around the corner of the hallway, Natalia leading the way. Thankfully— because she did not need to be privy to the fact that you were so curious. 

Then, you saw him. Clad in his film outfit that was a cut off chainmail top, with its short, tight sleeves putting his muscular biceps on full display. 

His pecks, (which you’ve caught yourself admiring a time or two before) looked particularly perked and rounded. 

You also loved how sheer the top was, giving you a fantastic view of his skin underneath. 

Jake clearly wasn’t happy about it, but you most definitely were. 

“Goddamn…” you whispered to yourself, watching the way his arms flexed each time he adjusted his shirt. You couldn’t help it. He just looked so fucking sexy. 

“I’m not wearing this, Josh.” Jake asserted. “Nope. This is ridiculous.”

“Yes you are, Jake. It’s only for a few scenes, then you can wear the outfit you chose.” Josh blurted. “And I told you we’d get you a black cloak to wear. Will that make you feel better?” You noted a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“Fuck no,” Jake said. “And why the hell does Sam get to have my sword for so many of his scenes?”

The argument continued on, and almost an hour later, Jake finally gave in. But, it was too late. The sun had gone down, and you were all ready to call it quits for the night. 

“Well, a fucking wasted day. Thanks an awful lot, Jake.” Josh shouted as he stomped up the stairs.

They were able to shoot that scene the very next day, and as usual, they acted as if nothing had happened. 

It’s pure whiplash with these two. One minute they’re cussing each other out, on the verge of throwing fists; the next, they’re making each other laugh so hard they’re nearly rolling on the floor. 

Outside of filming, Jake has remained stoic– ignorant to your existence. 

At school, he acts as though you don’t exist– only acknowledging you if he absolutely has to. For instance, before you can even try to get a word in before or after class, he’s already shooting up out of his seat before you have time to even think about standing up.

And similarly, at rehearsals, your conversations are limited to one or two words here and there, besides the incessant critiques he tosses around after your scenes. 

Sam, however, has given you nothing but praise after praise. His flirting hasn’t let up— and you’ve been dishing it right back any chance you get. 

You had ultimately decided if Jake wouldn't give you the time of day, you’d give it to someone who will. Who just so happens to be Sam.

Although, it lends more material for Jake’s reproval. The comments he’d make about it were aggravating at best.

“Can you show us all some fucking respect, please?”

“We’re trying to get work done.”

“Do you want us all to have failed projects because you two can’t stay fuckin’ focused?”

And, to every response, Josh shut him down, scolding him for being an asshole. 

“You’re going to chase away my muse, Jake. Please, cut the shit,” he’d roll his eyes, messing with the sides of his hair, fluffing it, cutting a glance at his twin. “I’m tired of you acting like a child. You’re the one causing us to lag with the ridiculous comments.”

The comments did distract you a little from the scenes you knew were coming up rather quickly on the filming schedule… but his remarks also added unnecessary anxiety to the overall atmosphere for you. In which case, Sam would be the one to make you feel better, bringing you right back to him.

The particular scene that’s hurtling towards you is happening later this week. You’re filming a brand new scene with Sam that will be far more intimate than anything you’ve filmed thus far. 

Josh wanted to give you time to adjust to everything and feel completely comfortable before he introduced this part of the film.

You’re still nervous about it, but your eagerness to see the film through has you ready to give it a go. 

The day before the filming of the scene, you go about things like normal. You have so much fun rehearsing with Sam; Nat and Malachi watch in awe as the scene flows flawlessly between the two of you, like it normally does. 

And today, it’s easier because Jake had been strangely absent. But, it hadn’t been better. Because no matter him being so irritating, you had sort of missed looking up at him, mid-scene with Sam. It had become oddly normal to find his eyes while meeting Sam’s lips.

After finishing a rather long rehearsal, Josh reminds you in passing that you’ll be wearing a brand new costume for tomorrow’s shoot.

And you figured today was as good a day as any to give it a peek.

Walking to Jake’s room to locate it, you sent Nat a quick text that you were heading there. She’d slipped away with Malachi to discuss costumes, but you knew if you ended up trying the costume on that you’d need her there to help (or at the very least, encourage). 

Jake’s room has become designated for your costumes, of which he has expressed ample irritation about. Just one more thing for the twins to fight about.

You’re actually starting to believe that Josh made it that way just to spite Jake. 

Once you make it there, the stark red garment bag is hanging on the closet door, awaiting you. It’s the other one that had been laid out on Jake's bed that first day you came over. 

That day had slipped away from all of you with Josh’s insistence that you and Sam re-rehearse the kiss, over and over. So, you never got the chance to try it on. 

You had hesitated looking at it since that day, though, because Nat forewarned you that this costume was much more revealing than the last, and knowing that, you haven’t really been in any hurry to try it on. 

Lifting up on your tiptoes the slightest bit, you grab the garment bag that holds the brand new, different costume that Malachi has specially picked for you.

Nat had fortunately gotten the text and had made it in time to help you remove the corset dress, carefully placing it back in its garment bag. 

Left in your black thong, lacking a bra from your prior costume, you look at the other bag, now laying on the bed. Your stomach sinks to your knees at the possibility of what’s hiding beneath the red canvas.

“Just how bad is it, Nat?” 

The anxiety you faced trying on the first dress weeks ago is now creeping its way back in. You’re scared stiff for a moment, staring down at the costume still hidden beneath the red fabric.

“You’re overthinking it, y/n,” she says. “Just open it and find out. All I can tell you is you’re going to look unreal.”

Not wanting to draw this out any longer, you start unzipping the bag, slowly revealing the black lace that was tucked away inside.

You pull on the hanger to take it out of the bag fully. 

A long black gown of intricate lace and chiffon— a lavish, luxurious piece of… lingerie. The gown exposes skin, hiding just beyond the cloth. Tight at the bust and waist, and flowing out at your hips. 

The neckline is completely open and plunges down to the waist. The mesh material decorated with an elaborate floral design— is utterly see-through. The front of the gown is held together with only a black satin ribbon tied in a bow.

“Holy shit, y/n,” she gasps, admiring every piece of your body she can see. “You look like a piece of fucking artwork. Utterly gorgeous, honey.”

“God, Nat…” You hold it up to your body, running your fingers over the long, bell sleeve. “I really don’t know about this.”

“Josh told you if you don’t like it, they’ll find you something else. But you should at least try it on, see what you think,” she says. 

You’re scared of putting it on and absolutely despising your body; you’ll be forced once again to face all of the things you don’t love about it— you won’t be able to hide in this. Not at all. 

But, you promised Josh and Malachi you’d try it. And Nat is right— they have assured you over and over again that if you’re not happy with something, they’ll fix it. No questions asked. Josh asks you every single day if you’re comfortable with everything, and he’s made it abundantly clear over the course of the production that you must tell him if there’s anything you don’t like.

Clearing your mind of any more thought, (because you’ll overthink yourself to the death if you don’t) you untie the sash, placing the gown over your body. 

As you suspected, there's nothing left to the imagination. 

The lace just barely covers your breasts, laying completely open down to your belly button— and you’ve suddenly become hyper aware of the fact that your nipples are peeking through the sheer fabric. 

“Please tell me they have pasties for me, because this,” you grumble, pointing to your chest, “is not going to work for me.”

Initially you’re talking about your nipples that you can see through the sheer fabric, but you figure there’s no use in hiding what’s on your chest from Nat. Something you would also like to be covered from eyes that you can’t fully trust yet. So, you lift your breast the slightest bit to also expose the red ink lying beneath the supple flesh.

Redrum, in dark red ink etched along the curve underneath your right breast. 

Your best kept secret is no longer hidden with the likes of this dress.

“Is that…. a tattoo?” 

You had decided on an impulse one night (after a few too many drinks) that you wanted a tattoo. It had been a hard week of treatments for your mom, while also simultaneously being the week that you found out about your acceptance to U of M. And you had figured you might as well do something for you— both to celebrate and distract yourself from the sad reality of your mother’s decline. 

No one knows about it (save for Natalia now). Not even your mom. It was gotten with the intent to be something special for you and only you. A part of your body that you could find comfort in despite your dislike for your build— something about yourself to be comfortable with.

And being the massive Stephen King and Kubrick fan that you are, you decided on a tattoo that solidifies your love for The Shining. Both the book and the film have carried through some incredibly tough times in your life, so you can’t really say you regret the permanent decision. But, you like that it’s something sacred for just you. 

“Yeah,” you say, tracing your finger along the flesh like you do nearly everyday. Just to ground yourself. “Important to me for several reasons. No one knows about it. You’re the first to know I have it actually.”

She nods in approval. “I’m honored,” she says, a sweet grin highlighting her features. “And I’m totally here for it.”

You really weren’t ready for everyone to see it yet, though. 

“Do you think there’s something that we could cover it up with?”

She is already walking to the door as you ask, ready to help however she can. 

“I’m going to check with Malachi,” she says, one foot out the door. Then she steps back inside the room, shutting the door to a crack before she whispers. “I won’t tell anyone about it. I’ll just say I wanna snoop through Josh’s Ben Nye.”

“You’re the best Nat,” you feel tears well in your eyes. 

You’ve never had a friend as wonderful as Natalia, and with every small thing she did to help, it solidifies how grateful you are for her. 

When the door closes behind her, you decide to bite the bullet and look at yourself once more.

Your thoughts begin to torment you, but you combat them with Natalia’s words. 

“You look like a piece of fucking artwork. Utterly gorgeous, honey.”

You wish so badly you could eternally shut the thoughts off long enough to see yourself the way others see you, especially in these stunning costumes that you should feel beautiful in. 

Someone as lovely as Nat— inside and out— complimenting you in the way she has, you should feel inclined to believe her; she’s not just telling you what she thinks you want to hear. She’s the most genuine person you’ve yet to meet and the last person to ever bullshit you. 

A few heavier tears have begun to form, threatening to fall at any moment as you take in your image in the mirror.

You do look beautiful.

For the first time in god knows how long, you can see your beauty reflecting back to you, effectively telling your ever intrusive thoughts to ‘fuck off’ once and for all.  And it’s not just in your body, it’s in you. The beauty within yourself that fully encompasses who you’ve grown to become as a woman.

You’ve been through some tough ass shit— had to go through things that you wish you hadn’t had to… and you’re still standing here to speak of it. That, in and of itself, is an accomplishment that shows some sort of beauty and resilience flowing from inside of you. 

It doesn’t feel right acknowledging these things. You’re not used to it. But at this moment, it feels okay. Feels good. You let yourself have it for now.

You normally wouldn’t dare be caught in something like this (let alone allow yourself to be on camera) but now, you’re actually excited. You never would have guessed you had a passion for acting, for playing a character so vastly different from who you are in real life. You’re glad to have somehow stumbled upon this whole thing; it’s helped you find the confidence in yourself that you’ve been desperately searching for your entire life. 

Moving the material covering your thighs the slightest bit, you reveal your leg, flexing it and admiring the taut flesh there. The feminine way your body is built complimenting the lean muscle that’s been built from hard work over time— working your ass off to get to where you wanted to be. Then, you poke your ass out, turning the slightest bit, you see the plush skin of your ass through the thin, dark material. You take the briefest second to appreciate the way it looks, round and full at the top of your thighs. Usually you would hate acknowledging that—hate. it.—but right now? It’s something sort of… sexy, seeing it. It’s hidden away beneath the flowing material, but wholly visible as well. 

It’s mysterious and you like it. The gown acknowledges parts of your body, without putting it on full display and it’s honestly everything you needed. It helps you to accept the curves you usually curl your lip at. 

Just then, as you stand there with your leg completely out of the slit, you hear the handle on the door turn and the door slowly creak as it’s being opened from the other side. 

Nat must’ve found the makeup for your little secret. You hold your breast in preparation to cover the ink, but don’t immediately turn around towards the door. Part of you, wanting her to see this new found confidence you’ve discovered within the confines of this gown. 

“I am so fucking glad you talked me into trying this on. I would have never if it weren’t for you— “

The sound of a throat being cleared of tension is made, interrupting you before you’re able to get the rest of your words out.

With a slight cock of your head in the direction of the door, your hair waving around your shoulders in the process, you realize… it’s not Nat standing on the threshold. 

Stunned, frozen solid in your position that exposes your leg all the way up to the round flesh of your ass peeking through, you realize that standing where Nat should be… is Jake. 

He’s as still as you, with one hand still on the doorknob and the other tightly gripping the frame on the other side. 

You half expected him to shut the door immediately upon seeing you, but he didn’t. He’s just standing there, eyes trailing your barely clothed figure. 

You should say something. You should tell him to get the fuck out and give you some privacy. But as you attempt to open your mouth to do so, nothing comes out. 

His eyes linger on your face for a time, but eventually, they start trailing from your feet, up your legs, over your hips and taut stomach. You’re hardly breathing, but your chest is still heaving short breaths… 

It becomes obvious to you that you like how his eyes feel on you. How he’s observing every inch of your body that you’re feeling brave inside for once… 

You want him to see, to see you exactly like this. 

Suddenly, your nipples harden when his dark, whiskey colored eyes (sans sunglasses, thank fucking god) find your shapely breasts outlined by the fabric just barely hiding them. The hand covering the round flesh tightens in an attempt to conceal the tattoo, but you’re longing to release the hand and show him all of you. 

But you know better. So your hand stays firm, but you let your erect nipple peek through the fingers splayed across your chest. 

You hear footsteps quickly stomping down the hall, becoming louder as they get close to Jake’s room.

“Jake! What the fuck are you doing?” Nat’s hand reaches out from nowhere, takes his arm and shoves him clear of your sight. Successfully breaking your lust ridden trance. “Give her some fucking privacy, godammit!”

And as you stood there, Nat giving Jake a piece of her mind, you can’t ignore how hot and bothered you’d become. You rub your thighs together, searching for a hint of friction from whatever had just transpired between you and Jake, longing for more of it. 

Your friend finally comes in, adamantly running her mouth about how irritated she is by Jake’s intrusion, but you don’t hear her words. 

Because you feel the complete opposite of her. In fact, you want to push her out of the room and bring Jake back to finish what had just barely begun. 

“God, he’s a fucking idiot. I’m sorry about that,” she says as she begins rubbing the stage makeup on the skin of your tattoo, you imagine briefly that her fingers are Jake’s… 

Then, feeling your nipples begin to harden from the thought, you clear your throat. Fuck. Too far.

Cover, cover, cover… 

She can’t know. 

“Damn,” you shake your head, your cheeks hot. “Why do they always keep it so cold in here?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice a shift in dynamic as she laughs.

“I know, girl,” she snorts, a curl falling in front of her eye that she blows away. The breath makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Malachi is always giving Josh shit about it.”

She finishes blending out the makeup, adding a little powder on top to set it. 

“I’d say we’ve got you pretty well covered. Take a look, tell me what you think.”

You turn back to face yourself in the mirror, and right before you’re able to look at your reflection, a picture sitting on the dresser catches your eye. 

It’s of the three brothers— Josh, Sam, and Jake… their arms around each other as they smile wide.

But you can only look at Jake’s face, his smile so beautiful and bright in the image. 

“Yeah, it looks great,” you say, eyes fixed on Jake’s handsome face, smiling back at you. “Looks really good.”

a/n: any thoughts as to why Jake is being so horrible during this film production? 🤔

buckle up, we've only just begun. ;)

if you'd like to be tagged, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. 🤍

love you all so much.

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @iffypanic @sinarainbows @klarxtr @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @livkiszka @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface  @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflame4goinghome@heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @nina-23-45 @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon

I’m fairly certain I’ve included everyone but if I’ve forgotten you, please let me know! (& i sincerely apologize)

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka fic #sam kiszka fic #jake fic #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #greta van smut #le morte d’arthur

[anthemofgvf]

Mirrors and Reflections: Sam Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

description: what better way for your boyfriend to examine all your perfect features at once, than with a mirror?

word count: 3.0k

warnings after cut...

warnings: smut (fingering), bit of fluff, praise kink, minimal plot, begging, lots of teasing, little bit of choking

a/n: my first Sam fic! it's been a long time coming, but I'm excited to put this out for all my Sam girls. :) this is a super smutty one, so strap in folks, and enjoy ;).

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You had noticed Sam's eyes on you as you examined your clothed body in the bedroom mirror. With a light smile, you flicked your gaze to his. He was leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. You had noticed he was wearing a partially open dress shirt, with pants that tightened around his thighs and loosely hung around his ankles. He was dressed up as much as you were, since you and him planned on attending a nice dinner for the night.

He was admiring you from afar, as you were wearing a tight black dress that clung to your curves. The outfit fully displayed the shape of your body, which allowed Sam to see every intricate detail that made your body the perfection it was in his eyes.

You turned your body with your head over your shoulder in the mirror and choosing to allow Sam to watch you in silence. Your eyes trailed up from your back, and down to your ass, then the backs of your legs. Once you turned the front of your body to the mirror, you looked to Sam again with light crimson cheeks and a shy smile.

Instead of saying something overly confident, you posed the question, "everything okay?" You turned your head in his direction to watch him remove himself from the frame of the door and stride over to you with a wicked grin.

"You look beautiful, really, truly, beautiful." He said to you.

His hands ran to your sides, pulling your body into him and pressing a light kiss onto your neck. He rested his chin over your shoulder, walking his eyes down your body and allowing his hands to run up your sides, and back down to your hips and squeezing them tightly. You stared at him through the mirror, noticing he was examining each part of you. From your exposed collarbones and shoulders to the tops of your breasts that were on full display from the low-cut dress. To the way your curves were outlined by the dress, hugging your figure tightly and showcasing your build. He was captivated by the sight of you in the dress, as he always was. He worshipped you and your body and adored the sight of you.

"What time are our reservations?" You breathed, watching as his lips moved slowly from your jaw and down your neck to your shoulders.

"In like, an hour." He hummed against your skin, continuing his journey with his mouth as he moved back up to your pulse point.

You pressed your lips together and released a soft, pleasurable hum, feeling the sensation of his mouth sucking gently upon your neck. Your hand raised to the side of his head, letting your fingers ravel into his hair and lightly tugging at it.

His lips pressed a light kiss onto the shell of your ear, flicking his eyes into the mirror and noticing your tentative gaze. His hands slowly made their way up to your breasts, watching as your mouth fell agape as he began to massage them.

"You are perfection, you know that? Divine," he traced one of the pads his fingers into a circular motion where your nipples were resided under your dress, "breathtaking, radiant, angelic. Do you know that?" He placed his hands onto your waist as he pressed his fingers into the skin.

Your hand fell to his smooth cheek, giving him a vigorous nod. He made you feel like you were a goddess, never letting your insecurities overtake you and capture your spirit. His words of affirmation never faltered, and he was always persistent on telling you how much he truly praised you and your essence.

He removed his hands from your waist, finding the zipper on the back of your dress and slowly unzipping it down your back. He stood only far enough to do the act, with his eyes still locked on yours and his lips just barely touching the side of your head.

"Sam," you breathed, "what about dinner?"

A smile was plastered on his lips as he suppressed a laugh, continuing to finish the job of unzipping your dress and stopping right at your tailbone where it ended.

"We have time." He gave you a light shrug and brought his hands to the straps of your dress.

They were thin, barely piercing into your shoulders as he slid his fingertips under them. He was careful to be slow, teasing you as if neither of you had seen what lied underneath your clothes. He always took his time when it came to pleasuring you. He loved the hilt your voice picked up when he was touching you, when his hands rested upon your body.

The straps of your dress fell down to your biceps, and he tugged them down even further to reveal your bare breasts. His eyes stayed lock onto your hardened nipples, pressing his lips together and swiping his tongue on his bottom lip with quirked brows. Every time his eyes landed on your bare body, it was as if it was the first time he'd seen it before. You adored that about him, and he never made you feel as though you should be worried about your appearance.

Your hands fell onto the tops of his, trying to speed up the process of getting your dress off. But he turned his hands over to stop you, giving you a faint shake of his head.

"Let me take care of you, okay? Just do as I say, y/n." He spoke close to a whisper.

A light whine bubbled in your throat, but you obliged, removing your hands from his and leaving them at your side.

As soon as the dress slipped down to your feet and pooled around your ankles, the only undergarment worn by you was a lace red thong, as you knew the night would most likely have a sexual encounter. You loved dressing up for Sam, and surprising him with different forms of lingerie that you knew he’d enjoy.

“Step out of the dress for me, yeah?” He patted your bare waist, and you quickly lifted your feet out of the dress and kicked it to the side. “That’s better.” He hummed, tucking his bottom lip under his front teeth.

His hand trailed down your arm, teasing you and watching your eyes locked on the movement of his calloused fingers. He gave into your longing gaze, pressing a kiss onto your cheek, then turning your face into him with that hand to kiss you harshly. A light, airy whimper was capsulated behind your lips as he met them, then opening it and following the fluid motion he set of his mouth.

His tongue grazed your bottom lip, invading your mouth with the muscle and allowing it to explore. You swirled your tongue around his own, feeling his hands travel to your breasts from behind you and opening your mouth with a gasp as soon as his fingers began to circle your nipples. You pulled away from his lips, looking into his eyes as his fingers squeezed gently at the hardened buds, twisting them and soothing you into pleasure.

“I love when you look at me,” he began, “but I want you to look at yourself. Watch as I pleasure you.” He nodded his head towards the bedroom mirror in front of you two, and your head whipped to it. Your eyes immediately landed onto his hands, as he began to massage your breasts and your head leaned back onto his chest with a sigh.

“Feels nice.” You spoke softly through hooded eyes. You relaxed onto him as best as you could, with delicate moans breezing out through your parted lips.

He nodded with a hum, pressing light, feathery kisses onto the crook of your neck.

One hand fell to your clothed cunt, drawing light circles around your clit. He placed light pressure upon it and watched as you writhed from the needed friction and begged with your physical movements for more.

You reached for your underwear, and he pulled away to place his hand on your unoccupied breast. You tugged them down quickly and shimmied them off, then throwing them off your ankles to the side on the bedroom floor. He released an airy laugh through his nose at the action, placing a kiss onto your temple and continuing his motions.

His movements on your breasts and nipples faltered, now having one hand placed on your lower belly, and the right hand coming to your mouth.

He pressed down onto your chin with his thumb, signaling for you to open your mouth.

“Spit.” He demanded lightly, and to which you did on his middle and ring finger, and he brought his hand down slowly to your sex.

The fingers pressed onto your clit, and you jerked your hips forward to receive any sort of friction you could. Your eyes lifted to him, as you saw a wicked smile appear on his face. He was enjoying having you wrapped around his finger by his touch alone - or, lack of touch. But his thumb on his left hand rubbed softly at your belly, with up and down strokes.

“Please,” you whispered to him, “please, Sam." Your voice hilted as you uttered his name.

He loved to hear you beg, to know that you were entranced under a spell by him. You writhed and bucked from the hard pressure upon your clit, with pleading eyes looking to him and then back to the mirror.

He began slow, circular motions on your clit, watching in the mirror as a light sigh exhaled from your mouth. He mimicked the way your mouth opened in a playful teasing act, smiling at you as you continued to moan by his movements.

His hand that rested on your stomach rose to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it and tilting your head forward by pressing into the skin to force your eyes upon yourself. He was tentative to drawing out each circle he would complete to lengthen each obscene noise that escaped your mouth.

"Look at you," he whispered, speeding his motions up and causing your moans to grow louder, "look at how beautiful you are. Every part."

You hummed with a hint of a smile, letting your mouth drop open and running a hand to his face. Your other hand ran to his side, to hold him as close to you as he already was. But you wanted to touch him and his body, to show just how good he was making you feel.

As he slowed his movements, your chest heaved from the faltering touch. You had enough time to catch your breath, yet you were prepping yourself for whatever was bound to happen next. He pulled you into his body fully, unwrapping his hand from your neck and hooking you into his body by his arm. Your ass was fully pressed into him, where you could barely feel his hardened cock from underneath his dress pants.

From the awkward yet efficient position, he was able to find your entrance, slipping his fingers in ever so slightly as to watch as your mouth drop open. Hung agape, you moaned his name, calling for him to dive deeper into your entrance, and start pumping his fingers.

Your eyes fell to his movements to see from the best of your ability the work he was putting into you. Although you could feel it, there was nothing better than to fully examine his fingers disappearing inside of you, then reappearing only for a moment to then plunge back into you.

"Fuck, Sam." You groaned as he curled his fingers inside of you. "Just like that."

He pressed another kiss onto your temple. "That feel good, y/n?"

"God, yes." Your eyes rolled back, blinking them open as to make sure you obeyed his word of keeping your eyes locked onto the mirror.

You had never experimented with a sexual act in front of a mirror before. Fully exposed, looking hopelessly mesmerized from Sam's fingers inside of you. You hadn't seen yourself like this before, and to see the way Sam's face contorted in pleasure at the way your walls sucked his fingers in was just the perfect bonus into this experience.

He was slow at first, grazing your insides with the pads of his fingers and only pushing up to the first knuckles, watching them go in and out of your entrance. He was captivated by the sight. He had enough of his own game, and your pleasured groans of his name were begging him for more. So, he dove his fingers deeper into you, passing his second knuckles and pulling out slowly, before punctuating you harshly when he pumped them inside of your walls again.

His fingers worked marvelously inside of you, quickening the pumping of his fingers, curling them so effortlessly and hitting the spot inside of you that he only seemed to be able to reach. Any noise that left your mouth only drove him to work faster, to send you to your orgasm quickly.

He was tentative to making sure you had an orgasm each time you two had sex, or him simply being between your legs, fully worshipping you and your pussy. He was drinking up the sight that unfolded in front of him, and although he would tease you for as long as the night would allow it to, prior obligations told him that he had to be quick with you.

Your eyes flicked to him. His eyes were shut slightly, eyebrows furrowed as his fingers were quick inside of you. Before he was able to look to you, your eyes moved towards yourself, moaning into the mirror and tugging at his long hair.

Sharp cries echoed through the room, and you could feel his cock throb against you as your ass began to grind down onto him. You looked at him for a moment with a flushed face, full of euphoric ecstasy and longing for your release. But, God, did his fingers feel so perfect inside of you.

Your back arched away from him, although your shoulders stayed pressed against his chest, and the coil that wrapped inside of your stomach was begging to be unraveled. You were so close, just mere minutes away from being sent over the edge and releasing onto his fingers.

There were tell-tale signs that you were about to finish: your moans grew louder, any words that you spoke were slurred, and your thighs tightened around him. He made sure to keep his grip tight on you, as to not let you pull away from him and fully be enveloped into his body as much as you could be from the position.

"Please don't stop," you whined loudly, "I'm so close, Sam." Your eyes were nearly screwed shut, with your eyebrows pulled tightly together and your mouth fully hung open. Your squinted at yourself to see how tense your body became, with the muscles of your thighs beginning to physically tighten right before your eyes.

"Watch yourself cum, y/n." He said through gritted teeth, although the demand didn't come out as angry. It was more of a plea, to watch yourself fully bare yourself to him and coat his fingers from his doing. "Just look at how beautiful you are when you cum."

It only took a few more seconds for you to be sent over the edge. Your legs trembled around his hand, and your hand that once sat at his waist grabbed at his wrist. You nearly fell forward, along with letting your head fall, but Sam moved his hand that sat in a fist on your bicep to your chin. He was forcing you to watch yourself fall apart, to see your fucked-out expression with light sweat forming on your hairline.

He guided you through it with a light smile that barely exposed his teeth. He watched intently at each jerk of your body, each muscle tightening, and listening to each choked moan that grew in your throat and eventually tumble out of your mouth.

His fingers pulled out from you, glistening in the dim light of the bedroom and raising them up into the mirror to let you examine your release. His fingers spread apart, showing just how much you coated them. Then, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror, putting his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean. You leaned your head back and tore your eyes from the mirror's view of Sam to watch as he licked them right next to you, then popping them out of his mouth and wiping his saliva on his pants.

You stared at him breathlessly, letting your fogged mind come back to reality as he stared down to you. He removed a strand of hair that stuck to your forehead, placing his hand that once was used to work you to an orgasm onto your hip. Your legs felt wobbly, with your breathing still slightly labored.

He placed a kiss onto your lips, then untangled himself from you and bent down to grab your stranded dress off the floor.

"Alright, dinner?" He said casually with a smile.

You grabbed your underwear off the floor, slipping into them and then walking over to him. "I'm sure we're late on our reservations."

"Maybe, but we can always go and see if we can still make it. If not, then we can just come back here and do whatever you please." He said with a light grin.

You threw your dress onto the bed and shrugged. Your eyes flicked to the clear imprint of his cock through his pants, then met his eyes through your lashes. "Maybe I can return the favor, and we order in instead?" You ran your hands down his chest.

"Sounds good to me." He said with a shrug, then cupped your cheeks and brought you into a deep kiss.

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taglist: @ageofhearingloss @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @tripthelightfatality @gold-mines-melting @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @joopsworld @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @haileygvf @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @beckahvanfleet @indigofallingsky @sinarainbows @sam-i-am-20 @laneygvf @malany-gvf @josh-iamyour-mama @starshine-wagner @lyndz2names @jjwasneverhere

#greta van fleet #sam kiszka #jake gvf #danny wagner #jake kiszka #danny gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sammy kiszka #sam gvf #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka smut #sam kiszka gvf #samuel kiszka gvf #sammy kiszka fic #sammy kiszka fanfic #sammy kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x you #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka oneshot #greta van smut #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut

[emsfallingsky]

Rapture

Danny x Sammy x reader

Word count: 12.6K

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, degrading, praise, impact play, slapping, language, name calling, unprotected sex, masturbation (m), oral (m & f), fingering, swearing, edging, spitting, m Dom, m sub. Please let me know if anything was missed.

Summary: After a night out at the bar, you and your boyfriend Danny increasingly start to get annoyed by his friend Sammy's bratty attitude. The two of you then decide to take matters into your own hands.

You leaned against the bar sipping your drink, watching Sam and Danny gathered around the pool table. Sam was bent over the edge of it lining up his shot while Danny stood on the opposite side holding his pool stick and taking a sip from his drink. 

Danny’s eyes flicked up at you over the rim of his glass as he took a sip. He gave you a wink and you flashed him a small smile. You turned your attention back to Sammy, watching him pull back his pool stick and sink a ball into the right pocket. 

“Yes!” Sam said, straightening himself up, pumping a fist into the air. 

“You’re still losing Sam,” you said, letting out a giggle. 

“Oh, shut it, just watch I’m about to make your boyfriend cry,” Sammy said, bending back over to line up another shot. 

You looked over at Danny and caught his eye. You gave him a small smile and rolled your eyes knowing damn straight that Danny was- is whooping Sam’s ass. 

Sam pulled back his pool stick and shot the white ball at the red one in the corner. He let out a groan and you watched as the red ball hit the corner of the opening and bounce off. 

“God damn it,” Sammy said through gritted teeth straightening himself back up. 

“Something wrong Sammy?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink. 

Sammy looked over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at you making you let out a small laugh. Your eyes flicked over to Danny’s, and you saw the corner of his mouth pull up into a smirk while waxing the top of his pool stick. 

“Show him babe,” you said with a nod of your head to Danny. Danny caught your eye and gave you a small wink, leaning himself over the table. He only had to sink three more of his balls in and he would win. 

Danny brought back the pool stick and lined up his shot. He brought the stick back and slammed it against the white ball instantly sinking his ball into the slot. You heard Sam tsk and let out a grumble of annoyance. 

You tried to wipe away the cheeky smile that was on your face, looking back from Sam to Danny, seeing him lining up his second shot. Danny did the same thing and instantly sunk his second ball leaving only one. 

You pushed yourself off of the bar and walked to the side of Danny. You stood beside him while he lined up his final shot. Just as you predicted, he pulled back the pool stick and sunk his final ball into the back pocket. 

Sammy grumbled and you placed your hand on Danny’s back and smiled at him. He wrapped his arm around you and gave you a smile. “Nice job babe,” you said, giving him a small peck. 

“You don’t have to rub it in my face, you know,” Sammy said with a scoff. 

You and Danny both stared Sammy down with a playful smirk on your faces. Sammy rolled his eyes and leaned his stick against the side of the pool table before marching off to the bar. 

The two of you watched him and then let out a small laugh. “He’s got an attitude that one,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh. 

“Tell me about it, he’s always been a sore loser. He can be quite bratty,” Danny said, rolling his eyes, picking up his drink that was sitting on the edge of the pool table and taking a sip. 

You looked at Danny and narrowed your eyes at him as a devilish smirk formed on your face. “Bratty huh?” you said, biting your lip, your eyes flickering over to Sam who was bent over the bar, ordering himself a drink. 

Danny followed your eyes to Sam and nodded before allowing his gaze to fall back on you. He frowned slightly and cocked his head to the side, trying to read you. Once he saw your smirk his eyebrows raised up. “Really?” he asked in a drawn-out voice. 

You bit your bottom lip and smiled, nodding your head. You stood on your tiptoes, so your mouth hovered just beside his ear. 

“You’re telling me you don’t wanna put him in his place?” you whispered in a sultry tone. You moved back to look at Danny and saw his pupils blow wide, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“Of course, I do. Just a-are you sure about this?” Danny asked, his tone becoming serious. 

“Of course, I’m sure,” you said, giving him a warm smile. Danny smiled back and nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Danny pulled away just as Sammy came walking back to the pool table with his drink in his hand. You gave Danny a smirk and turned your attention to Sam.

“You’ll do better next time Sammy. Don’t be such a sore loser,” you said playfully, in hopes of pushing his buttons a bit. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. I’m not a sore loser,” Sammy mumbled, taking a sip of his drink. You cocked your head to the side and eyed him, a cheeky smile spreading across your face. 

“Is that so?” you asked, moving away from Danny and walking over to Sam. Sam nodded and placed his drink down on the edge of the pool table. You walked around Sammy and eyed him, his eyes lingering on you as you did. You stepped right in front of him, so you were only about a foot apart. 

“You sure? Because you’re acting like a little brat,” you said, clicking your tongue. 

“I am not!” Sammy protested, frowning as he shook his head. 

“You sure about that?” you asked, biting your bottom lip. You watched Sammy’s eyes trail down to your lips and you watched him suck in a visible breath. 

You smirked and walked around him, your fingertips tracing over his chest. You stopped standing right behind him and hovered your face just over his shoulder. You let out a small breath onto the crook of his neck, watching goosebumps form across his skin. It was just the reaction you wanted. 

You placed your hands on the top of his shoulders and brushed the tip of your nose against his neck. You felt Sam’s body tense beneath you and watched his head to look over at Danny. 

“You know we should really get that attitude of yours in check,” you said, grazing your lips across the soft skin of his neck, never quite fully placing them fully against his skin. 

“Fuck,” Sam said, sucking in a shaky breath. 

Suddenly he slipped out from underneath your hands and turned around to face you. His face was written in confusion, looking at you and then flicking his eyes over to Danny. Danny noticed the look on Sam’s face and came up beside you, his hand rubbing against your shoulder. 

“I-I’m a bit confused,” Sammy said, raising his hand to scratch the back of his neck. 

“Confused about what?” Danny asked, placing his arm around you and raking his eyes over Sam’s figure, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

You watched as Sammy furrowed his brows and raised a hand and pointed between you and Danny. “This. I’m confused about what’s going on here,” he said. 

Danny let out a laugh and a small smile formed across your face. You placed a light hand onto Sammy’s bicep and gave it a squeeze. 

“Isn’t it obvious? We want to fuck you Sammy,” you said, biting your bottom lip. 

You watched Sammy raise his brows and look between the two of you. He licked his bottom lip and was about to say something when Danny cut him off. 

“Put you in your place mostly. I’m sick of your bratty fucking attitude,” Danny said clicking his tongue against his teeth. 

Sammy instantly frowned and shook his head. “My fucking attitude? Oh yeah sure, as if I’m the fucking problem. For all I know you’ve been trying to get me worked up.”

“But Sammy it’s just so easy,” you said, playfully hitting his arm. 

Sam glared down at you and clenched his jaw. “Fuck you.” 

“Oh trust me, you’ll get your turn,” Danny said, moving his arm off of you and stepping away to wrap it around Sam’s shoulder. 

“So what do you say? You wanna help me make my girl happy or what?” Danny asked, squeezing Sam’s shoulder. 

Sammy looked back and forth from us again and bit the inside of his cheek. “You too are sure about this?”

You took a step forward and placed your hand on Sammy’s chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

“Mhm, we’ve kind of wanted to fuck you for a while,” you say, reaching up to play with the collar of his shirt. You watch Sammy bite his lip and look down at you over the tip of his nose.

“Fuck,” Sammy hissed. You watched his eyes slowly run down your face until they landed on your lips. You smirked at him and ran your hand that was playing with his collar to the side of his neck. 

Danny stepped to the back of Sam and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Doesn’t she look so pretty Sammy?” Danny asked, whispering into Sammy’s ear. 

Sammy looked at you, his eyes scanning over your figure while pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded.

“I bet she would look even prettier with your cock in her,” Danny said, brushing his nose against Sam’s neck. You watched Sammy close his eyes while a deep groan escaped from deep within his chest. 

Danny let go of Sam’s shoulder and let out a chuckle. “Don’t think I’m gonna let you have her that easy though. I haven’t forgotten about that fucking bratty attitude of yours. You’re gonna have to work for it…might have to torture you a bit,” Danny said, now walking beside you and placing his arm over your shoulder. 

“So, what do you think Sammy boy?” You asked, running your hand down his chest, and looking up at him with your best doe eyes. 

Sammy reached over and grabbed his glass that was resting on the pool table. He brought it to his lips and threw his head back, finishing the drink in a single swallow. “Fuck it.”

You give him a warm smile while Danny tugged you and turned you towards the door. The three of you exited the bar with Sammy hot on your heels. 

Danny pulled away his arm that was draped around you to reach for the keys that were tucked in his pocket as you all approached the car. Danny smirked at you and flicked his eyes over to Sammy who was standing beside you with his hands nervously tucked into his pockets. 

“Tease him a little bit for me,” Danny whispered into your ear, opening the back door to his car. You smiled and gave Danny a wink while he motioned for Sammy to get into the back seat. You climbed in after Sam and felt a playful smack to your ass from Danny as he shut the door. 

Sam was pulling on his seatbelt when he noticed you slide in beside him. “Oh, you’re not gonna sit by Danny?” Sam asked. 

You gave him a smile, and your hand along his arm. “Why would I do that?” you ask him, batting your lashes. 

“Because he’s your boyfri-“ 

Before Sam could finish his sentence, you traced your hand back up along his arm, dancing over his shoulder with your fingertips and up his neck. You grabbed ahold of his hair, weaving your fingers through it while Sam sucked in a shuddering breath. 

You scooted yourself closer to Sam, your other hand coming to rest on the top of his thigh. You bit your lip and looked up at him to see him staring at you intently, the bottom of his lip coated in a thin glisten of saliva while he ran his tongue over it. 

You tightened your grasp on his hair and leaned in so your nose lightly brushed against his neck. You parted your mouth and exhaled a breath of air against Sam’s neck. You smirked when you heard him hiss and lean his head back against the headrest, clamping his eyes shut. “But I want to sit with you,” you said, sliding your hand up his thigh. 

You watched Sam bite his lip and then flick his eyes up as Danny climbed into the driver's seat. Danny looked back at you over his shoulder and then glanced over at Sam and smirked, seeing you start to press small kisses against his neck. 

“Play nicely, I still want a turn,” Danny said smugly while turning on the car. You nodded your head and hummed against Sam’s neck in response to Danny. Danny pulled out of the parking lot and started his way towards your shared home. 

The rest of the drive, you made it your goal to push all of Sam’s buttons to try and get a stir out of him and it worked. 

Your hands aimlessly wandered across Sam’s body, sometimes lingering in spots or quickly pulling your hand away and moving it somewhere else. You made sure to tease him just enough by having your hand rub up and down his thigh but never fully touching the place you knew that was aching. 

You had started to place small kisses along his neck and collarbone making him let out small sighs as you did. 

By the time Danny pulled into your driveway Sam was a whining and whimpering mess. You decided to give in a little and cupped the side of Sam’s face, turning it to look at you directly. 

His lids were heavy, and his chest now rose and fell quickly while he tried to catch his breath. You smiled at him and brushed your thumb over his bottom lip. Sam’s eyes danced around your face, and you felt his body still while he awaited your next move. 

You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips just as Danny put the car in park. Sam moaned into your mouth and his hand came to grip your waist while his other tangled in your hair. 

What was supposed to be a soft quick kiss from you, evolved into a deep kiss that lingered as Sammy pushed himself into you. 

The sound of Danny opening his car door was what pulled you away from Sam, making him let out a groan. You smiled at him, pulling away and looking down to see his lips red and swollen. 

“Fuck,” Sammy whispered, while he followed your gaze. You leaned further forward so the tip of your nose brushed against his. 

“Is there something wrong Sammy?” you whispered while grazing your hand across the front of his pants, feeling his hardness that was straining against his pants. 

Sam moaned your name and threw his head back against the headrest. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” Sam said swallowing, his adams apple visibly bobbing up and down in his throat.

The sound of Danny opening the back door made you turn, and you watched his eyes land on you and then flash over to Sammy. Danny chuckled and pushed the door open. 

“Awe, you’re torturing the poor boy. I need him to last…I still want a chance to play,” Danny said, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth while he looked over at Sam. 

You winked at Danny and climbed out of the car, feeling his hand brush against your back. You turned and watched Sammy climb out after you, meeting Danny’s eyes for a quick moment before diverting them elsewhere. You could see Danny’s knuckle turn white as his hand grip the side of the door, looking Sam up and down. 

Danny shut the car door and you held your hand out for him to take. He took it and three of you started to walk to your front door. 

Danny glanced down, noticing Sam readjusting himself in his pants. “Having a hard time there Sammy boy?” Danny asked, smugly. 

“Shut up,” Sam spat back. 

“You better watch that mouth of yours…it causes more harm than good,” Danny said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. Sam rolled his eyes and let out a huff. You instinctively sucked in a breath knowing that Sammy was in deep shit. 

Danny was inserting the key into the front door and glanced over his shoulder at Sam. “I’m sorry is there a fucking problem?” Danny asked, through gritted teeth. 

“Nope,” Sammy said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Excuse me?” Danny said, while grasping the knob of the door far too hard. 

“No sir,” you piped in, turning your head to look over at Sammy. 

“Atta girl. You better start learning from her,” Danny said, giving you a wink. 

“I think I can figure it out for myself Daniel,” Sam scoffed. Danny had just started opening the door and instantly stiffened. You watched his jaw clench and he quickly turned around and took a step forward, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Sam’s hair at the base of his neck. 

Sam’s head got yanked back and he let out a hiss while cursing at Danny. Danny shoved Sam into the house by his hair, making him stumble forward. 

“Ouch Daniel,” Sam hissed, raising a hand to cup Danny’s hand that had a hold on him. 

You followed them inside silently, taking off your shoes and watching the scene unfold before you. You couldn’t help but smirk, watching your boyfriend manhandle his best friend. It made your body fill with anticipation and left you feeling a pool of wetness start to form between your legs. 

“You don’t get to fucking complain. Now go wait for us in the bedroom,” Danny said, releasing his hold on Sam. 

Sam looked down and nodded, not making eye contact with Danny while he slipped off his shoes. Danny watched Sam while he walked down the small hallway and into our bedroom. Danny let out a sigh through his nose and turned around to face you. 

“You okay baby,” you said, taking a few steps forward and placing your hand on Danny’s chest. His jaw was still clenched, and you were visibly able to see his chest rise and fall with each breath. 

Danny gave you a soft smile while he peered down at you, placing his hands on your hips. “I’m fine he just gets on my nerves,” Danny said, rolling his eyes. 

“I got just the thing,” you said, giving his cheek a quick kiss and striding off into the kitchen. You grabbed a bottle of tequila that was sitting on your counter. You took the bottle and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and poured a small amount in each. 

“Ah, you know me too well,” Danny said, walking into the kitchen. You handed him a glass and grabbed yours, raising it to clink it against his. 

The two of you tilted your heads back and swallowed down the liquid, letting it in your chest. You both set your glasses down on the counter and you watched Danny wink while stepping towards you. 

His hand found his way to your hip, while the other brushed the loose strands of hair out of your face. He leaned in close to you and you felt lips ghosted over the side of your face.  

“Mmm, you’re so good to me baby,” Danny whispered, slowly bringing his lips to brush against the side of your neck. You closed your eyes and took in a breath, feeling your body shiver from the smallest touch from him. 

Danny attached his lips to your neck making you let out a small moan in response. You raised one of your hands and let it tangle in his hair while you pressed your chest against his. 

Danny chuckled and moved his lips up to kiss along your jawline before attaching his lips to yours. You both groaned and found your hands starting to roam around on each other's bodies while they pawed and grabbed at the fabric of your clothes. 

He parted his mouth, and you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip. You could instantly taste the alcohol left on him while he started to slip his tongue against yours. His hand tightened on your hip, and he started to back you up against the counter. 

Danny’s mouth never left yours as he went to grab behind your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter. He stepped between your legs and let out a groan feeling your kisses start to fall out of their rhythm and turn sloppy. 

He rolled his hips forward, pressing into you. You let out a gasp feeling his hardness press against your center. Danny chuckled and removed his mouth from yours and gave you a smirk. You bit your lip while craning your neck to look up at him through your lashes. 

Your hands started to slide down his chest and didn’t stop until you ran a hand between the two of you to palm at him through his pants. Danny let out a hiss and instinctively pushed his hip into your hand. 

“You know, I usually wouldn’t let that slide since I didn’t give you permission to touch me, but I’m too fed up to deal with it,” Danny growled into your ear. 

Danny’s mouth reattached to your neck, and you threw your head back at the feeling of him starting to lap and suck against the sensitive skin. 

“Fuck Danny,” you moaned. Danny let out a hum against your skin and you felt his hand come off your hip to pull up the fabric of your dress. 

His mouth found yours again and you shuddered feeling one of his fingers circle over your clit through your panties. One of your hands flew up to grip his biceps while the other continued to palm him through his jeans. 

Danny let out a groan in response and you felt his finger grab the edge of your panties and pull them to the side. His finger was just about to slide through your wetness when the two of you were interrupted by a voice.

“Are you two coming to the bedroom or- oh,” you heard Sammy’s voice call as he stepped into the kitchen. You removed your mouth from Danny’s and looked over at Sammy. His mouth was open, and his eyes were fixated between your legs. 

Danny let out a growl and you felt his hand tighten around your hip. “I thought I fucking told you to wait in the bedroom,” Danny said, calling over his shoulder and pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit. You shuddered and bit your lip trying to hold back a moan that was threatening to escape. 

“I-I know I just- you guys were taking so long but uh-“Sammy stuttered, his eyes never leaving from between your legs. You watched Danny turn his head; his jaw clenched as he laid eyes on Sammy. 

Danny glared at Sammy and then followed his eyes that were resting on your core. Danny smirked and turned back to look at you and cocked a brow. “You like what you see Sammy boy?” Danny said, pressing his middle finger against your clit and slowly starting to circle it. You let out a moan and threw your head back against the cupboard. 

“I-fuck- yes,” Sammy breathed out. 

“You hear that baby? Sammy likes watching me play with your pretty little cunt,” Danny said, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. You let out a moan and looked over at Sammy with heavy lidded eyes. Sam’s eyes flicked up to yours and you watched him suck in a breath.

“Fuck,” Sammy cursed out. Danny chuckled and removed his mouth and hand from you. 

“Bedroom, now,” Danny said over his shoulder to Sammy. Sammy nodded and turned to walk back into your bedroom. Danny moved your panties back over you and pushed your dress back down while he helped you hop down from the counter. He took your hand in his and started pulling you towards the bedroom. 

“Be nice Danny, I think he might be a little nervous,” you called out at him. Danny looked over his shoulder at you and rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll behave if he will,” Danny said, through gritted teeth. You rolled your eyes and followed him into the bedroom where Sammy stood in the middle of the room with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

You gave him a warm smile in hopes of trying to relax him a bit, which he returned. Danny shut the door close and turned back around, looking between the two of you. A small smirk formed on his face, and you watched him pull his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Danny took a few steps towards you and stepped around to the back of you. You sucked in a breath feeling his chest against your back. You felt the faintest touch of his fingertip as he brushed back the hair around your neck and pushed it to the side. 

You bit your lip and tilted your head to the side feeling the tip of his nose sweep against your skin. Danny’s hands came to your hips, and you felt his grip tighten around you making you clamped your eyes shut leaning into his touch.

“See how sensitive she is Sammy?” Danny said in a low raspy voice. You opened your eyes and met Sammy’s who was standing only a few feet from you. His lids were heavy with lust as he took in your figure. You watched Sam swallow and nod his head. 

“I know all of her spots,” Danny said whispering into your ear. “If I do this,” Danny stopped and pressed a light kiss right under my ear making me gasp, “she does that…any if I do this,” you felt his lips move lower down your neck, sucking on the sweet spot where your neck met your shoulder making you whimper, “she does that,” Danny said chuckling. 

You met Sam’s eyes, your own lids now becoming heavy, feeling drunk off of Danny’s touch. Danny continued to ghost his lips over your neck, and you watched Sam bite his lip and take a small step forward. 

“Uh-uh,” Danny said, noticing Sammy’s movement. “You’re not going to get it that easy. I haven’t forgotten about your shitty little attitude.”

Sam let out a huff and you watched a crease form between his brows. You could tell he was getting riled up and Danny was only making it worse for him. 

Danny stepped away and came up beside you, his fingertips trailing against your skin. He pointed over to a chair next to the bed and nodded towards Sam. “You are going to sit there and watch, and you will do nothing about it. I mean it, I don’t want to hear a fuckin complaint about it- oh and if you take your eyes off of her make sure you’re ready to pay,” Danny said sternly. 

Sammy opened his mouth like he was about to say something but decided against it. He gave a quick nod and walked over to the chair and plopped himself down in it. 

“Ah so you can listen, good boy,” Danny hummed out. You found yourself clamping your legs together hearing Danny praise his friend. 

“I see you’re liking this too,” Danny smirked as he looked down, noticing your movement. You quickly nodded your head and bit your bottom lip. Danny smiled at you and returned himself to stand behind you. 

This time he didn’t waste a second before attaching his lips fully to your neck. You let out a moan and threw your head back against his shoulder, feeling his tongue against your skin as he sucked on it, leaving small marks. His hands clung to your waist, and he moved one of his hands up and down your stomach, grabbing a fistful of the fabric of your dress. 

“Fuck Danny,” you said, reaching back to grab his head and tangle your fingers in his long, curly locks. 

You couldn’t see but Danny opened his eyes and looked over at Sam, making eye contact with him. “You like that, Sammy?” Danny asked, humming into your neck. 

You opened your eyes and looked over at Sammy while Danny continued to work on your neck, making your jaw go slack. Sammy nodded and you watched him sit back in the chair, his hand coming to palm at his growing erection. 

“I want you to watch him baby, okay? Don’t take your eyes off of him” Danny said, moving to work on the other side of your neck. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head. 

Sam’s eyes poured into yours and you found yourself starting to unravel. The combination of Danny working himself over your body and Sam’s intense stare made your core start to ache. 

Sam’s deep brown eyes stared into yours and you watched his demeanor flip. His shy self was gone as he sunk further back into the chair and threw one of his arms on the backrest. He smirked at you and opened his legs, spreading them for you while his other hand rubbed over the fabric at the front of his hands. 

“Fuck,” you moaned and pushed your hips back against Danny. Danny’s hand grabbed your hip and pushed you further back into him and you felt him roll his hips against you, his erection poking into your lower back.

“I know baby,” Danny said, reaching his hand under your dress and running his fingertips run along your inner thigh. Your knees practically buckled feeling him start to creep higher up your leg. You found yourself growing impatient and you turned your head around and pulled Danny’s head up from your neck by your hair. 

At first, he gave you a challenging look, but you quickly looked past it as you smashed your lips into his. He let out a surprised moan and grabbed both of your hips flipping you around to face him.

You cupped his face and pushed yourself into him. Your kisses were quick and sloppy, and you felt him push his tongue into your mouth making you let out a moan, while one of your hands came to tangle in his hair.

Danny’s hands were on your hips, and you felt him start to push you back by them. You walked a few steps back until you felt the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees. Danny broke his mouth away from yours and pushed you back onto the bed with a gentle shove to your chest. 

You let out a giggle and watched himself climb on top of you and reattach his mouth to your neck. You bit your lip, letting out a moan and turned your head to the side. 

Sammy was sitting in the chair only a few feet away from you. While Danny continued his assault along your neck and slowly down your body. You found yourself reaching an arm out to Sam. 

Sammy took your hand in his and started to rub gentle circles along your wrist. You let out a gasp, not tearing your eyes away from Sam’s as Danny lifted up your dress to expose your breasts and took one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Your hand clamped down on top of Sam’s, digging your nails into his skin. Sam raked his top teeth over his bottom lip and held it there, his eyes coming off of yours to watch Danny while he worked on you. 

You softly shook your hand out of Sam’s grasp and ran your fingertips over the front of his pants. You could feel his hardness, straining against his jeans. His eyes quickly looked away from Danny and went down to your hand. He inhaled a deep breath and a deep crease formed between his brows while he threw his head back against the chair, rutting his hips up into your hand. 

“Fuck…” Sammy whispered in a voice that was barely audible. Danny turned his head over at Sam and pulled your nipple out of his mouth with a pop. He let out a chuckle and sat back on his heels, grabbing the neck of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head. He tossed the shirt haphazardly across the room and placed his hands on your thighs. 

Sam’s eyes looked back over at Danny, taking in his figure. He had seen his friend shirtless many times before but not in this light. His eyes went down his arms, fully taking in just how broad his shoulders were and then tracing down his arms noticing his strong, muscular biceps. His eyes stopped landing on Danny’s hands that were clamped around your thighs. He took in a deep breath through his nose, feeling the blood rush straight to his dick, imagining the feeling of his friend's hands touching him in places that suddenly ached for him. 

“You like what you see Sammy?”” Danny asked, peering over at Sam. Sam nodded and looked Danny up and down one more time. Sam swallowed and nodded, taking in a visible breath. 

Danny chuckled and slid you up further on the bed. He bent down and started to lick in between your breasts making you arch your back into his mouth. 

He continued to work down your body, stopping occasionally to give small kisses or suck at the skin of your stomach. Your other hand that wasn’t on Sammy, came to tangle in Danny’s hair as he started to kiss your inner thighs. You let out a moan and clamped your eyes shut while your other hand palmed Sammy’s hardness. Sammy let out a hiss and moved his hand to rest on top of yours, pressing your hand further into him. 

Danny pressed a kiss to your mouth, and you bucked your hips up, trying to chase his lips. Danny gave you a smirk and swatted the inside of your thigh. “You know better,” he said, gently sinking his teeth into your thigh, making you let out a small yelp. 

“Please daddy,” you said, tightening your grip on his hair. Danny let out a groan and moved his mouth over your core and placed a gentle kiss over your clothed clit. You bit your lip and tried to stifle a moan. 

You felt Danny’s fingers hook into the side of your panties and slide them over. Your hand that was palming Sam slid up a bit and you hooked his fingers to the inside of them. “Take them off baby,” you whispered at him. 

Sam looked at you and nodded and then stiffened, turning his attention towards Danny, who started to circle a finger over your clit. You let out a moan, feeling Danny start to work over your clit, feeling your whole body start to tingle. 

Danny kissed your inner thigh and caught Sam’s eyes and gave him a quick nod. Sam took in his response and started to quickly undo his belt buckle, lifting his hips up to pull his pants down his legs. 

Sammy freed himself of his pants and threw them down next to him on the floor. He was now only in his boxers, and you could see his cock straining against them. You reached your hand back out and palmed his cock making him let out a soft whimper. 

Without warning, Danny licked a stripe through your folds, making you let out a deep groan and making you arch your back. “Fuck Danny,” you croaked. 

Danny hummed against you, wrapping his lips around your clit and slowly starting to suck. You felt your eyelids roll into the back of your head and you instinctively gripped your hand around Sammy’s cock. Sammy shuddered and cursed under his breath. 

Danny surprised you by slipping one of his fingers inside of you and slowly starting to pump into you, while continuing to circle your clit with his tongue. You croaked out a hoarse moan from the back of your throat feeling your whole body start to squirm as the familiar feeling started to build up in your lower stomach. 

You moved your hand and gripped the elastic of Sam’s underwear band and teasingly started to pull them down. “Please Sammy take them off,” you moaned out, feeling Danny’s tongue lick right against your clit. 

Sammy wasted no time sliding down his boxers, freeing his cock from the fabric and letting it slap up against his abdomen. The head of his cock was leaking with his arousal and made you impulsively clench around Danny’s finger. 

“Mmm, I think she likes what she sees Sammy,” Danny said, taking his lips away from you for a brief second, feeling clamping around him. Sam let out a hum of approval, biting his lower lip, sinking back into the chair, and spreading his legs to show off for you. 

“Stroke it for me,” you whisper to Sammy. He nodded his head, his hand coming to grasp his cock. He slowly ran his thumb over his slit, smearing his own arousal on himself. His hand moved down his shaft and back up as he moved over his head with a small flick of his wrist. A deep moan escaped him, and his jaw hung loosely while he sucked in a sharp breath. 

Sam slowly continues to stroke himself while Danny continued to lap at your clit. The combination of his tongue running over your bundles of nerves and his finger working in you had you quickly tittering over the edge. 

You let out a deep moan, throwing your hand back while both of your hands tangle in Danny’s hair, pushing his face further into you. 

You were starting to see colors dance behind your eyes, and you felt your body start to lift upward as your mind started to blur the lines of what was real and what was your own internal ecstatic escape. 

Right as you find yourself looking over the ledge, Danny stilled all his movements. A croak came from your throat and your body squirmed.

“Danny please,” you begged, lifting your head to look at him. When you looked down, you saw his deep brown eyes which were cold and stern. His attention wasn’t on you, it was on Sammy. 

You turned your head and looked over at Sammy to see him sitting there with his cock in his hand. His movements were stilled but his brows were furrowed. His stare was heavily fixated on you, becoming completely enamored with the way Danny had you unraveling at the seams. 

You looked back down at Danny and frowned, trying to read the situation. Danny clenched his jaw and let out a hiss. “I thought she told you to stroke your cock,” Danny said through gritted teeth. 

You looked over at Sammy and watched him nod, his hand slowly coming up to slide over his head. 

“Don’t you fucking do that again. If I catch you not stroking your cock again, I’m not going to be nice about it. You had to make me stop right as my pretty girl was about to cum…that’s not fair is it Sammy?” Danny said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. 

Sammy quickly shook his head and looked at you, giving you soft eyes- an apologetic look written on his face. You gave him a soft smile and nod to let him know it was okay. 

“Words Sammy. I need to know that you understand,” Danny said, swiping his thumb over your clit. Your body shuddered and your legs clamped shut. You felt Danny swat the inside of your thigh and glance quickly at you which made you force them open again. 

“Yes sir,” Sammy breathed out, running his hand down himself. Danny let out a hum of approval and you felt him curl his finger upward into you. You gasped and watched him smirk before lowering himself back down between your legs. 

Danny once again had you quickly approaching the edge after being denied your first orgasm. Your hand wound right into his hair, grasping him at the root while your hips started to buck up against his face. Danny hummed into you and grasped one of your hips into his hand. 

You felt the muscles in your stomach tighten and you lifted your head, brows furrowed and mouth hung open. You let out a strangled croak from the back of your throat and scrunched your face up, feeling your orgasm overtake you. 

A loud moan escaped you and you fell back into the pillow, your chest heaving and legs shaking as you rode out the length of your orgasm. 

From the side of you, you heard Sammy whimper, his hand quickly working over himself as he took in the site of you becoming completely undone. 

“Don’t you dare fucking cum yet,” Danny hissed at Sammy, his mouth removing from you but his fingers continuing to slowly work into you. 

Sammy let out a whimper and you looked over to see him biting his lip while an internal battle was struck before him. You watched his hand slow down and his jaw clench. 

Danny slowed his movements, allowing your body to take control while you lowered yourself back down to reality. He placed a small kiss to your clit that made you buck up against him, feeling him brush over your bundle of nerves. 

He pulled out his fingers making you let out a pathetic whimper. “So good baby,” Danny said, kissing your inner thigh. You met his eyes, your lids now heavy from your post orgasm state. He gave you a wink and you found your mouth water seeing the site of your arousal coating his lips and chin. 

Danny perched himself back up on his heels and crawled over you. His hair hung down on your face and he gave you a smile before lowering himself down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. You loaned into his mouth, tasting yourself off his lips. 

“Fuck,” you heard Sammy moan. Danny pulled away from the kiss and turned his head to look over at Sammy. 

Danny smirked and moved one of his legs over yours, so it was between his own legs. “Come here,” Danny said, to Sammy, motioning with his fingers. 

Sam got up, gently sliding your hand off his lap while he approached the bed. He glanced down at you, his pupils blown wide seeing your nakedness from a new angle. 

Danny extended a hand outward and cupped the side of Sammy’s neck. Sam quickly snapped his head around and peered up at Danny. Danny ran the bad of his thumb over Sam’s cheek and looked him up and down. “You’re being a really good boy, you know that? Listening so well” Danny said, leaning forward slightly. 

Sam quickly nodded his head while looking up at Danny with doe eyes. “Y-yes…sir,” Sam whispered. 

Danny put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I bet you’re imagining just how good she tastes huh Sammy? You wanna taste her sweet little pussy?” Danny cooed. 

Sam shuddered and you saw his cock bob up and down, his tip leaking as a bead of his arousal formed at the head of it in response. Sam swallowed and slowly nodded his head, holding Danny’s eye contact. Sam’s eyes were filled with list and his pupils had blown wide hearing the tainted thought. 

“Come taste then,” Danny said with a smirk, moving his hands from Sam’s shoulder up to cup the side of his face. Danny leaned in and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Sam. Sam let out a groan and pushed his mouth against Danny’s, lingering in the kiss to taste you off of him. 

You watched intently, your mouth hanging open at the sight of your boyfriend kissing his best friend. You felt your core start to ache yet again despite your own orgasm that washed over you only minutes ago.  

Danny pulled his mouth away from Sam’s but not before licking over Sam’s top lip with his tongue. You let out a whimper and Danny turned to you, his hands rubbing up and down Sammy’s shoulders. 

“What baby? You like watching me kiss Sammy?” Danny quipped. You nodded your head and slid one of your hands up to cup your breast. 

Danny turned back to Sam, his face still only inches apart from him. He peered down at Sammy over the bridge of his nose and ran his hand back up to his face, swiping his thumb over his bottom lip. “You hear that Sammy? She likes when I kiss you…I wonder what else she likes,” Danny said, and then attached his lips to the side of Sammy’s neck. 

Sam closed his eyes, throwing his head back to let out a moan. Sam’s hand came to the side of Danny’s hand and tangled his fingers in his long curly locks. 

You watched Danny’s hand trail down Sam, his fingertips slowly dragging down the loose hanging fabric of his shirt. His hand continued down, running along the muscles of his stomach, and then briefly stopping to play with the bottom hem of his shirt. 

Danny grabbed the end of it and slowly raised it up. Sam held his arms up as Danny took off his shirt for him. 

Danny tossed the shirt across the room and stared intently at Sam, his eyes slowly lowering to take in Sam’s naked body. His eyes went down further and then stopped, fixated on Sam’s cock. Danny bit his lip and let out a hum and brought a fingertip to Sam’s chest. 

Danny leaned in and hovered his mouth over Sammy’s ear. “So pretty,” he said, trailing his fingertip down between Sammy’s pecks, discovering the ridges and valleys of his friend's body. 

Danny continued to trail down with a light fingertip and you watched Sam’s muscles in his stomach twitch while Danny dragged over his abdomen. Sammy looked down to watch his hand, letting out a shaky breath. 

You sat on the bed completely transfixed on the scene that was folding before you. You felt your breath catch in your chest and your body froze, afraid that if you happened to move you would poke a hole in the bubble and the image would be gone. 

Danny made Sam take a step closer to the bed by tugging on his shoulder. Danny pressed his forehead against Sammy’s while the two of them watched his hand dip down even lower and graze his hand over Sammy’s erect cock. 

“Fuck,” Sammy whispered. Danny moved his hand from Sam’s shoulder to cup the side of his face while his other hand firmly grasped Sam’s cock in his hand. Sam let out a whimper feeling his best friend finally touch him on the place that was aching for him. 

You let out a small whimper and the hand that was squeezing your breast moved away to trail down between your legs, feeling your wetness pool yet again. 

Danny’s hand gripped Sammy’s base and slowly started to stroke his cock. He did it the same way Sammy was, gripping the base and then coming up and pulling over the head with a twist of his wrist. 

“Mmm, she likes it Sammy,” Danny mumbled, while slowly picking up his pace into a steady rhythm. Sam swallowed and let out a shaky hum. 

“Look at her Sammy. Look how wet she is for us,” Danny whispered. Sammy turned his head towards you, his forehead still resting against Danny’s. 

Sammy looked at you in awe, watching your hand slowly come down to your center. Danny saw you out of the corner of his eye and lifted his hand off of Sammy to swat at the inside of your leg. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” Danny spat.

You quickly shook your head and pulled your hand away. Danny clenched his jaw and flashed you a stern look but then nodded seeing your hand recoil.

You were left aching for them, desperately wanting to feel one of them brush their fingers against you. You clamped your eyes shut and whimpered. You decided that if you weren’t able to touch yourself you were going to tease them. You opened your legs and exposed yourself. Everything on full display for the two of them. 

“Fuck,” Sammy moaned, his eyes fixated on your center that was glistening with your wetness. Danny glanced your way and raked his teeth over his bottom lip. 

Without warning Danny looked down and a string of spit landed on the base of Sammy’s cock. He quickly spread it around and started to stroke Sammy at a fast pace. Sammy’s eyes tore off of yours as he whipped his head back to Danny. 

“Jesus Christ,” Sammy said, throwing his head back, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. His face contorted as he scrunched it up, his brows furrowing. 

“Does that feel good Sammy,” Danny said, placing a kiss on Sammy’s exposed neck. 

“Yes sir,” Sammy moaned. You couldn’t help it. The ache between your legs was ruthless. You quickly closed your legs, trying to find some sort of friction to help ease the throbbing between your legs. 

“Well that’s too bad,” Danny said smirking as he pulled his hand and mouth away from Sam. Sam clenched his jaw and looked at Danny, glaring at him. 

“What the fuck,” Sammy groaned.

Danny turned his head to the side, pushing his tongue against his cheek hearing Sam talk back to him. “Excuse me?” Danny said, blinking quickly. 

“I said,” Sammy moved his face close to Danny. “What the fuck.” 

Before you could even process it, Danny’s hand came up and smacked the side of Sammy’s face. Sam’s eyes grew wide, and his brows shot up in surprise. Your own eyes grew wide, and you shot up but Danny put a hand out signaling for you to stop. 

“He’s fine,” Danny said, coldly, briefly turning to look at you.  Danny whipped his head back around to look at Sammy. “And don’t you dare get me started on you,” Danny said, pointing a finger at you. 

“I saw you close your fucking legs…you fucking know better,” Danny tsked.

Danny clenched his jaw and growled, looking between the two of you. “You both were doing so well but you just had to do something stupid like the little brats you are huh?” 

You opened your mouth to say something, but Danny quickly interrupted you. “I’m sick of it. Both of you, on your knees now.” 

You nodded quickly and removed yourself from the bed, coming around to the side of the bed. Danny swung his feet around and stood up, eyeing the two of you. You knew better not to challenge him, and you quickly sunk to your knees. Sammy followed your movement and knelt beside you. 

“Be a good girl and show him,” Danny said, peering down at you. You met his eyes and nodded, taking a quick glance over at Sam who was eyeing you nervously. 

You put your hands behind your back and turned to look over at Sammy. You made a quick movement with your eyes over your shoulders to signal for him to do the same with his hands. He followed your eyes and did the same, grasping his wrists in his hand and positioning them behind his back. 

“Good, now Sammy, you are not allowed to touch or do anything to me or her until I say. Do you understand? You only move when I tell you,” Danny said sternly. 

Sammy nodded his head and you saw him bite his bottom lip, looking up at Danny with round doe eyes. You could tell he was enjoying this by the way his cock twitched in his lap. 

Danny nodded and took a step forward, positioning himself in front of your face. You could see his bulge straining against his jeans, and it took you every ounce of control not to reach out and touch him. 

Danny reached down and cupped your chin in his hand, tilting it upward. You looked up at him and bit your lip and watched his eyes travel down to your chest that was slightly exposed as the fabric of your dress hung down loosely. 

Danny bit his lip and ran his thumb over your plump bottom lip. You parted your mouth open for him, expecting him to slide his thumb in but were taken by surprise when he reached and grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your face into his crotch. 

You let out a gasp and then found your nose pressed up against the fabric of his pants. Danny tugged you back slightly and then rutted his hips into your face. You took the hint and parted your mouth, licking at him through the fabric. 

“Mmm, such a filthy girl,” Danny cooed. He glanced over at Sam and pointed a finger signaling for him to come closer. Sam moved closer and sat down next to you,, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“Touch her,” Danny commanded. Sammy nodded and looked over at you shyly as Danny loosened his grip around your hair. You could feel Sam’s hands hovering over your body, not knowing quite exactly where to start. 

“I said fucking touch her,” Danny growled, grabbing one of Sam’s hands and placing it on your breast. Sammy quickly took the hint and squeezed your tit making your whole body shudder. 

Danny reached behind you back, grabbing your arms and bringing your hands to the front. Danny placed your hands on the front of his pants signaling for you to start undoing his belt. 

Your hands shook from the adrenaline you had built up and from the way Sammy was starting to slide his hands around your body. 

Sammy shuffled behind you, his hand roaming up and down your body while he took his other hand and brushed away your hair that was covering your neck. You had just started unbuckling Danny’s belt when you let out a gasp feeling Sam attach his lips to the shell behind your ear. 

Danny chuckled and looked down at you, watching you fumble with the buckle. “Something got you distracted, pretty girl?” 

You nodded your head and looked up at him to see a genuine smile across his face. You focused your attention back down and quickly popped the button to his jeans and slid the zipper down. Wrapping your fingers around the edge, you slowly start to slide them down his legs. As you did, you could see his cock straining against his boxers. 

You brought them all the way down and helped him step out of them while Sammy continued to slowly run his hands and tongue along your body. You looked back up at Danny, waiting for him to prompt you.

Danny looked down at you and glanced at Sam who was now placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulder. You reached back and grabbed him, tangling your fingers in his hair and arching your back. 

“Does that feel good?” Sammy whispered into your ear, snaking his hand lower to run along the bottom hem of your dress. You nodded your head against his shoulder, sucking in a gasp when you felt his hands travel up the length of your thigh. 

Your body felt like it was on fire, feeling the desire and pull from the two men around you. Your senses were heightened, feeling just how needy they had become for you and your body, knowing you were what was enticing them. 

“Jesus Christ,” Danny whispered in a voice that was barely audible, finding himself in a trance watching Sam had you falling apart at the seams. “Baby, I need to feel that mouth,” he said, sliding his boxers down. 

Your eyes had fallen shut, sinking into Sam's body while his hand worked their way higher up your thigh. You opened your eyes, turning your attention to Danny. 

Danny’s chest was heaving up and down, as he took in shaky breaths trying to steady himself from the built-up desire and anticipation. His dark locks cascaded around his face and his mouth was parted, his bottom lip glistened from the faint coating of saliva. 

It was a very rare moment that you wanted to soak up. Danny hardly ever let his guard slip, especially in the bedroom but looking up at him, you could see just how fucked out he looked seeing his friends affect work wonders on your body. His eyes that were usually stern and slitted now were round and soft, begging you to touch him. 

Your eyes panned down his body, soaking up the ridges of where his muscles rose to the surface of his skin. Drifting lower, your eyes fell to his cock, heavy and dripping as a bead of his arousal formed at the tip. Your mouth watered just looking at it. 

“Can I touch you daddy?” You asked, draining your neck back up to look at him through the tops of your lashes. 

“Baby please,” Danny said, placing a gentle hand to the back of your head. His begging was just enough to send you over the edge, and you eagerly slid your hands up his thighs.

Danny’s muscles twitched and his cock bobbed up and down feeling your hands brush against his skin. You had become impatient, and you were aching from him- Sammy not helping with the ache that was growing not only between your legs but throughout your entire body. 

You leaned forward and gave a kiss to the head of his dick, still maintaining eye contact with him. Danny’s mouth was parted, and you watched him suck in a shaky breath. 

You stuck your tongue out and traced him from his base all the way up to his head, licking over the slit and tasting the saltiness of his arousal. Danny but his lip and tightened his hands around your hair. 

You then wrapped your mouth around his head and slowly started to take him into your mouth. As you reached his base, you let out a moan and your body jolted forward, feeling Sam’s fingers swipe over your clit. Danny let out a gasp himself, feeling your moan vibrate around his cock. 

You withdrew Danny from your mouth and sat back on your heels, taking Danny in one hand, starting long, lazy strokes. 

“Keep touching her, Sammy, she likes it,” Danny said, looking at Sammy and smirking. Sammy let out a hum and placed a kiss on your neck. You could feel his hardness brushing up against the small of your back. 

Your brows became knitted, feeling Sammy work over your bundle of nerves. Your hand started to lazily stroke Danny’s cock, not being able to fully concentrate on any movement or rhythm in particular as you found yourself starting to unravel. 

Danny bit his lip, and you felt his hand on the back of your head slowly push you back towards him. You took him again in your mouth, trying your best to bob up and down in a steady rhythm while simultaneously stroking him with your hand. 

Sammy continued to pepper kisses along your skin and rub your clit in small circles. You found yourself slowly climbing to the edge as you felt the spring-like sensation start to coil in the pit of your stomach. 

“You look so pretty with his dick in your mouth,” Sammy whispered into your ear. That was all you needed before you found yourself tipping over the edge. 

Danny grabbed your head with both of his hands and pushed you all the way down onto him as your body shook and squirmed under Sammy’s hand. Sam held you in place, wrapping his arms around your waist as you jerked forward. 

Tears had sprung to your eyes as you were forced to take all of Danny’s length into the back of your throat. “Just like that, fuck baby,” Danny said, holding your head still, while your throat wrapped around him. 

He pulled your head away and you let out a gasp, sucking in a sharp breath that your lungs begged you to take. 

You leaned forward, your head resting against Danny’s thigh while you tried your best to steady yourself and recover from your second orgasm that washed into you. 

Sammy’s finger had stilled, but still rested over your core. Danny’s hand came down to stroke your hair while you sucked in shaky breaths. 

“Such a good girl- she’s a good girl isn’t she Sammy?” you heard Danny’s voice pipe up. 

“A very good girl,” Sammy said, humming into your neck. 

The two of them gave you a couple minutes to recover, both of them tracing loving hands against you and showering you in praise. 

Danny bent down and lifted you to your feet by grasping you under your arms. You fell forward into him, your legs shaky and weak from the effects of your orgasm. 

“I got you baby, come here,” Danny said, pulling you close into him. You felt Sammy stand up behind you, his erection lightly brushing over your ass while his hands slid down your back. 

Danny released you from the embrace but not before giving you a small peck to your lips. He held your face and smiled, swiping his thumb across the top of your cheek. His hand went lower and grabbed the bottom of your dress, slowly lifting it off of you. 

He dropped the black fabric to the floor and stood in front of you, his eyes traveling down your body taking you in. 

Sammy’s hands wandered up the sides of your body as he cupped both of your breasts in his hand. You closed your eyes and let out a moan, feeling him pinch your nipples. 

“Fuck baby, get on the bed. Let us take care of you.” Danny said, nodding his head behind you over at Sammy. 

You climbed onto the bed and flipped yourself around, lowering your back to the bed. Danny came around the side and plopped himself down next to you. Sammy stood by the edge of the bed, his eyes darting between the two of you, waiting to be told what to do next. 

“Now’s your chance Sammy,” Danny said, running the tips of his fingers up and down your body, making you shiver. “Come fuck my pretty girl. Need you to make her feel nice and good for me. Can you do that?”

Sammy quickly nodded and climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he sat back on his heels. 

Your eyes met his and you gave him a soft smile. You reached a hand out and placed it on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath you. You slowly slid your hand down him until it rested just above his cock. “Please Sammy, I need you,” you begged. 

Sammy let out a hum and bit his lip, his eyes wandering down to between your legs. He put his hands down on the top of your thighs and gave them a squeeze. You let out a whimper and opened your legs wider for him. 

“Fuck,” you heard him whispered, looking down to see your wet core, drenched in your own arousal. 

Danny’s hands circled across your breasts and stomach while he placed wet kisses to your neck, sucking at the skin there and leaving deep purple and red bruises. 

Danny’s hand traveled lower until you felt his fingers brush up against your clit. You shuddered and let out a moan feeling him run over your overly sensitive bundle of nerves. His finger swiped through your folds, and you let out a groan, clamping your eyes shut. 

“She’s so wet for you Sammy,” Danny cooed, placing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. 

Sammy let out a groan and took one of his hands away from your thigh to grasp his cock. He looked down at you, slowly pumping his hand over himself. 

“Please,” you wined, bucking your hips up. 

“Fuck y/n,” Sammy said while shuffling closer between your legs. Danny pulled his hand away and brought it to your face, turning your head and embracing you in a long kiss. 

You moaned into his mouth, feeling Sammy’s finger slide over your entrance. You heard the sound of Sammy spitting into his hand and rubbing it over the head of his cock. 

Danny’s tongue slipped into your mouth, and you grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling him closer. You could feel one of Sam’s hands come down beside your hip as he hovered himself over you. 

A deep groan came from your chest feeling him brush his head against your clit. You lifted your hips up, rolling them so they caught his tip as you chased the feeling of his against you. 

Sam grabbed your hip and pushed you back down towards the mattress. He slid his cock over you a couple more times teasingly before he lowered himself down and slowly pushed into you. 

A gasp slipped from your mouth while you slowly stretched around him. Danny let go of the side of your head, letting you turn your head back to watch Sam. 

Sam let out a whimper feeling your walls wrap around him. He stilled his movements when he fully sunk into you. “Jesus Christ, y/n,” he moaned, clenching his jaw. 

Danny slid his arm under you, cradling your head against him. Sammy pulled himself almost all the way out before sinking back into you. The air was knocked out of you, feeling him thrust into you deeply. 

“Does he feel good, baby?” Danny cooed into your ear. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a whimper and nodded your head against him. 

Sammy grabbed both of your hips and slowly started to build a steady rhythm. He rolled his hips upward each time, catching the spot deep inside of you that made your whole-body melt. 

His eyes were fixated on your center while he watched himself fuck into you, but then raised them to catch your eye. 

You stared back at him, your jaw slack, and eyes heavy feeling the full effect of him burying himself in you. 

He lowered himself down to his forearms, the ends of his hair ticking your chest and sides of your face. Danny watched intensely, his eyes dancing between you, Sammy and between your legs. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hand come to grasp his own cock, slowly pumping himself. 

Sammy’s lips attached to the side of your neck while he let out a particularly hard thrust into you. You gasped and arched your back, feeling your body jolt. 

“Do it again Sammy, just like that,” Danny said through clenched teeth. His eyes were fixated on you, watching you completely lose yourself and fall apart. 

Sammy’s grip on your hips became tighter and as he let out another brutal thrust, pulled your hips down onto him. 

A sound that was unfamiliar to you ripped through your chest and had you shoot yourself up, balancing back on your hands. 

Sammy quickly backed himself up as you almost collided into him. A small smirk formed on his face, and he placed a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

“Mmm, you like that…right?” Sammy said, lowering his head down to catch your eyes. You swallowed thickly and quickly nodded your head. 

“Good,” Sammy said and then let out another deep thrust. Your hands flew up, grasping his biceps while a deep crease formed between your brows. 

You felt Danny’s hand against your chest, pushing you back down onto the bed. His hand wrapped around your throat, and you turned your head towards him. 

“Don’t be a brat, take it,” Danny growled. “Sammy fuck her, don’t hold back she’s not going to break.”

You turned your head back to Sammy and watched him glare at Danny, clenching his jaw tight. Danny shot up and grabbed Sammy’s face, pinching the hollows of his cheeks between his thumb and index finger. 

“Don’t you fucking look at me like that, you should be thanking me for letting me even allow you to touch her,” Danny growled. 

“Yes sir,” Sammy said coldly, holding Danny’s eye. You could sense the tension between them, and you felt yourself clench around Sammy. 

“God fucking damn it,” Sammy said, whipping his head to look down between your legs. That was all he needed before he started to fuck into you fast and deep. 

Loud moans escaped your chest, as Sammy continued a ruthless pace, brushing up against that sweet spot deep within you. 

Danny shuffled over to you on his knees and grabbed the back of your hair with his hand. “Suck it, you filthy girl,” Danny said, grasping the base of his cock and bringing it to your lips. 

You took Danny into your mouth, fully sinking down on him until your nose was pushed up against his lower stomach. 

“Fuck baby,” Danny moaned, throwing his head back. 

Sammy continued his ruthless pace, whimpers, moans, and curses mixed with your name falling from his mouth. You had a hard time trying to focus your attention on Danny as Sam continued his brutal pace. 

A moan escaped your throat, vibrating against Danny’s cock. “Shit,” Danny groaned, thrusting himself into your mouth.

Tears sprung to your eyes while you gagged feeling his tip brush against the back of your throat. Danny pulled you off of him, a string of saliva leaving your lips. 

“Fuck baby,” Danny said, leaning down to place a sloppy, wet kiss to your lips. You both groaned into each other’s mouth, tasting each other off your lips. 

Danny pulled away and looked over at Sammy, who was still thrusting deeply into you. Danny glanced at you for a quick second and smirked. 

He leaned down and placed one hand on your stomach and pushed down. A deep moan escaped your chest, and you bit your lip hard, instantly tasting metallic as your top teeth punctured your lip.

“Yeah? Can you feel him all the way up in you? Deep inside your pretty little cunt?” Danny hummed. 

You nodded your head feeling yourself becoming disheveled. 

“Words baby. Tell him. Tell him how good he’s making you feel,” Danny cooed. 

“Y-you feel so…so good Sammy-fuck,” you stuttered out. 

“I know baby, I know,” Sammy said in a low voice. Danny brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth, wetting the pads of them and then slowly bringing them down to your center. 

A gasp escaped you, feeling him rub small circles against your clit. The combination of Sammy hitting your g-spot and Danny running his fingers over your clit had you once again approaching your peak of ecstasy. 

Danny removed his hand that was on your stomach and grabbed ahold of his cock. “Mouth now.”

You nodded and sat up a bit, taking him once again into your mouth. He started circling quicker against your clit and the three of you all were moaning each other's names, feeling the affects you all had on each other. 

A squeaky sound left your throat, and you clamped down hard around Sammy. Danny looked down and sucked in a hiss. “You gonna cum pretty girl?” 

You nodded, his cock still in your mouth as you looked up at him. “Cum for us.” 

His words were enough to send you stumbling over. Danny’s hand pushed you down on his cock while you shook around Sammy.

Sammy let out a deep groan and fell forward, onto his elbows. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sammy said, spilling his own release into you. You wrapped your hand around Sammy, tangling your hand into his locks that were damp with sweat as he groaned into the crook of your neck, his whole body trembling as he rode out the extent of his own pleasure. 

It was only a few seconds later you felt Danny shooting into the back of your throat letting out a deep groan and throwing his head back. You 

“Fuck me,” Danny said, stilling himself and slowly pulling out of your mouth. You swallowed him down and looked up at him, giving him a smile. 

You turned your head over to Sammy, your nose brushing against the side of his head. “You okay, Sammy,” you said in a soft voice. 

Sammy nodded his head against you and leaned himself back up on his hands. He looked down at you and you too gave him a smile. “That-that felt so fucking good,” Sammy said letting out a breathy laugh. 

You chuckled and placed a kiss on his cheek. Sam sat up onto his heels and looked down, his cock still buried deep inside of you. He clenched his jaw and he slowly withdrew himself from you. 

You could feel his release spill out of you and drip down your thighs as he did. Danny looked down watching him and let out a groan. “Made a little mess there didn’t you Sammy?” Sammy chuckled and nodded. 

“Good,” Danny said, and shuffled himself down next to your hip. “Let me taste it.” 

Sammy looked at him, his mouth hung open hearing Danny’s words. He blinked a couple times and shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around it. 

“Not you silly, I wanna taste my sweet girl,” Danny chuckled. Sammy let out a breath he was holding and nodded, moving himself out between your legs and coming to the side of you. 

Danny moved himself between your legs and gave you a smirk. You knew what he was up to but you still found yourself being astonished by what he was suggesting. 

He slowly lowered his mouth to your center, holding your eyes. You felt the flat of his tongue lick from your entrance and up to your clit, making you shutter. 

“Fuck,” Danny moaned. “You both taste so fucking good together. Sammy, come taste.” Danny said, sitting back on his heels. His hand came between your legs, and you felt him push a finger into you making you let out a moan. 

Danny chuckled and withdrew his finger bringing it up to Sammy’s mouth. The two of them maintained eye contact as Danny, rubbing his middle finger against Sam’s bottom lip. 

Your eyes grew wide, watching the two of them. Sam parted his mouth and Danny slipped his finger inside. Sammy let out a groan, wrapping his lips around Danny’s fingers tasting the two of you. Sammy pulled back, letting Danny’s finger out of his mouth with a pop. 

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” Danny quipped. Sam nodded his head and cursed. Danny chuckled and looked over at you, seeing the expression on your face. 

“Don’t know why you look so surprised baby,” Danny said, coming to lay down next to you. 

“I-I just…I don’t even know,” you said, bringing your hands to your face giggling. You felt Sammy, lay down on the other side of you, letting out his own small giggle.  

“You had fun, didn’t you?” Danny asked, brushing away the hair that clung to the side of your face. You pulled your hands away from your face and nodded. 

Danny looked over at Sam and grinned. “I think you should be a brat more often,” Danny said, with a chuckle. 

Sammy folded his hands behind his head and turned to Danny. “I think I just might.” 

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[tearsofcaravel]

Connection: Part 1

Sammy x (F) Reader

A smidge of Danny x (F) Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: 18+, (F) oral, (F)&(M) masturbation, unprotected sex, squirting, choking

Summary: Enemies to lovers, Sam used to be your best friend, now your sworn enemy

Part 2

“You cannot be serious Daniel,” you huffed out.

Today had been such a great day. It was fall, your favorite season. The crisp yellow and red leaves covered the ground. The cool air wrapped around your body like a blanket. The sweet smell of spiced pumpkin swirled through your apartment. You were perfectly content and nothing could ruin your mood. That was until you came home.

“Daniel..You only call me that when you’re actually angry with me,” Danny laughed at you.

That’s because you were actually angry with Danny, you were furious. Danny’s best friend had been dumped, or rather kicked out. He shared an apartment with his girlfriend who’s name no one had bothered to remember. It was no surprise that no one liked her, he always had a terrible choice in women. He never stuck with them more than a few months, so there was no sense in getting close to any of them even if you wanted to, which you didn’t.

You had no idea how your sweet Danny could be friends with someone like Sam. Samuel Kiszka. Just thinking about him made you sick to your stomach. You hated being around him socially, you only put up with him for Danny. But you would not allow him to be a guest in your home, absolutely not. You would not stand for this. 

Of course Danny would open your home up for Sam. You and Danny had gotten a place together about a year ago. You and Danny were long time friends, anywhere that Danny was Sam was sure to follow. A few years ago you actually considered Sam a close friend of yours, a best friend even. He was sweet and charming. You weren’t blind, he was attractive to say the least. You might have even had something of a crush on him, possibly more than a crush. Somewhere along the lines though, you and Sam grew apart, and by grew apart you meant more like mortal enemies. 

It was around the time that you and Danny decided to move in together. Everything changed after that. At first he just started to be distant in small ways. He didn’t want to hang out as much. He stopped hugging you or holding a conversation with you. Then it became like he did everything in his power to be as far away from you as possible. You had no idea what you had done, anytime that you attempted to get some kind of explanation out of him he did all that he could to get out of the conversation. After a while you gave up on trying to figure out what went wrong. The feelings he had for you became mutual. Ever since then he was your enemy and that was that. It was like you had no history, like you hadn’t been best friends a year ago. 

“Come on Y/n, it won’t even be for that long,” Danny gave you his best doe eyes.

 

“You didn’t even ask me,” you rolled your eyes. You knew Danny would win this. Despite your hate for Sam, you had a weakness for Danny, and he was well aware of this. 

“Because I knew what you would say, you won’t even notice that he’s here.”

“I won’t notice he’s even here? You must be joking. We can hardly stand in the same room together. I give us one night before we kill each other,” you laughed out at him even though you were more than serious.

“Well, he’ll be here any minute so I guess I’ll go hide the knives,” Danny said half jokingly while making his way around the house to check for anything that could be used as a weapon. 

Just as you were hoping that Sam would find literally anywhere else to stay, the door to your apartment swung open. You could feel your blood begin to boil. You watched as he waltzed right in like he owned the place. He shot you a shit eating grin, but didn’t even grant you a simple “hello”. He plopped right down onto your couch.

 “Make yourself at home why don’t you?” you said not even looking in his direction. You were thinking maybe since you were doing him a favor he would treat you with some decency, possibly even thank you for allowing him to stay. Of course you were wrong. He knew you didn’t want him here.

He ignored your presence and started talking with Danny. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night, so you made your way to your room. “Goodnight Danny!” You made sure to only direct your attention to him. “Goodnight Y/n,” Danny called back to you, giving you a light smile.

“What, no goodnight for me, actually not even a hello, maybe a welcome? You wound me Y/n.” Sam dramatically called out. 

“Why welcome you when you’re not really welcome here?” You ignored him and went to bed for the night, sleeping peacefully knowing that Sam was a bit bothered by how well you ignored him. 

You woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked. Danny was the chef of the house. You couldn’t make a meal to save your life, so thank goodness for him. You walked into the kitchen wearing an oversize t-shirt and your underwear. This was how you dressed when you were at home. If you were home you were going to be in your comfiest clothes, after all you were just lounging around, no need to be all dressed up. 

“Good Morning Petal,” Danny said as he made you a plate of pancakes. You couldn’t help but to giggle at him. He had gifted you with that nickname after meeting you. You were standing under a tree that had rained flower petals down into your hair, it was cheesy really, but it always made you blush coming from him.

You never understood how someone could be so cheery first thing in the morning. You were the complete opposite, an absolute grouch. You were enjoying your peaceful morning with Danny when the demon emerged from the hallway. Sam didn’t bother looking at you or even greeting you. He fixed his plate of breakfast and sat down by Danny at the bar. The room fell silent, poor Danny tried to make small talk, it was a failed attempt. You could’ve cut through the tension with a knife.

Not a sound was made until you stood up to take your plate to the sink and you heard coughing. You turned around to see what all of the commotion was about. Sam was red faced and trying to get a hold of himself. “Forget how to eat Kiszka?” You did make sure he was alright, not that you would’ve jumped to give him the heimlich. He didn’t give you some snarky comment like he normally would, instead he was looking you up and down. His eyes were glued to you.

You chose to ignore it, thinking that he was just jostled up from choking. Danny didn’t take notice of Sam's weird behavior, he was too busy laughing at him. You cleaned up the kitchen and went to your room to shower and start your day. You went to leave for work, Sam was still sitting at the bar, “Leave any hot water for the rest of us?” 

 

“I left hot water for those of us who actually live here and pay the bills here,” you shot back before walking out of the door. 

You owned a flower shop just fifteen minutes from your house, which was ironic given your nickname from Danny. He hadn’t even known that you owned the flower shop at the time. You actually met Danny, and eventually Sam, because they owned a record store across the street. It was storming one afternoon and you’d only just moved to town and you didn’t know a single person. You had waited for the rain to slack up and walked outside to check on things and bumped into Danny underneath a pink Crape Myrtle tree and he instantly became your first friend. 

Your lunches used to be spent with the three of you, now of course it was just you and Danny. Now anytime you came over to see him you and Sam kept your distance. You assumed that today would be no different, you made your way across the street for your regularly scheduled lunch break with Danny. Oddly enough, instead of Sam’s usual choice of ignoring you he was snarkier than ever. 

“Don’t you have any other friends to spend your lunch with? I mean we see enough of you at home as it is,” Sam called from the back of the store.

“Home? When did you start paying bills?” you retorted. Of course he was going to pick a fight with you. You knew it was going to be even worse with Sam staying at your house.

Sam walked up to the front and had lunch with you and Danny for the first time in at least a year. He continued to do everything in his power to make your blood boil. This was odd behavior to say the least. Danny gave you a weird look with his eyes. You just shrugged, you were dumbfounded. 

When you got home that evening you went straight to your room for the night. Sam wasn’t nice to you or anything, he was snarkier than ever. But for the last year he had done all that he could to make sure that the two of you wouldn’t even breathe the same oxygen and he just sat with you at lunch. Like it was nothing. 

You had almost dozed off when Danny came bursting through your bedroom door. “What are you doing sleeping? It’s our movie night!” 

You had almost forgotten, you and Danny had movie night once a week to unwind and catch up. “That’s right and it’s my turn to pick!”

“Oh shit, maybe I shouldn’t have reminded you, you’ll have us watching something scary or Harry Potter.” 

“Just go start the popcorn and I’ll look for something to watch. We are going to be alone right?” you were praying that you would finally get some alone time with Danny, or just some time without Sam looking around.

“Of course Petal, it’s our movie night just for us I promise,” Danny reassured you.

You finally settled on a movie, Scream, your favorite. You snuggled up into Danny’s arms. You were surprised that he didn’t complain about your choice. After the movie was over you caught up on your week and had some snacks. Danny wanted to watch another movie and you definitely wanted more alone time with him since Sam had been in the way lately. You stayed up almost all night when you both dozed off the couch with the next Scream movie still playing. You and Danny were cozied up, arms around each other, as usual. When you were rudely awakened by the front door slamming and the unmistakable sound of Sam’s huffing and puffing.

“Well isn’t this just adorable,” Sam gestured to you and Danny’s sleeping position, “I must have missed my invite to movie night.”

This had clearly gotten under Danny’s skin, which was very rare. He was always the one to referee you and Sam. He always kept a cool head. “You would have gotten an invite if you were wanted here, but you didn't, did you? Maybe if you were nice to Y/n once in a while, but you just can’t seem to do that.” 

You were shocked that Danny had said that. He was always a ray of sunshine, even when he was angry with someone he never actually spoke up. Sam was just as shocked as you. He was left speechless. You had never seen Sam left without words, he always had a snarky comment ready to fire back. You were happy that he had finally spoken up to Sam, but still dumbfounded with Danny’s response. Sam retreated to his room and stayed there for the rest of the night. 

A few weeks had gone by and things had cooled down. Sam and Danny were perfectly fine as suspected. Danny hadn’t brought anything up and you definitely weren’t about to. Sam hadn’t said a single word to you since that night, which was fine by you. He had gone back to keeping his distance and keeping his snarkiness to himself.

It was their five year anniversary of owning the record store together. Of course they had to throw a party. They always found an excuse to have a party of some sort. You spent the next week helping Danny plan it. It would be at your home of course. 

The night of the party was filled with mostly people you knew. All of them through Danny and Sam. Their brothers Jake and Josh were usually the life of the party and you loved their company. You had gotten pretty close with them when you and Sam were at your closest. Everyone was dancing and mingling and of course drinking. 

You spent most of the night with Danny, the guest of honor. You hadn’t thought of Sam hardly at all over the last few weeks. Even though he was still staying with you and Danny, he kept his distance. But tonight after a few drinks you thought if you went to congratulate him maybe the waters would finally settle around the two of you. You didn’t have much interest in being friends again, but you knew it mattered to Danny. 

You knew he didn’t deserve a moment of your time or breath. You scanned the crowd to find that Sam’s eyes were already on you. You walked over to him, “Hi Sam, I just wanted to say congratulations, I am proud of the both of you.” 

He looked confused that you had even interacted with him, almost stunned, “U-uh thanks Y/n.”

It was silly, but for a moment you swore that you saw the Sam that you used to know and care for. His eyes were softer and kinder, rather than filled with hate and rage. You walked away and spent the rest of the night with Danny and his brothers. After the majority of the crowd cleared out you started to clean up a bit while Danny and Sam said their goodbyes. All that was left was you, Sam, Danny, Jake, and Josh. You all sat around talking and drinking the night away. Once you settled into your safe place, Danny’s arms, you almost dozed off. But you turned when you heard Sam scoff directly at you and abruptly head to his room. He didn’t even speak to his brothers. “What the hell was that about?” Jake drunkenly laughed. 

Danny just shrugged and gave a strange look to everyone. A little bit later you got up to go to the bathroom, passing by Sam’s room on your way. The door was cracked open and you thought heard a voice from inside. You went to make your way to the bathroom, but then you heard your name. Your name followed by moans. You slowly peeped inside to see if your ears were playing tricks on you. They were not. You slid in undetected to see Sam, who supposedly hated you with every bit of his being, with his hand wrapped around his cock. He almost looked beautiful. He looked vulnerable. He looked like the Sam you knew. He was laid down flat on his back, his eyes squeezed shut, and whispering your name to himself while he pleasured himself. You wouldn’t have believed this if you hadn’t seen it for yourself. This brought your mind into a whirlwind of a spin.

You knew it was wrong to watch this intimate moment, but you couldn’t peel your eyes away. You didn’t want to if you were honest with yourself. You slid back out before he could see you. Jake and Josh left and you and Danny eventually fell asleep snuggled together on the couch. You never mentioned what you saw that night. 

Over the next week however, your mind was spinning. You knew that night you had seen just a glimpse of the Sam you used to know, but you definitely did not think that he ever had feelings for you of any kind. It was all that you could think about. That definitely came out of nowhere. 

The next movie night rolled around, Danny had called and said that he would be home a little later. So you sat and waited for him, getting some things done around the house. You realized it was the first time in a few months that you had the house all to yourself. This was the perfect opportunity for some much needed release. You had a lot of energy surging through your mind and body in light of recent events.

You headed for your bedroom eagerly. You removed your clothing and got your little pink vibrator out of your bedside drawer. You laid down onto your back on your bed. You began to rub over your body. You realized it had been a bit since you had had some true time with yourself. You slid your middle finger through your slit to find that you were already soaked. You pumped one finger in and out as you ran your vibrator over your clit. You let the thoughts roll through your mind when your mind started to play tricks on you. At first your mind suddenly went to thoughts of Danny. You would never admit that the thought of him had helped you get off more than once. The way that his curls would look wrapped in your fingers and the way that his muscles would flex around you.

Then your mind shifted to Sam. The images of Danny and Sam having their way with you together. You began to clench around your own fingers deep inside of you. Little whimpers escaping your mouth. Then, the only thing that was running through your mind was Sam. You fought it as long and hard as you could. The way he looked and sounded that night that you walked in on him, it was intoxicating. His bare chest with a thin layer of sweat. His long  brown hair cascading to his shoulders. How sweet he sounded calling out your name while he took himself to the edge. 

It was like you lost all control and began calling out for him just like he had for you. It was pulling you closer and closer to your end. You began screaming his name, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you came. You felt a white hot release and your vision went black. With a heaving chest you opened up your eyes when your breath hitched in your throat. You looked up and in your doorway was an astonished and wet Sam. His eyes wide when they met yours. He had a devilish grin a mile wide plastered onto his face. Your face was red hot by now. You were both silent for a few moments while you were still trying to come down from your high. 

What you saw next stunned you even more. You fully expected him to send a snide comment straight your way. Instead, he took his hand to his face, whipping off your release and brought his fingers to his mouth and releasing them with a ‘pop’. “You taste just as sweet as you look.”

“Sam w-what are you doing?” was all that you could sputter out.

“Well I heard you calling for me and I thought something might be seriously wrong since I’m the last person you would call for. And to my surprise I find you spread out all pretty calling for me while you cum,” he said as if this was just a normal and calm conversation between the two of you.

You were not calm, you were astonished and bewildered. 

“Whatever you were imagining about me though, I bet the real thing is much better,” Sam said as he slid his shirt off and placed himself onto the bed directly beside you. 

You suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment and nerves. You tried to cover yourself with your sheets. Did you even want this? Don’t you hate him? Doesn’t he hate you? You were about to ask a million questions when his warm hand cupped your cheek and his lips met yours. All of the nerves you had felt just a moment ago melted away in an instant. The kiss was slow and sweet at first, then it became dominating. Your teeth were clashing together and your tongues swirled around each other’s mouth. You were exploring each other for the first time. Your hands sliding and grabbing all over one another. You didn’t know what exactly to expect, was this a hate fuck? It was pretty gentle to be a hate fuck.

These thoughts became reality. His hand that once cupped your face so gently made its way to your throat with a tight grip. “Maybe next time I’ll be more gentle with you, but this time I think we both have some aggression we need to release. I’ve wanted this for too long for it to be gentle,” Sam said while he kissed his way to your breasts. 

‘Next time’, you thought to yourself. 

You were already naked, so he made his way around your body easily. You were over sensitive from your first orgasm, which had led to this situation that you were in now. Every kiss and lick that he gifted you with caused lightning to shoot through your body. You had a purple trail from your neck to your stomach. He licked the inside of your thighs and bit down in the most delicious way. He looked at you for approval, you nodded eagerly.

He made his way to your center. He licked one slow agonizing strip before diving into you like a starving man. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you let out the most pornographic moan you had ever heard. He licked and sucked like his life depended on it. He looked up at you and you could feel him grinning as he worked his tongue around your sensitive clit. He was clearly pleased with the effect that he was having on you. He looked gorgeous settled in between your thighs. He knew that he had you on the edge. “Sam, please, I need more.”

“I think that you can do better than that,” he teased.

You knew exactly what he wanted. “Sammy please, give me more, I want to feel you.” He had such a weakness for you calling him ‘Sammy’. Which was all that it took. He slammed two fingers into you. He pumped them quickly in and out of you, curling them up in the most delicious way. He was hitting your most delicious spots. 

You would’ve been almost embarrassed by the wet and lewd noises that he was pulling from you, but you were both far too deep into the pleasure now. Sam looked up at you with dark and lust filled eyes, “I’ve wanted this for so long, you’re being such a good girl for me.”

If you had been in your right state of mind this would’ve shocked you to your core, but you were barely holding on as it was. “Sammy, I-I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.”

“Cum for me baby, be such a good girl for me and cum all over me.”

This was all that it took for you to come undone around him. You tangled your fingers into his long brown hair. You were tugging it so hard that you were sure that you were hurting him. He didn’t seem to mind as he sucked your clit and worked your through your orgasm. You felt another white hot sensation and were sure that you saw stars. When you came to this time, you saw a delightful picture painted out in front of you. Sam was soaking wet from your release and drinking up every little drop. You could’ve cum again at the sight and sound of this. 

He sat up and you helped him remove his constricting pants. When you had seen him some nights ago you didn’t get a chance to see him in all of his glory. Now you could see every perfect inch. The sunlight from your windows was hitting him perfectly. When you pulled down his boxers his cock sprang up slapping his stomach. You had no idea he would be this big. Your eyes almost popped from your skull. It had drops of precum and was throbbing. 

You were basically drooling at the thought of tasting him. You went to take him into your mouth, but he swatted you away. You gave him a confused look. “I want you to baby, but next time. I’m afraid if you did right now I would cum immediately and I need to be inside of you.”

There it was again, ‘next time’, you didn’t have time to analyze this before he was crawling on top of you. He dove his tongue into your mouth and you were overwhelmed with the taste of you and him. He lined his cock up with your entrance. He slowly slid in, giving you time to adjust to the delightful sting of the stretch. He buried himself to the hilt. He only gave you a moment before slamming into you. He set a brutal and forceful pace. He was slamming in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly. The room was filled with the sounds of your skin slapping together and your screams and moans. You loved how vocal he was being with you. You loved the effect that you were having on him. Thank goodness you didn’t have neighbors.

You were both covered in sweat and sex. He pounded into you making you call out wildly for him. He swiped his tongue over your lips and bit down, you were sure that he had drawn blood, but you welcomed the sting of the pain.

He slid his hand down in between your bodies to draw circles over your clit. “B-Baby I need you to cum one more time for me.”

“I don’t think I can Sammy,” you tried not to sound as fucked out as you really were.

“Yes you can baby, I want us to cum together. Please cum for me, I know you can.”

With just a few more circles over your clit you came undone around his cock. You had tears rolling down your face and were screaming his name like never before. You tightened around him while he continued to slam into you. “Oh my god Sammy, I-I’m cumming, don’t stop.”

You felt him fill you up with his release as he moaned your name. He sounded even more beautiful than he did those few nights ago. He was right, it was so much better than anything that you could have imagined. You both laid there for a moment while he went soft inside of you. You looked into his eyes and saw your Sammy. The one that you had been longing for even when you didn’t know it.

He gave you a soft and caring smile. You were just about to try and get some answers when you heard the creak of your floorboards. You looked up to see Danny in your doorway. His cock visibly hard. Just like you had found Sam a bit ago.

“To be two people who hate each other, you seem to have had a lot of fun without me,” Danny said with a lustful smirk.

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