#sammy gvf

[dannythedog]

Cleaning out my camera roll

#greta van fleet #gvf #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #sam gvf #sam kiszka

[whollyfree]

Let's Talk

Summary – You have a hard time watching Jake be ogled, and he has a remedy to remind you what's yours.

Pairings – Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Word Count – 3.1k

Warnings – 18+ MINORS DNI!!! oral (f!receiving), face-riding, unprotected sex, dumbification, LOTS of dirty talk, cockwarming if you squint, spanking, mentions of alcohol

You had really fucking had it this time.

Was it a normal thing for Jake to be ogled? Yes! How could he not be? 

It was far too easy to find yourself staring at him; so you truly couldn’t blame anyone else for doing so. With an air of confidence, he enters a room and every eye falls onto him. 

He is an enigma to all (except you, of course) and it felt like damn near every girl at that godforsaken bar was on a mission to have his eyes so much as glance their way. He knows this, of course. How could he not?

But behind his mysterious, debonair exterior, he’s Jake. Your Jake. Your soft, sweet Jake who raids your pantry to make you breakfast in bed and fills your car with gas because “why do you ever let your tank run that low?! It’s not safe!” he had argued (but he still fills it up every time). 

He’s your loving, tender Jake who litters you with kisses at any given moment and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck when the poor thing feels as if he isn’t getting enough of your attention. That, and he can’t stand not to be touching you in any form or fashion. He’s just like a little lovesick puppy!

And no matter how hard you try to remind yourself of these things, to be rational, you can’t help but have to bite your tongue. The jealousy eats away at you and it infuriates you to no end. You hate yourself for it.

Which is why tonight at the bar, you bit your tongue so hard you’re sure small trickles of blood had seeped their way into your mouth. Jake stood by the bar; an arm securely wrapped around your waist as he beckons the bartender over with a simple raise of his fingers. 

Of course, when it’s Jake, it’s not hard to get anyone’s attention; unwanted or not. And that was abundantly clear from the blonde at the end of the bar, twirling her straw in her cocktail as she eyed your boyfriend. 

Her eyes moved up and down, and you notice they became stuck on his exposed chest and silver necklaces dangling against his tanned skin. And, oh god, do you hate her for it.

Stop it. Your conscience pleads with you to (for lack of a better phrase) chill the fuck out!

Jake could tell you were a bit pouty. He knows you all too well. And just as assumed, he knew he was being eye-fucked by the blonde at the end of the bar (and one hidden away in a booth in the back, but like hell he was planning on telling you that).

Part of him hates himself for finding your jealousy so amusing. And in all honesty, if he saw a man looking at you the way that women have looked at him, he’d be raising hell.

“You okay, baby?” He grins as the two of you walk into your home after your excursion to the bar, tossing his car keys on the kitchen counter.

“Mhm.” You hum. Short and sweet. He won’t expect a thing, right?

You’re kidding yourself and you know it.

“Yeah?” He replies, crowding your space immediately from behind. He takes the curves of your hips in each of his palms, his breath tinted with the Maker’s Mark he had a glass of at the bar. Top shelf only for him, of course. “You were awfully quiet tonight. Getting shy on me all of a sudden, princess?”

You can hear the subtle teasing in his voice, and you’re sure he knows exactly what you were sulking for. But you simply answer, not ready to give yourself away too quickly. “No, just tired is all.”

“Just tired is all,” he mocks you with a low chuckle. You’re a terrible liar, always have been. “It’s cute that you think you could ever lie to me.” He adds, lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck – it already feels too much but not enough. 

And when his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, you feel a rush of heat between your thighs, and you swear your knees may give out. How he’s able to turn you into a puddle of yourself so quickly? You’ll never know.

“Come on, princess,” he sounds, and just like that it’s over. His hands are removed from your hips and he moves in front of you, his arm outstretched to you and his body facing the stairs. “Let’s go to bed then if you’re so tired.”

You try to hide your huff of annoyance, aching to have his touch again after being subjected to watch women drool over him all night. So you decide, no, you’re not going upstairs. Your arms cross over your chest like an insolent child who didn’t get what they wanted. Stubborn and spoiled. And your act of defiance is certainly not lost on him.

“No?” He quirks up an eyebrow at you, “Is the princess suddenly not tired? Sure are moody, though. What’s that about?”

God, you hate him. You hate that he’s finding your frustration the slightest bit entertaining. He’s taunting you, dangling the carrot in your face just to see you bite back.

He huffs out a laugh at your silence. “Oh, so we don’t wanna talk now, hm? That’s alright. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Before you can even blink, you’re thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll. A surprised shriek slips out of you as he trudges up the stairs and in the direction of your bedroom. Smaller in stature he may be, but weak is not a way you would ever describe him.

“Jake!” You scold him, not having any of his shit right now. “Put me down!”

“Oh, so we are talking now?” He muses, depositing you on the neatly made bed. He hovers over you, standing at the foot of the bed where he practically threw you on it. 

“How about this then, princess?” He taunts, “Since you’re suddenly in the mood to talk, I say we play a little game. You talk, I listen.”

Seems easy enough…a little too easy. 

“Everything off.” There it is.

He strides over to the bed, climbing on before laying on his back. His head rests against the pillow as you continue eyeing him, slowly peeling your clothes off your body until your stark naked and sitting on your heels on the bed.

“So obedient, my pretty girl. And so fucking beautiful when you listen, aren’t you?” He coos. “Come have a seat, princess,” he beckons, still fully clothed, “talk to me.”

With a bite to the inside of your cheek, you rise from your sitting position to straddle his lap. And just as you begin to settle yourself – 

“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “Not quite, baby.”

Your incredulous look makes him laugh. What else could he have wanted?

“Come on,” he encourages, placing his hands on your hips. “Up you go, princess.”

With a quick slap to your ass, he hoists you up further. Your eyes go wide and you yelp at the crack of his hand hitting your skin, your heart racing as your knees straddle either side of his head. 

“Good girl,” he praises, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and to your hips to keep you steady. “Go on, princess. Tell me what’s got you so pouty. Wanna help.”

Considering you’re at a loss for words and can’t think straight with him eye-level with your cunt, you suddenly don’t even know why you were upset to begin with. But another swat to your ass quickly brings you back to consciousness.

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your head falling down and fingers gripping his hair. “They were staring at you…at the bar.” You manage out.

“Yeah? Who was, princess?” He’s teasing you even more now, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your clit until you choke out his name and begin tugging on the roots of his hair. He knows you can’t answer; you’re already too far gone and he’s hardly started.

But your impending fear that he would stop has you rushing out the words through uneven breaths.

“The girls at the bar,” you croak out as his lips continue pressing small kisses to your bundle of nerves. “Hated the way they looked at you. I was fucking jealous. I’m sorry.”

Pleased with your answer (even if he already knew it), he grins. And you can feel it against you before he presses one final kiss to your pearl.

“But you see, princess,” he says, smoothing his hands over your hips. “No one else gets to have this. Just because they see my face, doesn’t mean they get to fuck it like you do, do they?”

“N-no.” You reply, desperate to feel his mouth on you again.

“Good girl,” he croons. “And what they don’t know is that I get to have my face fucked by the prettiest little pussy whenever I please. Get to have your scent all over me. ‘Cause it’s yours, isn’t it, princess?” 

“Yes, sir.” You peep, unable to form another word if your life depended on it. 

Not only were you insanely turned on and dripping because his face was buried between your thighs, but it’s also due to how he speaks to you with such dominance and authority. He could have you on your knees (both literally and figuratively) with the snap of his fingers.

With one more praise of good girl, he dives back in, immediately sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking against it like a man starved. You feel your eyes roll back, a whining desperate mess above him. The tugging on his hair only gets tighter as he grips your hips to keep you against him.

You’re sure there will be marks, and you aren’t mad about it either. You need him tethered to you in every way possible.

He expertly licks through your folds, tongue gently prodding at your entrance as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t fight the whimper that leaves your lips, your pussy fluttering around the tip of his tongue. And when he groans at the feeling, you swear you’re done for.

“Jake,” you gasp, tightening your hold on his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He hums against your cunt, flicking your arousal against your clit before sucking it past his lips once more. 

“Yeah, princess? Feel that sweet little cunt fucking squeezing my tongue. That feel good? Feel good to take what’s yours?”

And before you have time to catch your breath, his tongue finds your entrance again. He wastes no time going harder, faster this time. His tongue fucks into you relentlessly, nose nudging your clit in perfect timing. It’s sloppy and wet and downright sinful.

You can hardly register when it happens, you’re so far gone, but you cum hard against his tongue. Grinding your hips against his tongue to chase the feeling for as long as your body will allow while you cry out his name like a hymn.

And he can’t get enough of it either, ravaging you and swallowing every bit he can muster until you pry yourself off of him. 

You look him over, his mouth, chin, and nose glistening with remnants of you. It’s enough to stir you back up again, your overstimulation be damned. Your lips crash into his, and he’s eager to capture them with his own, maneuvering you to straddle his lap. 

“Fuck, my sweet girl,” he breathes out. “Did so fucking good. Came so hard for me. Could eat that pussy until it suffocates me, I swear.”

You gasp when you feel his hardened cock through his jeans that he wore out make contact with your swollen clit. 

Grinding against him, you whimper against his lips at the new feeling bubbling within your tummy. He groans, feeling the slightest bit of relief as you grind against him. With the amount of wetness you felt between your thighs even after your orgasm, you’re sure that you’re absolutely soaking the fabric.

“This what you want, baby?” He murmurs. “Want my cock? Wanna fuck what’s yours?”

“Please.” You whimper, grinding down against him with a bit more force this time before moving your hips upwards to allow him to undress.

He practically moans when he sees the wet splotch of your arousal on the crotch of his jeans. “Fuck, princess. So fucking wet for me.”

“Jake, please,” you whine, tugging at his pants in an effort to make him move faster. 

“Oh, my needy little thing.” He teases, resuming pulling his pants down along with his boxers. “Just had her pussy fucked with my tongue and can’t wait for more, can you?”

You shake your head no, trying to will yourself to calm down. You don’t want him to think he has the power, even though he knows all too well that he already does.

“I know, princess.” He soothes you with his tone, tossing his pants and boxers on the floor along with your clothes. 

His dick stands tall, pressed against his stomach as precome leaks from the slit on the swollen head. He gives himself two languid strokes with his fist, hissing at the feeling. “Can’t wait to have you wrapped up around me…all tight and sweet and warm- fuck, come here, baby. Take it. Take what’s yours.” 

You’re quick to crawl back to him, desperate to have him inside of you as you grasp his shoulders for balance. Using one hand, you grasp him, whimpering when you feel his crown just lining up with your weeping hole. 

Jake holds your waist, patiently waiting for you to sink down around him. And when you do, you could cry from how good and full you feel already. You keen as you feel the familiar and pleasurable sting that only happens when he’s this deep inside you. 

“Shit,” He hisses, fighting the urge to fuck upwards into you. “Feels so good, princess. This cock is yours, baby. Everything is yours.”

And that’s more than enough to encourage you to begin riding him, rolling your hips back and forth at an even pace. You whine and mewl from above him as he holds your waist, encouraging you with each movement you make.

You’re both a complete wreck already. Jake is already so close to coming and you’d hardly started moving your hips against him.

“Whose cock is this?”

You hated when he made you talk. You could listen to him go on and on all day about nothing that truly mattered (especially in bed). But you hate having to talk as well. You feel like you were nowhere near as good at it as he is.

In hopes that he’ll somehow forget what he asked, you resume your movements and peel your eyes away, beginning to go faster in hopes that you’ll truly distract him. But that sure as hell doesn’t work.

“Uh-uh,” He scolds, using his free hand to take your chin and turn it to face him. Eye-to-eye. “Eyes on me, princess. Now tell me whose cock this is. Wanna hear you, sweet girl. Tell me nice and loud.”

You’re embarrassed. If your cheeks could turn any darker in this moment, you’re sure they would. And you don’t want to answer him, suddenly bashful even when he’s buried inside of you as you bounce on his cock. 

Displeased with your lack of a response, he angles his hips upwards, meeting you halfway to send himself deeper into the depths of your cunt. It catches you off guard to say the least, but only causes you to move faster, further onto him to chase that feeling again.

“It’s mine, sir,” you whine, words rushed and breathless. “It’s mineit’smineit’smine!” You continue, drunk off his cock and so close to coming you can’t hardly stand it.

Jake groans, continuing to push his hips upwards. “Yes, princess. My good fucking girl. It’s fucking yours.”

You want him to come harder than he ever has; want his cum deep inside you because it really is yours. He’s yours.

“Taking me so well, princess.” He pants. “Riding me so fucking good. Go on, baby. Want you to come again. Soak my cock, baby.”

Your words become mush, incoherent babbles as you continue fucking yourself on him. You can’t hardly breathe anymore, your chest heaving for breath as you feel the knot inside of you threatening to snap.

“Oh, princess…” he coos, “My dumb little baby. Can’t even get a word out when my cock’s buried inside you. Can’t even help it, can you?” He snaps his hips upwards more forcefully than before, an unforgiving pace that allows you some sort of reprieve from the burning in your thighs.

The moan that rips from your chest would have caused you to curl in on yourself in embarrassment, but right now you can’t seem to care. The way he’s fucking into you, the way he’s speaking to you…it’s too much for your already fucked-out brain to handle.

“Gonna come!” You muster out, your voice cracking as you grip his shoulders tighter.

“Yeah?” Jake taunts, still snapping into you as your pussy contracts around him. “Do it, princess. I can feel you fucking squeezing me so tight- fuck, baby. Gonna make me fucking come, aren’t you?”

You want to answer him; you really do. But all you can muster is a nod as your orgasm rips through you, your mouth dropping open and your cunt locking down around Jake as it fights to keep him inside. Your ears ring as you pulse around him, unsure if you’re making noise or not at this point. 

Jake’s orgasm washes over him, choking out a moan of your name as he buries himself as far as he can. He spills inside of you, cum spurting from his swollen tip and into you. You feel him coating your walls as your vision returns to you, his eyebrows furrowed and sweat glimmering his forehead. 

God, he’s beautiful all the time, but especially like this.

The two of you are a breathless mess, feeling the his cum mixing with yours as it seeps down your inner thighs. You breathe out a laugh, your forehead falling against his as he wraps his arm around you.

“I’m yours, princess.” His voice is as soft as silk as he traces his fingertips along your spine. “You know that don’t you?”

You smile, lashes fluttering as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes your heart feel warm – even when you don’t deserve it; even when you’re acting like a brat.

“I do now.” You tease, attempting to bite back a smile but ultimately failing when you hear him giggle.

“Oh, princess,” He tightens his arms around you. “What are we gonna do with you?”

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#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #jake gvf #gvf #greta van fic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka one shot #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka fluff #josh kiszka #danny wagner #josh gvf #daniel wagner #sam kiszka #sammy gvf

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Sweet Talker - Sam Kiszka

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

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

MASTERLIST

••••

Sam’s voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I fucking…love it…”

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

Now that…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@wildbluesorbit @jaketlove

@tripthelightfatality

@sunandthemoontwinflames

@shutupdevvie @jakesguitarsolo

@ageofbarbarians @streamsofstardust

@gvfpal @theweightofjake

@twistedmelodies @belovedsamuel

@watchingover-hypegirl

@watchingovergvff

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @losfacedevil

@starcatcher-jake @gardensgatedaisy

@i-choose-the-road

@sammykiszkamyass @sammysprincess

@ascendingtostardust @gretasmokerising

@jake-kiszkas-smirk @gretavanfanfics

@doodle417

@greta-van-chaos @sarakay-gvf

@colorstreammind @ofburningskies

@groovyvanfleet

@highladyofasgard

@of-infinite-wonders

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka smut #gvf smut #greta van fleet smut #gvf #greta van fleet #sammy gvf #voice!kink sam #gvf fic #greta van fleet fics #greta van smut #gvf fanfiction #peaceful army #samuel francis kiszka #sfk #sam gvf #sammy kiszka #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic #gvf fics #greta van fleet fluff #sammy kiszka gvf #jake kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #sparrows fics #jake gvf #danny gvf #josh gvf

[holdingup-fallingsky]

Thinking about how hard Daniel grabs Sam’s waist

#last one especially #like damn girl ok #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #daniel robert wagner #samuel francis kiszka #sammy gvf #danny gvf #sanny gvf

[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

•

LMK IF I MISSED ANY TAGS!

•

🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

“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

[ninas-tearsofrain]

yep :)

#things i find on pinterest #accurate tho #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake gvf #josh gvf #danny gvf #sammy gvf #sam gvf #sammy kiszka

[joshsindigostreak]

I love how the dude went in for a traditional Bro-one hand/arm hug and Sam was like fuck that I’m draping my arms around you and burying my face in your neck, ya feel? instead 🥺

#sam kiszka #greta van fleet #sammy gvf #Sam gvf #sammy nation

[bizzielisteningtogreta]

hi, jake hand nation!

#happy jacob thomas thursday #anyways hope y’all are having a great week! #jake kiszka #jake gvf #gvf #greta van fleet #greta #gretavanfleet #sammy kiszka #sammy gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #daniel wagner #daniel gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf

[ceceag22]

I’m still here 🚶

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

[ageofhearingloss]

Talk ⎮ Sam Kiszka x Reader

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

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

pairing: asshole!sam kiszka x fem reader

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

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

word count: 8.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck him. 

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

Your stare darkened and your jaw tensed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only he could act this way with everyone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there’s the asshole I know. 

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

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

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

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

Sam. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, don’t stop on my behalf.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What? Were you hearing him correctly?

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

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

“Are you fucking serious right now, Sam?”

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

“That depends, are you considering it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have a big mouth.”

He moved closer to you. 

“You ruin my fun.”

Closer still.

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

Closer.

“I fucking despise being around you,”

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

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

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

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

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

“And what would that be, doll?” 

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

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

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

“Tell me what I want.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He whispered. 

“Yes, I want you to fuck me, Sam.”

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

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

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

“Green.”

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

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

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

“Like what you see, princess?”

Nevermind. 

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

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

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

Good. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you wanted to cum so badly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On your hands and knees, now.”

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

“Make me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Sam! God, I fucking hate you-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I fucking hate you.”

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

“Where can I-”

“Inside, do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist: @joopsworld @gold-mines-melting @shutupdevvie @indigostreakmorgan @sacredjake @malany-gvf @writingcold @mountain-in-springtime @anthemofgvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @katelynn-gvf @alwaysonthemend @lightmylust @alleinblues @f3ralbadomens

the form to be added to my taglist is on my pinned post <333

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fanfic #gvf #sammy gvf #sam gvf #sam kiszka x reader smut #sam kiszka x reader fanfic #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka gvf #iz fics #Spotify

[sunnykiszka]

Big.

Huge.

Ginormous fan,

of Boyfriend!Danny.

#daniel wagner #danny gvf #greta van fleet #boyfriend danny #josh gvf #jake gvf #sammy gvf

[aflame4goinghome]

Bad Reputation

s.f.k. x reader

chapter one

Series Summary: As a local jazz pianist in Nashville, you never fear being in the spotlight. Living in the same city, you’ve become very familiar with Sam Kiszka, a young musician who’s managed to gain a bad reputation in the city and throughout the country within his band’s fanbase. You’ve always just ignored Sam’s promiscuous and impulsive ways, but when you’re approached by the band to help repair his image, you’re given an offer you can’t refuse.

Word Count: 6k

Chapter Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex, mentions of smoking (tobacco & marijuana), flirting, arguing, sexual tension… you get it ;) (no smut… yet)

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so excited to share this series with you all. The idea came to me and I think it really ended up so good, I can’t wait for you to read it. Let me know in the comments or in my messages if you want to be added to the taglist for this series! See you soon :)

Listen to the playlist here :)

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The club was dark and crowded as you entered through the front door and made your way backstage to begin setting up. Your shoulders brushed past other people in the crowd, making it difficult for you to get to the back. On your way there, you paused for a moment, deciding to stop at the bar first for a much-needed drink.

“Hey, Sebastian!” you said, leaning over the bar as you greeted the bartender. You’ve been playing here for so many years, these guys were some of the closest friends you’ll ever have.

“Y/N, hey! Need a pick-me-up?” he said, turning his attention to you fully for a moment as the bar was bustling with other customers. Better make this quick.

“Can I just get a double rum and coke? Only a little bit of ice in it,” you asked, smiling politely as he nodded and began making your drink.

You take a second to look around the club as you wait, feeling a bit nervous as you take in how many people are actually there. You’ve played big crowds before, sure, but tonight felt extra intimidating for some reason.

You had sensed for a few months now that your big break might be coming soon, at least that’s what you’d hoped. You’ve grown to be quite popular in the greater Nashville area, but your reach hasn’t gone much further than that. You hope to branch off and move to New York one day, to play there professionally full-time.

For now, though, you make your living by playing gigs weekly, posting your music online, and taking a few brand deals here and there. It’s working well, and you make enough money to get by, but you’re not entirely fulfilled.

“Double rum and coke for the lovely lady,” Sebastian said, sliding your drink across the bar toward you with a smile. You return his smile and take it in your hand, tipping it toward him as a thank you.

“Thanks, Seb. I’ll be back later, you know I’m gonna need it,” you muttered, taking a long swig of your drink before squeezing your way through the rest of the crowd and finally making it to the backstage door.

Pushing the door open, you turned the corner toward your usual dressing room and started to set yourself up. You take your coat off, place it on the small couch with your tote bag, and then turn to the mirror to touch up your makeup before you take the stage in 15 minutes. You hear the door crack open, so you turn your head to look and see who it is.

“There you are, Lucy!” you exclaimed, moving to the door to greet her with a hug. “Where the hell have you been? I didn’t see you at the bar before.”

“Sorry, babe, Seb had me refilling the kegs downstairs for him… lazy bastard,” she scoffed, moving past you to plop down on the couch. “That’s a man’s job! That shit is so heavy!” You chuckle at her, finishing off your drink and then turning back to the mirror to finish applying your lipstick.

“He’s building up your strength, Luce! What happened to equal rights?” you laughed, making eye contact with her in the mirror as she rolled her eyes at you.

“Whatever, Y/N. I don’t see you lifting any heavy things,” she mutters, crossing her arms and throwing her head back.

Lucy was probably your best friend in the whole city. You met her in high school, being in the same jazz band class together, and immediately clicked. She works at Seb’s jazz club part-time as a bartender and server, which is how you started playing there. You play plenty of gigs at other places too, but this place became your regular haunt, thanks to Lucy’s help. She asked Sebastian to give you a chance to audition 4 years ago, and you’ve been playing there ever since.

The two of you live together in a little apartment in Midtown, only a couple blocks away from the club. After graduating high school, Lucy decided to go to Belmont for journalism while you ended up just starting to work on your music full-time. You made ends meet and helped pay rent while Lucy went to school, and she’s worked to make it up to you ever since.

She’s in her last semester of graduate school now at Vanderbilt, getting a business degree with hopes of founding a newspaper of her own one day. At 24, she seems like she’s finally getting her life together, but for you, it feels like you’re only just getting started. You try not to compare yourself to her or anyone else, which was something your mother always nagged you about. You knew she was right, but you can’t help it.

Despite all of that, you’re sure that you’ll break into the industry soon. Seb had planned to hook you up with his buddy who works in one of the recording studios downtown to get you in and record your own stuff. He’s just waiting on your word to tell him that the album is ready, but you haven’t been able to finish it for the life of you. You’re not sure if it’s fear or perfectionism, but it just doesn’t feel finished to you yet. For now, you’re filling your time with gig after gig, hoping to find inspiration.

“Stop sulking in here and get back to work, I have to be out there in 5,” you say, turning around to give her a stern look. She scoffs at you and then stands up, walking out the door.

“Break a leg!” she shouts as she rounds the corner, leaving you alone once more.

You have to admit that you’re feeling nervous. You compiled a few originals to test out tonight with the crowd, hoping to get some excited reactions to some stuff that you planned to include in your record. You had a few classics in the setlist too, including your favorite arrangements of Misty and Lullaby of Birdland, to make sure that the crowd doesn’t get too lost. But you hope that you’re new stuff will keep them captivated.

You take a deep breath, brushing your hands down your dress a few times to straighten it out and taking one last look in the mirror before exiting the dressing room and heading toward the stage. You hear Seb announce your name as you turn the corner and stride onto the stage, flashing a quick smile at the crowd before sitting down at the piano.

The crowd hushed as your fingers plinked out the first few notes, and then you started your first piece. Your hands glided across the keys with ease as you closed your eyes, getting lost in the music. Your first original piece went off without a hitch, the crowd cheering loudly at your extensive solo. They were enraptured by the covers you chose and your confidence was truly shining brightly off of you.

The set ended as quickly as it began and the club erupts in applause as you played the last note and stood up to take a bow. You look out into the crowd and see your friends back at the bar, flashing them a wide smile. Your eyes pan across the rest of the room, seeing all of the people cheering for you. This was what you were made for, you were sure of it. This is what you’re meant to do.

As your eyes stop at the back corner of the room, your expression quickly drops when you see the group at the large booth. It was a group of men from a band that you were very familiar with, bumping elbows at all the music venues in Nashville. It wasn’t the band specifically that you had a problem with, but just one specific man who always gave you trouble. Sam Kiszka.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, flashing one more smile at the crowd before rushing backstage to your dressing room. You were so not in the mood for his antics tonight, not after putting on such a good show. The rest of his brothers, you could deal with, but not him. You refuse to let him tear down the confidence in yourself that you only just built up.

You grabbed your things in your dressing room and then hurried back out to the bar, needing to get a refill on your drink before even attempting to socialize with anybody.

“Seb– another, please. Pour it heavy,” you lament, resting your elbows on the bar and putting your head in your hands. You hear him chuckle as he starts your drink and you let out a low groan.

“I take it you saw them, then?” Lucy said, leaning against the bar next to you. You nodded as your head still sat in your hands, not bothering to look up at her. “Y/N, they’re really not that bad, I don’t understand what your problem is.” Your head shot up and you glared at her frustratedly.

“Not that bad? Sam takes every opportunity he can to belittle my music and talent every time I see him,” you scoffed, taking your drink from Seb and taking a long sip. “And when he’s not berating me, he’s trying to get in my pants.” Lucy rolls her eyes, stepping behind the bar to grab some drinks and put them on her tray.

“As if I’d ever stoop that low. That man’s been in bed with every single woman in Nashville. Probably even taken women, too!” you ranted, crossing your arms and taking another sip.

“Just ignore him, babe. I know the rest of them would like to see you,” Lucy said, lifting the tray to rest on her shoulder. “These are their drinks. Just come with me.”

She walks away with the tray toward the other side of the club to find their table. You linger for a moment and then let out an annoyed groan, throwing back another sip before reluctantly following behind her.

You followed Lucy with your head down, trying not to look too eager or willing to go with her. As you approached the table, Josh was the first one to catch a glimpse of you, a toothy smile growing across his face.

“There she is, the woman of the hour,” Josh remarks, opening his arms wide to pull you in for a hug. You accept, squeezing him tightly before pulling away. You smiled shyly as the others greeted you as well, except Sam, of course. He was distracted, seemingly complimenting the top Lucy had on. Barf.

She’d already been there, done that, which isn’t exactly surprising. Your best friend always had an affinity for one-night stands, never really wanting to settle down or get too serious. You never cared at all, until she told you one morning that she went home with Sam after a show one night. She promised that she didn’t plan to do it again, claiming she used him just as much as he used her, and you left it at that.

She kept her word, never going home with him again, but that didn’t stop him from flirting with her every time he came in here. You rolled your eyes as you watched him glance down at her cleavage subtly, but not subtle enough for you not to notice. He finally notices you standing there, turning toward you with a smirk. Here we go.

“Y/N… that was quite the set,” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to their booth. Josh and Jake excuse themselves to go outside for a smoke, and Danny takes a seat back in the booth, scrolling on his phone. Alone, great.

“Thanks, I think,” you say sarcastically, taking a sip of your drink as you look up at him suspiciously. You didn’t trust that look on his face one bit, and you were determined to find out what he was up to.

“Oh, that wasn’t a compliment,” he said smugly. “If you’re gonna arrange music, at least write a song where the chord progressions actually make sense together.” He raises his beer bottle to his lips and tips his head back to take a sip. You scoff at him, trying to take a deep breath before you blow this entire thing out of proportion.

“Samuel, you wouldn’t know a good arrangement even if it hit you in your smug face,” you bit out, still doing your best to hold yourself back. You swing back the rest of your drink, letting the cold ice hit your lips before slamming it down on the table next to you. “It was a B flat and E flat blues. Who crowned you the king of jazz composition?”

His smirk grew wider across his face as his back left the wall and he began to tower over you. You sucked in a deep breath, wondering if you should've just kept your mouth shut, but frankly you didn’t care. His long hair frames his face as he looks down on you, his eyes dark and cold.

“I did,” he answered, his face growing uncomfortably close to yours. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.” His tongue skims his bottom lip as his eyes bore into yours. No. No. He is not gonna win this round.

“Is that why you enjoy bothering me so much?” you asked, keeping your eyes locked on his, insistent on not backing down. His lips turn upward into a smug smile as he leans back away from you, placing his back on the wall once more.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just think it’s fun,” he answers, smirking down at you.

“You’re such a fucking freak,” you scoff, crossing your arms. You notice a change in his eyes at your words, and you start to wonder if you took it too far.

“You’ve got no idea, sweetheart,” Sam says, stepping forward again to stand over you.

“Gross,” you mutter under your breath, looking up at him, trying to keep a straight face.

“Now, I don’t think you mean that,” Sam whispered, leaning down further to speak into your ear. “I think you like it, actually.”

“You wish,” you state, still maintaining eye contact. His mouth twitches and turns up into a smirk as one of his arms snakes around your waist.

“All that blushing you’re doing says otherwise, doll. Even in this dark club, you can’t hide it,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. Fuck.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirked. You watch silently as Sam puts his beer bottle down on the table and then reaches into the front pocket of his shirt, pulling out a lighter and a blunt. “C’mon Daniel, let’s go outside.”

Sam shoots you a wink before nodding his head in Danny’s direction and the two of them walk toward the front entrance. They pass the twins on their way out, who both turn to look at you with puzzled expressions as they sit down at the booth. You sit down next to Josh as you try to adjust the annoyed look that is so clearly plastered across your face.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrow at you and taking a sip from his glass of whiskey sitting on the table. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, not even having an answer to give.

“The usual, of course. Can’t seem to leave me alone,” you muttered. The two of them let out a breathy laugh as Josh reaches over to put his arm around you.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him, darling,” he offers, smoothing his fingers along your shoulder. “It’s all just show.”

“For it just being show, it sure does feel pretty insulting,” you say, fiddling with your fingers atop the table.

“You’ll adjust eventually,” Jake says. “We like havin’ you around, so don’t run off just yet.” A smile grows across your face at Jake’s subtle attempt at an olive branch.

“I’ll tough it out, I promise,” you answer. You suppose you can adjust to Sam’s antics to spend time with them. You could use all the friends in the industry as you could get.

“How long have you been playing piano?” Josh asks, taking a sip of his tequila soda.

“Oh, I started lessons when I was 6,” you answered with a smile.

“That’s sick, I started pretty young too,” Jake replies, resting his arms on the table. Bonding with successful musicians has been your dream and the fact that you’re getting along so well made you really happy.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard! Believe it or not, I am actually a bit of a fan of your band. Casually, of course,” you smile, trying to be chill about it. It wasn’t entirely a lie, you are just a casual fan, but you’ve definitely watched an interview or two as well, leading to you knowing more about them than you intended to.

“Oh, yeah? Which one of us is your favorite, huh?” Josh asks smugly, raising an eyebrow at you hopefully. God, the amount of testosterone in this room could be cut with a knife.

“Hmmm… Danny,” you jest, elbowing Josh softly. The three of you break out into laughter before you check your phone to see the time. 12:32 am. Yikes, it’s late.

“Well, I gotta head out, unfortunately,” you say, standing up from the booth. Before you had the chance to walk off, Josh stopped you.

“Hey, uh, we’re gonna be in the studio on Monday for a few hours to work on some new music… would you wanna stop by?” Josh asked, looking up at you hopefully. “It could be a cool way for you to get exposed to how the recording process works.”

“Oh, wow, that would be incredible!” you smiled. “That’s such a kind offer, thank you so much! I’ll definitely be there.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the details,” he says with a smile, and you wave goodbye to them both and walk over to the bar to find Lucy.

“Ready to head out?” you ask, leaning over the bar toward her.

“Sure, let’s go!” she answers, turning around to grab her jacket and bag.

“God, I have so much to fill you in on…” you say as you walk out the door toward your apartment. You told her all about your brief run-in with Sam, and then Josh’s invitation to the studio as you walk down the street. She quite literally squeals when she hears the news.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N this could be it! This could be your big break!” she exclaimed as you turned the corner to the path to your building. “If you get in with their producers, this could really get you started! You have to make a good impression.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m freaking out! I really can’t screw this up,” you said as you turn the key in the door.

“You could never screw it up, babe. They’re gonna love you, I promise,” Lucy reassured you, hugging you tightly before branching off to her own bedroom.

All you had to do was get through the weekend, and then the day of your dreams will be all yours. Fuck, you don’t have anything prepared! As you shut the door to your bedroom, you rushed to sit down at your keyboard, turning it on. You pulled out your phone and opened the voice memos app, pressing start and then setting it down. You have to get a good demo down if you want to impress the producers at the studio and book a session there.

You spent all of Saturday and Sunday recording a few of your originals on your phone, taking dozens of takes to make sure each of them was perfect. This is it, it’s your moment.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Your alarm goes off at 8 am, giving you two hours until you’re meant to meet Greta Van Fleet at the studio. Josh texted you yesterday with the time and address, emphasizing that you shouldn’t overthink it. He knew that you’d be freaking out, and he was right.

You’re hoping that a cool shower will wake you up and help you shake the nerves off. You get up out of bed, rub your eyes, and then grab your towel and walk out of your bedroom to the bathroom.

As the cold water hits your back, you start to think over the day that you have ahead of you. If everything goes the way you planned, then you might leave today with a record deal, or plans to meet up to make a deal. You appreciated Josh’s help so greatly, you really weren’t expecting it. He’s always been so kind to you, more so than the rest, but you figured that it was just the way he was. Now, it feels like he really has your back.

All you had to do was make it through today without any incidents with Sam. You hope that the other guys have already briefed him and told him to be on his best behavior, but you doubt that he’ll abide by that. You can hold your own, though, and you doubt that he’d pull something too obscene while working.

After drying off and getting ready to go, you find that you still have about 20 minutes until you need to leave. To pass the time, you sat down in your bed and opened up Instagram to scroll mindlessly for a little while until you had to drive downtown.

As you scroll down, your eye is caught by a post by The Nashville Fiddle, which is a local magazine. The Fiddle posts mostly about drama and celebrities, and you usually ignore everything they post, since you try not to give gossip the time of day. But this time, your eyes were stuck on their post, with a video of Sam Kiszka, belligerent and wasted outside of a club downtown Saturday night.

In the video, you can see Sam flirting with a girl outside of the club when a big, burly man comes up to him angrily. Clearly, this girl was taken, and her boyfriend was not happy. You can see Sam hollering back at him, getting in his face as he slurs his words before the man takes a large swing at him. Then, you see Danny show up behind him and pull him back, dragging him down the street, far away from the scene.

How could he be so stupid? Flirting with girls with boyfriends is bad enough, but it’s even worse to get into an argument and get caught on camera. He should know that he’s a public figure and that people can spread this kind of stuff around. What was he thinking?

You check the time and see that it’s about time to go, so you grab your tote, pick up your keys, and then head out the door. As you drive downtown, you take a few deep breaths. It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself. Everything will be fine.

Soon enough, you pull into a parking spot in front of the studio and put your car in park. 9:59 am. Just on time. You get out of the car, throw your keys into your bag, and then head toward the front door. After opening the door, you walked in and told the person at the front desk that you were meeting the band, and they directed you to the right studio.

As you enter the studio, you walk in to only find Danny sitting there. He looks up from his drum set and waves, standing up to greet you.

“Hey, Danny… where are the others?” you asked, hugging him and then taking a seat on a chair nearby. Danny lets out a long laugh, trying to compose himself before answering.

“Oh, they are never here on time. This is considered early,” he answers, smiling widely as he goes to sit back down at his set. “I wouldn’t expect any of them for at least another thirty minutes, if not longer.” You laugh along with him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Ah, Josh should have told me! Now I feel embarrassed for being so early,” you say, looking down at your phone for the time. 10:11 am.

“Nah, he just can’t admit that he’s always chronically late. He’s in denial,” Danny jokes. “Do you want anything while we wait? There’s coffee and tea over there.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice actually,” you answered, standing up to walk over to the coffee cart. “I’ll be honest, I’m not much of a morning person.” Daniel laughs, standing up to walk over with you.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever met a jazz player that was,” he says with a smile. “I think it’s just part of your DNA.” You laugh, nodding your head in agreement.

“You might be right. It’s not our fault, we play at night!” you say, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

“Sam’s the same way, y’know. Stays up ‘til ungodly hours of the night, and then doesn’t roll out of bed until after noon,” he notes, laughing to himself. You laugh awkwardly as you add cream to your cup, cringing at the possibility of having anything in common with Sam Kiszka.

Almost as if he read your mind, Sam walked through the door, sunglasses blocking the dark bags under his eyes. He’s clearly hungover, rubbing his temples as he waltzes over to the cart and grabs the pot of coffee, pouring it into his own cup.

“Rough weekend, Samuel?” you asked teasingly, having already read about his escapades from this weekend. You can see his eyes roll behind the tint of the sunglasses as he takes a sip of his black coffee.

“Don’t start with me today, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pouring more coffee into his cup to make up for what he already drank, and then walking over to the corner to sit down on the sofa. He puts his feet up on the cushions as he takes a sip and then lays his head back against the armrest.

“See what I mean?” Danny asks, laughing as he walks over to his set and starts playing on his own, seemingly practicing. The idea sends a shiver down your spine. Could you and Sam be more similar than you thought? No, no way, you thought to yourself.

Not long after, Josh and Jake walk through the door and things can finally start moving. Josh walks over to make a cup of tea and then takes a seat on a stool, taking a slow sip. You walk over to him, hoping that his usual cheery disposition would calm your nerves.

“Good morning, lovely,” Josh smiled, patting your shoulder softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” you answered nonchalantly with a shy smile.

“Good. We’re still waiting for our manager, Jodie, to arrive, so just hang tight,” he says, taking another sip of his tea.

“Hey, you know what? How about you play us something?” he asks excitedly, his eyes lighting up. “Could be a good way to wake us up, huh?”

Your eyes shoot open, looking around the room at the rest of the guys. Danny is nodding excitedly and Jake walks over to his guitar stand, picking up his Gibson SG and slinging it over his head. Sam isn’t paying attention, his sunglasses have come off and his eyes are shut as he reclines on the couch.

“Well, okay… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you answered, walking over to Sam’s keyboard next to the drumset. You turn it on and adjust the settings, giving it a funkier sound before taking a deep breath and starting to play.

You decide to play Higher Ground, by Stevie Wonder, falling into the groove of the intro of the song as your fingers move across the keys. Danny’s face lights up as he listens closely to what you’re playing, then starts playing along. Jake follows suit, adding his guitar into the mix, and playing along with you. Of course, everyone knows Stevie Wonder, but being able to play with a band was just so cool to you.

People keep on learnin’

Soldiers keep on warnin’

World keep on turnin’

‘Cause it won’t be too long

Josh sings along, his voice fitting perfectly in the range of the song. The four of you are really grooving now, and it is so fun for you. It’s been years since you’ve played with others, and you loved it.

You watch as Sam lifts his head from the couch, opening his tired eyes to look over at you all. For a moment there, you almost think that he might be smiling, but you shake it off. You’re surprised to see him rise from the couch and walk over, grabbing his Rickenbacker off the stand and putting the strap over his head. Oh, he’s gonna play along…

Sam starts plucking his bass, along with the rest of the song. You knew that they’d all played in jazz bands before, and this song was a staple, but it surprised you how easy it was to join together and play. It was almost like you belonged there.

As you start a short piano solo, their manager walks through the door and sits down on the couch. She seems to nod at you to keep going, so you finish your solo and then end the song. You’re suddenly caught by surprise as Josh starts applauding, smiling widely as he walks over to you. He stands behind you, putting his hands firmly on your shoulders, squeezing them.

“You’re an incredible talent, Y/N, truly,” Josh remarked, smiling from ear to ear as he left your side and went to sit back down. You smile shyly and get up from the bench behind the piano to go sit down on the couch with Jodie. The rest of the guys start talking cacophonously as you start your conversation privately with her.

“It’s true, you’re really good,” she says honestly, reaching out to shake yours. “I’m Jodie, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh, you have? Thank you so much, it’s great to meet you. I assume it was Josh who told you about me, he’s the one who invited me today,” you answer, smiling shyly at the compliment.

“I first heard about you from Sam actually… he had a lot to say about your talent on the keys,” she says, catching you completely by surprise. Sam? Is she being serious right now?

“Did he now?... Interesting,” you replied, your tone feigning confidence. “Well, I’m honored to be here today. I’ve been meaning to finally get into a studio here in Nashville.”

“Yes, I heard from Josh that you plan on recording an album of original songs,” Jodie remarks. “I’m happy to have you here! Hopefully, we can get you to work a bit! Not to mention, it’s quite nice to have a bit more of a gender balance.” You laugh together for a moment before she gets up to greet the guys, going over the agenda for the session.

They go through a few new songs, trying to get it all down perfectly. You just sit and watch, absolutely mesmerized by watching the professionals work. You even escaped to the booth for a while to see the mechanics of the equipment, talking to some of the sound techs that work there. It was a really rewarding learning experience for you.

“Okay, that’s a wrap, guys! Good work today, we’ll be back here at the same time on Friday,” Jodie says. “Sam, can you hang back for a sec?” She walks back over to sit next to you on the couch, nodding her head to motion for Sam to join you. Once she’s certain that everyone else has left the studio, she starts talking.

“So, I’ve had an idea. Just hear me out,” she started, somewhat apprehensively. “Y/N, I was thinking about how highly the guys speak about you, and how much untapped talent you have.” Okay… this is getting weird.

“And Sam, I’ve been thinking about ways to improve your public image and get you out of your rut,” she finished, trailing off as she saw Sam’s annoyed expression.

“Okay, first of all, I am not in a rut,” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as he leaned back on the couch.

“That’s not the point,” she snapped back. “My point is that I think I might have thought of a way to solve all of our problems.” You raise your eyebrow at her, still not really understanding what she’s getting at.

“What could possibly solve both of our problems?” you ask suspiciously.

“Like I said, just hear me out…” she says, but Sam interrupts her.

“Jodie, just spit it out already,” he groaned, growing frustrated.

“I think you guys should pretend to date!” she finally spat out, looking nervously at your reactions. Your jaw dropped as she finished her sentence, unsure that you even heard her right. Sam, however, already shot up out of his seat and stood angrily above you both.

“No, fuck no, absolutely not. This is ridiculous,” he starts ranting, but she cuts him off.

“Just listen to me, Sam. You’d improve your reputation by having a charismatic and talented girlfriend, the fans would love her! And Y/N, you’d gain followers and fans for your music career, and our label can get you started in our studio. Boom, both problems are fixed.”

“No! How could I even pretend to be interested in him? It’s impossible,” you complained.

“Woah, okay, try not to sound too disgusted,” Sam said, crossing his arms with a scoff.

“Don’t act like you didn’t react the exact same way, you asshole,” you scoff, staring daggers into him.

“Whatever, it’s not the same thing,” he spits back.

“Whatever, this isn’t productive,” you admit, crossing your arms in your seat.

“Exactly. It won’t even be that bad. Besides, you’re both benefiting here! It’s perfect,” Jodie says proudly.

“Well, I don’t know about perfect, but I guess it does kind of make sense…” you muttered, looking up at Sam nervously. He raised an eyebrow at you, walking toward you.

“You want to be my fake girlfriend, Y/N?” he teased. You roll your eyes and stand up to be more level with him, hating him towering over you.

“Shut up, Sam,” you replied, a hint of pink tinting your cheeks as your eyes locked on his.

“So? You guys are in?” Jodie asked hopefully. You and Sam exchange a look, then look back at her and nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re in,” Sam answered, looking over at you with a smirk before walking toward the door. “Now, are we done here? I’ve got places to be.” You roll your eyes and reach down to grab your bag.

“We’re done here, go,” you mutter, slinging your bag over your arm. Sam walks out the door as quickly as he had came in, and you follow soon after him.

As you drive back home from the studio, you think about all of the day’s events. You almost can’t even believe that you agreed to be Sam’s girlfriend, fake or not. But you have to admit that it’s going to be great for your career, this is exactly the big break you need. You feel confident that her choice to ask you was based on your talent, so the unconventional means of gaining popularity didn’t bother you.

It kind of excited you to be included with such a famous rock band like theirs– going on tour, going to the studio, seeing the magic happen. Having to spend time with Sam was just the price you had to pay to jumpstart your music career and get into the music industry. You’re not sure what type of a commitment this arrangement is going to entail for you, but you’re honestly kind of looking forward to it. You have to admit that “Rockstar’s Girlfriend” kind of has a ring to it.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment or send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, or if you want to be tagged in all of my stories! See you soon :)

Taglist:

@highladyofasgard @gvfpal @childinthegardenn @myleftsock @peaceloveunitygvf @gretasfallingsky @gretavanfan @itsafullmoon @jordie-gvf

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic #sam kiszka #sammy gvf #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #enemies to lovers #sam kiszka gvf #greta van smut #greta van angst #gvf #enemies to friends to lovers #bad reputation #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #gretavanfleet #sam kiszka smut

[holdingup-fallingsky]

Hey guys remember

#I just fully started cackling when I remembered #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #samuel francis kiszka #sammy gvf

[heathenharry]

Age doesn't change the person within. It is the person within that changes throughout the ages.

✨Happy 25th Birthday, Sam Kiszka✨

#sam kiszka #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #my gifs #sammy gvf #samfkiszka #gvf #sam gvf

[pattypanini]

Lay All Your Love On Me MasterList

Main: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Sub: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Summary: During your Junior year at the University of Michigan your part as Sophie in the Mamma Mia musical leads you to much more than just a role. Your infuriating love interest, Josh Kiszka, is far from being your lover. When your part is threatened to be taken away due to lack of connection, you’re forced to get closer, in more ways than one. But will that be interfered when another Kiszka steps into your life?

Posting every Friday!!!

Taglist

Preview

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

#greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van smut #gvf #gvf fic #gvf smut #josh gvf #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiskza smut #josh kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiskza x reader #jake kiska fic #jake kiskza smut #gvf fluff #fluff #smut #jake kiszka smut #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #sam gvf #sam kiskza #sammy gvf #danny wagner #danny wagner gvf

[ageofnations]

Carried Away // sfk

Summary: college roommates, friends to lovers

Word Count: ~8.4k

Warnings: 18+ only, smut with plot (and a shit ton of fluff), brief mention of insecurities, oral (f receiving), protected penetrative sex, let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: it’s been a while, i hope this makes up for it <3

“So you’re not going out or anything?”

He was scurrying about the room when he said it, which is why you almost didn’t hear the question in the first place. He was rushing in an organized frenzy, speaking around the toothbrush in his mouth while he slipped into the sleeves of his button-up. Over the television in front of you, you could hear the kitchen faucet turning on, the sounds of his brushing quickly accompanying it. You smiled at the mental image of him behind you, hovering over the sink as he prepared for his night out. 

You never understood why he chose to spend his weekends like this, worried about who he’d see, what he was gonna wear, and what pick-up line he’d use first with the other partygoers. 

“Nope,” you answered simply, snuggling a little closer to your blanket to solidify your answer. It was much cozier than what he was doing at least. 

He spit the toothpaste out - an exaggerated noise that makes you wince - and paused. You imagined the stare he was giving you as he spoke. “You could come with me!”

You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt at persuasion, something you had gotten much too used to throughout your friendship. “And watch you get shitfaced and flirt with anyone that gets too close to you? Yeah, no I’d rather not.”

It wasn’t the first time Sam tried to convince you to accompany him at yet another party. It’s what he always did, on the weekends especially. When you’d try to hide away and catch up on assignments or much-needed sleep, he’d try to drag you out with him. You were beginning to wonder how he manages such a good academic status when he didn’t seem to be in college to actually learn. 

He rarely knew what the occasion was that garnered the parties in question. Was it a frat party? What frat was hosting? A house party whose owner was unknown? A birthday party of a friend of a friend’s? The answer never mattered, but Sam was sure to be there. Said it “boosted morale,” whatever that meant. 

There was only one time in which you fell victim to his coaxing. One night after a tough week where you were completely caught up, even ahead in some of the projects for various classes. You deserved the time to loosen up and stop focusing on your grades for once, and your roommate surely knew how to do that. He was your number one supporter when you told him you were considering his offer. 

The night ended sooner than it began, with you leaving prematurely and telling him to call you when he needed you to pick him up. You tried to leave as quickly as possible, but not before you had seen his advancements on someone you knew was much less than what he deserved. 

He was your best friend, and you couldn’t help being a little protective of him. 

“Not my fault I have such a charming personality,” he called out.

That was one way to put it. 

You couldn’t keep your eyes from rolling at his statement, but the sly smile on your lips showed that you were far from annoyed. 

By the time he finished up at the sink, quickly disappearing into the bathroom to deposit his toothbrush, you were able to rid of the rosy color on your cheeks. But when he came back, you instantly felt the blush returning. 

“You could at least invite someone over so you aren’t holed up by yourself on a Friday night. What about that friend of yours from chem?”

You tried to hide the fact that your eyes widened when you glanced up at him. He was only buttoning up his shirt, and you had seen him shirtless plenty of times, but there was something about seeing the tanned skin of his torso that would never get old. 

Tearing your gaze away from him was the only way you could return to the conversation at hand. You had to take a second to remind yourself of who he was even referring to. 

“Yeah?” You sneered. “And do what?”

“I don’t know. Paint each other’s nails and gossip or whatever it is that girls do.”

No matter how hard you tried to hold it in, a laugh escaped you. You hated how easily his comments could amuse you, no matter how immature. “You are a child.”

“Am not!” He whined defensively, letting out a laugh that matched yours. “I just want you to have some fun for once!”

“I will have fun. Right here on the couch with my shitty soap operas.”

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes at you, shaking his head as he made his way back to the kitchen and out of sight of you. “You could go pick up some more groceries. I used the rest of the almond milk this morning.”

You twisted your body so you could peer over the back of the couch at him, squinting your eyes in contempt as he nonchalantly sauntered to the cabinet for a glass to drink from. “So it sounds like you should go get some since you keep using it all.”

He waved a dismissive hand at you while he ran the cup under the tap. “Yeah, but now it gives you something to do!” 

His head tipped back to take a quick swig before dumping the remaining liquid into the sink. You watched him continue to rush through the room, smiling at him stuffing his belongings in his pockets. “I’ll be back later tonight,” he promised. 

“Call me if I need to pick you up.” 

It was sincere, your offer. It was something you always said on nights like these, before he left for his next outing and you knew he’d probably be under the influence. He rarely took you up on it, always making friends with whoever remained sober enough to take him home, but he knew the offer still stood. 

He also knew how you’d more than likely be asleep by the time he was ready to come home, and he wanted to avoid interrupting your slumber. 

“Yes, mother,” he quipped, finally making his way to the door. He paused before stepping outside, long enough to shoot you a genuine smile and playful wink. “Bye, y/n.”

The break in his sarcasm made your face warm for the umpteenth time tonight. “Bye, Sammy. Have fun.”

The door was already shutting behind him as you heard him call out a faint “You too!”

And with a click of the latch, you were left alone in the living room you shared with your best friend, the soap opera on TV your only company. 

————

Hours passed with no word from Sammy. You could imagine the fun he was having while you stayed glued to the cushion you sat on. You could see his smile as he flaunted his charisma to whoever would listen. How his pinkie would swipe across the bottom of his cup while he connected with the other partygoers. You knew he was having a good time, but for some reason, you still felt uneasy. 

Your phone would wake you up if he called, but the idea of something happening to him while you were asleep worried you more than anything. It was your goal to stay awake for as long as possible, and you tried to do anything that would help you achieve that goal. 

You hoped that a snack would give you more energy to endure the night, but you still found yourself dozing off. You even cycled through various channels whenever you felt your eyelids getting heavy, abandoning the series Sam left you with for a marathon of cheesy holiday romance movies. 

It wasn’t long before you got bored with those though, the storylines much too repetitive and predictive. Soon enough, you couldn’t find an interest in guessing who the main protagonist would end up with or what the overall resolution would be. 

But right before you let yourself succumb to your drowsiness, you heard the front door slowly open. You let yourself glance over at the doorway, the dim silhouette of Sammy barely visible from the soft light of the television. 

He smiled once he saw you move, indicating he was waiting to see if you were awake before he spoke. “Hey.”

You returned the smile as a greeting, wiping at your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. “You’re back already?” you asked through a yawn. 

“Don’t sound too excited.” He was smirking through his jesting, shrugging as he continued. “Party was lame, came back to crash this one.”

“Oh yeah, you certainly crashed this party. Soap opera and all.” You rolled your eyes at him, an action that seemed to be routine no matter what you were talking about. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t have anyone join you for such a titillating experience.”

He was practically dripping in sarcasm, but that made you feel that much more endeared by him. He still hadn’t moved from where he stood, perched against the wall across the room. It looked as if he were studying you, surveying to see just how good your comebacks would be. 

You shrugged. “No one wanted to gossip with me while they got their nails painted.”

You thought your response was funny, inspiration coming back from his earlier quip, but he looked past the humor. His face contorted into something that resembled disbelief, and in one swift motion, he pushed off of the wall and crossed the distance to you. 

“Are you joking? I’ll volunteer!” He tossed his wallet and keys on the coffee table in front of you. 

“Sam, what-”

“I’ll be right back.” And before you could ask anything further, he had disappeared into the bathroom. You heard him rummaging around in the drawers and cabinets before he came back into view, clutching all of the nail polish and supplies you own. “I didn’t know what colors you’d want so I brought the whole thing.”

“Me?”

He gives you a sideways glance, as if you both had been planning to do this all night. “Yeah? You’re gonna let me do yours too, right?”

“I- I dunno.” It seemed valid to be slightly taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm for such an activity. It felt strange for him to even want his nails painted, even more so for him to want to do the work to paint yours. 

“Oh come on, it’s only fair!”

He placed the various bottles on the coffee table before sitting on the cushion beside you, never looking away from you so he could further drive his point. Chipping away at your resolve, piece by piece. 

You raised an eyebrow at him incredulously. “Sam, have you ever painted someone’s nails before?”

“I painted my sister’s once for a dance,” he said with a shrug, turning so his body was facing you and his legs were tucked under each other. He continued once he noticed your criticism was still intact. “She didn’t ask me to do her nails after that.”

“Then no!” You laughed. “What color do you want?”

His persuasion didn’t stop there. He perused your collection of bright hues and dark shades, finally landing on a light green polish as his choice. “You’ve got to let me at least try!” 

You decided to ignore his statement for the chance to poke fun at his selection. You twisted the bottle in your hand, looking at the liquid with judgment. “Snot green? Really?”

He shrugged. “It looks like Sadie.”

Sadie. The neon pothos plant that sat on a table in the corner of the living room, soaking up the morning sun that would peek through the curtains. It was something you came across during a trip to the local farmer’s market. A plant that was so low maintenance but somehow barely hanging on when you first laid eyes on it. Sammy had insisted that you buy it so you both could nurse it back to health, and within minutes, he was carrying it to the car and discussing potential names for the ‘child’ you now parented together. 

The color of the polish did match the plant’s leaves almost perfectly, now that you thought about it, but you had never made that comparison before. It didn’t seem like a color one would want on their nails, hence why it was mostly full and barely used. 

You shook your head at him while you twisted to face him, mimicking his position as you shook the bottle in your hands. 

“What do I do with these buckaroos?” Sam asked, his hands waving around wildly. 

You grabbed his hands just as he began to shoot finger guns at you. “Calm down, cowboy,” you said through a laugh. “Just- here.” 

Searching for the best placement for his hands, you finally decided to place one on your knee and the other on your ankle. You tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach from his hands on your bare skin. 

“I can’t believe you just referred to your hands as buckaroos,” you teased under your breath. 

The taunt earned you a squeeze to your knee from Sam, who knew the tickling sensation would make you giggle. “Don’t act like you’re too cool for me, y/n,” he warned. “You’re the one who spends your Friday nights watching… whatever this is.”

You followed his eyes to the TV screen, focusing just as the characters had just shared a passionate kiss in the snow, its artificiality painfully obvious. 

You returned your attention to the task at hand, readying the brush for the first stroke on his nail. “And you’re the one who abandoned your sick party to get your nails done.”

He scoffed, but in the end, he remained silent. And you took that as a win. 

Doing someone else’s nails is much different than doing your own. It takes more focus, awareness of the other individual’s movements and tremors, and precision to get the task done just right. But luckily for you, Sammy didn’t squirm as much as you thought he would. He remained perfectly still so you could finish pretty quickly. 

When the polish dried - thankfully not too long after you completed it - you smiled at the job well done, glancing up to the boy in front of you to tell him you were finished. 

“That’s it? Oh, this should be easy, then.” He lifted his hands to eye level, grinning to himself as he surveyed the results. He leaned over to the other polishes on the table. “What color do you want?”

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

“In that case-” His decision was quick, and before you knew it, he was smirking at you and brandishing the same bottle of polish you had used on him just moments prior. 

“Oh, not the snot, Samuel. You must hate me,” you huffed through a laugh. 

“You don’t want to match me and Sadie? It’ll be like we’re one big happy family!” He seemed too excited for his own good, even if you were only half joking about denying him. And who were you to disappoint your best friend?

So you didn’t. You let him continue with the plan he was so enthusiastic about, watching as he eagerly unscrewed the top and got to work. 

He had trouble finding the most practical placement of your hands, on top of the logistics of keeping the polish close without it being in the way. He tried to use the same technique as you, but it didn’t seem to be comfortable enough for him. Ultimately, you ended up holding the bottle in the hand not being painted while your other was held in his own. 

With the proximity, you allowed yourself to take in the details of the scene. How his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes barely crossed in concentration. How the tip of his tongue would peek from his lips as he swiped the brush near your cuticles, careful to keep it as neat as possible. How his nose would twitch ever so slightly as if that was the only movement he could spare for the time being. 

You also noticed some of his long, brunette locks threaten to shift from behind his ear, and you knew he was itching to tuck them back into place. Even his fingers were trembling a little, making you wonder if the task - despite being completely unnecessary - had made him a little more nervous than he let on. 

It all would’ve made you giggle to yourself if you weren’t ordered to stay as still as possible. 

“Stop staring at me to distract me.”

You tore your gaze from your conjoined hands to glance up at him again. It felt as if you had been caught in a bad lie, although it would be completely normal to ‘stare’ in this scenario. 

Smugly, you answered with “I’m not.”

It wasn’t a lie. Maybe you were looking a little too intensely, but you were definitely not doing it to distract him. God forbid your nails actually look as if they were covered in slime. 

“Well,” he said after rolling his eyes at you. “Stop it” 

That made you giggle. The sense of frustration in his voice that you couldn’t quite find the basis of. He sounded almost like a child telling a bully to leave them alone. 

“Do I make you nervous?”

You were mainly joking when you asked the question. Of course you’d like to know if there was even the slightest possibility that you affected him in such a way, but you weren’t brave enough to ask without the sarcasm. 

But there was something about it that made him pause, the hesitation barely noticeable as he quickly returned to his duties. 

“You wish,” he mumbled. “I just can’t concentrate when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Shh,” he cut you off with a swat to your thigh, his own giggles filling the space. “You’re moving too much.”

You glared at him with a halfhearted pout, frustrated at his impeccable ability to change the subject so quickly. Deciding you’d lean into the childish act, you pointedly closed your eyes. “I just won’t look at you at all.”

Maybe you were being a little juvenile, but where’s the fun in maturity? 

It would’ve been within his rights to get annoyed with you, but instead, you could sense Sam’s head shaking in feigned disapproval. His voice was almost fond as he chastised you. “You are infuriating.” 

Eventually, after a few beats of silence between you both, you felt him twist the cap back into the bottle and remove it from your hand. You waited until after you heard the soft clink of the glass being set back on the coffee table. Deciding he had probably had enough of your act, you peeked open your eyes, chancing to stand down and let him win whatever game you were playing. 

What you didn’t expect was to see his lips pursed and approaching your fingers he still held in his hand. You felt your stomach twist into a knot of anticipation and nerves, but it immediately loosened with the realization of what he was actually doing.

Sam blew a cool stream of air on your nails, drying the wet polish more efficiently. The sensation made you giggle softly to yourself, relief bubbling from you.

He paused his actions upon hearing the noise. “What?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but once his lips returned to his previous action, you dissolved into another fit of giggles.

“Y/n, what is so funny?”

“It’s stupid, really,” you squeaked in between laughs, shaking your head in an effort to compose yourself and dissuade his interest in your hysterics. Seeing his raised eyebrow, though, proved you were unsuccessful. “I just- it looked like you were gonna kiss my hand, with the way you had your… nevermind. Just forget it.”

Although you started your explanation with confidence, seeing his expression turn from confusion into something more devious made you second-guess yourself. If anything, you expected him to laugh it off and continue what he was doing. You did not expect him to look almost… curious. 

It was as if you had taken him by surprise, but his initial shock had mixed with intrigue. His mouth opened, but closed to form a knowing smirk before huffing a laugh. “If you wanted me to kiss your hand, you could’ve just asked.”

Although you tried to remain unphased by his words, the teasing quality of them made your cheeks flame. “And why would I want that?”

A simple shrug was all you received as an answer before he resumed the task, looking up at you with coy eyes and feigned innocence while air fanned over your fingertips. You noted that his lips were significantly closer to your hands now. 

Attempting to regain your footing, you tried to come up with a quip of your own. “I think you’re projecting,” you accused with a humorless laugh. 

He rewarded you with an eye roll, a reaction you were hoping for. You hoped he would leave it at that, move on from the subject so you could have the last word. Instead, he added, “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it before.”

“About what?”

He chuckled. “About kissing me.”

You could only manage to scoff at him, in utter disbelief at where this conversation had gone. It was supposed to be a joke, just something else for you to share a laugh about. But now, he seemed completely serious. But he couldn’t be, could he? Not about something that would cross every unspoken boundary of your friendship. 

And even if he was serious, you’d still never tell him the truth. You’d never tell him that yes you have thought about it, plenty of times. And you’d certainly never tell him that your thoughts have traveled further than just a simple kiss. Not about how convenient it would be to slip into his room when you’re lonely and searching for affection at night. How easy it would be to ease into a routine of spending countless nights cuddled up together, whispering sweet nothings and nuzzling into each other as you leave kisses across whatever skin you had access to. 

He was just your best friend, but living in the same residence had only given you a taste of domesticity with him. The resistance to acknowledge your attraction was only made worse when you saw him with messy hair from a good night’s rest or bare-chested after his showers. His charm was inescapable now that he was almost always around you, but his natural flirtiness always made you question if you should try to escape. Or if you should consider leaning into the feelings that were brewing for him.

Of course, in an act of self-preservation, you made yourself avoid and ignore any pining you had ever experienced for him. 

But you would never tell him any of that.

“Would it help you admit it if I told you I’ve thought about it?” The question broke the silence that had unintentionally settled between you. He could tell that you were thinking about something, and he liked the thought that he was the cause of your contemplation. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction, though.

Once again, you tried to laugh it off. To stall and push another joke to escape the situation you had somehow gotten yourself into. “Of course, you’d think about kissing yourself, you egomaniac.”

For a moment, you thought you won, taking his laughter as a good sign. But you should’ve known better. “No, doofus. Kissing you.”

And just like that, the breath was stolen from your lungs. You couldn’t laugh anymore. You couldn’t roll your eyes. You couldn’t run from this. Not anymore. 

Of course, you knew what he meant as soon as he said it, but something in you wanted to deny it and continue with your avoidance. But with it in the open, obvious and crystal clear, there was nothing left for you to do but face it. 

“I’ve thought about it since the first day in Comms,” he started again, this time a little more hesitant and cautious. 

The mention of the communications class almost made you wince - an introductory public speaking course that was required for all students to take. You dreaded signing up for it, and your hatred for public speaking persisted even after you passed with flying colors. But luckily for you, something good had come out of that class, other than a boosted GPA. 

It was how you met Sammy, after all. Paired together for a collaborative project, you both bonded over your disdain for the class. As opposed to you, though, he actually seemed to have confidence when he’d present.

“You’d always chew on your bottom lip before it was your time to speak. That’s how I knew you were nervous,” he continued. The mention of your anxious habits made you realize you were currently doing exactly what he was speaking of: biting at your lip to quell the nerves. “You were nervous, but it was like you owned the room, when you got up there. Your passion was… unmatched.”

He seemed to be talking to himself as he reminisced, marveling at something you had never noticed about yourself. You saw him look down at your fingers that he still held in his hands, the nail polish surely dried by now. He had no reason for his grasp to persist, but he continued for the sake of fidgeting and toying with your hand as if it were natural to him. He huffed a laugh before he resumed.

“We were always assigned stupid topics, but even then, I couldn’t look away. And when I tried to focus and pay attention to the content you were talking about, I’d always get distracted looking at your lips… So yeah, I’ve thought about it a bit.” He spoke quietly, another breath of nervous laughter to punctuate. He chanced a look back at you, softening as he saw your watchful eyes on him. “You’re blushing, and that makes me think about it even more.”

It wasn’t until he pointed it out that you realized your cheeks were warmer than usual. You tore your eyes away from him and back down to his fingers.

He was right. Hearing his admission made you want to concede as well. And a deep breath was all you had to take before you muttered your own confession. “...I’ve thought about it too.”

“Will you let me then?” He didn’t miss a beat, seemingly eager to get the question out.

“Sammy…”

“Just once? Just to satisfy our curiosity?” His hands gripped tighter to yours, now completely holding onto them as if they were his lifeline. “And if you don’t like it, we don’t have to talk about this ever again. It’ll be like it never happened.

The sheer anticipation that was building in his voice made it obvious that he was being genuine, that he truly wanted this. But you still hesitated. 

If something happened during the kiss, if he realized he didn’t like it as much as he expected, you’d still have to deal with the consequences. You may not talk about it, like he promised, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t bother him. As tempting as the offer was, you didn’t want to risk your friendship for a moment’s worth of satisfaction. 

But it wasn’t that likely with a single kiss, right?

“...Just once,” you finally settled, speaking before you realized your mouth was even open.

You expected him to jump on the opportunity as soon as you gave him your consent, hungry and desperate to avoid you going back on your word. But instead, he was gentle, cautious in how he approached you. 

He held a grin as he placed his hands on your cheeks, the skin of his palms somewhat clammy from being in contact with yours for so long. You watched with bated breath as he inched closer to you, trying to give you plenty of time to back out. But once he realized that you wouldn’t, he let go of all reserves.

Kissing him was a little different than you had expected. You imagined stiff and awkward, unnatural and abnormal. You imagined your lips as puzzle pieces of the same cut, destined to be in each other’s company but not necessarily made for one another. You imagined feeling icky and wrong before, during, and after the kiss ensued. 

But this… this was unlike anything you could’ve possibly prepared for. This was easy. This was comfortable. 

Out of your fair share of kisses, this was undeniably your favorite. And out of all of the ‘first’ kisses with anyone, you knew they could never compare to this. 

It felt as if you melted into Sammy’s mouth, instantly falling under a spell that caused you to dissolve into nothingness. He wasn’t forceful in his approach, he didn’t try to take over, he didn’t proceed in a manner to coax more from you. He simply kissed you to revel in the moment. Just for the sake of kissing. 

But just like all good moments, it came to an end much too quickly. The separation felt forced, as if he was reluctant to pull away from you. Which might have been why he didn’t put too much space between you when your lips disconnected. His hands fell from your face, landing to rest on your knees, but you were still mere inches from one another. 

“Good?” He mumbled.

All you could do was nod, much too entranced in all things him. How he smelled, how his hands felt on you, how he kept shifting his gaze from your eyes to your lips. 

He was holding back, trying to keep his promise of “just one kiss.” It was obvious to you that he didn’t want to overstep, that he was trying to follow your lead. But that kiss had sparked an overwhelming desire within you both, and you simply did not have as much restraint as he. All it took was one more fleeting glance at your lips before you found yourself leaning in to meet his again. 

This time, you could feel his smile, the remainder of a laugh huffing from his nostrils. He seemed to find amusement in your desperation. 

Although you quickly felt yourself falling into another daze, you were hyper-focused on Sam’s hands. Their placement. The way they had involuntarily twitched as soon as you kissed him again. How they had started to move up your thighs. How the tips of his fingers brushed under the fabric of your pajama shorts as they traveled upward and kneaded your skin. It wasn’t long before they found your hips and tugged. 

You were in his lap before you knew it, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you tried to balance the push and pull of the kiss that immediately deepened. A gentle nip to your bottom lip caused a soft moan to tremble from you, making him chuckle and pull away again. 

“Don’t get too carried away,” he mumbled against your lips, rushing to place additional pecks on the corner of your mouth. 

You tried to match the sarcasm evident in his tone. “No, I’d never.” 

“What happened to just one?” 

“I’d ask the same to you- oh.” His lips had managed to travel down your neck, and a bite to your collarbone had led to your quip drawing out into a whine. 

Kisses turned into lips lazily dragging across skin, soft grunts turned to deep, ragged pants. He was letting you take what you wanted from him, what you needed. He didn’t mind that you were unabashedly whimpering into his neck, he didn’t even poke fun at how your hunger had caused your hips to grind against him. It only spurred him on that much more.   

His head tipped back as he let out a groan, muttering a simple “Christ...” as if he were begging the deity to give him strength.

You didn’t imagine God would be too happy with the acts being committed, if he were looking down on you right now, but Sammy’s plea seemed to work. His hands stilled your hips as he shifted, and promptly, you were lying on your back with him hovering over you. 

You were feeling bold, and sure in your actions. So when his fingertips graced the bare skin that resided under the hem of your shirt, you let him remove it from you. But when he bent to kiss you again, you felt the cool metal of his necklace against your chest, and you soon felt much too exposed.

He felt your body stiffen, and he immediately ceased his actions. “Y/n, what-” he stopped his question as soon as he broke away from you. You had covered yourself and shielded away from his gaze, making him realize just what had caused your apprehension. “Don’t do that. Let me see you.”

Your wrists were bound in his hand and pinned into the cushion above you, a quick move that made you gasp and blush a deeper shade. His pupils were dilated, stare as stoney as ever while he admired you. There wasn’t a hint of disappointment in his expression, but the attention made you more nervous than anything. Your only refuge was to hide your face in the pillows cushioning the back of the couch. 

But, of course, he didn’t allow that. After a sound of disapproval, you were pulled into another deep kiss. One that left you dizzy after he pulled away.

“Stop hiding from me, okay?” He spoke softly in your ear, careful to not sound too demanding or harsh. “It’s just you and me right now. You’re okay.”

You sighed as he pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, the hand not serving as your restraint moving back down your body to hitch one of your legs onto his hip. “Friends don’t do this, Sammy. I don’t want to lose you.”

You felt silly to be worried about such a thing when it all seemed to be one-sided, but the thought of losing him after a spur-of-the-moment decision made your stomach twist. It wouldn’t be worth it to you.

Without hesitation, he pulled away both of his hands from their previous jobs, letting them rest on your face to caress your cheeks. 

“You’d have to be more than stupid to think you’re gonna lose me after this,” he assured, letting his eyes rake across your features with sincerity. His thumb swiped across your bottom lip just as he added, “And to think that we’re just friends.” 

With his confession from earlier still hanging in the air, you shouldn’t have been as stunned by his words as you were. You wanted to believe him, but there was still uncertainty behind the thin line you so desperately wanted to cross. You could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into the worries that clouded your mind-

Hey-” he interrupted your mental anguish, waiting until he had your full attention and eyes on him. “Do you want me?”

You sighed, hoping to let go of the nerves that plagued you. “You know I do.”

Sammy smiled at the admission, seemingly more pleased now that you had said the words out loud. “Then you have me. In every way, baby. I’m yours.” 

Yours. There was something so intimate about the statement, him placing himself in your possession. The knowledge that you would exist in his world, even when you were apart. It was more than you could ask for, yet everything you wanted. 

The desire bloomed within you, and soon, you were no longer anxious to be displayed in front of him. Your fingers desperately clawed into the front of his shirt, pulling him back down to meet your lips again. It only took one tug at its hem to encourage its removal. 

You sucked in a gasp at the feeling of his bare chest pressed against yours, a noise quickly swallowed down by the man hovering above you.

He seemed to be making up for lost time, each kiss telling a tale of its own and bringing you closer to him. Eventually, his lips traveled to graze the shell of your ear. 

“What do you want?” 

You sighed, the warm air against you sending shivers down your spine as you answered. “Your mouth.”

Without hesitation, he shifted and repositioned himself between your legs. His fingers looped under the band of your sleep shorts and panties, and after receiving a silent nod from you, he worked them both down your legs. His nose crinkled with a snicker, amused by your wiggling attempts to help him remove the garments. He tossed them to the floor and placed a gentle kiss to your navel as he moved to lay on his stomach.

The first flick of his tongue was languid, slow as if he were savoring the taste of you on his tongue. But soon enough, he found his footing and increased his intensity rather than speed. 

You must’ve cried out at the feeling. Sam’s eyes had flickered up to you, peering through his lashes while he worked between your thighs. You were already lost in the haze of pleasure he was sharing with you. His wide, lust-filled eyes looking at you in awe, his hands splayed around your thighs and holding you steady, his perfectly sculpted nose dipping in and out of sight as the tip grazed against your clit. It was something you’d always imagined, but never believed would be right before you. 

Your hand had traveled to his hair at some point, unbeknownst to you. Every tug causing a low hum to rumble from his stomach and against your skin, drawing you closer and closer each time. 

You could feel it. The crest of the horizon in sight and in reach. But just as you were about to chase it, your fingers tightening in his hair, he pulled away with a lewd pop. The sound was soft, but audible enough to make your cheeks warm. Your frustration quickly surpassed any feelings of embarrassment.

Your head had been tipped back, and in the process of snapping your gaze back to him - ready to whine about his teasing - his lips crashed into yours again.

You couldn’t help but moan at the taste on his lips, a concoction that had only become more sinful as he savored you. 

He was distracted, his mind drifting somewhere else while he kissed you. You could feel movement, as if he were rummaging through a crowded drawer for a specific item. The nerves that you had successfully shoved away stormed back to you, filling you with worry all over again. You gently broke away from the kiss, desperate to see what had occupied him so suddenly. 

His hand was out of sight, in the pocket of his denim jacket that had been tossed haphazardly across the back of the couch. You heard the crinkle of a foil wrapper, and soon enough, he removed a small square package from the jacket. 

The sight of the condom made your cheeks flush and your throat tighten, but you weren’t exactly sure why. It only took a few weeks of living with Sam to know all you needed to about his sexual habits. It made sense for him to bring a condom to a college party. But that didn’t stop the pang of jealousy in the pit of your stomach from the thought of his hands on someone else. He had never expected that you’d be the one under him tonight. 

“You okay?”

His voice brought you out of the envy-induced haze you were in. You met his eyes, carefully studying you to make sure he hadn’t already messed up what had barely even started. You looked past your doubts and nodded in response, reaching for him to give you the condom. 

He trusted you to tell him if something was wrong, but he gave a look of warning before handing the condom over to you. You knew he was not going to let this go, but you were thankful that he pushed it under the rug for now. You were much too embarrassed to discuss it now. 

Sam was already working on unbuttoning his pants by the time you looked at the foil package in your hands. 

“Didn't think you’d be a Magnum kinda guy,” you taunted under your breath, hoping to bring a sense of lightheartedness to the situation. 

Instead, his hand was wrapped around your wrist in an instant, the sudden movement making you let out a noise of surprise. He pulled your hand away from its task and positioned it so the thin layer of his briefs was the only thing between him and your palm. 

The thought made you shiver, but your cheeks burned from your previous taunt.

“Oh…”

He smirked at you, only a little proud of himself for making you discount your teasing. But through the smugness, you could sense a hint of bashfulness. And an attempt to remain humble through the ego boost you provided him. 

You fiddled with the package as soon as you were released from his grasp, making quick work of tearing it open and retrieving its contents. By the time you finished, he had removed the remaining articles of his clothing. 

You didn’t look up at him, and you tried to not hesitate to take him in your hand. 

You relished in the way his silken skin felt against yours as you slowly began to roll the condom down his length. A soft moan escaped him, a sound of sheer disbelief and utter pleasure. His stare was unwavering, watching your every move. But once you tilted your head to look at him, he was already in the motion of leaning to kiss you again. 

He used it as a chance to lay you back down and get you comfortable, using one of his arms to hold himself up and hover over you. 

“Please let me know if something needs to change or if you want to stop, okay?” He panted, resting his forehead against yours. “I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

A loving smile crept on your lips as you nodded to him, giving a quick kiss to his cheek as affirmation. 

He didn’t pull away to align himself with you. Instead, his cheek was pressed against yours as he slipped inside you, a low groan rumbling right at the shell of your ear. 

At some point, your hands had wrapped around his forearms as a way to ground yourself. Your loosening grip was the only signal he needed before he began a slow, steady pace. 

You tried to focus on the feeling of it all – the way his hips rolled against yours, the delicious tension that each thrust added, the grunts that would slip from his parted lips. But you couldn’t get past the simple fact that this was really happening. After all this time of imagining yourself with him, it was real. And it was so much better than you could’ve fantasized. 

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him as close as possible and praying that he wouldn’t disappear. As if he were promising that he wouldn’t, he nuzzled further into your neck. The intoxicating drag of his lips against your skin made you whine, digging your nails into his back as if it were a reflex.

Sam sucked in a breath at the feeling, but before you could worry that you had hurt him, you heard a chuckle.

“Easy, baby,” he warned with a smile, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes. His had already flickered down to your lips before he continued. “Don’t wanna mess up your nails.”

It amazed you how easily he was able to bring you back down. Even in this situation, he grounded you and reminded you that he was your best friend. And all it took was a wink and a bit of banter. 

He grasped the back of your knee, hitching it to his side and pushing even deeper into you. The new angle successfully drawing a mewl from you and pulling you out of your romanticized thoughts.

A hum of satisfaction shook from him, almost sounding like a hungry growl as his smirk widened. “Right there? Is that where my pretty girl likes it?”

Everything about the question flustered you, the phrasing, the pet name, the tone. You were nodding your head before you even realized you were responding. 

“Just like that, yeah?” He continued. “Fuck…you feel so good.”

If it wasn’t for his pace faltering and his stumbling over his words, he might’ve been able to hide the fact that he was already close. Not that you wanted him to hide it, of course. Seeing him like this was everything you had wanted and more. 

Sammy released the grip he had on your leg, his hand soon disappearing between you two. His thumb circled your clit with fervent hunger, as if he were desperate to see you writhe under him. The action made you cry out, his name slipping from your parted lips as a soft whimper. 

“Shhh…I know, baby,” he reassured. He smoothed a hand across your cheekbone to wipe a stray tear before it could fall. “God, you look- so fucking gorgeous.”

He was speaking out loud now, voicing each of his thoughts as a way to bring himself closer. He wasn’t looking for a response, but the sentence rang through your ears the entire time he was above you. 

The sound of each quickening thrust, the way his forearm tensed while he touched you, his hair shifting with every movement and deep breath. It all fueled the fire in your abdomen, and soon enough, you felt your muscles tighten. 

He talked you through your orgasm with filthy words and sultry praise, coaxing you to give in to the pleasure and enjoy it for what it’s worth. His own climax cut off his encouragement, though, and with a huff, his head dropped as the pleasure overtook him. His body trembled with each remaining thrust, and as much as you wished you could watch him at his peak, your eyes were squeezed shut. 

It took a while for you to come down from your highs, but eventually, his hips had stilled, and you had no choice but to be reined back in. You could hear that his breathing matched yours - deep, quivering breaths that shook throughout your bodies. 

When you opened your eyes, you saw him smirking down at you, a cocky smile that was still kind and gentle in its own way. His free hand had settled on your thigh, his thumb sweeping across the skin to bring you back to him. 

His chest was still heaving, and you could see stray marks up and down his torso and arms from you unknowingly clawing at him. Past the hints of your embarrassment, you sensed a feeling of pride. Seeing him above you, with marks that you made. It was as if you staked a claim on him, a mark of unspoken territory. 

He was yours. No one else’s. 

The thought made your smile widen. 

Sammy chuckled at you, bending down to place a kiss on your jaw. “What’s all that for?”

With a laugh, you shook your head, not wanting to give him the benefit of knowing what was going on in your mind. 

His teeth grazed against your neck before he began to leave sloppy kisses on your jugular. He only paused briefly to pull out from you, muttering a quick curse under his breath and returning his lips to your skin. 

Your fingers had found their way back to his hair, playing with the locks of brunette while his kisses covered every inch of your neck. 

As he reached the shell of your ear, he rasped a whisper. “Can I stay with you tonight?” 

The question made your heart skip, but instead of letting it show, you grinned at him. “You already live here, Sammy.”

He pulled away from you, lightly slapping your thigh. “Don’t give me that, you know what I mean.” 

“Ohhh, you mean in my room,” you said sarcastically, giggling as he rolled his eyes. You waited until his eyebrows raised expectantly before you stopped playing coy. “After you shower. You stink.”

He faked a frown at you before his smile broke through, laughing at your teasing. “If I’m taking a shower, you’re coming with me.”

He had already begun shuffling off the couch so he could stand. You instinctively crossed your arms over your chest, partially to cover yourself, but also to keep up the act that you had going. 

“Why do I have to come shower with you?” 

For a moment, he looked puzzled, almost as if he believed that you didn’t want to follow him. “Maybe 'cause I’ll miss you if you don’t.”

It was meant to be a joke, but you could see in his eyes that deep down, he really meant it. You were going to go with him anyways, but hearing his excuse made you blush. 

“Sammy…” you paused, searching for the right response for something so silly. It was a small phrase, but you could sense the immense amount of truth behind it. “You’re so…soft.” 

He smiled down at you, annoyed but enamored by your playfulness. “Anddd you’re done,” he warned, grabbing your wrist to pull you off the couch to your feet. “Come on, up you go.”

“Easy baby,” you mocked, repeating his words from earlier. You were in a fit of giggles as he tugged you to the bathroom. “Don’t wanna mess up your nails.”

Ahead of you, he huffed a sigh. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

You didn’t have to see him to know that he rolled his eyes at you again. He stopped in front of the bathroom door and opened it, placing a gentle hand on your back to usher you inside. “Yeah…I do.”

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