Latest Posts by no-other-mashter - Page 3

Market Girl

This is my very first fic so thank you for reading! 🫶🏻💐

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Fluff

It was a bright and bustling Saturday morning at the farmers' market. The air was filled with the aroma of fresh produce and baked goods, mingling with the lively chatter of vendors and shoppers. I found myself drawn to a booth displaying an array of handmade jewelry. As I admired a delicate necklace adorned with a small, shimmering gemstone, I heard a voice behind me.

“That necklace would look amazing on you,” the voice said.

I turned around, surprised to see a tall, attractive guy with long brown hair and warm brown eyes standing there, a playful smile on his face. For a moment, I was taken aback by his presence, but his warm, easygoing demeanor quickly put me at ease.

“Thank you,” I replied, smiling back. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Sam,” he said, extending his hand. His grip was firm but gentle, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest.

Looking back down at the necklace, Sam nodded towards it. "Are you going to buy that?" he asked curiously.

I nodded, "I think so. I have an outfit that would go perfectly with it."

After I made the purchase, Sam offered with a charming grin, "Would you like some help putting it on?"

I laughed softly, touched by his gesture. "Sure, that would be great."

As Sam delicately fastened the necklace around my neck, his fingers brushed against my neck, sending a subtle jolt of electricity through me. It was a simple moment, but it felt surprisingly intimate.

After turning around, Sam spoke up, breaking the silence. “Would you like to keep me company while I walk through the market?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” I said, feeling a thrill of excitement at the prospect of spending time with him.

We strolled from booth to booth, chatting and laughing as if we’d known each other for years. Sam’s enthusiasm for the simple pleasures of the market was infectious. He seemed genuinely interested in everything, from the handmade soaps to the fresh berries, and his easygoing nature made him incredibly easy to talk to.

At one point, we stopped at a flower stand, where a vibrant array of blooms created a riot of color. Sam picked out a small bouquet of wildflowers and handed them to me with a shy smile. “For you,” he said softly.

“Thank you, Sam,” I said, touched by the sweet gesture. The flowers were beautiful, their colors bright and cheerful.

Later, we stopped at a coffee stand. Sam turned to me with a smile. “How about a coffee?”

“Sounds great,” I agreed.

As I reached for my wallet to pay for mine, Sam quickly handed over the money to pay for the both of us. “This one’s on me,” he said with a wink.

“Thank you,” I said, touched by the gesture. We found a small table and sat down with our coffees, the conversation flowing effortlessly. He told me about how he was in a band with his brothers and their best friend, who explained was practically a brother too. He explained that they were finally gaining some popularity and have been playing at different bars around town. I nodded, genuinely intrigued.

“That sounds incredible,” I admitted, taking a sip of my coffee before adding, “I'm also passionate about music, but my day job is as a barista.” I felt a pang of embarrassment, fearing my life seemed mundane compared to his exciting musical journey.

He leaned forward, his expression earnest. “Are you kidding? Being a barista sounds amazing,” he said sincerely, his eyes lighting up. “You get to be around coffee all day, which is practically magic in a cup. Plus, I bet you meet all sorts of interesting people.” His warmth reassured me, and I found myself smiling back at him, feeling understood and appreciated.

An hour flew by in what felt like minutes. Realizing I needed to get home, I stood up reluctantly. “I should probably get going,” I said.

“Can I get your number?” Sam asked, looking hopeful. “I’d love to see you again.”

“Of course,” I replied, handing him my phone. He entered his number and sent a quick text to mine so I’d have his.

When I got home, my phone buzzed with a new message.

Sam: I really enjoyed spending the afternoon with you. Would love to do it again sometime.

I smiled, typing back a response.

Y/N: I’d love that too. Thank you for keeping me company today :)

Days passed without hearing from Sam, and I began to wonder if he had lost interest. The following weekend, unable to shake the feeling, I sent him another message.

Y/N: Been thinking about our afternoon at the market. Any chance you’re free to see each other again?

His response was immediate.

Sam: I was hoping to hear from you! Actually, I wanted to invite you to a show tonight. The guys and I are playing at Rhythm & Roots. Are you interested?

My heart raced with excitement as I typed back.

Y/N: I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

That evening, I took my time getting ready, savoring each moment as I prepared for what I hoped would be an unforgettable night. I chose a band t-shirt; its faded logo a nod to my love for live music. Layering it with a well-worn leather jacket and a pair of black jeans, I felt a sense of comfort and confidence in my attire.

When I arrived at the bar, the band was just going on stage. The dim lighting and the buzz of the crowd added to the atmosphere as I found a spot near the stage. My eyes were immediately drawn to Sam, who looked effortlessly cool with his bass slung low. His passion for the music was evident in every note he played, and I couldn't help but admire how he seemed to lose himself in the rhythm.

Throughout the show, Sam kept stealing glances in my direction, and each time our eyes met, a subtle smile would play on his lips. I found myself captivated, unable to tear my eyes away from him. The electricity between us was palpable, heightened by the music that filled the air and the shared anticipation of what the night might bring.

As the last song faded into applause, Sam made his way towards me through the crowd. His eyes held a hint of excitement and warmth as he approached, and I felt a rush of anticipation. Without hesitation, he enveloped me in a big hug.

"Hey," he said warmly, pulling back slightly to look at me. "I'm so glad you could make it. Did you enjoy the show?"

I nodded, feeling a rush of excitement and relief that he seemed just as happy to see me as I was to see him. "Yeah, you guys were amazing up there. You have such a stage presence."

"Thanks," he replied modestly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned. "It means a lot coming from you."

We stood there for a moment, the sounds of the bar swirling around us as people congratulated the band and moved around us. There was an undeniable chemistry between us, a connection that seemed to deepen with every shared glance and exchanged word.

"I was hoping we could grab a drink and talk some more," Sam said, his tone hopeful yet casual.

"I'd love that," I replied, matching his smile. "Lead the way."

As Sam guided me towards a quieter corner of the bar, his brothers made their way over to where we were sitting. Sam introduced me to each of them with pride evident in his voice.

"Hey, this is Josh," Sam began, gesturing towards the curly-haired guy with a big smile. "He's my older brother and Jake's twin."

I stood up and he enveloped me in a warm hug before I could extend my hand. "Nice to meet you! So, you're the market girl Sam won't stop talking about," he said teasingly, making me blush.

Next was Jake, Sam's other older brother, who had a striking resemblance to Sam with his long brown hair. He gave me a friendly handshake, his eyes curious as he studied me. "Sam's mentioned you," he remarked, his voice slightly softer, hinting at a reserved yet genuine interest.

Last was Danny, introduced as Sam's best friend and "bonus brother." Towering over the others with his tall frame and long curly hair, Danny greeted me with a bear hug. "Sam's told me a lot about you," he said warmly.

After the introductions, we settled into a cozy booth with drinks in hand. Josh, with his theatrical personality, regaled us with animated stories that had us all laughing.

"You won't believe what happened at our last gig," Josh exclaimed, his gestures adding to the drama of his tale. "Jake was on fire, doing his thing, playing guitar behind his head like a rockstar. The crowd was eating it up!"

Jake grinned, a hint of pride evident in his expression. "Yeah, it's my signature move," he admitted with a shrug.

"Until this one time," Danny interjected with a chuckle, "when his guitar strap got tangled up in his hair!"

The table erupted into laughter, imagining the scene.

"It was like a rock 'n roll version of a hair-pull wrestling match," Josh teased, earning another round of laughter.

"I couldn't believe it," Jake admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I had to pause for a moment to untangle myself. But you know what? I finished the solo without missing a beat."

We all chuckled, shaking our heads in disbelief at the antics he described. As the evening wore on and Jake relaxed with each sip of his drink, he began to open up and I decided to start up a conversation with him.

"I noticed your guitar," I said, nodding towards his prized 1961 Gibson Les Paul. "It's a beauty."

Jake's eyes lit up with a mix of pride and enthusiasm. "Thanks," he replied, a hint of modesty in his voice. "I've been playing for years. Do you play?"

"Yeah, a bit," I admitted with a smile. "Not as well as you, though."

He chuckled softly, a genuine warmth in his expression. "It's all about practice and passion," he said, his gaze thoughtful.

Danny chimed in with a grin. "You play too? We should jam sometime," he suggested.

I glanced over at Sam and couldn't help but smile. Our eyes met, and I saw the warmth and happiness mirrored in his gaze, knowing that he understood how much I was enjoying getting to know his family.

"Hey, are you guys up for another round?" Sam asked, breaking the moment with a playful grin.

"Absolutely," Josh replied eagerly, already signaling the bartender.

As the night continued, we laughed, shared more stories, and enjoyed each other's company. It felt like I had known them for much longer than just this evening.

But as the hours ticked by, I glanced at my phone and realized how long I had been there. "I hate to break up the party," I said reluctantly, "but I should probably get going."

There was a collective sigh of disappointment mixed with understanding from the group. "Already?" Josh exclaimed, a playful pout on his face. "We were just getting started!"

"I know," I replied with a smile, touched by their warmth and hospitality. “Thank you for an amazing show, it was so good to meet you all.”

We exchanged heartfelt goodbyes, and all of the boys gave me a warm hug as we promised to meet up again soon. Sam stood up with me, his hand resting gently on my back as we walked towards the door, neither of us quite ready to let the night end.

"So, what are you doing after this?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness.

I chuckled softly, warmth spreading through me at his company. "Probably just going to go home and watch a movie," I replied casually.

He grinned, a familiar sparkle in his eyes. "Need any company?" he asked, his tone teasing yet genuine, recalling our first encounter at the farmers' market.

I couldn't help but laugh, charmed by his cheekiness. "I would love the company," I replied, "I've got an unopened bottle of wine at home that's been calling my name."

Sam's smile widened, and he nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect."

With a quick goodbye to his brothers, Sam confirmed his plans for the evening and followed me to my apartment complex. We parked side by side, and as we walked to my front door, I couldn't ignore the flutter of anticipation in my chest.

Inside, we shed our coats and shoes, the atmosphere becoming more relaxed and intimate. "Make yourself comfortable on the couch," I said, gesturing towards the living room. "I'll just be a moment while I change."

I slipped into a comfier shirt and leggings, feeling comfortable yet excited. When I returned, Sam was examining my record collection. He held up a Neil Young album with a smile. "Great taste," he remarked, setting it down as I approached.

"Thanks," I replied, feeling a rush of nerves and excitement as we moved to the couch together. Sam settled against the armrest, facing me.

As Sam looked into my eyes, he smiled warmly. "You have a really beautiful smile, you know that?" he said, his voice soft and sincere.

I felt my cheeks flush at the compliment. "Thank you," I murmured, feeling a bit flustered. Needing something to calm my nerves, I asked, "Would you like a glass of wine?"

"I'd love one," he replied graciously.

I walked over to the kitchen, poured two glasses of wine, and returned to the couch. Sam had shifted over, leaving a spot for me right next to him. As I handed him his glass, our fingers brushed, sending a small jolt of electricity through me. We both smiled at the contact.

Settling down beside him, I picked up the remote. "What movie do you want to watch?" I asked.

"I'll let you pick," he said, leaning back comfortably.

Scanning through my continue-watching list, I clicked on "The Proposal." Sam chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. "I secretly love a good chick flick," he confessed.

I giggled, feeling the last of my nervousness fade away. "Good to know," I said, smiling at him.

Sensing my hesitation, Sam opened his arms invitingly. "Come here," he said gently.

I grabbed a blanket and snuggled close to him, feeling his warmth surround me. As the movie started, I couldn't help but giggle to myself, thinking about how this all began with a chance encounter at the market.

Sam's arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I nestled into him, enjoying the comfort and closeness. The warmth of his embrace and the relaxed atmosphere made me reflect on how different this night was from what I would normally do. Usually, I wouldn't have given a random stranger the time of day, but there was something about Sam at the farmers' market that made me want to get to know him. I giggled to myself, thinking about how that afternoon walking around the market with Sam had led me to where I was now, curled up on the couch, watching a movie together.

"What's got you giggling over there?" Sam asked, a playful grin on his face.

I looked up at him, smiling. "I was just thinking about how we first met last week at the farmers' market," I confessed. "And now look at us."

Sam raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You mean, sitting on your couch, watching a movie?"

"Yeah," I laughed softly. "I promise this isn't something I usually do."

Sam chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So you don't always let handsome musicians buy you coffee and flowers?" he teased, giving me a playful nudge.

I couldn't help but laugh, playfully hitting his shoulder. "Not always," I replied with mock seriousness, enjoying the easy banter between us. "You're a rare exception."

As the movie progressed, I felt a growing sense of contentment. Sam's presence was comforting and familiar, even though we had only just met. Every now and then, he would make a comment about a funny scene, and we'd both laugh.

At one point, I glanced up at him and found him already looking at me. Our eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away. There was something incredibly genuine and sincere in his gaze.

Sam reached down, his fingers lightly brushing my cheek. He looked into my eyes, then down to my lips. I swallowed hard, feeling a rush of anticipation. Sitting up a little and turning towards him, I pressed my face more into his palm, savoring the warmth and tenderness of his touch.

The tension between us grew, an electric current that seemed to pull us closer together. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Sam finally leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

The kiss was gentle at first, testing the waters. His lips were soft and warm, tasting faintly of the wine we had been drinking. As the kiss deepened, it became more urgent, filled with a longing that had been building since our first encounter at the market.

Sam's hand moved to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as our kiss intensified. My own hands found their way to the nape of his neck, gently pulling on his long hair. The world around us seemed to disappear, leaving only the sensation of his lips on mine, the taste of him, and the feeling of his heart beating in time with my own.

When we finally pulled away, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Sam's eyes were dark and intense, a mixture of desire and something deeper that made my stomach flip.

"Wow," I whispered, unable to find any other words.

"Yeah," he replied softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice husky.

I smiled, my heart pounding in my chest. "I think I might have an idea," I replied, leaning in to kiss him again.

This time, the kiss was slower. His hands moved to cradle my face, his thumbs brushing lightly over my cheeks as our lips moved together in perfect harmony.

Eventually, we pulled back, resting our foreheads against each other as we caught our breath. "I should probably refill our wine," I said with a soft laugh, my voice tinged with excitement and anticipation.

Sam nodded, his eyes still locked on mine. "I'll be right here," he promised, his voice warm and reassuring.

Reluctantly, I untangled myself from his embrace and stood up, heading to the kitchen to grab the bottle of wine and two glasses. My mind was racing with thoughts of what had just happened and what might happen next.

When I returned, Sam had made himself comfortable on the couch, his smile widening as he saw me approach. I handed him a glass, our fingers brushing once more, sending a familiar jolt of electricity through me.

We settled back into the couch, our bodies close. As we sipped our wine and watched the movie, Sam was sitting with his legs extended, and I rested my head on his lap. He gently played with my hair, his touch sending a wave of comfort through me.

As I looked up at him, our eyes met, and a soft smile formed on his lips. I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought us to this cozy moment together.

"Thanks for inviting me over," Sam said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

I lifted my head slightly, meeting his gaze with warmth in my own. "Thank you for being here," I replied sincerely.

Sam raised his glass saying, "Here's to spontaneous farmers' market encounters leading to cozy movie nights."

I mirrored his gesture, raising my glass in a silent toast. The clink of our glasses resonated softly in the room, a simple acknowledgment of the moment we were sharing.

As we settled back into our quiet companionship, the movie playing softly in the background, wrapped up in Sam's gentle touch and the warmth of his presence, I felt a sense of contentment and excitement for what the future might hold for us.

Sanguine Osculum

Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction.

Vampire!Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Standard warnings for a vampire fic, along with 18+ themes in future chapters.

You'd heard the stories, of course. Deep in the woods, a desolate manor stood. The family who once called it home, they said, had all fallen victim to some illness, leaving the once bustling estate empty and unkempt.

But those who decided to explore it always spoke of an energy that seemed to exist there, of a presence that resided within the worn-down walls. Believers suggest that the spirits of the four young brothers who had once lived there still wandered the halls, unable to accept that they're no longer alive. Others just say it's a creepy old manor, empty and alone. These claims ignited a fire of curiosity within you, and you were itching to explore the place yourself.

The family, it seemed, had originated from somewhere in Europe, their lineage a long line of nobility and prestige. They were revered, held in high regard, as if royalty. Upon arriving here, however, their once illustrious name faded into obscurity. They vanished from the public eye, retreating into the confines of their manor.

This only added to your intrigue, if you were being honest. What secrets lie waiting in that old manor? Was it really haunted?

You decided one afternoon that you were going to find out for yourself, which is how you ended up stood in front of the dilapidated manor, a large pack on your back and anticipation thrumming under your skin.

The manor, once a symbol of opulence and prosperity, now sat in a state of disrepair and loneliness. Time had not been kind to the large estate, with ivy creeping up the decaying walls, nature reclaiming what was once its own. The windows, many shattered, stared out into the world with hollow eyes, as if yearning for what it once was.

The doors were still functional, with a large, ornate knocker staring back at you. Just for the hell of it, you lifted the heavy iron knocker and let it hit the door once, the noise echoing through the halls.

Nothing seemed to jump out at you, no ghosts, no squatters, no animals, so you assumed the place really was empty. You pushed the heavy door open with your shoulder, grateful you had worn something you didn't mind getting messed up as a loose splinter tore a small rip in your sleeve.

While the outside of the manor was in a rather sad state, the inside was surprisingly intact. It was dusty, sure, and some things here and there seemed damaged, but most of the furniture and knicknacks still sat as if no time had passed.

The foyer, once a grand entrance hall, greeted you with faded elegance. The air hung heavy with the scent of neglect, mingling with the faint aroma of aged wood and mothballs. Rays of sunlight filtered through the cracked and dusty windows, casting a dappled light on the old wooden floors. The faded paintings on the walls, still intact beneath the layers of dust, spoke of a time when this place was alive with laughter and vibrant conversations.

You were glad you had decided to bring your camera with you, eager to get photos of this beautiful place. Even the kitchen was elegant; black and white stone floor, white brick walls, and dark stained wood throughout the room spoke of the wealth of the family who once lived here. You wondered what kind of meals they enjoyed that were prepared here.

Your feet carried you to what seemed to be a ballroom of sorts. A large grand piano sat in a corner, intricate carvings decorating its glossy exterior. You were surprised by the lack of dust on it, as if someone took care of it.

The room itself was vast, adorned with chandeliers that hung precariously from the ceiling, their crystal droplets dulled and tarnished. The walls, once adorned with opulent tapestries and intricate artwork, now displayed faded remnants of their former glory. Gossamer curtains, moth-eaten and tattered, danced with the breeze that seeped through the broken windows, casting eerie shadows on the worn parquet floor.

As you reached the old piano, you felt a shiver up your spine. It felt like there were eyes on you, silently watching from some darkened corner. Looking around the sprawling ballroom revealed nothing, not even a mouse scuttling across the floor. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn't shake that feeling.

And maybe you were just overly superstitious, but you didn't want to risk having a ghost angry at you for touching their stuff without asking.

"I-" You spoke up, stuttering at the way your voice echoed throughout the empty room, "I hope you don't mind if I play your piano. I won't break it, I promise."

And suddenly, you felt the tension in the room disappear, as if whoever was watching you was giving you permission.

You gently sat on the wooden bench, letting your fingers drift to the keys. Playing it, you were surprised to find it was still mostly in-key. You didn't know how to play much on the piano, just some simple melodies, but you enjoyed playing it, nonetheless. To be able to play a piece of history was so exciting to you.

You still felt watched as you played, but the gaze felt more curious now. Once you finished playing, you stood from the piano and glanced around the large room.

"Thanks for letting me play. I'll leave you be now," You say again to the seemingly empty room before heading back to the front room.

The sweeping staircase, its banister worn but still sturdy, beckoned you to explore the upper floors. Each step you took echoed through the empty space, reminding you of the tragedy that took place here. You couldn't help but wonder about the lives that once ascended these steps, the footsteps that once filled the hollow emptiness.

Rooms branched off from the main staircase, some to the left and some to the right. The right seemed to be bedrooms, which you left for later. The first room you came across was a library.

As you stepped into the dimly lit space, you couldn't help but be captivated by the sight before you. The room was lined from floor to ceiling with towering bookshelves, their wooden frames weathered by time. The shelves were filled with rows upon rows of books, their spines bearing the weight of forgotten stories and hidden knowledge.

Sunlight filtered through the dust-laden windows, casting an ethereal glow that danced upon the countless volumes. Each ray seemed to breathe life into the forgotten tales, giving them a chance to whisper their secrets once more. You could almost imagine the whispers of the authors, their words suspended in the air, waiting for someone to pick them up.

You ran your fingers along the books as you made your way deeper into the room, marveling at the fragility of their spines and the delicate scent of aged parchment that filled the air. The room was silent, save for the faint rustling of pages as the wind tiptoed through the cracks in the windows.

As you reached the center of the library, your eyes were drawn to an ornate desk, tucked away in a corner. The desk stood proud, its surface adorned with intricate carvings of flowers and vines. You felt watched once more, but this gaze was different. It was wary, but more gentle.

Speaking eased the tension last time, so you decided to do so again.

"Hello... I'm just here to look around. I won't take any of the books."

And again, the air felt calmer. You were certain there was a presence here, but it didn't seem angry or violent. Just... watchful. Careful of it's possessions.

You read some of the papers that sat on the desk. They seemed to be poems, or maybe songs, your eyes trailing along the faded ink. You didn't stay in the library very long, the dust making your throat tickle. You thanked the unseen presence again before moving on.

The room next door was a music room of some sort. Various instruments lay around the room, though two caught your interest: a beautiful violin and a very old guitar. At this point, you weren't surprised when you felt watched again, though this time, you felt a bit of annoyance seep into the room. You decided it would be best to leave the instruments alone; whatever was watching you seemed protective of them.

"I won't touch your things, I promise."

The tension cooled slightly, but you could still tell that you weren't wanted in here.

"Sorry if I'm intruding... I'll take my leave now."

You quickly exited the music room, letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You decided to leave that room be for now; whatever was in there didn't want you in there with it.

The last room on the left side was a sitting room, bathed in the faint light of the slowly setting sun. As you stepped inside, your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged wood and lingering spirits.

An ornate bar, its polished surface covered by empty liquor bottles, commanded attention, taking up a large portion of the room. Crystal decanters, now empty and collecting dust, stood alongside tarnished glasses.

On the other end of the room, nestled beneath the glow of an antique chandelier, sat a cluster of chairs. Their faded upholstery now bore the marks of time, their frayed edges and worn cushions a result of the passage of years. A pool table, its green baize cloth marked with faint traces of chalk, stood nearby, its wooden frame showing signs of wear and tear.

You set your bag down and sank into one of the large chairs, the worn leather creaking softly beneath your weight. It was then that you felt it—an inexplicable shift in the atmosphere, as if the room had come alive with an unseen presence. The air crackled with a tangible energy, and a shiver danced its way down your spine.

The feeling of being watched returned, but this time, it was different. It was no longer a mere gaze, but a physical presence that settled in the room with you. You could almost feel the wamth of another person, almost feel the subtle disturbance of the air as they moved.

And then, in the periphery of your vision, you saw it. There was a flicker of movement, a shadow cast against the wall. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned your head, eyes narrowing in an attempt to make sense of the mysterious figure that now stood before you.

You could see dark curly hair and a white ruffled shirt, like the ones you'd see in those period dramas. Curious, dark eyes stared back at you as you stood on shaking legs, unsure of what you were looking at. The figure stepped closer, and you could finally see the rest of his features.

He was handsome, and reminded you of the old Greek statues you'd seen at the art museum once. There was something off about him, though, and his movements were too quiet for your liking.

It took a minute to find your voice, and it trembled once you did.

"H-Hello... I'm sorry for intruding..."

The young man looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow before finally speaking.

"You should leave. Your kind shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

His voice was low and rough, but there was a softer tone to the second half, as if he were genuinely concerned for you.

"U-um... okay..."

You glanced at the door, slowly walking to it and keeping your distance from the man.

"Can I ask if you're-"

"You really should take your leave. It's not wise to be here right now," he repeated.

You decided to take heed of his warning, slipping out of the room and back into the hallway. The air felt different than before, as if the manor itself was watching you. You quickly headed back down the staircase and out the front door, your heart thumping out of your chest.

Honestly you hadn't even realized it was so late, too enveloped in exploring. Reaching for your cell phone, you came back empty handed.

Shit. You left your bag upstairs.

You couldn't just leave it behind; you didn't have that kind of money. And your camera was in it too, and you definitely didn't want to lose that.

So, with a deep breath, you re-entered the manor. Climbing the stairs, you felt like you were making a mistake, but you continued on. You had to.

As you reached the landing, you could see the door leading to the sitting room standing ajar, a sliver of light peeking through the crack. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears as you approached cautiously, one hesitant step at a time.

Pushing the door open, you entered the room once again, your eyes instantly drawn to the spot where you had left your bag. It lay there, innocently perched upon the worn chair, waiting patiently for your return.

With a sigh of relief, you hurriedly retrieved your bag, pulling it over your shoulders before turning around and running directly into the young man from before.

"Why are you still here?" He asked, worry in his tone.

"I- um, forgot my things..." You replied, shocked that he wasn't a ghost like you first though. His body was physical, clearly, as you had run into him. His skin was cooler than your own, but not wildly so.

"Leave now. Please," He gently pushed you out of the room, and his tone worried you.

In your rush to head down the stairs, however, you slipped. You felt the ground approaching your face, and closed your eyes as you braced yourself for impact. But it never came. Instead, you felt gentle arms around you, and a new voice spoke quietly into your ear.

"Easy, Darling..."

You opened your eyes and looked up, your eyes meeting honey brown ones. This was a different young man, his short brown hair slicked back, showing off his soft features and slight stubble. He wore an off white ruffled shirt with a fancy jacket over it, his dainty features giving him a charming look overall.

"You should be more careful, Darling. You could've gotten hurt."

He had a boyish tone to his voice and didn't look like he was much different in age to yourself, though you could've been wrong. His hands were a bit clammy, but you ignored it as he helped you to the front door.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It's quite alright, Darling," He cut you off, before smiling softly, "Now, I must ask you to head back home. You shouldn't linger around strange places so late..."

You swallowed and nodded, not missing the way he looked you up and down, his gaze landing back on your face.

"As lovely as it was to meet you and listen to you play, Darling, I must ask that you not return. It's simply for your own safety. Oh, and don't tell anyone you saw us. We don't like visitors..."

You nodded again. You certainly wouldn't be telling anyone about this. It's not like they'd believe you.

The young man smiled again, giving you a slight bow.

"Have a lovely night, Darling," He whispered, closing the door once more.

As you drove home that night, only one thought filled your head.

You had to go back to that place.

-------

The manor seemed just as empty as before when you decided to return, just days later. The overgrown ivy still twisted around the stone walls, casting eerie shadows in the fading light of dusk. The looming structure stood as a silent sentinel, guarding its secrets within. The heavy oak door beckoned you forward, its intricate carvings a stark contrast to the peeling paint and weathered facade. You wondered for a moment if you imagined the strange people who you had met the last time.

You were tempted to raise the heavy knocker once again, but you knew deep down that you would get no response. The manor still seemed abandoned, frozen in time, a relic of a bygone era. Yet, faintly, you could hear what sounded like music drifting through the air, carried on a haunting melody.

Intrigued and unable to resist the allure of the sound, you stepped into the manor once more. The music was drawing you deeper into its depths, the soft creaking of floorboards beneath your feet adding to the somber ambiance that surrounded you.

After a minute of wandering the lower halls, you finally reached the grand ballroom. The doors stood ajar, revealing a scene straight out of a dream— or perhaps out of a period drama.

In the corner of the room, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a figure sat at the grand piano. His fingers danced across the keys with effortless grace, conjuring a haunting melody that seemed to reach the very core of your being.

Stepping closer, you recognized him as the young man from before, the one who caught you on the stairs. You couldn't see much of his face from where you stood, but managed to see that his eyes were closed and he seemed to move with the music. His brow would furrow and relax with the highs and lows of the melody, and his mouth hung slightly open, quiet mumbles spilling out unconsciously.

The scene before you was captivating, almost surreal in its beauty and mystery. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across the room, adding an ethereal quality to the young man's performance. The melody he played seemed to echo through the vast ballroom, filling the space with a sense of melancholy and longing.

As you watched him, you couldn't help but be drawn in by his music. Each note was played with such emotion and skill, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys. It was as though the piano was an extension of his own body, each chord and harmony a reflection of himself.

His body swayed with the music, his movements fluid and graceful. You could sense the passion and dedication he poured into his playing, his entire being consumed by the haunting melody that filled the room. It was a performance unlike any other, and one you knew he expected no one to see.

As the music reached a crescendo, his eyes fluttered open, revealing depths of honey brown that seemed to hold a thousand thoughts at once. But then, he played a sour note, his body going stiff as he slowly turned to make eye contact with you.

"What are you doing here...?" He asked, his voice laced with confusion, "I thought I asked you not to come back."

He stood quickly, his movements as graceful as a dancer.

"I'm sorry... I just- I had to... I needed to make sure what I saw last time was real..." You tried to explain, stumbling over your words as he approached.

"As much as I'd love to keep your company, darling, you can't be here," He whispered, using that name again. The one that only made you want to stay here longer. He stopped a few feet away from you and stood so still you couldn't even see him breathe. It was as if he was afraid to come closer, or even breathe the same air as you.

"Why is it so dangerous to be here?" You asked, taking a step forward, "That's what the other boy said too, the one with the curly black hair."

The young man tilted his head to the side, "Curly black hair... you met Daniel?" His confusion turned to concern, "You didn't happen to meet anyone else, did you?"

You shook your head.

He reached out, as if to turn you towards the door, "Then you still have a chance to leave. I'd do so before either of them know you're snooping around here again-"

"Sam?"

Another man's voice echoed down from the top of the stairs, and the brown haired boy, Sam apparently, stiffened.

"Damnit..." He muttered, grabbing your arm and leading you to a closet, "Stay in here and do not make a sound. Just trust me."

With that, he pushed you in and shut the door, leaving you in the dark, dusty storage closet. You pressed your ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from outside.

The muffled voices of Sam and the newcomer drifted through the wooden barrier, "Sam? Who's down here with you?" This voice was lower and had a slight rasp to it compared to Sam's more boyish tone.

"There's no one here, Jake. It's just me."

The other man, Jake, seemed to be unsure of that answer, his footsteps coming every so slightly closer.

"I can smell that someone else was here, Sam. You know that no one can-"

"Jake, it's probably just from the person who was here the other day. They were messing with my piano, so it probably still has their scent," Sam explained, though you didn't understand what he meant. You didn't stink, did you? You sniffed yourself but could only smell the dust and mildew in the closet. It tickled your nose, and you did all you could to hold in the sneeze threatening to come out.

"Maybe... I just don't like it when people come snooping around. If any of them find out, they'll be here with pitchforks and torches by nightfall."

Unfortunately, you could only hold in the sneeze for so long.

"Achoo! ... shit..."

The sound echoed through the dark, dusty closet, interrupting the stillness that had enveloped the space. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized your cover had been blown. The muffled voices of Sam and Jake abruptly halted, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to last forever despite it only being a few moments.

The closet door was suddenly flung open as you locked eyes with who you assumed was Jake. His brown hair fell effortlessly to his shoulders, and there was an undeniable elegance about him, an air of regality that seemed to set him apart from the others. His outfit was different too; a red vest and jacket that showed off much of his chest and the necklaces that lay there, paired with red suit pants and white pointed dress shoes

But it was his eyes that captivated you the most. Like Sam's, they were a piercing amber-brown, but there was something about the way Jake looked at you that made you shiver. It was as if he was looking through you instead of at you. It was both unsettling and electrifying.

His lips curled into a snarl, revealing unusually sharp teeth that glinted in the sparse illumination, adding to his menacing demeanor. Without a word, he grabbed the front of your shirt, his grip firm and unyielding as he backed you against the wall.

With his face mere inches from yours, you could see every detail of his nearly perfect skin. His gaze bore into you, as if searching for answers you were not even sure you had. The intensity in his eyes was like a storm brewing, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.

"Who the hell are you, and why are you here?" His voice was low and dangerous, each word dripping with anger. The weight of his question pressed down on you, demanding a response that you struggled to form.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sound of your own fearful breaths. In that moment, you felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a cat, helpless and exposed.

The seconds stretched on, each heartbeat echoing in your ears like a drumbeat of impending danger. The dim light cast shadows across Jake's face, accentuating the sharp angles and the intensity of his gaze. It was as if time itself had slowed down, trapping you in this moment of uncertainty and fear.

But just as you thought you might crumble under the weight of his scrutiny, Sam spoke up, placing a hand on Jake's arm, "Let them go, Jake. I promise they're not a threat to us."

Jake's grip on your shirt loosened slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on you, "You know their kind and our kind aren't exactly friends, right, Sam? What's stopping them from ratting us out the second they leave?"

Ratting them out about what? For being weirdos living in some old manor in the woods?

"I- I won't say anything! I swear on my life!" You manage to blurt out, the words tumbling out of you in a desperate plea.

Sam butted in again, "Jake, please. It's the one chance we have to see what people are up to now. Please?" He sounded like a child begging their parent to let them keep a new pet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake released his hold on you, stepping back with a wary look in his eyes, "Fine. But if you say one word to anyone, I'll gut you."

Jake turned on his heel and stormed off, his coat billowing behind him. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, fading into the distance like a distant thunderstorm. Alone with Sam now, you turned to face him, taking in the subtle downturn of his shoulders and the crease of worry etched into his brow.

"I apologize about him. He doesn't trust people very much anymore..." Sam's voice was apologetic and worried, "He'll eventually get over it. Just, ah, please don't tell anyone about us?"

You sighed in annoyance, still confused about all this, "Tell anyone what?? I still have no idea what or who you guys are!"

It was Sam's turn to seem confused.

"You... you don't? I assumed you had returned because you figured it out..." Sam trailed off, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed, his brows knitting together in a perplexed expression.

"Oh. Well... hmm..." Sam's voice trailed off, suddenly less sure sounding than before.

"Well?" you prompted.

Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of whatever knowledge he carried. He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I, um... my brothers and I... we're not human. Not anymore, at least..." Sam's voice wavered, the confession weighing down his every syllable.

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but all you found was raw vulnerability.

"You're... not human?" The words felt foreign on your tongue, a question you'd never thought you'd say.

Sam nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "We're something else now. Something different..." His features were drawn with worry, his eyes pleading for understanding, "I know this is a lot to take in, but please... we mean no harm. We're just trying to survive, to exist in a world that isn't made for us."

Not human.

The words echoed in your thoughts as questions fought for attention in your mind, demanding answers that seemed to slip through your grasp like water through a sieve. Not human. Then what was he?

You could touch them, so probably not ghosts; they weren't rotting in front of you, so not zombies, a voice in your mind reasoned, trying to make sense of the impossible truth standing before you.

You looked at Sam, truly looked at him, and actually took in his features. His smooth, perfect skin that accentuated the sharp angles of his face, his amber eyes that leaned a little more red than brown, and his too-sharp teeth, elongated and pointed, glistening slightly under the light filtering through the dusty windows.

Oh.

It all made sense.

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place with a resounding click, and suddenly, the world around you seemed to shift. Sam stood before you, a creature of the night, a being that belonged to the shadows.

"You... You're a vampire??" You ask in a hushed tone, a part of you still not believing it.

Sam nodded slowly, his features softened by a hint of sadness, "Yes, I am. And so are my brothers. We... we never wanted this life, but it chose us nonetheless." His voice was a whisper, full of longing for a world long gone.

"Do you... feed on people?" You ask, stepping back.

"No! None of us do. We can stay satiated enough with the wildlife in the surrounding forest," Sam assured you, taking a step to keep the same distance between you both, "Trust me, I don't like it either. I didnt like eating animals even before becoming this. But I can assure you that none of us will hurt you."

You cast a glance to the doorway where Jake had just stormed off, "What about him?"

"Jake's just highly overprotective of us. Most people tend to run screaming when they discover they're standing in a house full of vampires."

You stayed still for a moment, considering your options. You could run away like others apparently had, and try to forget this place and it's otherworldly inhabitants. But there was something in Sam's demeanor, a certain earnestness in his voice, that made you want to stay.

"You promise none of you will hurt me?" You ask, watching as Sam's face perks up at your words.

"I promise. I swear on my eternal life," Sam grinned, placing a hand over his heart. His teeth glinted in the light, but strangely, you weren't scared of him.

"Alright then. I'll trust you... Sam, was it?" You say, relaxing slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I never introduced myself, did I? My name is Samuel Francis Kiszka, and it's a pleasure to meet you, darling," Sam bowed dramatically, peeking up at you after a moment with another grin, "But you may call me Sam."

You told Sam your own name, chuckling when he decided to keep referring to you as "darling" instead.

"Now, I'd love to give you the grand tour, if you'd like?"

You, of course, agreed.

As Sam led you through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, you couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the place. You followed Sam's tall figure, his movements graceful yet purposeful, as he showed you around the rooms you had only briefly passed through before.

The ballroom, with its ornate chandeliers and marble floors, stood as a reminder a bygone era. Sam spoke of the nights when music and laughter filled the room, when guests twirled in elegant gowns and tailored suits. His voice echoed in the vast space, recounting tales of extravagant parties and lavish gatherings that once graced the halls.

Next, he guided you to the kitchen, where the scent of spices and herbs still lingered in the air, even under all the dust. The massive hearth, now cold and dark, had once been the heart of the bustling room. Sam pointed out the intricately carved cabinets and shelves, explaining how the pantry used to aways be stocked with supplies from the nearby village, ensuring that those living in the manor at that time never went hungry.

Moving on, you entered the dining room, its long table still set with fine china and silverware. The high-backed chairs stood empty, a stark reminder of the absence of guests. Sam's voice softened as he described the family meals shared around the table, the laughter and arguments that had once filled the room now reduced to nothing but memories in his mind.

The last major room you were shown on the lower floor was the main sitting room. Though also covered in a layer of dust and it's windows cracked and curtains torn, it still seemed grand. The large couches were made of fine velvet and leather, clearly expensive in their time and still worth a hefty sum today. The large fireplace, all of its bricks imported from Europe according to Sam, used go heat nearly the whole house.

"Though, we don't really have a need to keep cool or warm anymore. In fact, we seem to run colder than ever before," Sam explained, "We can feel warmth but it doesn't do much, Sam continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. As he spoke, you noticed a flicker of something in his eyes, a distant longing for sensations that he could no longer fully experience.

The warmth of a crackling fire, the gentle touch of sunlight on his skin – all of no use to him in the eternity of his existence. Maybe all the romance novels had made you forget how lonely the life of an immortal must be.

"But enough about me," Sam turned to head out of the sitting room, gesturing to the large staircase, "I think you should formally meet my brothers."

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CHAPTER 2:

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Photo by @no-other-mashter

Sanguine Osculum Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction. CHAPTE

So I've decided to finally continue my vampire Sam fic... it will be updated soon 🤭

Object of Desire.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

______________________________________

A/N: I really couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, and I had to write it down.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, dirty talk, swearing, angst, angry!Jake.

Summary: Jake is having a hard time making certain things work.

________________________________

A crash followed by a loud curse echoed from the inside of the studio.

It was very late and the few people still lingering around took that as a sign that it was way better to leave before hell broke loose.

The door of the first recording room opened and Daniel was the first one to exit, swiftly followed by Sam. The two of them basically ran out of the door looking worried and exhausted while more shouting came from the inside. Two voices were overlapping and growing in volume every second more.

The door was almost closing when it bursted open violently, hitting the wall like someone had kicked it hard.

“Well, I might be an obnoxious diva but you really need to learn how to play that fucking guitar again Jakey, you are slowing us down. So you better pull it together and control it because you are sounding like shit.” Josh came out of the room with his hands flailing, still facing inside and shouting to his brother on top of his lungs.

Then he grasped the door and slammed it shut before the half empty bottle of wine that Jake threw towards him could hit him straight in the face.

A loud “fuck off” echoed from the room at the same time that the bottle shattered with a booming crash against the wood of the door, sending shards and drops of wine everywhere.

Then, after that, the building fell completely silent.

Inside the recording room Jake was fuming with anger.

His ears were ringing and his chest was heaving. He was very hot and his already unbuttoned shirt was sticking to his skin uncomfortably, making him feel trapped and intensifying his anger.

He immediately took it off and threw it across the floor, exhausted.

It landed in a corner right next to the guitar, his beloved, that he had thrown to the floor a few minutes before everyone ran away and Josh accused him of not knowing how to play it anymore.

A renewed fit of anger filled his heart and he quickly crossed the room.

He harshly grabbed his beloved guitar from the floor and slammed it down on the table with so much force that the sound it made had a shiver run down his spine.

That bitch had been giving him troubles all day. It just wouldn't let him play it properly and he didn't know what the hell was wrong with it. The only thing he knew was that he needed to find that out as soon as possible.

He grabbed it by the fretboard and slung the strap over his shoulder. Then he plugged it into his amp and started playing a song he had played an indecent amount of times and that he knew like the back of his hands.

A few seconds later he was huffing out a curse under his breath. Something was wrong.

The notes sounded weird, in an almost sinister way and he didnt know why.

Frustration was slowly getting the better of him, so he sat down on the sofa with the guitar still on his lap and opened the bottle of Pinot Grigio that someone had placed right next to the sofa at the beginning of their useless recording session.

He uncorked the bottle and took a few long gulps right from it, without even bothering to go grab a glass.

Then he closed his eyes and rested his pounding head against the back of the couch for a few minutes, hoping that the wine would clear his mind and ease his nerves a bit.

With a renewed glimmer of hope, he tuned the instrument again, even though he knew that that wasn't the problem and this time he tried to improvise something.

An hour later, the bottle of wine was empty but Jake was still drowning in despair and anger. He kept trying to come up with a decent new riff but he produced nothing that sounded even remotedly like it used to when his fingers stroked the frets of his beloved.

It had been love at first sight between that little horned cherry-red devil and his twelve-year-old self. Inside that shop so many years ago with the first note he played he knew that she was the one.

But right now he was not so sure anymore.

The umpteenth wrong note echoed into the room, despite the guitar was perfectly tuned and that sent Jake spiraling.

A violent fit of anger coursed through his body.

He stood, ripped the guitar from his sweaty body and slammed it on the same table as before. Another hideous sound left the instrument from the violent impact and Jake lost it completely.

With a scream, he ripped all the strings from the guitar so hard that he even sliced his middle finger open with one of them.

Blood slowly started to drip out of the cut and onto the wood, creating a grim contrast with the red of the instrument but Jake didn't even notice at first. He was blinded by anger in a way that he didn't remember to have ever experienced before.

Without thinking he grabbed the neck of his guitar, bent over it and started whispering.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, hm? Why are you being such a bitch tonight? Are you fucking jealous because I played other guitars all day long?” He hissed like he was referring to an actual person, his lips grazing the wood and metal of the fretboard in a snare.

He knew he sounded completely out of his mind and that the entire scene might have granted him a one way ticket to a psychiatric ward but he had reached the point of no return.

At that moment a single crackle sound came from his amp and Jake froze in place.

A strange feeling crept up his spine making him shiver.

And then the thought that invaded his brain made him feel utterly helpless and crazy.

‘That sounded like an answer’ he thought but then shook his head because he refused to believe that.

It was true. That morning one of his closest friends brought to the studio many guitars, one more rare and prestigious than the other and he had a lot of fun playing a lot of them for a few takes. He did that because he wanted to spice things up a little bit and render his playing a bit more dynamic with the new album.

That evening however, since he was tired from playing that many different guitars, he needed to fall back on the one which he knew even better than his very soul.

But somehow he couldn't make it work this time.

He felt so stupid for even thinking that his beloved guitar, an inanimate object, could be sentient and could give him a hard time because of that.

He straightened his back and mustered up the courage to ask the same question again, but this time nothing happened. His voice just echoed into the empty room in a peculiar way.

“I’m wasted” he scoffed at himself and laughed out loud. He started pitying himself, and moved away from the table to go get some fresh air outside, hoping that it could help him clear his mind.

He reached for the door but, as soon as he placed his sweaty hot hand against the cool metal of the knob, another noise echoed from the single cabinet on the other side of the room.

At first he thought it was the usual creaking of old wooden furniture but then he heard it again and this time it sounded more like something metallic hitting wood.

He slowly turned around but everything was in perfect order.

He was just thinking about the fact that the wine had fucked him up pretty good when he heard it again, louder this time.

It was coming from the bottom drawer of the cabinet where he usually kept his new guitar strings just in case one broke during the recording.

His heart was hammering in his chest and his head was spinning a little, but he decided to investigate further anyway.

He slowly approached the cabinet and crouched down. He reached for the knob and mentally counted to three before firmly yanking the drawer open.

Immediately he jumped away scared by what he saw, falling on his ass on the floor and then he burst out laughing like a maniac.

Inside, the guitar strings that he had placed there that morning wrapped in a neat circle had unrolled and, as soon as he opened the drawer, they had burst out, scaring him to death.

He laughed again, shaking his head and watching how they bobbed everywhere.

Then he decided that that was a sign. The sign he should restring his guitar and play whatever it came to his mind.

He stood, grabbed the strings and the tools he needed and moved back to the table.

He also noticed the blood on his hand and grabbed a paper towel to clean himself and stop the blood from flowing further.

Before getting to work he even grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and chugged half of it. The coolness of the liquid helped him clear his mind a bit. At least his head wasn't spinning anymore.

He carefully started placing the new strings where they belonged with one hand while keeping the body of the guitar still with the other.

He tightened the first one and was about to place another when the hand that was holding the guitar still slipped slightly, making the lower part of the instrument bump against his crotch.

He tried again and again his hand slipped, making the guitar press against his hips like it happened seconds before.

He was slowly getting fed up by everything again.

He let go of the guitar, wiped his sweaty hands against his jeans and began again.

This time he held the guitar a bit more harshly, making his knuckles turn white.

He correctly placed another four strings and he was about to reach for the last one when his hold slipped and the instrument ended up pressing against his crotch again.

He groaned and involuntarily pressed his hips back against it, feeling himself twitch in his boxers.

Then, as if recovering from a momentaneous blackout, he shook his head, reprimanded himself and tried again to place the final string.

An imperceptible blush covered his cheeks, and he told himself it was because of the anger but in reality he was starting to feel aroused, something that happened to him often when he irresponsibly paired wine with anger.

He successfully placed the last string and a sigh of relief left his lips. Then he started turning the tuning peg to tighten it but the guitar slipped from his grasp again, this time pressing into his tense balls and causing a little twinge of pain.

But instead of recoiling from it, he felt his hips move forward almost without his control. He pressed his now growing erection against the wood and he had to bite his lips to stiffen a groan of pleasure.

He stopped himself hastily and bent over his guitar, pressing his sweaty forehead against the cool surface of the table and questioning what the hell he was doing.

After a few seconds he straightened his back, exhaling a curse through gritted teeth and tightened his hands against the body of his guitar.

“Fuck it” he said and started pressing his hips against the lower curve of the instrument.

Instantly, pleasure started coursing through his body and the rhythm of his hips intensified to chase his release.

During every push of his hips Jake felt like his guitar was slowly countering his thrusts fucking itself against him. He tried to change his rhythm and the instrument matched it effortlessly and impeccably.

He stopped overthinking what he was doing and quickly fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans letting go of the guitar.

When finally he managed to pull his pants and boxers down to his ankles, setting himself free and placed his trembling hands back against the body of the guitar, it almost felt like it was vibrating imperceptibly as if in anticipation of his next movements.

When the delicate flushed skin of his engorged cock made contact with the smooth cool wood of the guitar a whimpery moan left his spit-slicked lips and he had to bite them to stop himself from screaming.

He moved his hands to grip the wood better and, as his fingers involuntarily grazed the strings, a low note echoed into the room, vibrating through his body and making him shiver.

“Please, do it again” he heard his own voice beg but didn't notice his lips moving with the words.

He grazed his fingers gently against the strings one more time while thrusting his hips and he almost doubled over in pleasure as the guitar slipped again from his grasps and pressed against his balls.

Jake knew he was slowly losing his mind but the fact that it really looked and felt like his guitar was making him fuck her was terrorising and arousing him at the same time.

He quickened his rhythm, fingering the strings unashamedly now as if his guitar was a flesh-and-blood woman under his grasp begging him for more and more.

The vibrations of the music were bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

After a few seconds he noticed that his hands were replicating the same pattern without knowing and his heart skipped a beat.

That was it.

The new riff he was looking for.

Right there.

Where it had always been.

He just needed a little bit of help to bring that sound out of his jumbled mind.

The vibrations coming from the guitar had his back arching with a loud unbridled moan as his nails dug into the wood of the instrument.

He knew he was getting closer and closer.

Embracing his moment of insanity he bent again over his guitar while thrusting his flushed cock rapidly against the wood that was already sleek with sweat and precome.

“Am I fucking you good, baby? Is this what you wanted all along, hm? You wanted me to treat you like my one and only bitch, didn't you? Now take it, slut.” He whispered dirtily towards his guitar as his thrusts quickened even more.

Another crackle sounded from the amp behind him and a note sounding like a moan resounded from the guitar, making him bare his teeth towards the instrument.

“C'mon Beloved, sing for me a little more. But make it dirty.” he addressed the guitar once again and, as if on command, the moment his fingers grazed the frets another riff sounded into the room making Jake’s toes curl.

“Fuck, yes, just like that” he heard himself moan, as his body twitched and spasmed against his guitar. His hair was damp with sweat by then, as was his entire body, and kept swaying back and forth in time with his lewd movements.

One last drawn out low note that was dripping sex and darkness echoed into the room and right through his body making him reach his high.

He watched mesmerized as his cock hardened even more and tensed, exposing his many veins and then, with a long prolonged moan, he admired as ropes of pearlescent come covered and ruined the polished wood of the instrument.

When finally he had regained a bit of his composure he straightened his back and huffed out a little breathy laugh.

Then he bent over his guitar one last time and licked it clean from his release almost hungrily.

With the pointed tip of his tongue he collected the last white drop from a string and the single note that reverberated into the room gave him yet another new idea.

Immediately he straightened his back, tied his hair in a low bun and pulled his boxers and pants back up.

Then he grabbed his beloved, slung the strap over his shoulder and went to press the recording button only to discover that it was already on.

And he really didn't remember turning it on.

___________________________

Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold @brujamagik @edgingthedarkness @gold-mines-melting

@mindastreamofcolours @blacksoul-27 @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @mapelsyrup07 @klarxtr @takenbythemadness @peaceloveunitygvf @lyndz2names @jazzyfigz @its-interesting-van-kleep @katuschka @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @hollyco @i-love-gvf

For the Fans

The one where Danny has an Only Fans...

WC: 2k+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, this is porn with very little plot, Explicit Sex, Male Masturbation, Sex Toys including Anal Play, Edging , Cum Play

A @lipstickitty / gracev0609 collaboration.

Danny wandered into his office, guitars and mixing equipment on one side, a blank wall with some nondescript plants and background decorations on the other. There, he opened the closet, pulling out a ring light. As he made sure his tripod was sturdy the pesky ache started to become unbearable low in his stomach. Finding himself back at the closet he kneeled down, opening the bottom shelf of an organizer. Inside there was a plethora of toys, a colorful array of plugs, dildos, vibrators, and strokers lay waiting to be used. He picked a few of his favorites, things that he knew would get him off quickly and easily.

He set his choices down on the small side table within reach of his chair. Danny picked up his phone, setting the camera to video, and setting it in the holder on the ring light. Before settling in he dimmed the lighting in the room, turning his string lights on that he hung. Once everything was in place to film his video he sat back down in his chair, he was eager. The need to get off infiltrated almost every thought he had today, but he knew he should wait so he could film it for his fans.

Danny never thought he'd make and post on OnlyFans, but one of his friends talked him into making an account one drunken night after seeing just how much money he was making.

“Dude, you should do it! First, you're hot as fuck! Second, think of all the money you'd make man. You already have a fanbase, I know they're dying to see your cock. They'd pay good money for it!”

“I mean.. maybe.”

“You jerk off right?”

“Of course.”

“Then why not film it and make some cash?”

He set up the account, picking a gorgeous profile picture from the many photos he had on his phone, and queued up a draft to save to his Instagram for when he was ready to announce the new content he had to offer.

Now, Danny leaned forward, pressing the record button on his phone. He smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth,” Hi sweetheart.”

He reached behind his head grabbing onto the collar of his cut up t-shirt, pulling it up over his head showing off his muscular arms. When he looked back at the camera his hair was fluffed, his eyes droopy, his arousal already evident. He was needy. Danny closed his eyes, and dipped his head back, his hands trailing down his chest, down his stomach, over the fabric of his joggers. He palmed himself through his pants making more blood flow to his large appendage. Once he was at least half hard and beginning to tent his sweatpants, he gripped his length. The fabric taut around the head of his cock, giving his fans a teasing look at what he had concealed under his pants. Slowly his fingers dipped into his waistband, pulling them down, unveiling his pretty pink cock as it slapped against his tummy, leaving a sticky string of precum linking his abdomen with his flushed head.

A soft groan left his lips as his long fingers wrapped around his length once more, now without any layers in between. His gaze flicked back and forth between the camera and watching the motions of his own hand, letting a string of saliva drip down onto his tip and slowly beginning to stroke himself.

“Fuck.” He muttered as his fist tightened over his sensitive head.

Once he felt he had built enough anticipation he let his cock rest against his tummy while he dribbled a bit of lube onto his fingers and spread it around with his thumb. He propped one foot up on his chair, spreading his legs wider both for better access and a better view. He let his tongue poke out of his mouth as that hand trailed down his body, cock twitching as he just barely brushed against it on his journey lower. He gave his balls a gentle squeeze before dipping his thumb lower, stroking over the sensitive skin on the path to his entrance. His thumb made a few slow circles, hole fluttering at the barely-there, not-nearly-enough touch. He let just the tip of the appendage dip inside, letting out a soft sigh.

After a few moments his slick fingers replaced his thumb tracing over his opening, slowly easing the middle one inside. His free hand fisted his length, softly stroking while he adjusted to the feeling. That finger worked in and out a few times before his ring finger slipped in alongside it. His eyes were dark as he looked into the camera, shaky breaths escaping as he stretched himself. “Shit.” He whined out when his thumb swiped over his leaking tip, spreading the bead of precum that had just formed down his aching cock.

He tossed his head back, moving his messy curls off his face without a free hand. He allowed himself to adjust for a little longer this time, feeling this stretch just the tiniest bit more than the first. When he felt ready, his pointer finger slowly joined the other two making him groan at the slight sting. He let another bead of spit drop down between his legs, speeding the pace of his fist working over his cock just a little. Danny tried fighting the fluttering of his eyes, but he relented, the pleasure coursing through his veins too strong. Once he felt relaxed enough he reached his hand that wasn't currently inside himself over to the table that was holding his toys. He grabbed the moderately sized purple plug. He located the on button, pressing and holding it until it chirped a short vibration. He brought it down between his legs, slowly retracting each of his fingers before pushing the toy in. Once it was nestled inside of him he glanced up at the camera, taking a moment to appreciate just how stunning he looked like this. His silver polished fingers wrapped around his hot hard length again, giving himself a few strokes before activating the toy.

He clicks the vibration on, clicking it up 3 more times, making himself clench subsequently increasing his pleasure.

Staring at the screen he smirked,” I told you. If I could watch myself I would.”

Danny's fist begins a slow rhythm, the slick wet sounds of lube echoing in the room. He hoped the camera was catching the sound. Pleasure tingles down his spine, and his legs twitch. Huffing he lets go of his cock, reaching down and turning the intensity of his toy up. His eyes roll as he starts rocking his hips, gripping himself in his slick hand he squeezes his base, an ample amount of precum oozing out of his slit, dripping down onto his stomach.

“You were wondering if I made a mess, weren't you?”

His fingers reach down, scooping up the sticky substance before stroking himself with it. His hand picks up speed yet again, moans freely slipping from his lips.

“Fuck it feels good.”

He turns the vibrations on the toy down a couple notches, wanting to draw it out as long as he can. It’s turning him on immensely that there’s a camera recording his every move and even more so knowing that before long, everyone’s going to be watching and obsessing over him. The confidence boost he gets from reading the thirsty comments people make about him on the internet is incredible, knowing they’re looking at him, thinking about him, fantasizing about him.

He works himself to the very edge, not holding back any of the sounds tearing their way from his chest, cock pulsing wildly as his hand lets go and travels downward to turn the vibrations off while his body calms. “I bet you wanted to watch me cum already, didn’t you?” He chuckles, his stare focused on the camera. “Not yet. I’m just getting started.”

Once he feels confident he can touch himself again without losing control, he brings the toy buried inside him to life once more, the sensation sending a shiver through his whole body. A shaky moan passes through his lips as he leans forward slightly, hand reaching to the side table for the stroker he’d laid aside earlier. He flips the cap on the bottle of lube again, squirting a couple drops on the inside of the toy before dribbling a bit more onto his throbbing length. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling as the slicked up toy sucks him in while his entire body feels the effects of the vibrating plug pressed firmly against his prostate.

“Fuck. ‘M so hard…” he whines, fist working the stroker up and down while his hips buck up into it. His free hand trails up his body to his chest, teasing both nipples making him gasp. “God damn, that’s good.”

He furiously chases that high for the second time, moans and whimpers becoming whinier and needier as the white hot pleasure builds up inside of him. Just when he feels like he could topple over the edge and crash headfirst into his orgasm, his hand comes to a stop yet again with the silicone toy still wrapped around him and he clenches his jaw, fighting against the delicious vibrations coursing through him in effort to hold himself back.

Finding his composure again, he turns the toy back up a couple notches, eyes fluttering in euphoria. His hand reaches out to the side table again, finding the final toy he’d selected from his arsenal- his favorite vibrator.

It's a small unassuming bullet vibe, but it feels so good. Danny drips more lube on his cock, his hips still writhing from the vibrations abusing his special spot. Slicking it over his hard length he takes notice how red and flushed it is, being denied relief a few times now, but he's aware it's well worth the wait. His primal instincts gnawing at him to grip himself tight and furiously jerk off until he busts, but he has fans to impress. Wiping the slick off of his non dominant hand, he then reached for his phone off the holder. Propping it on his stomach it's now recording from his point of view. His hips flex into nothing watching himself bob in the air, occasionally twitching, begging for stimulation. He clicks the vibe on and begins running it softly over his length, his cock pulses as he teases himself running it up his length until it rests at his slit. His breath shudders as he teases his leaking slit with the vibrator. He twitches wildly, feeling his balls tightening. They're so full and swollen, he's so ready to cum. Cupping the vibrator into his palm he presses it against the sensitive underside of his cock. The tip of the bullet pressing directly against the sweet spot directly underneath the head of his cock. He whimpers, feeling the burning in his stomach amplify. He wraps his painted fingers around his cock squeezing himself so tight as moans escape his mouth.

“Oh-oh! Fuuuck. I'm gonna- mm I'm cumming, fuck I'm cumming.”

He pulses wildly in his hand, his large appendage flexing with every spurt that streams down his length like a white river.

He drops the vibrator, letting it slip from his palm, and his hand continues to jerk himself, milking every last drop of his orgasm. A few dribbles slip from his slit as his hand works himself. Danny pants heavily, admiring the puddle of his cum that rests in the hair at his base. While his cock begins to soften he runs his fingers through his warm mess, streaking it up his happy trail. He brings his camera forward, raising his hand slightly, the image of his cum dripping off his silver nails in view.

He continues recording as his breathing calms down, letting his phone capture his cock twitching while it softens. Finally he stops recording, reaching down and turning off his plug. He leans over, grabbing the hand towel, he wipes his mess and then carefully removes his toy.

After cleaning himself and his sex toys he sits back down on the chair in his office, completely naked. Danny opens Instagram on his phone, clicking over to his drafts, he does a final once over before releasing it into the world. Hitting 'post' he smirks, the world was about to see it. The post in question? Danny took a picture of himself earlier, it's a picture of his lap with his cock hard and straining in his pant leg. His caption is simple,

danielrwagner: 🫦 danny-swagner//onlyfans.com

A pretty guy in some pretty dresses!

So the guy that picked up Josh is a disgusting person and I can’t even look at those pics anymore. Screenshots under the cut.

Also if you defend this you’re a piece of shit too ✌🏻

Link to OP

Here, Kitty, Kitty/ d.r.w

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ sugar daddy danny, jealousy, sir/daddy kink, degradation kink, pet names (literally), oral sex (m!receiving), teasing, unprotected sex (p+v), cock warming, praise, begging, orgasm denial, squirting, breeding

as always please lmk if any warnings are missed!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The tighter money got, the slimmer your choices did, too. Two jobs could barely pay your bills, but a third wouldn’t fit into the schedule. You’d resorted to selling pictures to people you would quick add on SnapChat. That went well for about a month before the handful of men you relied on for income suddenly couldn’t afford to pay for content. Just as the stress had been alleviated, it returned. That was until you gave in fully and began looking into sugar daddy websites. At this rate you felt you had nothing left to lose, what was a little sex with a creepy old man?

Much to your liking, you found someone much better than a guy old enough to be your grandfather. This one was twenty-five with the build of a Greek god. His profile consisted of a singular photo, one you were sure couldn’t have been his own. You’d began chatting with him and it wasn’t long before he requested an in person meet up. Again, you had nothing left to lose, safety didn’t matter when there was money on the line. He requested to see you on Wednesday, to which you denied due to being scheduled at both jobs.

Danny W. : I’ll pay you what both jobs would if you see me instead

You: Tips and all?

Danny W. : I’ll make it worth your while

From there on out you’d start seeing him every Wednesday at six o’clock sharp. He insisted on picking you up every week, rolling down the street of your slum apartment in his very new black Corvette adorned with tinted windows and red rims. The sex was like no other, not to mention the amount of money he paid you simply for your time. But over the course of two months you found yourself slowly falling for your sugar daddy. He wouldn’t let you leave until you came, more so for his pride than your pleasure, and with that knowledge you’d edge yourself just to spend more time with him. Each week when he took you home, you simply passed time until it was Wednesday again.

What was supposed to be a temporary income, just enough until you got on your feet, became a long term thing simply to keep Danny in company. But you didn’t want NDA’s and Wednesday nights to be your life with him anymore. It started to seem that way from his end, too, when he started casually texting you more than on Tuesday’s to solidify plans. Thursday mornings he would text or call to make sure you were okay after the prior night’s events. Some mornings you woke up to flowers being delivered, even things you needed more so than things he wanted to see you in. It wasn’t a secret he was behind the new couch, especially since he paid to have your car fixed. You liked him taking care of you, but you wanted more from him than an allowance. You wanted to come home every night to him, to call him whenever you wanted, to love him.

While you were patiently waiting for an appropriate time to express your feelings to Danny, you knew there was no shot with him. He’s a rockstar, hence the NDA’s, why would he settle for someone like you? You’d go to pass the time at bars and clubs, shamelessly flirting with men and women for free drinks, even giving head a few times for whatever they’d give you in return. You weren’t particularly proud of it, but you weren’t ashamed either.

Wednesday rolled around again, Danny arrived an hour earlier than the set schedule you’d been following for months now. He called you while you were in the middle of curling your hair, you quickly finished the piece you were working on before answering.

“Hey, can you let me in?” His warm, sultry voice melted you.

“Yes, sir.” You waited for him to hang up, but he stayed on the other end until he heard the locks coming undone. You wrapped your fingers around the knob and slowly opened the door, Danny shoving his foot between the door and frame. He pushed his way into your house, his eyes dark and angry as if he knew something.

“You’re early… I was-”

“Why were you at the club on Saturday?” He pressed himself against you until your back was flush against the wall, his washboard abs firm against your torso. You looked up at him before looking past in attempts to ignore the question, but he wouldn’t let that slide. “Tell me the truth, kitten, or you can kiss your two grand down the drain.”

He’s never threatened to not pay you before. He always left ample opportunity to make more money by doing specific things to or for him, or vice versa, but never the chance to lose any. Deciding the money didn’t necessarily matter, you chose to toy with him. Press his buttons.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say pointedly, batting your eyelashes at him with a pout.

“Eighteen. Wanna try again?” He managed to get closer, your lungs craving air as he applied pressure against your body with his.

“Danny, I don’t-”

“Sixteen. Tell me, did he kiss you like I do?” Closer.

“Maybe even better.” You could feel his blood boiling under his skin. He was jealous.

“Is that so?” He scoffed, pulling away entirely from you. “That mouth would be prettier with my cock in it since all you’re doing is spewing bullshit anyways.”

You watched as Danny made his way to your couch, sitting directly in the middle with his legs spread. His hands slid down the front of his body, trailing down to toy with his zipper and button without ever undoing them.

“C’mere, Kitty girl. If you put that filthy mouth of yours to good use you can go back up to eighteen.”

You nod and make your way before him, lowering yourself onto your knees between his legs. You slide your hands up either of his legs slowly until your nimble fingers make contact with his button and zipper. Carefully undoing his pants, you dipped your hands past the waistband of his briefs before exposing his length to the air.

As quick as your lips wrap around the pillowy head of his cock, Danny’s hand finds a home nestled in your hair. His free hand cupped the bottom of your jaw, guiding your tongue and lips over his shaft. Your head bobbed as you slowly fed more of Danny’s cock down your throat. When your nose was flush against the dusting of hair at the base, he held you there, only removing you when you gagged from the pure size. With his hand nestled in your hair, and tears in your eyes, he pulls you off his length. Only strings of saliva connected you to his cock. Heat grew between your legs the harder he fisted your hair, a whine escaping your lips. You really did sound like a kitten, it’s no wonder he’d bestowed such a nickname upon you. Danny tugged your hair until he brought you to your feet, bringing your lips to his. A stream of air blew from his lips, cooling the saliva that coated your mouth. Hungry for his touch, you tried leaning in to kiss him.

“Look at you begging for forgiveness like a dog. Maybe Kitty doesn’t suit you anymore.” Anyone else speaking to you this way would shatter your ego, but somehow his harsh words were still laced with lust. He tugs your head away from him before letting go of your hair, your cheeks flaming a bright red.

Danny sat up before placing his hands on the exposed skin of your thighs, walking his fingers up the expanse of your skin until he reached your hips. His fingers traced over your bones expecting a waistband of some sort had you bothered to put any on. When he’d realized there were no panties adorning your hips, he opted to press the pads of his fingers into your skin instead. A single ‘fuck’ was uttered as he rutted his hips up into nothing. You knew better than to make a comment about his desperation, but a smile still crept across your face knowing he wanted you. Danny’s face quickly grew annoyed once he caught on to the look you wore.

“Do you like pissing me off, Kitty girl?” He gritted, his grasp growing slightly tighter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

“No? Maybe I need to show you.” Danny spun your body around so your back was facing him, his hands pushing your tiny dress up over your hips. He was quick to break contact again, leaving only the sensation of his fingers behind as he let go of your hips. He hummed at the sight of you, surely your slick coated thighs visible.

“Look at you already fuckin’ soaked, kitten. Want me to fuck you that bad?”

“Yes, sir.” You desperately mewled.

“Show me you deserve it then. Spread it open for daddy.”

You bent at the hips, reaching your hands back to seperate your ass cheeks, exposing your soaked cunt for him to see. His hands found your hips again as he guided you towards him until the back of your legs met his shins. Danny runs two fingers between your folds before hovering over your entrance, never giving you the pleasure of dipping them in.

“Good girl… Now sit back on it.”

You lower yourself onto his lap, fully taking his length in your aching core. Danny wraps his palms around your wrists, bringing them to your back before pinning both down with one of his hands. His free hand wrapped around you, laying flat on your stomach under the bunched up fabric of your dress. He fucked up into you quick and hard until your began to give out. At that point he pulled you down on his length, allowing you to sit on his lap. The head of his cock brushed your cervix as you swirl your hips, squeezing your knees together for friction against your clit.

“Turn around, wanna see you.” He nudged his hips up, groaning when you lifted off of him. You straddled his thighs, hovering your entrance over his leaking tip. It didn’t take long before lowering yourself, teasing him wasn’t worth whatever punishment he’d throw your way. Eager to feel his lips against yours, you leaned in again hoping he’d satisfy your craving. His lips crashed into yours like the ocean’s wave against the shoreline. Burying your hands deep in his curly, brunette locks, you tugged gently. Danny stifled a whimper, careful not to let you think he’d slip up easily.

“Feel so good, daddy.” You moaned into his neck, gently sucking on his skin enough to make him whine but not leave marks.

“Yeah? Like when I fuck your whore pussy?”

You moaned, his pace growing quicker as you grew tighter around him. He knew you were close and he was, too. The feeling washing over you was stronger than before like no other orgasm you’d felt.

“Sir, can I cum?” You needed to, and you knew what his answer would be.

“Not yet, hold on for daddy. M’so close, baby.”

The faster his hips snapped into yours, the tighter the band in your stomach became. His pace wasn’t letting up. What felt like an eternity, but was truly a few minutes, passed before his hips started to falter.

“Go ahead Kitty, you’ll clean up whatever mess you make with that mouth of yours.”

Your orgasm finally came, your senses completely overtaken by your pleasure. So much so you hadn’t noticed a newfound fluid covering Danny’s thighs. You’d squirted all over him, soaking his pants and shirt with your arousal. Danny’s release was quick to follow as he buried himself to the hilt, his warm seed spilling into your throbbing cunt.

“Thank you, sir.” You cried, your body shaking as you came down from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl, Kitty, you take me so well.”

“Fuck, Y/n…” He sighed and wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into his chest in a hug. This was the first time he’d used your name since he met you. He’d call you Kitty and kitten so much they truly started to feel like your name, but something about the syllables of the name you’d had your whole life rolling off his tongue nearly brought you to tears. There was a sense of domestication to it all. Your real name, the kissing, him holding you.

“Yes?” You barely whispered, trying to hold back your emotions over the simple formality of your name.

“Keep fucking me this good, I’ll have to promote you.”

This is so adorable omgggg

There's a smoocher on the loose! 💋

22 with Danny 🥹

Doing each others hair

w/c: 2k

pairing: danny x reader

warnings: showering together but no smut, fluff 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting, I hope you like it!! ♥️

Prompt list here

The main door of your home opened, sending a jolt of panic through you. You weren’t expecting Danny to be home so soon, and your current state was very much reflective of that. Half of your hair was tied up, and the bottom half was doused in hair dye, although, admittedly, very poorly. You had greatly underestimated the dedication it would take to dye your own hair, and your arms were growing more tired by the second. Plus, it didn’t help that you couldn’t quite see what you were doing. The bleaching was an easy process, it didn’t take long and you still had motivation while you were doing it. Once you rinsed it out and blow dried, the mood shifted. You were hungry, tired, and ready to give up on your mission.

You expected to be finished by the time Danny returned home, but the process was taking longer than anticipated. When his footsteps echoed down the hall, you realized that it might just be easier to ask him to help, rather than to send him away. “Y/n?” He asked, nearing the door to the bathroom.

“In here,” you replied, loud enough so he could hear you over the music playing. “Come in.” You added, awaiting the door opening. After a moment, it did. He peeked his head around to get a look at you before he stepped inside. When he caught sight of the scene, he was met with a one that he certainly wasn’t expecting.

“What uh… what are you doing?” He asked, a smile on his lips and a small laugh following the question.

“Baking a cake.” You rolled your eyes. He chuckled, fully stepping inside.

“You need some help?”

“Yes, please.” You sighed. “My arms are killing me.” You set the brush down inside the bowl of red dye and turned to look at him. He lifted your chin, leaning down to place a kiss to your lips while being cautious about touching the dye. You carefully slipped off your gloves, motioning for him to give you one of his hands. When he did, you put it on him. He gave you his other hand so you could do the same.

He grabbed the brush, dipping it in the dye and positioned himself behind you. He was already aware of the process. It wasn’t the first time he’d helped you out, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You were quite keen on changing your hair up every so often, and in a true boyfriend fashion, Danny was always willing to lend a helping hand. “Red this time?” He asked, slowly applying the colour to your freshly bleached hair.

“Yeah, haven’t had it in a while. I thought it would look cool.” You shrugged.

“It will,” he agreed. “I like it already.” You smiled at his statement. He was always so accepting of anything you did, and made sure to cheer you on while you did it. He was the best boyfriend, and there was no arguing that fact. You had already done most of the work; he only needed to touch up the parts closest to your scalp. He worked in almost silence aside from an occasional comment. He finished it up with ease and placed the brush back in the bowl. He gently arranged the dyed portion on top of the towel you had draped across your shoulders. “All done.” He informed you.

“Thank you,” you said, turning to face him. He smiled down at you, just happy to finally get a good look at your face. That was something you loved about him; no matter what you looked like, or how much disarray you were in, he always looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world; like he was so lucky just to be able to be near you.

“Anytime, bug.” He replied, removing the gloves from his hands. Once they were safely on the counter, he grabbed you by the waist and gently guided you into him. He leaned down, giving you a proper kiss. You held him there for a moment, content with the action and realizing how much you’d missed him all day. When you parted, he gazed over your shoulder and looked to the dye that was still left. “What are you gonna do with the rest of it?” You turned, looking quickly at what he was referring to. You pondered, unsure of what you could use it for. You’d overestimated the amount by a little, leaving just enough to make you feel guilty about throwing it away.

An idea sprung to mind, eyes lighting up and a mischievous grin spreading across your cheeks. You turned back to him, letting your gaze fall on the blonde streaks that ran through his mess of dark curls. You reached up, finding a highlight that ran underneath his hair, hidden mostly from initial view. You looked to meet his eyes, just to find him already watching you. “We could match?” He let out a small laugh, already knowing what you were thinking before you said it. “Just an idea.”

“Yeah, why not.” He shrugged. “Just one, though.”

“Of course.” You nodded, feeling the excitement bubble within you. He’d never let you do anything to his hair before, but at the same time, you’d never really asked. “You sure?” You asked for clarification.

“Yeah.” He assured you. “I think it would be cool. And I’d get to match with you, so that’s even cooler.” You felt a blush dust across your cheeks. Even after years of dating, he still managed to make you blush. Even after so much time, you often still felt the nervousness and giddiness of the crush you had on him all those years ago. You hoisted yourself up on the edge of the countertop with your hands so you could sit. Once you were secure in your position, you guided him towards you.

“Take your shirt off.” You said, grabbing the dish of dye. He did as he was told, throwing it on the floor. Your eyes drifted to his now exposed torso, finding your heart speed in your chest.

“Like what you see?” He teased, a smile still stuck on his lips.

“Always.” You breathed, no tone of joking present. Instead of lingering on the topic, you moved most of his hair around to one shoulder, securing it there with the elastic you had around your wrist. Carefully, you separated one streak of blonde. “You can still back out, you know.”

“I’m okay.” He laughed. “It’s just hair.” You couldn’t argue the point with him, because you always said the same thing. Without any further hesitation, you started applying the colour to his hair, too. It only took a few moments to completely saturate the hair, as it was only a tiny amount. Once you finished, you placed the dish back on the counter once more. You shifted slightly, pulling him into you a little bit further. You wrapped your arms around him, enveloping him in a hug. He looked down, careful as to not disrupt any of the hair that was processing the colour, and placed a kiss to your forehead. “How long do we have to wait?”

“‘Till it’s ready.” You hummed, cheek pressed against his bare chest.

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question.” He laughed.

“About thirty minutes.” You said, closing your eyes and appreciating the warmth of his body. “How was your day?”

“Less exciting than yours.” He teased, fingers tracing small patterns into your lower back. “Lots of meetings, preparing for the next tour.”

“Don’t remind me,” you mumbled, your grip on him tightening a little bit.

“So you just decided you needed a change?” He asked.

“Yeah, got bored.” You explained, but he was well aware of your constant need to change up your hair. Over the years, it became normal for him to come home to the bathroom in complete disarray with coloured hair dye and towels all over the place. Often times, he ended up having to finish the job for you, but he never once complained. You thought the change kept things exciting, and he was always happy to see you happy. Plus, he’d think you were the most beautiful person in the world, even if you had no hair. He was in love with you no matter what, and proved it further every day that passed.

Minutes went by, filled with small chatter and many stolen kisses. When the time came to rinse the dye out, both of you thought it was easier to hop in the shower together. You stepped in first, the warm water instantly relaxing you. He let you enjoy the warmth for a moment before he helped you wash the colour from your hair. Once the majority was out, he searched for your shampoo and poured some on his hand. “C’mere.” He beckoned you towards him. You did so, allowing him the opportunity to lather the soap throughout your hair. He did it in a much more gentle manner than you would have, and took some extra time to massage your scalp, easing the tension in your head. Once he was satisfied with the amount of bubbles that had formed, he took it upon himself to try to form your hair into a giant spike at the top of your head.

“Stop,” you giggled, trying to push his hands away.

“No, hold on. I almost have it.” He pleaded. You stopped trying to fight it, in no way able to stay annoyed at him when he looked so happy. After a few moments, he managed to get it to stay up somewhat well. “There. It’s perfect.” He said in triumph. He only admired it for a moment before it inevitably fell. He didn’t dwell on the disappointment, wasting no time guiding you back into the water and washing it out for you. The beauty of the bare intimacy without the intent of anything sexual was overwhelming.

Once the shampoo was washed out, he carefully combed some conditioner through the ends of your hair. You stepped out of the way of the shower head, letting it sit for a few minutes. “Your turn.” You said with a smile. He stepped back into the water, wetting his hair and trying to maneuver himself down so you could comfortably reach his head. You did the same thing he’d done for you, leaving out the mohawk bit, and allowed him to wash the soap away. When it came time for the conditioner, you took extra time coating his hair and combing through the knots. Once you finished, he only gave you enough time to rinse your hands off before he was pulling you into a hug.

“I love you,” he hummed, guiding your face up so he could kiss you.

“I love you.” You mumbled against him, eyes closed in bliss. You both sat for a while, caught in an embrace neither of you wanted to break. Eventually, you parted and finished washing yourselves, then stepped out of the shower. You wrapped yourselves in towels, finding yourselves gravitating back to each others hold. “Thanks for helping me.” You mumbled, face once again pressed to his chest.

“I’ll always help you, bug. That’s what I’m here for.” He said, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Plus, I got a pretty cool hairstyle out of it, too.” You could feel him smile against you.

“We match.” You added, looking towards the steam streaked mirror. You lifted your hand, picking out the thin lock of red hair from his curls. “When you’re gone on tour, you won’t be able to forget me, now.” He let out a scoff, completely dismissing your comment.

“Like I could ever forget about you.” He pulled you a little bit closer, just to show you he meant what he said. “But, we do look super cool.”

“The coolest.” You agreed. “Everybody will be so jealous.” He laughed at your statement, nodding in agreement.

“I love you so much.” He whispered. “You look absolutely beautiful.” He ran his fingers through the freshly dyed hair.

“I love you,” you smiled. “And I have to admit, you look quite nice, too.” He pulled you into another kiss, both of you completely content by just being in each others arms. You knew that it would always be your happiest place, because you were certain you’d never find anyone else who was so willing to join in on your crazy ideas.

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god i love danny he’d be such a good bf, always supportive and nice and sweet and i just love him sm :(

I've gotta make a design for him like this fr

okay but........ 👀👀👀

Josh Kiszka hear me out on this one

Mama, we all go to hell

A little drawing to go with my fic Heaven in Time because I've been thinkin about her

Featuring the sketch cause I also like it:

👀

need a fic where you play with sams hair and he immediately turns into putty in your hands. he'll do whatever you tell him to do so long as you keep twisting and pulling so deliciously on his long locks.

and even better if this discovery happens by accident, your hand getting caught and tugging, pulling a moan from sam that you initially think is pain but once you spot the red cheeks and the glassy eyes you know both of you are in for a treat.

Just Bros

danny x dave x f!reader

warnings: pure, filthy smut. oral m & f rec, threesome, multiple orgasms, teasing, aftercare

THIS IS NOT MEANT TO PERPETUATE ANY TYPE OF SPECULATION AND IS PURE FICTION AND FANTASY, DONT LIKE DONT READ.

You and Dave had been dating for a while, and so far it was going well. He took you on dates, treated you to romantic nights in, and if you were being honest, the sex was amazing. But you had noticed the closeness he seemed to have with one of his friends, a closeness that seemed to be greater than a “we’re just bro’s” could explain. Daniel was nice enough, and he was cute too, but the way your boyfriend acted around him was beginning to raise your suspicions at their friendship. You knew Dave had been with guys before, but he never disclosed which guys.

You took note in the subtle differences of his behavior when Daniel was around, the grazing touches, the looks of subtle longing between the two men, and when Danny confessed to his recent break up, you knew you had to do something. So, you came up with a plan.

It was innocent enough, inviting Daniel over to you and Dave’s shared apartment for a dinner.

You wore an outfit you knew Dave liked, one that did little to hide your skin, one you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist peeling off of you later in the night, you just hoped his friend was willing to lend a helping hand.

There was a knock at the door, signaling that Daniel had arrived, and you knew it was time to put your game face on. Sauntering over to the door and swinging it open, “Danny! We’re so glad you could make it! We’ve been looking forward to this all week.” You cheered, reveling in the way his eyes looked over your body, then flickering over to Daves. You bit your lip to hide the smile as you waved Danny inside. “Thanks for having me!” He said, giving you a gentle hug before crossing and repeating the action with Dave. “Good to see you, man,” Dave said, resting in Danny’s embrace.

Dinner went by smoothly, both men complimenting the meal you had prepared.

After piling the dishes in the sink with a wave of “I’ll get them tomorrow,” you all settled on the couch, a nice bottle of bourbon teasing you from the coffee table. You eyed it with a grin, this is when the fun begins. You grab the bottle by its neck, “Let’s play a game,” you started, smiling slyly, “How about never have I have I ever. If you’ve done something, take a shot.” You eyed the boys next to you, watching as Dave raised a brow in questioning. “C’mon babe! It’ll be fun! Here I’ll go first, never have I ever gone skinny dipping,” you said, spinning the cap off the bottle and taking a swig. You watched a smile spread across Dave’s face as he reached for the bottle, “You think you’re cute, huh?” He asked, before pressing the bottle to his lips. Danny reached for the bottle once Dave was done with his turn, a light blush spread across his cheeks, “Danny, so scandalous,” you teased, “It wasn’t with Dave was it?” Watching as he sputtered and choked on the dark liquid. You smiled devilishly, “Was it?” You pressed, watching the silent conversation between the two men. “W- I. It was-“ Danny started, still coughing. “Babe, c’mon, it was a long time ago,” Dave assured, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Oh don’t worry, I think it’s hot.” You said simply, before grabbing the bottle from a very flustered Daniel before pushing it into Dave’s hands. “Your turn!” You cheered.

Time passed as you shared questions, getting thoroughly tipsy, running through the bottle of bourbon. “Okay, okay. Last question,” you giggled, eyes shining, lips wet as you ran your tongue over them. “Have you-“ you paused, making eye contact with Danny, who was more adventurous than you thought, you’ve come to find out, “Never have I ever thought about having a threesome.” You shared a look with Dave, before eyeing Danny as you raised the bottle to your lips. Your throat was numb at this point, the liquor sliding down with out some much as a tickle. You held the bottle out in offering, “Well?” You sloshed it a little bit as you looked at the two men. It was Danny who reached for it first, looking at you with hooded eyes, questioning you through his look. You grinned as he sipped the dark liquid, watching his Adams apple bob as he swallowed. He gestured the bottle to Dave, seeming to already to know his answer. “Something to share with the class boys,” You asked, leaning back against the couch, legs spreading ever so slightly. So maybe you were being a little bit of a slut, but hey. This was for your boyfriend (and maybe you had been watching Daniel a little too closely at the shows Dave had taken you to).

Dave looked to you, blush spreading down to his chest, “When- uh. We uh, used to like fool around I guess, and- we’ve. We’ve considered the possibility.” And there it is. You gasped, hands coming up to your chest as you feigned shock. “Well isn’t this just a surprise!” You giggled at a joke that wasn’t told. “Y/N, it wasn’t ever like… Like serious,” Daniel said, at with that you sat up, leaning over Dave to meet Daniel’s eyes, “Why not?” You hummed, feeling his breath on your lips from the close proximity. “You can’t possibly think I don’t see the way you two eye each other,” You tease, leaning into your boyfriend, resting a hand on his thigh.

“So tell me boys. Why isn’t it serious?” You ask, eyes darkening, as your hand trails up to rest on Dave’s zipper.

“You’re into this?” Dave asked, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you. “More than you know,” You said, maneuvering yourself so you were sat in between them. “Danny?” You asked, “Yeah?” He breathed, eyes focused on your lips. “Can I kiss you?” You looked over to Dave for approval, grinning as he titled his head in a subtle nod, before looking back at Danny. “Please,” He whispered, before closing the gap between your lips. You moved slowly, keeping your lips connected, shifting so you were straddling his hips, rolling yours against him as he deepened the kiss, his large hands pulling your body into his. You heard Dave shifting around, paying him no mind til he was behind you, tugging your shirt off, breaking the kiss and exposing your chest. “Fuck you’re beautiful,” Danny gasped as he took in this new sight of you. You giggled, leaning back into Dave’s chest, craning your neck so you could kiss him as you rolled your hips against Danny’s loving the feeling of his hands on you. You broke the kiss with Dave, chest heaving, “Bedroom?” He asked, eyes blown wide with lust. You nodded, moving off of Danny’s lap, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

You spread yourself out on the bed, patting the space next to you, Dave took the hint and laid himself out, you waste no time in straddling him, taking in a deep breath as you unbutton his shirt, taking it off of him slowly. You turned, meeting Danny’s gaze from where he stood next to the bed, you reached for him, tugging his shirt off. You moved so were standing in front of him, hands reaching for his zipper. Sinking down to your knees, you tugged his pants down, revealing his boxers, his hard on straining against the thin fabric. “Fuck Y/N,” He moaned from above you, “You want my mouth Danny?” You asked, palming his length. “Shit, yes.” He hissed, and with the confirmation you tugged his boxers down, freeing his dick. “Fuck you’re big,” you breathed, taking in the sight of him. You mouthed against his length before taking his tip in between your lips. A muffled moan from above you caught your attention, looking up through your lashed, the sight was enough to soak your underwear. Dave’s chest heaved as he tangled his fingers in Daniel’s hair, kissing him feverishly. You popped off Danny’s length, “Fuck that’s so hot,” You whimpered before taking Danny back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length, grasping at his hips. You moved your hands around the length you couldn’t reach, you hummed, the vibration pulling a sweet sound from Danny’s throat. You sunk deeper, taking him into your throat, holding back a gag as he began to rock his length into your mouth. You looked up once more, a few stray tears making their way down your face. “Shit baby, you look so beautiful taking his cock right now,” Dave moaned, meeting your gaze. “Her mouth his so good,” Daniel gasped out, tangling his fingers in your hair. “So good,” Dave praised in response.

Daniel pushed you off gently, “Sorry, sorry. I don’t want to cum yet,” He laughed, voice sounding fucked out already. You smiled, “We don’t have to stop at just once,” you said, voice rough from the abuse, giggling at the way his eyes widen. “Come up here baby,” Dave instructed, helping you stand, tugging off your shorts and underwear as he does so. “Lay down, darling. You put this all together, hmm?” He asked, smiling as you nod. “I think a proper thanks is in need then, what do you think Daniel?” You watched for his response, hole clenching around nothing as he licked his lips and nodded. “You should hear the noises she makes when you put your mouth on her. Go ahead, try it.” Dave instructs, his subtle hint of dominance revealing itself. Your stomach tightens as you watch Danny position himself in between your legs. He wastes no time diving in. Tongue sliding beautifully in between your folds, nose bumping ever so slightly into your clit, giving you that delicious stimulation. You gasp as his tongue licks up into your pussy, whimpering as he brings a hand up to gently circle your bundle of nerves. “Let those noises out baby, sing for him. Such a pretty little voice.” Dave praises from his position next to you, running his hands over your body. Your hips buck as you get close, moaning out, “Fuck Danny, I’m close,” you cry, hands reaching down to tangle into his hair. You roll your hips as he works his tongue, “Shit, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” you cry, chest heaving as you works you through your high. Your head rolls back as he slows, heart beating like a drum, you glance down at him, watching as your juices roll down his chin. He wipes it away, “Best meal I’ve ever had,” he laughs as he sits back on his knees, his length still straining against his stomach.

“I want you inside me,” you say, eyes focused on his mouth watering length.

“Beg for it,” He says, seeming to shock everyone in the room, including himself, but he leans into it. “Tell me just how bad you need me to fuck you in front of your boyfriend.”

“Please Danny, I need you to fuck me. I need you so bad, I’ve been thinking of this for so long.” You say, desperation to be full leaking into your tone, not even bothering to check the reaction from Dave. “Shit you were right, Dave.” Danny laughs, “She’s such a slut for it.” You peer up at your boyfriend, a question on your lips, but he beats you to it. He pats your face, “Oh baby, you think we don’t talk about the things we’d do to you? You’re so smart putting this little thing together.” He teases. You open your mouth to retort, but he slips two fingers against your tongue before you can start, “Need me to keep your mouth occupied while Danny fucks you baby?” He asks, smiling as you nod, and suck on his fingers. “Open up darling,” He instructs, pulling his fingers from your mouth as you widen your mouth, he spits into it before shifting, and flipping you over on your stomach, slipping his length between your lips, sighing as you take him, “Shit just like that baby,” he praises, thrusting gently into your mouth. You feel Danny lifting your hips as he lines himself up, moaning around Dave’s length as he slides into you slowly. You rock your hips back to meet his thrusts, taking Dave out of your mouth just for a moment to moan out “Harder,” before Daniel slaps a hand against your ass cheek, “You’ll take what we give you darling, don’t get greedy now.” He growls before picking up the pace.

Dave guides his length back down your throat, ignoring the way you cough and gag around him, Danny’s thrusts driving him further down your throat. The feeling of both your holes being filled is almost too much, but the way Dave’s practiced fingers are massaging your scalp as he uses your throat is enough to keep you grounded. He pulls away for just a second, your moans, no longer muffled, fill the room. “Just had to hear your pretty fucked out moans baby. You know it’s my favorite sound.” Dave smiles, taking in the way you look. Spit smeared against your chin, mascara running as tears slip from your eyes, mouth open, constant puffs of moans falling from your lips.

Dave slips back into your mouth, grunting as you hum around him. You swallow around his length, “Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” He warns, you hum in response, swirling your tongue, and hollowing your cheeks. His thrusts grow sloppy, and he pulls back so just his tip is resting against your tongue. You swirl your tongue around the head, feeling his grip tighten on your hair, “Shit baby, just like that, fuck!” He grunts as he cums into your mouth. “Hold it,” he says, coming down from his high, slipping out of your mouth. He pushes you up until your back is flat against Danny’s chest, his cum still in your mouth. “Good girls share,” He says before connecting your lips, swiping his tongue through your mouth as he gathers up his own cum. You moan as he takes it into his mouth, pressing against you, as he meets Danny’s lips. “Oh shit,” you whine, letting your head fall back against Danny’s shoulder as you watch your boyfriend pass his cum between him and his friends mouths. You can feel Danny’s throat bobbing as he swallows, “Fuck, I’m close,” he pants out, thrusting into you roughly. “Me too,” You whine taking in the feeling of both of their bodies pressed against yours. Dave reaches down to your bundle of nerves, circling around it with two fingers. “C’mon. Cum together,” He pants, attaching his lips to your neck, leaving what’s sure to be a nice mark for tomorrow. Daniel’s thrusts get sloppy and he lets out rhythmic grunts as he thrusts, “Shit baby, I’m gonna cum,” He gasps, and your stomach tightens, bringing you to your second high. “Cum inside me,” you beg, moving your hips down, pressing into the friction Dave is providing against your clit. “Fuck baby, that’s so hot,” Danny grunts, “Fuck,” he whines, driving his hips into you roughly, crying out as he reaches his high. The feeling of him emptying into you is enough to send you over the edge, moaning out his name as you cum, riding out your orgasm, clenching around his length as he comes down.

Dave slows his movements against your clit, and Daniel slides out of you slowly, you gasp at the loss and the feeling of his cum dripping down your thighs. You flop against Daves chest, Daniel joining, laying down with his chest pressed against your back as he buries his face into your neck. “That was great,” Dave says, the first one to speak up. You giggle, before breaking out into laughter, “Yeah, yeah it really was,” you sigh, reaching for Dannys hand, intertwining your fingers. “I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” he giggles, breath puffing against your neck. “We could make this work, y’know. All of us? Properly.” You suggest softly, the post sex glow allowing you to feel vulnerable. “Is that something you guys would want? You’d want me?” Danny asks, meeting Dave’s eyes. Dave nods, “Yeah,” he laughs, “Fuck yeah.”

“We can talk about it more later, for now, cuddles are in order,” you say, shifting so you’re facing Danny, Dave curled against your back, arms around your waist. You press a gentle kiss against Danny’s lips as he presses into you, before falling into that blissful post orgasm daze, a comfortable silence settling over the room as you all bask in the feeling.

YES YES YES

THIS. THIS. THIS. THISS

I am a BIG Five Nights at Freddy’s enjoyer, so when Security Breach came out, my first thought was, omg, Josh would make a great Sundrop!! I mean wouldn't he be the best daycare attendant?

So, I hope you enjoy Sundrop Josh ❤️

Hello yes I'm on my knees begging bestie, may I also receive it

you get no context, enjoy

good evening, Josh asks you out pov

four weddings and a funeral — part one

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Series Playlist ♫

Series Summary: You and Danny haven't spoken in years. When the two of you stumble upon a week of weddings, funerals, and the hotel rooms in between, will fate rekindle your friendship or put the old flames out altogether?

Chapter Summary: The last place you ever expected to see him again was a funeral.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader | Genres: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, mutual pining | Word Count: 3.6k | Chapter Warnings: smoking, drinking, funerals

A/N: Danny's cabin fic! The real one! I'm hoping this one goes better than Wild and Blue - I'm sorry again for abandoning it, but I hope this one makes up for it. Also, this fic has nothing to do with the movie of the same title; I haven't seen it, and I just liked the idea of social events pushing a couple together. I hope you like it, my loves! ♡

Of all the places to be without a lighter, you decided this was one of the worst.

You fished around in your little crossbody bag, already knowing you didn’t have one but hoping you’d get lucky. The American Spirit between your lips was stained with the most neutral lipstick you could find; you figured there was no use looking glamorous for a funeral, and you’d gone for an understated look when dressing in your plain black cocktail dress earlier.

You gave a frustrated huff. You hated funerals, and you’d only gone to this one because your mom hadn’t wanted to make the drive alone. The visitation service was for the relative of a friend of hers from years ago; you didn’t even know her name. You’d made sure your mom was settled talking about the good old times with a few of her friends before you’d stepped out to get a little nicotine in your system.

But, no lighter, no luck. You abandoned your search, leaning on the railing of the gazebo that stood on a hill out behind the funeral home.

You hadn’t been standing there two seconds before cigarette smoke wafted past you, and you frowned in confusion. Looking down, you saw someone standing at the foot of the gazebo, leaning back against the post. He held a lit cigarette in his hand.

“Hey!” you called.

He tilted his head back and looked up at you from under a mop of curly brown hair. 

“Hey yourself.”

“Can I borrow your lighter?” you asked. You came down the stairs and around to the side where he stood without waiting for an answer, and he held his lighter out for you without protest.

“Thank you,” you said, returning it to him and taking a drag. You felt a brief sensation of butterflies when your hand brushed his; he was young, about your age, and almost too pretty to be somewhere so ordinary.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said.

He chuckled. “No problem.” He took a long drag and exhaled through his nose. “Needed a break from all the fun inside, huh?”

You gave a wry smile. “Yeah, I guess. I’m not a huge fan of funerals.”

He raised a brow. “No? That’s strange. Most people love them.”

“Okay,” you conceded, and you couldn’t help but smile when he gave a soft laugh. There was something oddly familiar about him, though you didn’t have the faintest idea where you could have seen him before.

“Were you close with... uh, the deceased?” you asked. You felt bad that you couldn’t remember her name and felt heat rise to your face. “My mom was friends with the family years ago, so I’m kinda just here for moral support.”

He brushed a wayward curl back from his face. 

“Her name was Janet Baker,” he said. “She was a really old lady who lived a good, long life, so it’s not so terrible to see her go. She was ready.”

“Did you know her well?” you asked.

He shrugged. “She was a friend of my grandparents’. My mom spent a lot of time with her. I didn’t really know her, I guess, but it’s nice to see how many people loved her.”

You hummed in agreement. “That is nice.” You finished your cigarette and looked around for a place to throw it out. Your mystery friend held out his hand.

“There’s an ashtray up by the back door,” he said. “I’ll take yours when I take mine.”

“Oh,” you said, putting it in the palm of his hand. “Thank you.”

You looked up at him. “I didn’t even introduce myself before I accosted you for a lighter,” you said with a nervous smile. “I’m — ”

“I know who you are, sunshine.”

You blinked. You couldn’t remember the last time somebody had called you that. It had been over a decade, certainly, and in fact the only person who ever had called you that was a skinny thirteen year old boy who lived down the street from you when you were in eighth grade.

“Danny?” you asked, incredulous.

He grinned, flashing that millionaire smile he’d had even when you were kids. “Yep.”

You stepped back and shamelessly looked him over head to toe, all six-and-some-odd feet of him. He spread his arms and did a twirl for you.

“Not too bad, huh?” he asked.

You almost didn’t know what to say. You’d always figured he’d be a good looking boy, but seeing him now — he’d grown into that lankiness, all broad and strong and lean. His curls were bouncy and healthy, streaked with blonde highlights; his features were dark, defined, and beautiful.

“Uh, no,” you said stupidly. “You look... great.”

His smile was a little crooked. “You’re not too bad yourself, sunshine.”

You were surprised at the flood of butterflies you felt. You’d had a crush on him all those years ago, and it seemed that it had grown up with you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you,” you said. Granted, it was kind of bizarre to run into him again after all these years, especially at a funeral.

He shrugged. “That’s okay. I’ve actually been trying to look as different from middle-school me as possible, so I’m glad it’s working.”

You laughed. “I can understand that.”

He shook his head. “No way. You were always going to be beautiful, sunshine. Even back then.”

You blushed vividly, a surprised and nervous giggle escaping you. “Oh, well, I don’t know about that. But thank you.”

His smile was too genuine and warm for him to be teasing you, and you allowed yourself to enjoy his compliment. You couldn’t let yourself get too far down the rabbit hole, though; you were in a place in your life where you’d be likely to take any attention that was offered, even if it wasn’t in your best interest.

You smoothed your hands over your skirt and tried to think of something intelligent to say. You’d almost settled on something when you felt a drop of rain on your shoulder; you looked up towards the darkening sky and felt a few more drops on your face.

“It’s raining,” you said.

You looked back at Danny to see him watching you with a gentle, decidedly interested gaze.

“Do you want to go back inside?” he asked.

You were a little lost in his pretty hazel eyes. Had they always been that dreamy?

“No,” you said. “I...”

All of a sudden, the heavens opened; rain came fast and heavy, and you would have been drenched if Danny hadn’t grabbed your hand and ran with you around the side of the gazebo and up the stairs. You stopped, a little breathless and damp, under the shelter of the roof while rain poured down around you.

You brushed your wet hair from your face. “It sure is a gullywasher, huh?”

He laughed, and the sound was sweet and musical. “A what?”

You smiled. “A gullywasher,” you said. “A heavy rain that usually doesn’t last that long.”

“I’ve never heard that before,” he said, amused. “But I’m filing it away for future use.”

“I’m pleased to be of service,” you said. The two of you made your way to a bench on the opposite side of the gazebo. “I teach vocabulary for a living, though, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to charge you for that information.”

He raised a brow. “Is that so?” He angled himself towards you on the bench. “And just how much does that word cost, sunshine?”

You smirked. “Give me a swig of whatever’s in that flask you’re hiding, and we’ll call it even.”

“Me, hiding alcohol at a funeral?” he said, aghast. He pulled the flask you’d noticed earlier out of his inside jacket pocket as he spoke. “Do you always assume the worst about people, or am I just special?”

“Whichever one makes you feel better,” you said, taking a drink when he offered it to you. The oaky sweet taste of bourbon spread a pleasant warmth through you that warded off the chill of the rain.

“So, you said you teach vocabulary for a living,” he said, taking the flask when you handed it back and having a drink of his own. “Does that mean you’re a teacher? Or some kind of weird freelance vocabulary tutor?”

You smiled. “I’m a teacher. Elementary school.”

“That’s great,” he said sincerely. “I bet your students love you. How long have you been teaching?”

The two of you talked for a long while as the rain continued unabated, passing the flask back and forth occasionally. He was eager to hear about your life since you’d parted on the cusp of high school, and you found him a more attentive and interested listener than most of the guys you’d ever tried to tell your life story to.

“Enough about me, though,” you said, when you couldn’t think of one more interesting thing to say about your job or your tiny apartment or your failed and infrequent attempts at dating. “I want to know what you’ve been up to, Danny.”

He looked a little bashful, then, and it endeared him to you.

“Well, you remember how I was always messing around with my garage band?” he asked.

You smiled. “Yeah. The neighbors loved you guys, turning your speakers up as loud as possible when you were playing.” You’d always liked the rock n’ roll they played, but you’d never been brave enough to ask if you could sit and watch them practice.

“Your bandmates were brothers, weren’t they?” you asked. “What was their last name again?”

“Kiszka,” he said. “The twins, Josh and Jake, and their brother Sam who’s my age.”

“Oh, right,” you said, remembering well the matched trio that had taken up all of Danny’s time that wasn’t spent with you. “Are you still in touch with them?”

“I am,” he said. “We actually play professionally now.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” you said, sincere and polite, figuring playing professionally meant they had a semi-regular gig somewhere local.

His smile was knowing. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Sure I do,” you protested. You shivered a little as a cool breeze started to cut through the rain.

“We’re bigger than you think we are,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he was trying to stroke his ego so much as he was trying to convince you of the fact. He shrugged his suit jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. 

“What band would you guess we’re kind of in the same popularity bracket as?” he asked.

You were a little embarrassed at being caught out with what he thought was fake enthusiasm, not wanting to hurt his feelings but still unsure he could be as famous as he claimed to be. Wouldn’t you have known if your childhood friend had made it big?

“I don’t know,” you hedged. You burrowed into his jacket, his warmth and the smell of his cologne a heady mix. “I don’t really listen to the stuff on the radio these days.”

“But you know popular songs,” he pressed. “You don’t live under a rock.”

You shrugged. “I guess.”

“Can I play you one of our songs?” he asked. “Just to see if you’ve ever heard of us?”

You smiled. “Go for it.” You were curious to see if you had ever heard it, but you still held your doubts. His band might have been big in the indie scene or something you had no knowledge of, but that wouldn’t do you much good.

He pulled out his phone, hiding the screen from you so you couldn’t see what he was searching. After a moment, the first few notes of a guitar lick started to play, and you recognized it immediately.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you said, giving him a dry smile. “Now show me your song.”

“This is my song,” he said, looking for all the world to be absolutely serious.

“That’s not your song,” you scoffed. “That’s Greta Van Fleet.” You decided to tease him if he was so intent on teasing you. “And if you don’t show me your song, I’ll just assume you were making the whole thing up to impress me.”

He only laughed. “I hope it did impress you, but I’m not making it up. This is my song. I’m the drummer for Greta Van Fleet.”

You have him a fondly exasperated look, over the joke by now. “Sure. And I’m the lead singer.”

Danny grinned. “That’d be something, wouldn’t it?” He gestured to your bag. “Humor me. Get out your phone and look it up.”

You gave a dramatic sigh and pulled your phone out, googling “Greta Van Fleet members”. The page took a moment to load.

“So?” he asked.

“It’s loading,” you told him.

When the page finally popped up, you had to read it more than once to believe what you saw. There it was, in black and white: Daniel Wagner, dum kit.

“You’re not...” You looked up at Danny. “You’re — you’re really the drummer for fucking... Greta Van Fleet?”

“Minus the ‘fucking’ part,” he said. “We tried to pitch it to the label, but they shot us down.”

You could only laugh. 

“How can you — Danny, how the hell can you be so nonchalant about this? You’re, like, famous famous.”

He chuckled. “I told you. Do you like our music?”

“Yeah,” you said sincerely. “I mean, I’m obviously not a mega fangirl for them, uh, for you, if I didn’t even know your names, but...” You grinned up at him, too charmed by his down-to-earth warmth to feel very starstruck. “I think your music’s some of the coolest stuff to come out since they invented classic rock.”

He smiled. “Thank you, sunshine. That’s sweet of you to say. I’m glad you like it.”

You shivered again, and he reached over and buttoned his jacket around you.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything else to give you,” he said. “We can go in if you’re too cold.”

“No,” you said, a little too quickly. You blushed. “I mean... I like sitting out here with you.”

He gave a soft laugh. “I like sitting out here with you, too.” He lit another cigarette, leaning his arm on the railing. “So, sunshine, I gotta know... what’s your favorite Greta song?”

“Hm... I’ll have to think about that one,” you said with a teasing smile. “I really like that one everybody says is a Zeppelin rip-off.”

He rolled his eyes with a long-suffering smile. “Which one?”

You laughed. “I think it’s called ‘Flower Power’. It’s very romantic.”

“I wrote the guitar solo for that one, actually.”

Your smile was delighted and surprised. “Did you really? I thought you said you played the drums.”

“I do,” he agreed. “But I know enough about guitar to write some stuff here and there.” He shook his head. “Jake’s an incredible guitarist. He took what I wrote and made it fantastic when we recorded the song.”

You liked the way affection and admiration softened his features. “What do the others play?”

“Sam plays bass and keys,” he said. “He plays piano like nobody I’ve ever seen. Josh — ” He laughed, like he’d remembered an inside joke. “Josh likes to say he plays the vocals.”

You smiled. “So he’s the Robert Plant devotee.”

Danny chuckled. “You should hear his vocals now. It’s really amazing to hear his growth as a vocalist.” He angled his exhale of smoke away from you. “We did mimic a lot of Zeppelin’s style on our first album, and I wouldn’t change it, but I think we’re starting to come into our own sound. It’s exciting to be experimenting with different stuff and figuring out what we like. Our last album went a different direction to what we’d been doing before, that classic rock kind of thing, and I think it turned out really cool.”

“Sure,” you said, a little dreamy. There was something so alluring about the sound of his voice, the interest in his expression when he spoke. You felt that he could be reading a phone book and you’d be invested in it.

“You’re very polite to listen to me go on and on about it,” he said, sincerity and warmth in his tone. “I must be boring you to tears.”

“Not at all,” you said, shaking yourself out of your dreaminess. You felt your cheeks warm. “I’m sorry. I’m just... still reeling from the fact that we bumped into each other after so long, and that you turned into a rock star since I last saw you.” That was partially true, anyway. You wouldn’t spill that you’d been daydreaming about what it would feel like to kiss him for longer than was strictly appropriate.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Maybe it’s fate that we met again,” he said. “What do you think?”

You didn’t say that it would be just the kind of cruel trick fate would play on you to bring you back the guy you’d always crushed on and have him turn out to be a rock n’ roll god that women threw themselves at in every city.

“Maybe it is,” you said with a smile.

“We should keep in touch after this, so we can stay up to date on major life changes.”

You breathed a laugh. “Yeah. I’ll give you a call when I play Madison Square Garden.”

Danny put out his cigarette and looked out towards the funeral home where people were starting to gather out on the porch. The rain was beginning to taper off; ladies in their shiny black shoes were starting to brave the wet grass to get to their cars.

“Looks like people are starting to leave,” he said, a hint of regret in his voice. He looked back to you. “I was serious about getting your number, if you’d like to share it with me. I’ve had a great time catching up with you.”

“Me too,” you said. You put your number in his phone when he handed it to you, and your fingers brushed again when you handed his phone back.

You stood, and you had the strangest feeling of something slipping through your fingers.

“Hey, Danny,” you said, hesitant. He watched your face with patience and interest and waited for you to continue.

“I don’t know how long you’re in town,” you said, nervously fidgeting with a pull in the skirt of your dress. “You probably have somewhere to jet off to, thousands of adoring fans to see...”

He gave a soft laugh, and it gave you a little spark of bravery as you looked up and met his eyes.

“Do you want to get coffee or something this week?” you asked. “I’m off on spring break, and... well, I don’t know. It might be nice. Maybe.”

He smiled, but there was something less than happy in it that made your spirits sink.

“I’d love to,” he said, and you almost thought he meant it. “But I do have kind of a busy week — I'm trying to cram as much into this break as possible, you know?”

You nodded. “Right, of course,” you said quickly, trying not to let it show how much you’d really, really wanted him to say yes or of course or let me move around my entire rock-god schedule just to have coffee with you. Something along those lines.

He fidgeted a little, like he was upset he’d hurt your feelings. 

“Let me take a look, okay?” he said, and you hated the thought that he was saying it out of pity instead of any real desire to see you again. “I’ll text you.”

You smiled, but it was a little strained. “Sure.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course the drummer for Greta Van Fleet wasn’t going to get coffee with you. 

“Can I walk you back inside?” he asked.

“Um...” You saw your mom among the people on the porch. She waved at you, and you waved back.

“I should probably just go meet her by the car,” you said to Danny, feeling shy around him for the first time. Shooting your shot and getting let down gently would do that to you. “Thank you, though.”

“Of course,” he said. He walked with you as far as the gazebo steps. “Thanks for talking to me, sunshine. I’m glad you didn’t have a lighter.”

You couldn’t help a soft laugh. “Me too.”

You didn’t look back as you made your way over to the porch, and your mom was excited to see you when you came up to her.

“I see you found Danny,” she said, a beaming smile on her face. “His mom and I talked for a long time inside.”

“Did you know they were going to be here?” you asked, walking with her to your car.

She shook her head. “I had no idea. But it was nice to see them again, wasn’t it?”

You got in the passenger seat and leaned your head against the window. “Yeah, it was nice.”

You were halfway home before you realized you were still wearing Danny’s jacket. You felt terrible; you reached for your phone to text him and saw he’d already texted you.

Hey, you stole my jacket! I guess we’ll just have to meet up so I can get it back ;)

You bit the inside of your cheek, willing yourself not to feel that fluttery warmth that was sneaking its way into your chest at the thought of seeing him again.

Read part two!

danny taglist: @tearsofbri @busybeingtrash @myway-late @gotavansleep

fic taglist: @mydarlingdanny @streamsofstardust

gvf taglist: @malany-gvf @spark-my-nature

@gvfrry @ohhey1293 @the-chaotic-cow @mountain-in-springtime @xserenax-13 @stardustjtk @brooke-gvf @weightofdreams-gvf  @jakeydoesit  @gretasmokerising @hayley1623 @doodle417 @finestoflines @brokenbellz @bowievanfleet @s0livagant @strugglingtodoshit @s-u-t @kay-jordan @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavansteph @gretavanbitches @myownparadise96 @luverleaver @weightofdreamz @greatervanfleet @maedesculpaeusoubi @jakekiszkasbestie @pineapple-photographer @baguettejuliette @alexxavicry @levi-wants-ur-bones  @carlybubs @cowboysamkiszka @dannyandthekiszkas @jordierama

sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here!

Rainy Days

Sam x gn!reader

Warnings: None, fluffy :-)

Very short like 500 words

-

You woke to the light sound of rain pattering against the window, the light gray sky coming into view as you shifted to sit up.

Sam was still snoring softly next to you, you smiled as you watched his chest rise and fall.

Rainy days with Sam were always your favorite. Everything seemed slower, gentler. No one was rushing around or hurrying to get anything done. It was nice to take things slow, especially when daring someone in the fast lane.

Sam shifted as he woke, "Are you watching me sleep?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Just a little bit..." you whispered back.

"Creep."

"You love it."

He smiled as he rolled over to meet your eyes, "yeah, I do," he sighed. He turned his head towards the window, eyes lighting up at the sight of rain.

"Perfect day for gardening." He said, smiling spreading across his face. You wrinkled your nose at him.

"Perfect day for mud." You retorted, but you knew he was going to drag you out there anyways.

And he did. After the two of you had finished breakfast, he ushered you out the door, grabbing his tools, not bothering to put on shoes or change out of his sleepwear.

You watched fondly from the porch as he let the rain dampen his hair and his clothes. "C'mon! I need your help," He said smiling, crossing the yard to the garden. You stepped out, letting the feeling of the rain settle over you, you have to admit, it was nice.

you brushed your now wet hair out of your face and crossed to meet Sam in the garden, to which he promptly greeted you with a handful of mud.

You gasped, feeling the cold substance on your skin, "Samuel!"

He smirked at you, "what are you gonna do about it?"

You stepped, trying not to slip on the slick grass, grabbing a handful of mud from the empty planter next you, and launching it at him. Unfortunately for him, it hit him square in the face. You gasped, trying to hold back laughter, "Oh god, babe, I'm so so-"

He cut you off, grabbing a hold of you and wrestling you to the ground, you shrieked as the two of slipped and slid against the ground, effectively covering your bodies in mud. You laughed as you flipped him over, pinning him down, "I win," you said smugly.

Your victory was short lived, because in a matter of seconds, he was flipping you over so your back was on the ground. Your chest heaved as you laughed, trying to dodge the muddy water that dripped from his hair.

"No. I win." He said, before leaning down and planting a kiss on your lips. You tangled your hands in his hair, pushing into his touch.

You sighed as you laid back against the ground, Sam rolling off of you to copy your position, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You laid there next to each other, reveling in the sounds of the rain and each others breath.

Yeah. You loved days like this.

Even though you never ended up gardening.

Rainy Days

Sam x gn!reader

Warnings: None, fluffy :-)

Very short like 500 words

-

You woke to the light sound of rain pattering against the window, the light gray sky coming into view as you shifted to sit up.

Sam was still snoring softly next to you, you smiled as you watched his chest rise and fall.

Rainy days with Sam were always your favorite. Everything seemed slower, gentler. No one was rushing around or hurrying to get anything done. It was nice to take things slow, especially when daring someone in the fast lane.

Sam shifted as he woke, "Are you watching me sleep?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Just a little bit..." you whispered back.

"Creep."

"You love it."

He smiled as he rolled over to meet your eyes, "yeah, I do," he sighed. He turned his head towards the window, eyes lighting up at the sight of rain.

"Perfect day for gardening." He said, smiling spreading across his face. You wrinkled your nose at him.

"Perfect day for mud." You retorted, but you knew he was going to drag you out there anyways.

And he did. After the two of you had finished breakfast, he ushered you out the door, grabbing his tools, not bothering to put on shoes or change out of his sleepwear.

You watched fondly from the porch as he let the rain dampen his hair and his clothes. "C'mon! I need your help," He said smiling, crossing the yard to the garden. You stepped out, letting the feeling of the rain settle over you, you have to admit, it was nice.

you brushed your now wet hair out of your face and crossed to meet Sam in the garden, to which he promptly greeted you with a handful of mud.

You gasped, feeling the cold substance on your skin, "Samuel!"

He smirked at you, "what are you gonna do about it?"

You stepped, trying not to slip on the slick grass, grabbing a handful of mud from the empty planter next you, and launching it at him. Unfortunately for him, it hit him square in the face. You gasped, trying to hold back laughter, "Oh god, babe, I'm so so-"

He cut you off, grabbing a hold of you and wrestling you to the ground, you shrieked as the two of slipped and slid against the ground, effectively covering your bodies in mud. You laughed as you flipped him over, pinning him down, "I win," you said smugly.

Your victory was short lived, because in a matter of seconds, he was flipping you over so your back was on the ground. Your chest heaved as you laughed, trying to dodge the muddy water that dripped from his hair.

"No. I win." He said, before leaning down and planting a kiss on your lips. You tangled your hands in his hair, pushing into his touch.

You sighed as you laid back against the ground, Sam rolling off of you to copy your position, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You laid there next to each other, reveling in the sounds of the rain and each others breath.

Yeah. You loved days like this.

Even though you never ended up gardening.

I should really do some more coloring of sketchbook pieces.

Literally I love the way you draw Josh oh my god

Josh with cheese

this art has a funny backstory and caused someone to unfollow me and kick me out of an art competition LOL

Josh with cheese

this art has a funny backstory and caused someone to unfollow me and kick me out of an art competition LOL

Dirty secrets

S.f.k x f!reader

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Roving Blade

Pirate Captain!Jake X Siren!Reader

Warnings: Slight violence, minor swearing, the usual piratey nonsense, more tags will be added for later chapters

Captain Jacob Kiszka stood at the helm of his ship, The Mirador, the salty breeze tousling his long brown hair as he gazed out over the vast expanse of the shimmering sea. His amber eyes, usually sharp and focused, softened as he watched the sun dipping below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the restless waves.

The crew of the ship, a formidable bunch that Jake personally handpicked to travel with him, moved about with purpose. He gave quick glances to the three most important members of his crew.

There was Daniel Wagner, his best friend and honorary brother. Danny moved with practiced ease as he checked the cannons and gear over once more, his dark, curly hair catching the last rays of sunlight like a halo.

Then there was Samuel Kiszka, the youngest of the Kiszka brothers. His long brown hair trailing behind him in the wind and a smile playing on his lips as he effortlessly climbed up the intricate rigging of the ship to check the sails.

Most important to Jake, there was Josh, Jake's twin and his right-hand man. No one besides Sam and Danny knew much about them. One day, two teenagers just appeared with a ship, their kid brother, and another young boy who they dubbed their honorary brother, wreaking havoc on the seas.

Captain Jake was well known for his conquests, his reputation as a fearless and cunning pirate preceeding him. Tales of his daring escapades and his uncanny ability to outwit even the most formidable foes made their way through the taverns of every port town they passed through.

But amidst the whispers of his legendary exploits, there was a softer side to Jake that few were privy to. It was a deep longing within his soul that even the most precious treasures of the world could not quell.

He had everything he could ever want, except the one thing money couldn't buy.

It was that same longing that brought him to stand alone on the deck most nights while his crew slumbered below.

The night enveloped the ship like a velvet cloak, the only illumination coming from the moon's silvery glow dancing on the restless waves. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, the other keeping him upright as he leaned against the railing, looking out over the dark waters.

Feeling rather melancholic, he softly sang into the vast expanse of the ocean, letting the melody carry his emotions out into the night air, "I dreamed a dream, the other night... Lowlands, lowlands away me John... My love she came, dressed all in white..."

It wasn't often he sang, even when the crew would break into various shanties during the day. He'd let them have their fun, only joining in for a line or two. But when it was just him, the sea, and a bottle of booze, he let himself relax fully.

"I dreamed my love came in my sleep... Lowlands, lowlands away me John... Her cheeks were wet, her eyes did weep... Lowlands away..."

Far below where Jake stood, something stirred, roused awake by his singing. They swam up from the depths, and a ripple broke the surface of the water as they peeked above with a curious tilt to their head.

Their wide eyes held a mix of wonder and wariness as they regarded the figure of the pirate standing on the deck above. They couldn't help but sing along with Jake, completing the melody.

Their voice was like liquid silver, weaving through the night air with a hypnotic quality. The soft, melodic tones wrapped around Jake like a gentle embrace, harmonizing in a way that felt almost otherworldly.

Jake turned, drawn by a sensation he couldn't quite explain, to see the source of the enchanting hum. He felt almost sleepy as he took a step forward, then another, before climbing up on the railing, desperate to get to the source of the voice.

"Jake!"

Before Jake could tumble over the ledge, he was yanked back on deck by his twin, Josh. The sudden jolt of being pulled back from the edge of the ship brought Jake back to his senses, his heart pounding in his chest as he stumbled backward.

Josh's grip on Jake's arm was firm, his expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. "What the hell are you doing, Jake? Are you trying to take a dive into the ocean in the dead of night?"

Shaken from the trance-like state that the mesmerizing voice had cast upon him, Jake blinked rapidly, his mind struggling to catch up with the abrupt return to reality, "I... I heard something, Josh. A voice, singing. It was... enchanting," he stammered.

Josh arched an eyebrow, casting a wary glance over the empty, dark waters that surrounded the ship. "Enchanting, you say? Are you sure that bottle of whiskey hasn't played tricks on your ears, brother?" His tone was laced with slight amusement, though beneath it lay heavy concern for his twin's well-being.

"I'm telling you, Josh, I know I heard something," Jake repeated. His amber eyes searched the darkness beyond the ship, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the source of the ethereal voice that had captivated him moments ago.

Josh knew Jake to be a man with an open mind, but the notion of a mystical encounter with a creature of legend seemed too fantastical even for Jake's vivid imagination. Yet, the intensity in Jake's gaze concerned Josh.

"Jake, you've been drinking too long. Your mind is playing tricks on you," Josh remarked, "We should get you to bed."

Jake didn't oppose him this time, choosing to let Josh lead him back to his quarters. Despite Josh's attempts to reassure him that it was just the alcohol playing tricks on his senses, Jake couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to that voice that had reached out to him in the night.

He knew something was out there, and he knew he would find it.

--

The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the small porthole in Jake's cabin, casting a warm golden glow over the rumpled sheets of his bed. As he slowly stirred from his slumber, a dull ache reverberated through his skull. With a groan, he raised a hand to his temple, trying to ease the throbbing sensation.

Blinking his eyes open, Jake's gaze fell upon the scene before him. He was still mostly dressed, the fabric rumpled from a restless night's sleep. A heavy sense of unease settled in his chest as he took in the sight of the empty whiskey bottle lying on its side, its contents drained to the last drop.

With a determined shake of his head, Jake pushed himself up from the bed, his bare feet meeting the cool wooden floorboards of his cabin. He pulled his boots back on, lazily fixing his clothes and running his fingers through his hair to untangle any knots.

As he made his way above deck, the salty tang of the sea air greeted him, mingling with the crisp morning breeze that tousled his long brown locks. His crew was already up and about, milling about purposefully as they prepared to get moving once more.

"Captain! How are you this morning?" Josh jogged up to Jake, lowering his voice once he was close enough, "You all good after last night, Jake? Ya had me a bit worried with all your talk of "enchanting voices" calling you out to sea."

"Don't worry, Josh, I'm fine," Jake replied, giving him a reassuring grin.

Josh nodded, though unconvinced. Still, he didn't press the issue further; once they were out of these waters, they'd be far enough away from whatever had caused Jake to nearly go overboard.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a brilliant shine over the endless expanse of the sea. The ship cut through the waves with a rhythmic cadence, the creaking of the timbers, and the flapping of sails providing a backdrop to the bustling activity of the crew.

As the day wore on, Jake found himself drawn back to the railing, the memory of the voice from the night before lingering in his mind like a half-remembered dream. He scanned the horizon, his gaze searching for any sign of the mysterious singer who had captivated him.

But the vast ocean offered no clues, no hints as to the identity of the voice that had reached out to him in the darkness. Disheartened yet determined, Jake turned his attention to his duties as a captain, barking orders and overseeing the crew as they worked tirelessly to navigate the ship through the unpredictable waters.

It took them only a day to land in the next port town. It was little more than a speck on the map, and the locals were (rightfully) unsure how much they liked the presence of Jake and his crew. But once Jake provided them with a hefty pouch of coins in return for their stay, they seemed to relax around the visitors.

While the rest of his crew made the most of their short time on land, Jake stayed by the beach, lost in thought. He didn't hear someone approach from behind him until a hand landed upon his shoulder.

Startled at the unexpected touch, Jake jumped, whipping around with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He relaxed once he realized it was only Danny.

"Sorry, Jake, didn't mean to scare 'ya there," Danny chuckled, raising his hands in surrender, "I just came to see if you were alright. Josh was tellin' us that you had quite the experience last night."

"I already told him I was fine. Nothin' I can't handle," Jake scoffed, "I just drank a bit too much is all."

The sun hung low on the horizon now, casting a warm golden hue over the sandy shores. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their raucous cries mingling with the distant sounds of the bustling port town.

"I know you, Jake. You don't really think that," Danny's voice cut through the other sounds, matter-of-factly challenging Jake's earlier dismissal.

Jake's amber brown eyes flickered with frustration as he turned to face Danny, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his expression, "No, I don't. I know I heard something out there, and as much as I want to believe it was anything else, a part of me knows what it was."

In all honesty, Jake knew what it was from the moment he was pulled back from nearly jumping overboard.

Sirens, mermaids, water nymphs – the names swirled like a tempest in his thoughts, each one carrying with it a weight of ancient legends and cautionary tales.

He knew the stories, the warnings whispered by seasoned sailors and woven into the very fabric of maritime lore. The enchanting melodies that lured unsuspecting souls to their watery graves, the haunting beauty that masked a deadly intent. The descriptions varied, but the outcome was always the same – a fate sealed by the irresistible call of the sea.

Danny's voice carried a note of urgency, a sailor's instinct honed by years spent navigating treacherous waters, "If we're on the same page, then I reckon we should probably leave these waters sooner rather than later. The longer we stay, the more likely we'll lose someone-"

Jake, his jaw set in a firm line, cut him off before he could finish, "No. I'm not running away with my tail between my legs like a scared mutt."

"But Jake-"

"If you all want to stay ashore, then go ahead. I'll go on my own if I have to."

Realizing he was getting nowhere with this, Danny sighed and stood up, "I'm with you if this is something you need to do, Jake. I trust you." And with that, he turned and headed back up towards the town, presumably to tell the others what Jake had decided.

Call it bravery, call it greed, Jake didn't care. If it really was a creature of myth that tried to call him to the sea, he had to see it for himself.

Upon returning to his crew, Jake said only one thing.

"Lads, it's time to go fishing."

-----

Jake knew it wouldn't be easy to catch a Siren; as far as he knew, it's never been done. The moon hung low in the sky, its silvery light dancing on the gentle waves that lapped against the sides of the ship.

The air was heavy with anticipation, a palpable energy that crackled in the salty breeze. Jake stood at the helm, his eyes fixed ahead and his heart pounding with excitement. The familiar weight of his sword at his side was a gounding presence, a reminder of the danger he was putting himself and the rest of his crew in.

The crew worked swiftly and silently, their movements guided by the rhythm of the ocean. The sails billowed overhead, and lanterns cast a warm glow on the deck, creating long shadows that danced with the gentle sway of the ship.

As they sailed further into the darkness, the stars above seemed to multiply, sprinkling the sky like scattered diamonds. The night was alive with the symphony of the sea – the creaking of the ship, the soft lapping of the waves, the distant cries of seabirds.

He had told them all his plan to catch this mystical creature earlier in the day.

First, they would head out to the approximate location they had been at the first time Jake heard the singing. Once there, the rest of the crew would turn out the lights and stay silent while Jake lured it out. And finally, if that worked, they had just the thing to capture it.

Months before, Danny and Sam had come to Jake with an idea of theirs - a smaller sized cannon that could launch a net much farther than the crew could throw it. At first, Jake had dismissed the idea as nothing more than a fanciful whim, a contraption that seemed more suited for a circus act than a pirate ship.

But now, he found himself reconsidering their proposal. After employing the help of a blacksmith in town and testing it out many times, their net contraption was ready for use.

When they dropped anchor, the ship rocking gently against the current was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. Jake stood at the edge of the deck, rough rope tied securely around his waist, a lifeline in case the plan went awry. Josh had insisted upon everyone being tethered down, unwilling to go through with the plan without it.

The rest of the crew got into position, staying silent and hidden so as not to alert their target of any danger. Sam and Danny waited for the perfect moment to launch the net, while Josh kneeled beside the rope keeping his twin tethered to the ship, just in case anything went wrong.

With everything ready and in place, Jake began to hum a tune, hoping it would draw the siren, or whatever it was, to him once more.

An hour passed with no sign of any response, and Jake began to grow doubtful of his plan working. The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, the only sounds the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull, the creaking of the ship as it swayed with the current, and the occasional distant cry of a seabird

The moon hung like a silver coin in the sky, casting a ghostly light over the dark waters. Jake stood at the edge of the ship, his heart heavy with uncertainty. His amber brown eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of movement, any glimmer in the darkness that would signify the presence of the elusive creature he sought.

The crew, hidden in the shadows, watched with bated breath, their anticipation palpable in the still night air. Danny's brow furrowed, his trust in the plan wavering as the minutes passed. Sam shifted from one foot to the other, anxiously tapping his fingers against his thigh as he waited. Josh remained close to the tether, his hands gripping the rope tightly as he kept a vigilant watch over his twin brother.

As the minutes ticked by, doubts crept into Jake's mind. What if there was nothing here? What if this was all a wild goose chase, brought on by wild maritime tales? Had he really been so foolish?

Just as he was about to call it all off, a soft melody began to weave through the stillness of the night.

"My heart is pierced by cupid, I disdain all glittering gold... There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold..."

A dim light could be seen just a few meters from the side of the ship, ripples disturbing the water as something poked its head above the waves. And this time, Jake kept his eyes on it.

Even in the dim moonlight, he could see the way the its skin seemed to have an unearthy shimmer to it, like the surface of a pearl. Wide, large eyes stared back at him, and he yearned to get just a little closer to them.

"His hair it hangs in dark waves, his eyes like amber coals... my happiness is with him, wherever he may go..."

Just as Jake leaned closer, half his body over the railing, Josh held the rope tight and shouted, "Now!"

The command pierced through the night like a cannon blast, igniting a flurry of movement on the deck. Sam and Danny sprang into action, their trained muscles working in perfect synchrony as they released the tension on the contraption. The makeshift cannon roared to life, propelling the net with incredible force towards the shimmering figure in the water.

There was no time for them to dive back below the waves. The net soared through the air, a tangled mass of ropes and weights hurtling towards the mysterious creature that had entranced Jake with its haunting melody. The impact was like a thunderclap in the silent night, the net enveloping the creature in a cacophony of splashes and thrashes. The water frothed and churned as the siren fought against its restraints, desperate cries echoing across the dark expanse of the sea.

Jake, his heart pounding in his chest, felt a surge of adrenaline as he regained his awareness. His eyes blazed with determination as he took control of the situation, his voice cutting through the chaos with authority, "Pull, boys! Bring it up on deck!"

It was clear that after only a few minutes, their target was tired out, the thrashing and fighting much weaker than before. With one last pull, they were dragged from the water and up to the deck of the ship.

They were more beautiful than Jake ever expected. Those wide eyes seemed to look through Jake, as if seeing something in him that he could not. The iridescent sheen of their skin was mesmerizing, akin to the lustrous glow of a priceless pearl. The scales adorning their tail shimmered in the moonlight, each scale glinting like a precious stone.

Jake kneeled down, tilting his head to the side as he stared deep into the eyes of something he'd never seen before. It blinked once, and then...

You blinked again, staring into the deep amber eyes of Captain Jacob Kiszka.

Chapter 2:

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Photo by @no-other-mashter

Pirate Captain!Jake X Siren!Reader Roving Blade Warnings: Slight violence, minor swearing, the usual piratey nonsense, minor sexual implica

Sammy Kiszka hear me out and wear these outfits please (especially the skirt)

You know how pirates would have a symbol branded on their hands showing they were a pirate? I figured why not do the same thing, but make it the caravel symbol 🤭

Captain Jake Kiszka, the most feared pirate on the seas.