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1 year ago

Whatever you do, don't think about the fact that their love language is physical touch.

Whatever You Do, Don't Think About The Fact That Their Love Language Is Physical Touch.
Whatever You Do, Don't Think About The Fact That Their Love Language Is Physical Touch.
Whatever You Do, Don't Think About The Fact That Their Love Language Is Physical Touch.
Whatever You Do, Don't Think About The Fact That Their Love Language Is Physical Touch.

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1 year ago
-Spoil You Rotten-
-Spoil You Rotten-

-Spoil You Rotten-

Sam Kiszka/Reader

18+ Only!

You were only here because it was your best friend's birthday. You'd never spend this much money for a night out at such a fancy restaurant otherwise.

Your eyes scanned the room, searching for your best friend among the sea of well-dressed patrons. Every woman seemed to be draped in luxurious fabrics, their jewelry most likely more expensive than your car. Men donned in tailored outfit exuded an air of confident sophistication that you just couldn't mimic.

You, on the other hand, felt out of place in your simple ensemble, its lack of embellishments a stark contrast to the attire around you.

You shuffled past a waiter who side-eyed you a bit, finally catching a glimpse of your friends familiar hair. She grinned and waved you over, gesturing to the seat beside her.

"Hey, you made it!" She exclaimed. Her grin widened, causing you to smile as well, her joy infectious.

Your eyes glanced at the various faces at the table. You recognized nearly all of them, most being mutual friends of yours. One, though, you've never met.

He wore a purple and white bleached button up shirt, though it was half-unbuttoned, exposing his soft chest. An expensive looking gold pendant hung around his neck, the gold glinting back at you in the gentle candlelight around the table. His short chestnut hair was pushed back out of his face, showing off his honey brown eyes and a little scruff of facial hair. His lithe fingers delicately lifted the champagne glass up to his lips, your eyes following it without thinking.

Okay, you admit that this stranger was pretty. His eyes met yours for just a moment, a slight smile gracing his lips.

"Oh, Y/N, this is Sam. He and his brothers are good friends of mine, and-" Your friend kept explaining how she knew him, but to be honest, you weren't paying attention.

Sam... so that was his name...

"It's nice to meet you, Sam," you say, your voice a little breathless as you extended your hand towards him. Sam's honey brown eyes sparkled mischievously as he took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His grip was firm, yet gentle, his fingers calloused but palms soft. Your face suddenly felt a bit warm.

"Nice to meet you too, sweetheart," Sam replied in a playful tone. He released your hand and, with a teasing wink, knocked back the rest of his champagne.

Your friend leaned over, her laughter bubbling up from her lips, "He's always like that, pay him no mind," she said, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. You couldn't help but join in her laughter, the tension from the momentary exchange easing as a sense of familiarity settled in.

As the dinner progressed, your focus shifted back to the party for your friend. Everyone presented her with various gifts; a new pair of shoes, the book series she's been eyeing for a while, a whole box of cookies from her favorite local bakery, an expensive gold bracelet from Sam, and from you, a simple hand-knit scarf.

Your gift seemed ordinary in comparison, but when she wrapped you in a tight hug you let go of your anxieties, knowing she loved it just as much as she did everything else.

You caught Sam's gaze again out of the corner of your eye, that mischievous glint in his eyes again.

"That's a great scarf, Y/N..." He mumbled, a slight twinge of admiration worming its way into his voice, "You're pretty good with your hands, eh?"

Your cheeks flushed crimson, the heat spreading across your face like wildfire. There were a few chuckles as you looked away from Sam, unsure if he was complimenting you or making fun of you.

You shook your head and tried to ignore it as a waiter came over to take your dinner orders. You silently paled at the prices, wondering if it was worth next week's groceries for a nice dinner tonight. Your decision was made for you when Sam spoke up.

"I'll pay for everyone tonight."

A few polite objections came up, but he waved them off with a chuckle, "Nope, I've already decided. Order whatever you guys like, I've got the bill handled," His eyes met yours and, for a second, you felt like he was speaking to you directly, "Let me spoil everyone a bit."

You still tried to order something inexpensive, then leaned over to your friend.

"Hey," You whispered, "Is he really gonna pay for everyone's food?"

"Oh yeah, he is. He does this all the time," She replies with a quiet laugh, "He won't take no for an answer, so don't even try."

"How does he even have so much money?" You ask in a hushed whisper. Sam didn't seem to dress excessively lavish or anything, so his apparent wealth was surprising.

"Oh, you didn't know? He's a musician, he and his brothers. They're all in a band."

You sputtered a bit, covering your noise of surprise with an awkward cough. The first chance you got, you pulled out your cell phone, tucking it under the table a bit and typing the band name into Google.

"Holy shit..." You mumbled to yourself. Sam was a celebrity?? You shouldn't have been surprised, really; the guy oozes charisma and your friend has always had a knack for befriending popular people.

You looked him up and down again, looking away when you realized he had caught you staring. Trying to avoid his gaze, you accepted a glass of wine offered to you, sipping it quickly.

"Let's raise a toast to the birthday girl!" Someone suggested, everyone agreeing.

You risked another glance at Sam as you lifted your glass, and promptly gripped the table as hard as you could.

Sam's eyes never left yours as he raised his wine glass, an unreadable expression on his face. His other hand, though, subtly pulled at the front of his shirt, exposing one of his nipples.

Fuck... He was flirting with you, wasn't he??

As soon as the toast was said, you all but chugged your wine. You were way too sober for this situation, face red and hot. Sam seemed unbothered, laughing with the others like nothing happened.

"You should go for it."

The sudden whisper from your friend surprised you, nearly giving yourself whiplash from how fast you turned to look at her.

"W-what?"

"Sam. You should totally ask him out. I bet he'd say yes."

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head, "There's no way. He's cute and all, but I'm just a nobody."

Your friend had this look on her face, like she knew something you didn't.

"It's your choice, but I think you should do it."

The quiet conversation between the two of you trailed off as the party neared its end. The lively atmosphere that had filled the room seemed to fade into a soft hum, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears. You had indulged in a few glasses of wine at this point, the liquid adding a gentle sway to your movements. The champagne from earlier had only heightened the intoxicating haze that enveloped you.

As you stood, you could feel a slight wobble in your steps, your mind momentarily disoriented by the heady mixture of alcohol and emotions in you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and wished everyone a good night.

A a chorus of farewells and well wishes met your ears, but you dared not risk a glance in Sam's direction. You knew that if your eyes were to meet, all your resolve to go home without making a fool of yourself would crumble like a sandcastle at high tide.

Instead, you focused on getting to your car and back home. You dug around for your keys, blinking away the double vision that appeared for a minute. Maybe you shouldn't drive. But, you couldn't just leave your car here...

A warm, calloused hand snagged your keys from your unsuspecting grip.

You whirled around, your eyes widening as you caught sight of Sam standing there with a gentle grin on his face, your keys held delicately between his fingers. The flickering lamplight cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the twinkle in his eyes.

"I, ah, don't think you should be driving, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, melodious timbre.

"I... I can handle it," you mumbled, your voice betraying your uncertainty as you reached out instinctively for your keys. But before your trembling fingers could grasp them, Sam swiftly moved his hand out of your reach, his eyes never leaving yours.

"No, you really shouldn't," he insisted gently, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "It's not safe, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

You watched as he let himself into the driver's side of your car, gesturing to the passenger seat.

"Well?"

"What?" You asked, not understanding.

"Are you gonna get in so I can drive you home or do you need me to help you into the car?" He asked, a small chuckle slipping out.

Drive you home?? You just met the guy tonight, and still had no clear read on him or his personality, and he had spent all night sort-of flirting with you. The logical thing would be to turn him down and just call for an Uber.

But... you couldn't lie. He was pretty, he seemed nice enough, and damn it, it's been a while since you'd went home with anyone. So, after shooting your friend a quick text, you climbed into the passenger seat of your car and told him the address so he could pull it up on his phone.

You hoped this wasn't a mistake.

The car ride was silent for a while. You stared out the window as Sam drove, occasionally taking quick glances at his reflection.

He really was pretty. There was a feminine charm to him with his soft skin and delicate limbs, but his strong features and low voice that made your knees weak gave him a masculine energy that turned heads.

When he met your gaze this time, you didn't look away.

"Y/N, you're staring," He teased, looking unbothered.

"Yeah..." You replied, wiping your sweaty palms on your thighs.

"You seem to do that a lot."

"I have... recently..."

"Mhm... I see."

The car was quiet again, too quiet. You could feel the tension in the air, and it was driving you crazy.

"Thanks for paying for everyone tonight. That was generous of you." You mumbled, hoping to break the awkward silence.

The soft illumination of the passing streetlights painted delicate shadows on his face, accentuating the contours of his features as he spoke, "I like spoiling people..." He glanced over at you, "And you looked like you could use a bit of spoiling."

Your face burned red at that, but you managed to pull a response from your lips. "I, um... thanks. I really appreciate it, Sam. If you ever want, I can pay you back..."

"Nope." Was his simple response.

"But-"

"Nuh-uh. I have more money than I know what to do with, Y/N. I'll gladly spend it on a dinner with my friends. I mean, what else would I use it on? Another piano? Trust me, I don't need you to pay me back."

You snickered at his words, grateful for his relaxed energy.

"Alright, alright. I'll let you spoil me, but only this once," You teased back as he pulled into the driveway of your apartment complex. It was then that you realized something, "Wait... how are you gonna get home?"

He shrugged, "Ah, I figure I'll call an Uber or something."

You shook you head and, before you could think about it, words tumbled out of your mouth, "How about you spend the night?"

Even Sam seemed a bit taken aback by your offer, his eyebrows wrinkling in surprise.

"You don't have to do that, I don't even live far-"

"I want you to."

And there was that tension from before. Maybe the alcohol in your system was giving you a boost of confidence, or maybe you had finally gone crazy, but you repeated what you had said, slower this time.

"I... I want you to stay the night, if you want to."

He nodded, his eyes darker than before, "Yeah. I want to."

----

You'd be embarrassed about it later, but you pounced on Sam the second the door closed behind you both, your body moving with an urgency you didn't know you possessed. You pushed him up against a nearby wall, hands finding their way into his soft chestnut locks as his moved to your hips.

"Mm- fuck, babe..." Sam gasped as you both pulled away for air, "I knew you were desperate but damn."

You used the hand still buried in his hair to yank his head back, giving you room to bite at his throat. A whine clawed it's way out of his throat at the sudden sting of his hair being pulled and teeth on his neck. You giggled against his pulse.

"Who's the desperate one now?"

He rolled his eyes, gripping your hips tighter and pulling them flush to his.

"Oh, shut up and kiss me again," He mumbled, grinning against your cheek.

You two made your way to your bedroom, stumbling down the short hallway and fumbling with your doorknob for a moment before finally getting it open. Sam cornered you against the edge of the bed, his lips never leaving yours. You let your hands wander down to his pants, teasing the button with your fingers.

"Can I...?" You mumbled when he pulls away for a breath.

A low whine slipped from his lips, "Please."

You chuckle, your fingers trailing over his zipper, "Oh... I like it when you beg like that."

"Fuck, sweetheart..."

Sam didn’t stay dressed for very long after that, tossing clothes haphazardly onto your floor to find later.

Your eyes traced the contours of Sam's thin frame, absorbing every inch of him. His sharp shoulders tapered down to a slender, delicate waist and arms sculpted from years of being a musician. The soft glow of the moonlight cascading through the parted curtains highlighted the subtle lines and curves of his body, making him look softer somehow. A trail of hair, sparse yet enticing, led your eyes down to his cock, already hard and weeping against his abdomen.

"You see something you like?" He asked, a cocky grin on his face.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, pushing him onto his back and clambering into his lap. You felt him tense in anticipation beneath you as you let your hands wander over his chest, just feeling his skin beneath your palms. He gasped when you teased a nipple before moving to the other side, mirroring the action.

"...good boy..." You mumbled, not fully aware you even said it aloud.

The reaction was immediate. Sam arched his back, grinding his erection against your core with a high-pitched whine. You were surprised by the intense reaction, not expecting two little words to do so much for him.

"Did you like that?" you asked, your voice a whisper against his ear, your lips brushing gently against his jaw. You felt his body tremble beneath you, his breath hitching in his throat.

"Y-Yeah... I liked it..." he mumbled, his voice barely audible, his blush deepening. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a flush of warmth spreading across his cheeks and trailing down to his chest, contrasting against the pale expanse of his skin. His eyes, now darker than before, were locked on you, awaiting your next move.

You decided to give in for now, keeping eye contact as you scooted down the bed, positioning yourself between Sam's legs. He sat up, his own eyes filled with anticipation and excitement. The air was heavy with the heady scent of desire, thick and intoxicating, as you let your breath ghost over his cock. Your warm exhale sent a shiver down his spine, causing his member to twitch.

Sam's hands trembled slightly as they reached out, his fingers gently tangling in your hair. You gave him a disapproving look.

"Good boys are patient, Sammy... I'll let you hold my hair so long as you don't try to rush me," You warn, leaning into his touch.

"I'll be good..." He replied, not looking away.

And without another word, you leaned in and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. Sam tensed, trying to hold back any sudden movements as a groan slipped out, his grip on your hair tightening instinctively.

The room seemed to hum with anticipation, the sound of your breathing mingling with his low moans. As your tongue traced along the sensitive ridge of his arousal, his hips twitched involuntarily, a small gasp escaping his lips.

He was doing so well at being patient, until...

His hips jolted up as you took the head into your mouth, causing you to gag. You pulled off immediately, not missing the disappointed whine your actions caused.

"Wha-"

"I told you to be still and be patient, didn't I?" You ask. A mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you rub your cheek against his thigh, relishing in the softness of his skin against your face, "Bad boys don't get rewarded, Sammy..." you tut, playfully shaking your head.

Sam's breath hitches at the combination of your words and actions, his pupils dilating as desire courses through his veins.

"I won't do it again."

You shake your head, "You need to say sorry, sweetheart, " you say, using that nickname he used on you.

When Sam kept his lips shut, you grinned.

This was getting good.

"Is my good boy going to be a brat now?" You ask, running a fingertip up to the slit of his cock, teasing it as a bead of precum leaked out, "That's a shame. I guess I'll have to just punish you..."

You wrapped a hand around his cock, drooling onto it to lubricate the slide as you began jerking him off. He clearly seemed confused, not expecting you to continue getting him off. All the teasing seemed to have worked him up quite a bit; it was clear he was already getting close. He was nearing that edge, nearing that tipping point, and then...

And then, you let go, backing off completely.

"No!" Sam gasped, his voice filled with desperation, "Why'd you stop? 'M so close..."

"Bad boys don't get to cum," you replied as you hovered just out of his reach.

Sam's eyes widened, need shining in their depths. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths coming out in short, uneven gasps. He tried to reach for his aching member, his hand trembling, but you swatted it out of the way.

"Don't make me tie up your hands, Sammy..." You threaten, but place a gentle hand on his thigh, a silent, "Is this okay?"

Sam gave the faintest nod, so you pushed onward.

"If you say please, maybe I'll forgive you."

Sam kept his mouth shut.

Well... on with the show.

He got worked up much faster this time, his hands twitching from their spot at his side as you tightened your grip on him. The raw intensity in the room was palpable, a potent mix of desire and anticipation, as your fingers wrapped around Sam's throbbing length. His breath hitched in his throat, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. His eyes were glazed over, his pupils dilated as he watched you.

"You getting close again, baby?" You ask, grinning when he nodded.

Again, before he could finish, you pulled your hands away. He let out a frustrated sob, so close to finishing that even the smallest touch could send him over the edge. His fingers curled into his own hair and he finally gave in, his voice rough from desperation.

"P-please... let me cum..." He begged, tears in his eyes, "I'll be a good boy, I promise! Please!"

Satisfied with his begging, you leaned up and kissed him, trailing your lips down his body.

"There's my good boy..." You mumbled, before taking him into your mouth. He barely lasted a minute, so close from your previous edging. You cringed slightly at the bitter taste of his spunk in your mouth, but it gave you one last idea. You crawled up and pressed your lips to his again, shivering as he tasted himself.

You collapsed beside Sam, making sure to give him plenty of attention as he came down from his orgasm. You kissed the tear tracks that ran down his cheeks and gently ran your fingers through his hair, cradling his lanky body to yours.

"Was that okay?" You ask quietly.

"More than okay, sweetheart..." He replied with a smile, wrapping his arms around you, "Though I think I'm due for some cuddling now."

"Now that's something I can do."

----


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Sam Kiszka really be like “I hate modern things and pop music” when he was rocking the Bieber cut when he was younger


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When josh kiszka said “it’s been hard living but I’m too scared to die” I felt that


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