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ofthecaravel · 1 year

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If Walls Could Talk

The second part to a Danny Wagner/Sam Kiszka oneshot cause I'm a damn dirty liar

Part 1

Summary: Jake and Josh are convinced Sam has a secret, so they rope Danny (the secret) into their investigation.

Tags: Brotherly plotting, goofs, minor steaminess towards the end

Words: 3k

A/N: Yeahhh I decided to expand on this idea. I got the idea of Jake and Josh getting involved and being goofuses and couldn't resist. And maybe I have plans for future installments...

~~~

Sam had been 21 for a month now, and something was horribly wrong.

“Alright, I want theories,” Josh said, throwing his bag on a chair as the door to Jake’s apartment slammed behind him and he collapsed on the couch. “Go.”

“Demonic possession,” Jake answered immediately, spinning in his computer chair to face his brother. “Ghost possession.”

“Mmm, I’m not sure,” Josh countered. “Haven’t seen his head spin yet.”

“Doesn’t mean it hasn’t.”

“So true, so true,” Josh muttered, wrinkling his nose in thought. “I was thinking cult indoctrination. We don’t know what he’s being taught at that fancy shmancy school of his. All old, prestigious universities have at least one underground society.”

“They’d be getting to him kind of late,” Jake pointed out. “If I wanted to rope someone into my cult, I’d get them when they were a freshman, not a senior.”

“A cult would explain the cheerfulness, though,” Josh argued, kicking his legs up against the wall, his curls grazing the carpet as he looked up at his twin’s upside down face. “What with the love bombing and all. He’s just so uncharacteristically…”

“Bubbly,” Jake finished for him, giving sarcastic jazz hands. “Bright and happy!”

“I’m so glad it’s not just me who noticed,” Josh said, recalling how his lunch with Sam just hours before had gone by without a single complaint about…well, anything. Usually, Sam had a list of gripes about his professors, his classmates, or his job in the chem lab that he’d go through. But this time, he had just cheerfully tucked into a big cranberry salad and babbled about the many petri dishes he was tending to for his capstone class.

“We need to consider plain old hysteria,” Jake offered, thinking about how he had taken Sam and Danny out for brunch in the afternoon after the party and observed how the dark cloud that usually accompanied Sam’s hangovers had been noticeably absent. Now that he thought about it, Sam hadn’t seemed hungover at all. He had been practically bouncing out of the booth, giggling and bothering Danny every 3 seconds between bites of pancake. It wasn’t unusual for him to bug Danny, but it had been a little much even for him. Jake had even asked around to see if anybody at the party remembered giving Sam any kind of upper, but he had only been more confused to hear the overwhelming majority had barely even seen Sam that night. Putting pieces together, Jake suddenly sat upright and his eyebrows shot up.

“You don’t think he has a…?” Jake trailed off, Josh picking up what he was insinuating and clumsily climbing back onto the couch so he could see Jake face to face.

“A girlfriend?” Josh whispered, and Jake couldn’t help but let out a low whistle at the possibility. He crossed his legs and arms, his foot bouncing as they quietly pondered the thought. Sam wasn’t one to keep a girlfriend for more than a month. But he had always been a little perkier when he was dating someone, so it wasn’t out of the question.

“Do you think we’d know her?”

“No way,” Josh said, shaking his head. “Probably one of the super smart nerd babes in one of his classes. I don’t think he’d ever get together with anybody outside of school. He likes girls with brains.”

“And heart,” Jake added. “He’s actually kind of a romantic when he’s not being entirely insufferable.”

“Ew.”

“I know.”

“This is so crazy,” Josh marveled. “Do you think he knows we know?”

“No way,” Jake laughed. “He definitely thinks he’s being subtle.”

“Sam is as subtle as a groan tube.”

“Amen to that,” Jake agreed, slapping his knees and getting to his feet. “I need a beer. Want one?”

“Let’s toast to Sammy and his little girlfriend!” Josh crowed, reaching a hand out and catching the can with shocking grace when Jake tossed it from the kitchen.

“Cheers!” Jake cheered, clinking his can loudly against Josh’s with a celebratory whoop. “You know who we should ask about this?”

“Oh yeah!” Josh hummed through a sip. “That’s a great idea.”

“If anyone would know what’s going on-”

“It’s Danny.”

“Would you happen to know why Josh is spam calling me?”

Danny was laying on his bed with Sam sprawled over top of him, his cheek resting on his chest while they watched a show on his terrible, small TV. This was a new routine of theirs and it was quickly becoming one of his favorites. He selfishly wished that Sam would just stay with him in his crappy little apartment all day everyday just so Danny could devote as much time as possible to raking his fingers through his soft hair and blowing raspberries on the top of Sam’s head that made him squeal in outrage. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the show and his gorgeous best friend in his arms when his phone on the nightstand kept ringing repeatedly, the vibrations buzzing furiously on the wood like a fly in his ear. Everytime he checked, it was Josh’s contact photo flashing on the screen.

“Beats me,” Sam mumbled against Danny’s shirt.

“Should I pick it up? He never calls me,” Danny worried, watching his phone start rattling a new round of his ringtone. “Maybe it’s serious.”

“Nah,” Sam drawled, smacking Danny’s hand so his phone fell back on the nightstand. “If it was serious, he’d call me first. More hair playing, please and thank you.”

“That might be the first time I’ve heard you say either of those words,” Danny teased and Sam harrumphed in protest, gently smacking Danny’s face next. “Hey!”

“You’re being a bad cuddler,” Sam whined, nuzzling his cheek more against Danny’s chest and fidgeting. Danny scoffed and smoothed Sam’s hair back, still hopelessly endeared by him even when he was being annoying.

“Then you can go find somebody else to lay on,” Danny leaned in and whispered in Sam’s ear, suddenly shifting and flipping onto his side, sending a screaming Sam flailing off of the bed and onto the floor while Danny scooped up his phone and answered it.

“Hi, Josh,” Danny answered cheerfully while Sam hurled obscenities from the floor. Danny peeked over the edge of the bed, sticking his tongue out when Sam threw him the middle finger with both hands. “What’s up?”

“Finally!” Josh sighed, his voice so loud that Danny had to hold the phone away from his ear. “I thought you were never going to pick up.”

“You couldn’t just text me?”

“Absolutely not,” Josh replied as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion he had ever heard. “This is a matter of the highest security and discretion.”

“Do tell,” Danny said casually while Sam, still on the ground, reached up, grabbed the pillow out from under Danny’s head, and half heartedly tried to smother him with it. “You have my full attention.”

“Jake’s here too, say hi Jake,” Josh said, and after a moment of rustling, Jake’s voice piped up. “Hi, Dan.”

“Hi, guys,” Danny replied, curiosity creeping into his tone. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

“We have a conspiracy theory,” Josh whispered into the phone, and he heard Jake making ghostly noises in the background. “And we need your help investigating it.”

“Okay?”

“You’re not with Sam right now, are you?”

Danny looked down at Sam on the floor, who had put the pillow under his own head and was scowling up at Danny, flipping him the middle finger yet again.

“Nope,” Danny answered, giving Sam a kissy face and flopping back onto the bed. “Why?”

“Do you know what he’s up to right now?”

“Uh,” Danny paused. “I think he just said he was busy today. Again, why?”

“Interesting,” Josh hummed. “Has he been vague about his whereabouts with you, too?”

“Sort of,” Danny stammered, rolling over and throwing Sam a concerned look, who gave him a questioning look back. “He’s been busy, that’s all I know. I mean, it’s the end of the semester so that’s not too shocking.”

“We think he might be seeing someone,” Josh proposed amusedly and Danny’s heart started racing anxiously. He sat straight up and did his best to make a shocked noise.

“You think?” Danny squeaked. Sam sat up and gave him another confused look.

“For sure,” Jake answered, taking the phone from Josh. “Haven’t you noticed he’s been super weird lately? He’s been so cheery and downright merry. He’s usually miserable this time of year.”

“I guess he has been a little more upbeat lately,” Danny agreed, feeling a little warmth in his stomach. Did he really do that to Sam? Did he make him so happy that everyone around them could see it?

“But he hasn’t said anything about a girlfriend to you?” Josh asked.

“Nope,” Danny answered truthfully.

“Wow. I’m shocked he wouldn’t even tell you. He tells you everything.”

Sam was starting to get impatient and got up and scrambled onto the bed again, straddling Danny and making a move to grab the phone.

“No!” Danny whispered, palming Sam’s face and holding him back while Sam struggled, whispering obscenities and swinging his arms. “Give me a second!”

“Are you talking about me?” Sam asked, his voice barely audible, both of them still respecting the rules of being on the phone even though both sides had gone silent.

“Just be patient!” Danny hissed, pushing square against Sam’s chest and pinning him to the bed with one hand while he cradled the phone in the crook of his shoulder and brought it to his ear. “Sorry, Josh, what?”

“Ooh, do you have a guueesst over?” Josh whistled, no doubt wiggling his eyebrows while he said it. Jake wolf whistled in the background and Danny groaned.

“Shut up, you guys,” he complained. “Stay focused. What do you want me to do?”

“We just want you to poke around,” Josh explained as Danny tried to keep Sam quiet, who was still wiggling and grinning wickedly in Danny’s firm grip. “Ask him if he’s been hanging out with anybody.”

“Try and hang out with him as much as you can,” Jake added. “We’re trying to get a name out of this. We want socials we can stalk.”

“Wouldn’t you rather wait for him to bring it up?” Danny countered, making a “ssh!” face as Sam giggled under him. “Maybe there’s a reason he hasn’t said anything.”

“No, we’d rather be nosy,” Josh said in a deadpan, and Danny heard Jake cackle in the background. “He clearly likes her enough to not mention her to us.”

“And that’s so much worse,” Jake continued. “So, are you up for it?”

“I suppose I could do some sleuthing,” Danny smiled, starting to become increasingly distracted by the color flushing in Sam’s face as Danny held him down. “I’ll get back to you with what I know as soon as I can, okay?”

“You’re a peach, Wagner,” Josh grinned through the receiver. “We knew we could count on you.”

“Give him hell, Swaggy!” Jake crowed, and Danny laughed.

“Love you guys, talk to you later!” Danny chirped hurriedly, cutting off Josh’s loud kissing noises by hanging up and tossing his phone onto the nightstand.

“What did those hippies want?” Sam asked, running his fingers through Danny’s curls as Danny hovered over him, propping himself up on an elbow with a hand still firmly on Sam’s diaphragm.

“They’re pretty sure you have a girlfriend,” Danny said, and Sam let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head.

“God, they’re the worst,” Sam laughed, rolling his eyes. “I can’t keep anything from them. They’re going to be poking their noses in my business until I’m 102.”

“And they want me to find out who she is,” Danny went on.

“Oh, man…” Sam sighed.

“Is there any particular reason you haven’t told them yet?” Danny prodded, his thumb swiping soothingly, wrinkling the thin fabric of Sam’s shirt. “They think it’s some kind of a big deal.”

Sam hesitated, watching the movement of Danny’s hand on his chest before covering it with his own.

“My brothers think everything is a big deal,” Sam muttered. “I don’t know. I mean, they’re going to be jazzed about it, they love you. I just…I don’t know.”

“No, I get it,” Danny replied, his stomach sinking a little bit. He knew Sam wasn’t embarrassed of him or anything, but…

“I’ll tell them soon,” Sam promised, flashing the doe eyes he knew made Danny melt. Danny’s face immediately softened and the jackrabbit panic in Sam’s chest calmed a little at the sight. “I swear. I know it’s important to you.”

“You’re pretty sweet sometimes, you know that?” Danny grinned, dipping his head to plant a kiss on Sam’s cheek, who chuckled at the contact. “Could be fun to play along for a little bit, too.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, nuzzling his nose against Danny’s. “You wanna do a big, dramatic reveal?”

“It’s probably the last thing they expect,” Danny pointed out, pausing to peck Sam lightly on the mouth, who chased after his lips with a frown when he pulled back just as quickly as he had struck. “Imagine the looks on their faces when I tell them I’ve done all this investigative work just to find out that Sam’s super secret girlfriend is none other than…wait for it…”

“Oh, let me guess!” Sam mocked in Josh’s parroting voice, arching an eyebrow and pretending to think deeply. “The Queen of England?”

“No, no, she’s too good for you!” Danny growled in Jake’s beloved yet atrocious fake British accent. “It’s gotta be…the lady giraffe at the zoo!”

“She’s a little short for my taste,” Sam teased, holding Danny’s hair up over his head and waving it as if caught in a wind. “I like ‘em tall.”

“How tall do you think I am?” Danny scoffed, straightening his arms so he was planking over Sam, his hair falling in a dark curtain that made the rest of the room fall away so the only thing he could see was Sam. And he certainly didn’t mind the view, especially when it was looking up at him with a light in his eyes that seemed to shine only for him.

“Not tall enough,” Sam smiled cheekily and Danny raised an eyebrow at him.

“Whatever.” Danny lowered himself again so that he was draped over Sam, the tips of their noses touching again. “I’m still your super secret special girlfriend.”

“You’re my super secret special dumbass,” Sam assured him with puckered lips, jutting his chin out in a lazy attempt to steal a kiss. “Come here.”

“I want to hear you say it,” Danny breathed, stopping Sam’s lips with his pointer finger, gingerly pressing the tip of his finger against the soft, pink flesh before tapping his nose. “And then I’ll think about it.”

“To be fair,” Sam retorted, biting at Danny’s finger when he pulled it back. “You never officially asked me.”

“I didn’t realize you were expecting a whole big thing.”

“I was expecting bread and circus. Doves and rose petals.”

“I confessed to you under the stars on your birthday, what more do you want from me? Sheesh. Picky, picky.”

“You’re the worst boyfriend I’ve ever had,” Sam declared.

“I’ll take it!” Danny beamed, colliding the grin that was breaking out over his face into Sam, who accepted it with his own smile. Sam then drowned him in a long kiss, holding him close with his hands tangled comfortably in his curls and his legs slotted between Danny’s in a way that he had started to make a habit.

In fact, since their night on the roof, Sam had found it extremely difficult to keep his hands off of his best friend. He had been into Danny for what felt like forever, so now that he had his chance to have him all to himself, he was doing everything in his power not to waste it. His brother’s suspicions made sense when he put into perspective just how often he had begun to ignore their texts or offers to hang out in favor of beelining to Danny’s apartment after school or work and staying for as long as he could before his next class. But how could he not? Danny was all over him too. A kiss on the roof had led to a locked door, shirts on the floor, and a few days recycling the same turtleneck until the marks that had bloomed under Danny’s teeth had faded. Not much had changed in that regard, except that now Danny had the restraint and wherewithal to leave bruises where they couldn’t be seen by curious coworkers or ridiculously nosy brothers.

“Okay, fine,” Sam whined as Danny worked his shirt over his head and left a barrage of light kisses against the achingly sensitive skin on his neck. “Maybe you’re not the worst boyfriend in the world.”

“Gee, thanks,” Danny murmured against his skin, his tongue darting out and making Sam hum as he cradled Danny’s head against him. “Good to know I just need to get you worked up a little bit to be nicer to me.”

“Take me all the way and I’ll be more than nice,” Sam purred, flattening his hands against Danny’s back under his shirt and raking his nails down, making Danny groan into his neck.

“Kinda slutty of you,” Daniel chuckled, coming back up for air and gazing down at Sam with pink cheeks and the freckles on his nose so close that Sam was tempted to nip each and every one.

“You love that about me,” Sam teased, smoothing his palms over Danny’s lower back and hips as he watched his eyelids flutter and the warm hazel of his eyes get swallowed up by his pupils.

“You have no idea,” Danny groaned lowly, descending on Sam hungrily.

If he was being tasked with keeping an eye on him, he figured he might as well make it both worth their while.

Taglist: @s0livagant @holdingup-fallingsky @t00turnttrauma @the-starcatcher @streamsofstardust @spark-my-nature @joshkiszkashusband

#i am not immune to shenanigans #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #sanny gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van art #you dont go to parties #karoufiction

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writingcold · 10 months

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Hi there - welcome to chapter 5! If you’ve not been reading, you can find the master list here. I decided to do a bonus post. I love this chapter. I needed Mr. Jacob to come back.

What did you think about our last chapter? I think our friends are quite lovely. We have a lot that happens in this chapter.

This is a work of fiction, and is totally mine. Please do not take it for your own personal use. I’ve put in hours of research, hours upon hours of writing, re-writing, screaming, yelling and vomiting over this epic of a story. But it is mine.

Thank yous go out to @lvnterninthenight @gardensgatedaisy and @whitesuitjake

Content Warnings: Some angst and verbal arguing, Sam X Susannah smut. Oh my. Minors DNI.

Word count: approx. 8500

Chapter Five: Permanent Post, Junie’s Wedding - Cora

�� Cora arrived in town at 7:20 in the morning. The dark blue material of the outfit that Molly insisted that she keep back for Saturday, swished against her calves as the breeze had picked up. She came to a stop before the shop door, clutch held calmly at her side. She had barely slept: between her sister’s fear of her pending nuptials and speaking to Mr. Kiszka, her brain stirred with thoughts every few minutes. Poor Junie flinched and jittered throughout the night. Her dreams were plagued by the unknown of what she was to be as a wife to Mr. Archer. If there was a way to shield her from her mother’s decision, Cora would have gladly been her knight and savior.

Hearing the door’s bell ring behind her, she turned to greet her employer who stood with his typical toothy smile and warm eyes.

“Good morning, sir,” she said brightly.

He admitted her and she moved directly to the register to place her light coat and purse down in the cabinet. He politely waited for her to settle before he started to speak.

“I have been impressed, Miss Janas, by your work this past week. You are a very quick study,” he said with his formal tone.

“Thank you, Mr. Kiszka,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Thanks to your new friend Molly, you have certainly grasped the expectation of attire as well,” he continued. “I must say, however, I’m disappointed that you have utilized the kindness of my brothers this week.”

Her brows flinched, but she was able to keep any other emotion from surfacing. Keeping her voice friendly, she said, “I can only blame my own ignorance, sir, that I did not fully realize the need for better shoes for the posting. If you have decided to keep me, my priority will be to rectify the issue as soon as possible.”

“You’re very well-spoken for a farm girl,” he observed.

“My father placed high importance on education, Mr. Kiszka. He taught my sister and me to teach the other children of our family, not just to read but to enjoy a wide range of academia.”

Mr. Kiszka nodded with a thoughtful look. “Have you had any formal schooling?”

Her cheeks colored against her wishes. “No, sir. Not school proper - just my father. He did attend normal school, though. He was a professor at a small college for a while.”

“Sounds like you received a proper enough education,” he remarked, the same thoughtful expression playing in his eyes. “Aside from literature, what other subjects did he educate you in? Mathematics? Sciences?”

“Arithmetic certainly. He had me helping with the farm accounting before he passed, sir.”

“You have bookkeeping experience?”

“Yes, sir, but just the kind to keep the farm-”

“No different than a business, Miss Janas. I’m impressed all the more.” He glanced at the large clock above her head, then checked it against his fancy gold pocket watch. “I see no reason to continue your training post. You have exceeded my humble expectations.”

Her smile instantly brightened the space around her. “Thank you, Mr. Kiszka.”

“You are welcome.” He moved towards the register to begin morning duties.

“Sir, I do have one question,” she said as she reached for her apron. “Are employees allowed to purchase goods?”

“Pardon?”

“It would save a trip to town for my mother if I could purchase our few needs here in town. Of course, I expect to pay the full price, but-”

“Oh,” he said sharply. After a moment of thought, he nodded. “Of course. Place the items you need near your personal items - there should be room in that cabinet. We’ll deduct it from your wages.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a nod.

Renee walked through the door as he returned his attention back to setting up the cash drawer. The girl’s eyes flicked to their employer before looking at her with questions in her eyes. Cora grinned with a nod as her only conveyance that she was a permanent hire. She settled into straightening and stocking the dry goods. Renee worked on the display cases of baked goods. By the time Mr. Kiszka opened the doors for customers, she knew it was going to be a busy day. He retreated to his office with a “ladies” and a nod.

The morning was fairly typical, lots of customers at first, then backing off midday to allow them time for cleaning, stocking and ten minutes each for lunch. Cora took the reprieve to clean the wound on her foot, amazed that there was no pain as she unwrapped the bandages. She reapplied the salve and rewrapped the wound in between bites of bread and butter.

The afternoon was busier than ever. Cora found herself up and down the ladders. Her foot was beginning to tire and stiffen, but she pushed herself. Now that she survived the trial period, it meant that she would have to buckle down and hone whatever skills that she could to ensure that her tenure in the shop was never in question.

It was nearing five o’clock when the door swung open to admit Mr. Samuel and Mr. Daniel. She was up on the ladder reaching for a bolt of fabric when Jacob's voice struck her ear. She paused only for a moment, forcing herself not to stop or even to look in the direction she thought he would be in. Instead, she made her way back to the ground to finish her task, the hem of her skirt swishing around her calves.

As she turned, she caught sight of him as he was closing the door to the office. The heat coming off his face told her that there was an issue, however, there was a twinge in his eyes that made her stop completely. Nobody had ever looked upon her in such fashion. It was like he was seeing something within her that she could not cover and hide. Before she could analyze further, he had closed the door and broken the spell that may have only lasted seconds, but she felt like it would be a lifetime to really discern the meaning.

Minutes before six, Mr. Samuel and Mr. Daniel strolled out of the office. Samuel looked particularly tight, like he was trying to figure out the hardest problem in the county. Daniel, however, took a moment to share a smile as they made their way back out of the shop. Renee was just finishing up sweeping, while Cora was aiding a gentleman with a large order to carry out his goods and wares. She was lifting the last of the crates of dry foods for the man when she spied the twins at the back of the store. Stepping out to the man’s wagon, she smiled warmly. When she returned to the shop, Mr. Kiszka was handing Renee her wages for the week with a handshake.

Cora's eyes were drawn back to the office door, but did not see Jacob anywhere. Taking off the apron, she started to settle herself up for leaving. She drew close to Mr. Kiska and pulled up the few items she had selected and an empty potato sack.

“This is all you need, Miss Janas?” Mr. Kiska asked, eyeing the three cans of corn, two sacks of beans, two tins of dried beef, two jars of beets, a small sack of flour, a brick of lard and a few pieces of penny candy for them to indulge in.

She knew the items would come out to $1.10. She nodded as he was writing the ticket for her. He reached into the drawer and withdrew two dollar bills. When he tried to give her the money, she withdrew her hand.

“I’m sorry, sir, that was not the agreed upon wage,” she said, her brows pinching. “With my items removed from my earnings, I should only receive seventy cents, Mr. Kiszka.”

The smell of a fresh lit cigarette filled her nose and nearly distracted her. Mr. Kiszka tilted his head as his eyes moved to Jacob who was moving behind her.

“And if I say the extra is a tip?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I would say that is not the agreed upon wage and a dollar thirty would be too generous to be considered a tip,” she said with a nod.

He smiled, but this time it was not the toothy smile he used in his business transactions. It was warm. Genuine. “She’s quite sharp, isn’t she, Jacob? Very well, Miss Janas. I appreciate your honesty but I insist you take at least this to call your week square with me.”

He took back one of the dollars. She nodded and took it, although did not feel good about the extra thirty cents. Cora smiled as she put the items into the empty potato bag.

“We will see you here eight sharp Monday, Miss Janas,” Mr. Kiszka remarked as he started walking back towards his office. “You did really good work this week.”

She put away her apron and retrieved her clutch before turning to find Jacob waiting for her at the main door. He smiled as she came out from behind the counter.

“Are you ready?” he asked, taking her sack of goods to carry.

She nodded. They walked from the shop out into the crisp evening. Her hand was tucked in the crook of his elbow as they moved together. His car was waiting out on the boulevard. She watched as he opened the door for her, setting her bag behind the seat before holding his hand out for her.

Straight home. Jacob, unlike his younger sibling, drove straight to her home. She did not have to remind him where to turn. She did not have to remind him her family was waiting for her. For the briefest of moments, Cora felt a little sad that her short time with Jacob was over.

She watched as he slipped out his door and walked to her side. Their eyes met when he held his hand out for her to take.

“Thank you for bringing me home,” she said, noticing that he did not let go of her hand right away.

He smiled almost shyly, the evening light catching in his features. “Thank you for allowing me to bring you home.”

Cora watched as he reached around her to retrieve her grocery items, then held out his elbow for her to take. Before they took a step, she paused.

“I’ve been remiss, Jacob. Thank you for talking to Mr. Kiszka about my posting. I cannot believe he has made the position permanent.”

“That was all you. I never was able to speak with him. You honestly impressed him.”

She felt a blush cross her cheekbones as he grinned at her. Her heart began to pound as he started to walk her to the door.

“Perhaps I will see you tomorrow during church services,” he said, his tone was warm, simple.

Cora looked at him. She had not realized that he had noticed her on Sundays. He never seemed to see anything about her before.

“I’m sure,” she said with a nod. “My sister marries tomorrow after regular services.”

“Oh, happy celebration then.”

She hesitated and his smile dimmed. “No, you’re right. Happy celebration.”

“I was not aware you had an older sister.”

“No. It’s my younger sister, actually.”

His brows pinched together like he was troubled. “I see.”

She felt the corners of mouth twitch. When Cora looked up at him, she certainly tried to hide the hurt for her Junebug, but he saw it. He looped one finger through her own and gave it a squeeze. He handed her the sack of groceries before he stepped back.

The door opened revealing her mother. Jacob nodded to her with a pleasant “good night”. Cora watched as he walked away. Her body yelled at her to follow, but she turned towards her mother’s solemn form, handing her the sack of goods and the dollar she made.

“At least that man had the sense to get you home for supper,” she remarked coldly.

Cora looked out at the automobile. He had cranked the engine and was looking back at her from behind the wheel. She held her hand up and he mirrored her before she moved inside the home. The children were all at the table waiting. Junie was filling the bowls with thin chicken stew. Matthew, Jonathan, and George watched her as she hung up her light jacket to reveal the expensive material of her dress. Junie grinned as she sat down, though the lightness of her expression waned in a quick fashion.

Once they were all seated, they prayed and ate in silence. Cora’s mind was on the night before that she had shared with her new friends. She played the conversation through her mind. It was a foreign concept to her that eating and interacting could be enjoyable and fun. The joy they showed each other made her smile inwardly. She found herself wondering if Jacob behaved like Samuel at meals - animated and happy, talking about the picture show or a piece of music he had heard, or perhaps even a story he had read.

The curve of his red lips as he smiled echoed across her memory. The way that curve appeared each time her eyes met his made her skin warm and her cheeks blush. Clearing her throat, she sat up straighter and refocused on her simple meal.

Looking over to her mother, another memory struck her mind. One that drew her back before her father went to Europe to fight in that horrific war. The memory was brief, probably lasted for a few moments, but it was startling in the way it struck her. It was back when it was just her parents, herself, Junie, and Matthew. There had been laughter. Her father would tell them stories as they would eat. His features would light with love and caring when he looked across his whole family as they hung on to each and every of his words. That light was extinguished before he returned home. Cora would always remember that the man that called himself her father had lost his grit years before his demise. Cora noticed that her sister pushed around the stew in her bowl. Whatever glimmer a bride should have in her before her wedding was not present. Her mother had known some kind of happiness in her marriage. The notion of not allowing her daughter to know that kind of emotion stabbed at her. She wondered how long Rosemary would keep the yoke of the family in place on herself - until Matthew was old enough to earn a wage? Until all the boys were gone? Her mother did not hide the fact that she kept Cora from leaving to marry because she could not support the boys alone.

The need to cry was overwhelming. She realized that her mother was shunning her daughters from joy, just in two different manners. To marry off Junie to a much older man ensured the girl would have a relationship that would never be equal. Keeping Cora close to ensure she was viewed as too old to marry and keep her a spinster, void of knowing love. A flash of mixed emotions crashed through her. A glance to her mother, especially in the silence, would have sent her into a rage. A look at Junebug would have sent her into despair. Instead, she closed her eyes and moved inward.

Jacob sitting in the Earl, his dark eyes upon her. She should have run right back at him. She should have told him to drive anywhere, just take her with him. She was very aware that it was nothing but girlish fantasy, but the thought kept her from flying apart amongst the muted clanks and scrapes that was the only sound of their meal. Her body felt the flame of her anger towards her mother and the iciness of sorrow for her sister. Her mind provided her only escape - images of her week in the shop and the evolution of how Jacob looked upon her scrolled through her thoughts. Frivolous lines of poetry began to pair with each frame, just like the picture show that her mother had allowed her to take Junie to for her birthday the previous autumn.

“Junie, if you’re not going to finish…”

Cora did not hear what her mother said as she continued to speak. She instead looked at her sister who appeared defeated, head hanging forward. The dread in the poor girl’s eyes did nothing to move their mother. Reaching over, Cora took the bowl and rose up from the table to take care of it. Rosemary scoffed, but she ignored her. The boys were sent to go prepare for bed under their mother’s care, leaving the sisters alone.

Cora allowed Junie to stay at the table. The girl’s soft cries did not go unnoticed. With care, she wrapped her arms around her sister’s frail shoulders, discovering she was trembling in her effort to stay quiet.

“Oh, Junebug,” she whispered before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Her mother’s derisive snort from behind them made them both freeze. Slowly, Cora rose up, keeping her hands on Junie’s shoulders. “Why all this bother? Mr. Archer is the president of the Northern Trust bank. He may not be a terribly rich man, but tomorrow night, you will be living in a nice home with food in your belly,” Rosemary said without covering the edge of her impatience. “Your situation will be very much improved. Even better than the plans that Cora thinks she has for the rest of us.”

Cora felt her rage step to the fore. Her skin sizzled from its heat. “How can you be like this towards your daughter? You can see Junie is frightened and you act like she should waltz into this situation like she asked for it.”

“Scared of what? A house that won’t flood when it rains and won’t be cold in the winter? Or maybe it’s the real food that she will be able to prepare? Oh. I know what it is,” her mother groused as the girls watched her incredulously. “She must be afraid of having nice clothes and a respectable position in town? Everything that you seem to be aiming for, Cora Rosemarie.”

Cora swallowed hard. “She’s afraid of not being loved,” she said, surprised she was able to form the words.

To further her surprise, her mother barked out a laugh. It was harsh and horrible, distorting her features. She glanced at Junie before sliding her hand into her sister’s.

“Love? What a stupid girl you are, Cora. There is no such thing - not for people like us.”

“You and Papa had it,” she whispered as Junie’s body pressed up against her back.

Her mother fell quiet, her eyes empty. “Tolerance is what your father and I had. Forget about what your Papa let you read in those storybooks, because there is no such thing. He was a fool to let you think otherwise.”

The girls folded against each other. Junie pressed her cheek against Cora’s shoulder blade as she sobbed. Cora bit into her lip trying to hold back her own tide, but failed.

“Get supper cleaned up and get to bed, both of you. I don’t want to see either of you until dawn.”

Rosemary stomped out of the house leaving them sniffling behind her. Cora, in her fury, lashed out at the air before wiping at her face.

“Junebug,” she said, voice rough. “Come on, Junie.”

The younger girl flinched as Cora pulled out her hanky and began to dry her cheeks.

“Come on, Junie, it’s going to be well,” she said with more determination. “Let’s get this taken care of before she comes back.”

Mechanically, they cleaned the tiny kitchen. Cora’s heart sloshed around painfully as she watched Junie. It was as if the light was dimming right out of her. She took a moment to change the wrapping on her foot like Jacob wanted her to before they prepared for bed. She heard her mother walk back inside just as they lay down. Junie allowed her to pull her body in close, holding on to each other as exhaustion overtook them. She closed her eyes in hopes of avoiding her mother. Instead, she drifted into a shallow sleep, aware of Junie's soft cries.

Chapter Five: Pt. 2, Susannah

She smiled at the news. Cora had won Joshua over on her own merit, that was something to be happy about. What they did for her was nothing but window dressing, but it was what it would always be - an extension of friendship.

The sight of her walking from the store to Jacob’s car in the early evening made her heart trip a bit. She watched from the upper window of the dancehall with Molly at her side. The dark blue of her dress matched that of his car, a nice touch on Molly’s part, and one that did not go unnoticed by Jacob, she was sure.

The way he kept his eyes on her, the touch of his hand on her elbow as they crossed the street, the smile as he held the door for her. It was as natural as breathing. Molly was rambling on, but she could not look away from the spectacle of Cora and Jacob. She wondered if either of them realized the shine that they gave off when they were near each other.

“It would be one too many meddling incidents to help that situation out, wouldn’t it?” she sighed as the auto moved out of sight.

Molly’s grin made her feel squishy. “I don’t think there’s going to be any meddling needed in that case, love.”

Standing up, she went to the wardrobe to dig through the costumes for her shift. Her head swam with ideas, but the edge of not wanting to interfere with what would obviously happen naturally if left alone was very present.

“Any of the black numbers tonight,” Molly called from the door. “Remember, Joshua wanted us to match the formal attire.”

She rolled her eyes. Susannah pulled the black dress with the slit that would end directly on her hip bone and the plunge of the neckline ended at her bellybutton. She grinned at the memory of the last time, and only time, she had worn the satin number. Samuel lost every shred of control by the end of the night and it was days before either one surfaced in the world.

Hair perfect with the flawless curl against her cheek and ostrich feather tickling her bare shoulder; makeup in place, and the final touches of the stark white gloves, Susannah was ready like she was going to battle. Hiking down the private stairs that would lead her all the way to the speakeasy, she hummed softly to the faint music that would welcome her like an old friend the moment she slipped into the cramped space.

The dance floor was empty, save for Molly, who strutted and swirled and romped her sinful frame to the wonderment of everyone who would watch. Her eyes strayed back to the table where Joshua would hold court for his family, only to find that he sat with Catherine in a frosty frame of a picture. She watched as Josh turned to look at the woman, his face void of emotion. There was a single word that crossed his mouth before she stood, mouth pursed. Susannah would swear she just witnessed Catherine being cut away from the eldest Kiszka’s side, but when her eyes drifted back to Molly, she second guessed herself.

Catherine walked past her without a word. The woman’s eyes looked destroyed. Susannah watched as the woman slipped through the door to the stairs and the relief that washed over her made her smile. Done. She could hear Josh say it - crisp and final. She was so focused on events beyond the floor that she missed her cue.

Molly, ever in step, had her sexy stroll turned on and moved before her with a sultry sway of her hips.

“Ready, baby girl?” she asked loudly, ensuring those around them heard.

Susannah blushed, but only for a moment. “Take me out, Mama.”

Molly grasped her hands, making a show of pulling her out to the main floor to cheering and wolf whistles. She blew her friend a kiss as Molly twirled away at the closing notes of her own number. Susannah retreated her thoughts to a quiet space, filled with tall grasses and the sound of a creek that she visited with Sammy the autumn prior. It held the magic that would protect her from how her body worked through suggestive slides and luxuriant poses that showed her body in a manner that would make most women blush. The music drove her muscles through it while her brain pictured her laying in the grass, her Sammy kissing her gently under the waning afternoon sunshine. And before she knew it, her dance would be over.

She felt her chest rise and fall as she gasped for breath. The crush of people were clapping for her as she peeled herself from the floor. The sticky heat of the room mixed with the clammy feel that she was always left with when her performance was complete. Sam was waiting at the edge, a drink in hand waiting for her. With the strength she had left, she sauntered over, making sure her long legs were seen along with the lacy garter and flash of her breast that had fallen from the security of her gown, as if it were a mistake. People were so gullible and easily shocked, parting with their money to tip the poor girl who’s routine was always mired in some kind of slip that exposed her in some manner.

He did not say a word. He only handed her the drink - whiskey, neat. His eyes were nearly black, his body taut. She sipped at the velvety liquid, her eyes steady on her man as he licked at his bottom lip.

“Hey, daddy,” she whispered, her voice low and sensual.

It was the breaking point she needed. He latched onto her wrist, glass falling to the floor. He did not even bother to make sure she was decent before they were falling out onto the street. Susannah’s heels clanked on the boards of the walkway quickly as she tried to keep up with the man’s long strides. He pulled her all the way to her home, shoving through the door and kicking it closed behind them as his hands grasped her arms, shoving her towards the bedroom.

“You think you can do that and not pay my toll, girlie?” he asked as he practically ripped his coat off.

“I love when you’re so needy,” she cooed, taking down the zipper of her dress.

He huffed as his vest, followed by his dress shirt, hit the floor. “I’m not the one flaunting my titties all over like I need to be fucked proper.”

“While that may be so,” she said as he kicked off his shoes, “I’m not the one walking around with a bone the size of Texas, darling.”

“That cock is about to split you in half,” he nearly growled as he watched as her dress fell to a pool at her feet. “Keep the heels on.”

He tore her panties away, leaving the pretty garters, stockings and her shoes on. She nipped at his neck as he slid out of his pants to reveal his dick, hard as rock and seeking her warmth. He gripped her by the hips and pushed to the bed to sit. She started to wiggle back, but he stopped her. He bent, grabbing hold of one ankle and extending it up until it rested on his shoulder. He leaned in, his large hand coming down against her cunt, pinching and pulling at her clit until she hissed.

“Let it go, sugar,” he whispered, his lips against her neck.

Two fingers pressed into her entrance and her body quaked as his tongue lapped against the fragile skin beneath her ear. He was so deft at bringing her to climax. He coaxed it from her. He bent his fingers just so, kissed her just right and the combination of having her melt at his feet was complete. She came hard around his hand, her entire body losing its ability to stay upright. He did not wait for her to ride her tide downwards. He pulled her to standing, bending her over until her hands hit the floor.

Her breath came in waves as she prepared herself for his pleasure. His hands disappeared from her hips. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, looking between her knees to find him standing, looking at her folded over, totally open. Their eyes met for a long moment.

“Samuel?” she asked as she started to move.

His hands came down on her to stop her. He knelt with his knees in between her spread legs. “Susannah, do you understand what you do to me? Damn you’re so beautiful.”

His eyes were soft as he took her in. She reached back, running her fingers along his hardened dick, looking to give him something to feel. He rolled his eyes closed before he leaned in against her, a chase kiss to her clit. Sam hummed as a smile crossed his mouth.

He flattened out his tongue and gave her one long pass from clit to ass, sending shivers through her body. He sucked one lip in then the other before doing it over again. She mumbled a curse that she wasn’t even sure what it was as he set in to worshiping her pussy in the most delicious of manners. His tongue danced languidly between all her points, taking his time to love each one. The tip of his nose grazed across her ass cheek before his tongue pressed against the back entrance. Her breath was coming in hard waves before cutting out completely at the feel of his teeth digging into the fleshy part of her ass with a groan.

He scooted his hips closer to her face without stopping his mouth. She could only move a fraction, but it was enough to suck in the tip of his dick and pull hard. He wrapped his hand around his shaft, pumping himself as she swirled her tongue the best she could as he continued to worship her pussy. Sam began to bite the inside of her thigh as he picked up his own pace. She sucked hard and his head tilted back as he groaned deep in his chest. He licked the skin at the very top of her thigh before plunging back in, focusing in on her clit, switching between hard sucks and kitten licks that sent her crashing forward blindly towards another high. He came hard with her, shooting into her mouth and across her chin as she cried out in pleasure. Her knees crumpled under her own weight. He caught her, bringing her down against him before kicking his legs out to lay her against him on the floor.

Their heavy breathing was all that could be heard. He snaked his hands across her waist and held her tightly. “Love you, baby,” he whispered, kissing the damp skin of her neck. “You are so good for me.”

“Good enough to take me to the picture show, walk in with me and not just meet me in the dark? Good enough to take for a stroll through the town?” she asked with a sad smile.

He passed a finger down her cheek. “Soon enough, Susannah, we’ll be able to do that. Just now…”

She sighed as she turned away from him, reaching for her robe. Before he could touch her again, she slipped away. “I know, Sammy. It’s just for now, not always.” The words they had repeated to each other over the course of their eight months together. Somehow, the words held less gravity than they once did. Her heart felt dark as she tried to keep her back to him as he cleaned up and dressed. A glance to him reinforced the idea that perhaps the words were feeling thin to him as well.

Chapter Five: Pt. 3, Cora

Cora was up before dawn, slipping into her barn coat and boots. She roused Matthew and they sleepily walked towards the Kilbourne barn. The boy rubbed at his face as she pushed open the heavy doors. Together, they pulled out the wagon. Mr. Kilbourne appeared on his way to milk the cows. He eyed her skeptically.

“Coming back to me, girl?” he asked as he waddled past.

“No, sir,” she said with a grin. “I’ve earned myself a permanent posting.”

He made a rude noise, but continued on. Matthew stopped her before they moved towards the horses. A look of annoyance crossed through his features as he seemed to draw up his shoulders. For the briefest of moments, she saw her father standing in her brother’s space, and it sent a wistful breath across her lips.

“Why are you and Junie so mad with Mama?” he asked, holding onto her arm.

“Not angry, Matthew,” she sighed as she started to yawn. “Just upset.”

“I thought women wanted to get married,” he said innocently.

She smiled warmly at her brother. He looked so like their father with his chiseled jaw and dark brown hair. “We’re all meant to marry and to love. Junie… Mama…”

He made a face just like their father would when she struggled to find words. Tears blurred her eyes as he reached for her shoulder.

“Men have an easier lot in this life, Matthew. At least when it comes to the affairs between men and women. It’s been that way forever it seems,” she whispered. “Mother has had to make a decision that will give Junie a challenge, but will lessen the burden on the family as whole. It was a difficult decision. Of that I am sure. But for Junie, it means that she must go her own path. She has to do this alone. She’s scared of what it may bring.”

“If I could help you and Mama, you know I would, Cora,” he said, his voice strong and sure.

“I’m sure Mama will be asking Mr. Kilbourne any day now to have you be paid for your chores,” Cora remarked as her eyes moved back to the end of the barn where the farmer was working. “You will be helping sooner than you think.”

They got the two horses out and hitched up to the wagon before tying them off with feed bags. Matthew was quiet at her side as they walked back down to the cottage until they were almost to the door.

“I’m sorry that Mama was so upset last night,” he said, his smile sad. He paused as a sparkle moved through his eyes. “Do you think that Mr. Jacob might be back with that automobile?”

“You liked that one, huh?”

“Yes. It looked fast.” He made to walk ahead, but stopped again. “And I liked that he was kind to you.”

Cora smiled as she watched him open the door for her just like a gentleman would for a lady. She tousled his hair as she passed. They sat down with bread and a smear of butter before getting ready for church. She could hear Georgie rousing and moved to get him ready before her mother had to. The littlest of them looked up at her with large dark blue eyes and arms raised for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him up despite him being half her size.

Dressed in their church clothes, Cora helped Junie to tie her hair into braids that flattered her with delicate curls around her ears. Their mother barely looked at either of them as they climbed into the wagon with Mr. and Mrs. Kilbourne on the driver’s bench. Cora told herself that perhaps her words had sunk through the woman’s skull and made some semblance of sense to her, but she very much doubted it. Instead, she sat with Georgie tucked into her left side and Jonathan in her right. The boys were lulled back to sleep in the swaying of the wagon and long ride into town.

While Mr. Kilbourne aided his own wife from the wagon, he left the Janas family behind with a malign smirk. Cora climbed her own way down with Matthew’s help then proceeded to help the others. Their mother led the way towards the church, with Cora holding Junie’s hand tightly in support. Her eyes strayed as they entered the hall, looking for Jacob and his brothers. Mr. Archer approached with his two children in tow. He politely said hello to the family. Cora noticed that Junie was correct, though he spoke to her directly, he did not truly look at her, nor her face. The oddness bothered her.

Cora felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned to find Mr. Samuel and Mr. Daniel. They greeted her warmly, much to her mother’s displeasure. To rub it in further, she turned from her sister’s future husband to say hello to the two men.

“You look well,” Daniel remarked with a warm smile.

“I am doing very well, thank you,” she said, nodding.

“Congratulations on your posting,” Samuel said with a huge smile. “I knew you could do it. You’re a total natural in that shop.”

She smiled wide as Jacob came into her line of sight. His dark suit made his tanned skin look rich. He had not seen her yet, but the way he removed his hat, running his fingers over his hair to keep it out of his eyes made her insides feel warm.

“Cora,” her mother called out.

She smiled once again at Daniel and Samuel before turning back to her family. They were walking with Mr. Archer and his children. Though he walked next to her, the gentleman did not acknowledge his would-be bride. She felt the pit of her stomach clench as she followed. The man was talking about going to their home after the services for supper. The family would be welcomed any time they were in town. Junie tried to make mention that Cora was now working in town, but he just talked right over her like she was a child.

Taking their position in the hall, she sat down at the end of the row, her brain firing thoughts off so quickly that she could barely keep up with the shift in ideas. The preacher’s wife and family appeared at the front and shortly after, the Kiszka’s and Mr. Daniel walked in from the back. Her eyes trained on Jacob as he moved, his hat in his hands and his face turned in her direction. She hoped that he had seen her, but was unsure as he took his place six rows in front of her family.

Georgie started babbling and reaching for her. Cora snuggled him close and he sighed against her face with his hands on her cheeks.

“I miss you, sister,” he whispered, pressing his nose against hers.

She smiled as she put his head on her shoulder. “I miss you too, Georgie,” she said into his hair, breathing him in.

The air in the hall grew uncomfortably warm as the preacher moved through the service. Cora’s brain was not focused on the sermon at all. Her hand held the youngest of her brother’s while her eyes were unfocused on the pew before her. The man’s words held no importance. The music was unmoving. The coil that was being tightened in her chest made her want to grab hold of her siblings and run. Instead, she sat like a good girl and pretended to be part of the faithful. Her brain bent between being selfish and watching Jacob and the nuptials that would take place after the services.

Georgie looked up at her, his small, mischievous face bade her to turn her attention back to him. She allowed him to crawl back up onto her lap, to which he was asleep in moments. Locked into her place as the congregation began to dismiss, she glanced down the row, watching as Mr. Archer was standing up, his eyes trained to the front. With all the movement, she did not see much until a soft tap on her shoulder drew her back to her edge of the pew.

“Good morning, Cora,” Jacob said as he crouched down, his hand landing on Georgie’s back, smoothing down his shirt until his fingers brushed her own, looping his pinky with her index.

“Good morning,” she breathed, feeling the heat rise on her cheeks.

“Mr. Kiszka,” Mr. Archer called from behind her.

Jacob did not rise to meet the gentleman at first. His gaze dropped away, annoyance appearing at the corners of his mouth. He stood, his professional disinterest forming in his features. He did not offer his hand at first. Cora noticed that his jaw tightened when he finally reached out to take Mr. Archer’s offered handshake.

“Mr. Archer,” Jacob said. He returned his gaze to hers, but it was not the same. “I shall see you tomorrow, then.”

She looked back at the corner of the pew as Georgie roused dreamily. She turned to look behind her, seeing him stop to speak with Sam and Daniel. He kept his back to her, but she saw that he turned his chin to his shoulder.

“Sister,” Georgie whispered in her ear.

“I got you, baby,” she cooed.

The preacher and his wife were walking towards their family, their round faces filled with what Cora assumed was to be joy. Pastor Butterman was all hands on Mr. Archer as he shook the man’s hand and patted his shoulder. His eyes fell to her mother with a nod before finally moving to her.

“So this is the bride, then,” he started, beaming towards her. “Miss Cora, you are looking very happy today! I am sure your whole family shares this sentiment.”

Cora’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Instead her eyes darted back to the last spot that Jacob had been in, finding that he was now looking back at her, having heard the voice of the minister carry. Jacob’s dark eyes were hardening on the situation as she shook her head, near panic choking her to silence.

“No, sir,” her mother finally said, pulling Junie closer to her. “Junie is our bride today.”

So many of the words that had crossed her lips over the past days were hanging on her tongue. The wrongness of the moment pierced her. Georgie must have felt her stress and wrapped his hands tight around her neck. Cora fought with herself. The look on her mother’s face was stern, making her rethink what she wanted to voice.

The preacher hesitated. “Right. Junie, what a blessed day this is for you and us all.”

He took her sister’s hand and motioned for Mr. Archer to follow. Cora set Georgie down and took him by the hand. She felt her heart slog in her chest as she followed behind the family. She wanted to scream and fight for her sister to stay with the family and not marry a complete stranger. She wanted to slap her mother to force some sense into the situation.

Instead, she stood like a coward, heart in her throat while Junie looked like she was going to vomit. The preacher was droning on about happiness and love. Cora made a sound that made him stop. She kept her eyes down, but the pause made her have a bit of satisfaction. The man continued on, talking about commitment and loyalty - loyalty that the families can share as they become one family instead of two. Her stomach flopped at the notion.

The ceremony was over before she knew it. Junie’s terrified eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before Mr. Archer kissed her mouth with a quick peck. Cora could not hide the curl of disgust as her sister seemed to recoil. Rosemary smiled at the minister as if in triumph. Somehow, Cora knew that Junie was broken inside. Her big sister did nothing to come to her rescue. Instead, the family turned away, making their way from the church hall into the day beyond. Mr. Kilbourne and his wife were already back to their wagon, waiting. Cora’s mouth dropped when her mother told Mr. Archer that they needed to be moving along. They would have to visit another day.

Grabbing her sister into a hard embrace, Cora whispered into her ear. “Junebug. I love you. I treasure you so. Keep that close.”

She nodded, eyes on their mother who was already in the wagon with the boys. The coolness of the woman’s face stoked the fire within Cora. Matthew moved to edge, sitting down to provide her some support to climb up and take her place. Georgie crawled into her lap, his little face moving until he was nose to nose with her.

“Where’s Junebug?” he asked with all the seriousness that a six year old could muster.

Cora swallowed. “She has her own home now, baby. Perhaps she’ll visit us soon.”

“When you go to your own home, will you take me?” he asked, his hands pressing against her cheeks.

She sucked in a breath, startling the young boy. He threw his arms around her neck and held on tight. Her emotions that she had reigned in through the day were breaking loose. Her mother’s face grew hard. Cora found herself not caring. Georgie’s hands patted her back and he hummed a tune that was meant to be comforting as she wept for her sister. Matthew’s hand slipped into hers. She looked at her eldest brother and for a moment, it was her father looking back at her. Her heart hurt. Her mind hurt. She knew if her father had been there, things would not have been much different. In all likeliness, she would have been married to a man she did not know. She more than likely would have had a baby already. Blowing out a breath, she trained her mind onto the day to come.

When the night came, and she was alone, cleaning the supper dishes, her hands came down on the wash tub. If given the opportunity, she would choose Jacob. He may still have been a stranger, but he at the very minimum showed kindness. He showed interest. She could only imagine what her sister was facing at that moment in a strange house, with a strange man, and expectations that she had no idea how they fit in with her own existence.

Chapter Five: Pt. 4, Molly

When Molly roused, Daniel was gone. She sat up, listening for anything in the house, but there was no sound. Her brows pinched as she slid out of bed, grasping for her robe. The stillness bothered her. Sunday. She hated the idea of Sunday. Danny was required by Joshua to attend church services to keep up their appearance of being good businessmen, no matter what.

There was a light tap on her door as she was fixing a kettle. Susannah peeked her head around, the same weary look on her face.

“Hey, baby doll,” Molly said in a welcome, pointing her to sit at the table. “Eggs?”

“If you’re fixin’ them, sure,” she sighed.

Molly did not like the look that shone in her friend’s eyes. It was a common look that appeared frequently. Fishing out a few eggs and a heavy cast iron pan, she set into fixing breakfast. She waited until they were sitting down with food and coffee before them to ask what was going on.

“Have you ever wondered when we’ll be respectable enough to go to church with them?” she asked, hands folded in her lap. “Sure, we’re all right to take to the diner or the cafeteria. But anywhere else? We’re hidden, Mols.”

Molly took a sip of her coffee, eyes hard on the table before her. She hated that Susannah could openly ask such a question. She could not even form the words in her brain that there would ever be a time that Danny would deny that she would be part of him. That was not the truth, not fully. Sundays. Sundays belonged to nurturing their personas in the public. The four of them would attend church, visit others who were in their sphere - other businessmen and their families. They would travel all over the town through the day as a group. As they were bachelors, it was never expected for them to host anyone - why would they invite people to their home that was in the center of the row of mansions on the way out of town? Instead, they sat and conversed with those that were the pillars of the community as if their wings did not hold the soot of the underbelly they fed on a nightly basis.

“I hate Sundays,” Molly grumbled before shoving eggs into her face.

“I know I should feel stupid for even thinking this, but, really? When will we be able to walk on the arms of our men? They love us. Isn’t that enough?” Susannah whispered sullenly.

She blew out a long breath. Shaking her head, Molly dragged her teeth across her upper lip. “Unless we leave this town with them, I do not think that will happen, love. Too many men have seen… our act. Joshua would never allow their current reputation to be tarnished.”

“I don’t understand sometimes why we need to be ashamed of our work, when half the men in this town have been there cheering us on. Aren’t they just as tarnished in that sense?” she grumbled.

Molly nodded sympathetically, but knew this was an argument waiting to happen. Instead, she kept to her coffee and finished her eggs. She adored her friend, but the moods that overtook her at times were dark and complicated, there was no winning until her cooler thoughts returned.

Susannah helped to clean up then drifted back to her own home next door. Molly rummaged around her rooms, straightening up, pulling out the week’s clothes. She found pieces that would look good on Cora and set them aside to perhaps spend some time fixing them for her newest friend to wear. It also meant more to do to keep her busy until Danny returned.

Hope you liked this little bit longer chapter. Next week will be different - a chapter only for Cora - but you won't want to miss it! Hearts will be fluttering. I do have a tag list, you can join here or just let me know

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @whitesuitjake @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @samsurfgreenbass @joshkiszkas-admin @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @myownparadise96 @reesetrippingthelight @kyrose11 @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @puzzle-gvf @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @brookes-so-done @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sammy gvf #sam gvf #daniel gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfic au #greta van fleet au fic #greta van fleet x ocs

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anthemofgvf · 7 months

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alright guys! YOU get to choose my next fic release!

vote on it, please;)

choose wisely;)

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #danny gvf #sam kiszka #jake gvf #josh gvf #sammy kiszka #sam gvf #noel’s fics #noel’s thoughts

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readyforthegarden · 2 years

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Poetry and Promises

A/N: Dedicating this to the ever lovely @dannythedog for sending me a tiktok of sam in a yellow jacket that was not a sweater but i thought it was and it gave me collegeau!sam vibes. This is a HIGHLY idealized version of sam, yall. it's fluffy as hell too. They're just little short parts. May make another one if I'm feeling super fluffy, who knows.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warning: Fluff with some implied sexual things at the end.

It started with a smile. You were sat in your seat in the English Lit classroom, your laptop, notebook, and textbook aligned neatly in front of you. You glanced up as more students walked through the door, a laugh catching your attention. Two tall young men entered the room. One with dark, curly hair that cascading down his back, the other with shorter, brown hair. The brown haired one was wearing a bright yellow sweater, a grin plastered on his face as he laughed. His eyes shot over to you as they decided where to sit, and his lips closed into a smaller smile, and as sure as your cheeks were aflame from the sudden eye contact, you swore you saw a light shade of pink adorn his.

He and his friend sat a few rows below you, and you struggled as the class started to keep your eyes from the back of yellow sweater boys head. You wondered, briefly, what hair products he used to get the bouncy volume he had. While internally debating on the probability of him using hair rollers or not, you were snapped out of your daze by the girl next to you handing you a stack of the syllabi to pass down. You jumped a bit, knocking your textbook to the ground, grimacing at the loud thump it had made that had heads turning to you.

“Sorry, sorry.” you mumbled, bending down and grabbing the book. Straightening your posture, your eyes scanned the room. Most everyone had turned back around as the professor continued on in his introductions. But your eyes were met with wide, caramel brown ones, a gentle, almost sympathetic smirk on his face as his eyes scanned you quickly. He turned around seconds later and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. For the rest of the lecture, you chided yourself every time your eyes wandered to the back of that boys head.

This was silly. Sure, he’s super cute, but he’s probably one of those guys who knows how good looking he is and uses it to his advantage. Pretends he’s a bleeding heart but is really just a fuckboy who’ll use you and leave you out to dry. But like, if you bumped into him at a party and had a few drinks in you, you wouldn’t say no to brief make out session in a dark hallway. No, you were being stupid. You would probably never have any interaction with this boy other than sharing this class. After this semester, you’d never see him again. He was probably an engineering student getting a Gen Ed credit out of the way, anyway.

Drifting in and out of fantasies of telling off Yellow Sweater Boy for any possible future indiscretions towards you or anyone else in the class, you noticed him move, raking a long hand through his fluffy hair. You decided he absolutely was a fuckboy who knew what he was doing, and began steeling yourself against the tiny crush that was developing, caging those butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“If any of you have any questions, my open office hours are on the syllabus, and you can always send me an email. Make sure to get those chapters read and be ready for a discussion. I’ll see you Thursday.” as the professor dismissed the class, you busied yourself with packing your messenger bag with your items and when you glanced up, they were already gone. Ignoring the pang of disappointment in your chest, you shuffled out of the classroom, heading to the campus coffee stand to fuel up before your next lecture.

~~~~~~~

After a month, you thought you’d successfully set aside your little crush. You no longer snuck glances out of the corner of your eyes to Yellow-Sweater-Boy and ignored any time you caught him glancing at you, and were proud of yourself that you felt unaffected as other girls in the class sat around him and his handsome friend. Until one day, when you were digging in your bag before class, looking for your highlighter, and a voice startled you.

“Need a pen?” you looked up, and Yellow-Sweater Boy was standing next to you, holding out a blue capped pen. Today he was wearing a white cable knit sweater, and you had to stop yourself from reaching out to trace the pattern. Instead, you looked between him and the utensil, a bit taken aback, and shook your head.

“No, I’m looking for my highlighter.” you answered, turning back to rifle through the pockets on the bag. “I must’ve left it in my dorm.”

“No sweat, I have an extra one.” he sat down next to you, pulling out the contents of his bag, and handing you a bright yellow highlighter.

“Thank you.” you accepted the marker, giving him a soft smile. “I appreciate it.”

“I’m Sam.” he introduced himself, sticking his hand out. You met it with yours, giving it a short shake.

“Y/N.”

“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked, gesturing to the chair he already planted himself in. “It’s easier to see the the board up here, down there I have to tilt my head. Creates a real bad crick in my neck. Plus Danny is out sick, so I miss having a discussion partner.”

“Not at all.” you shook your head. Sam offered you a goofy grin, flipping open his notebook and textbook, scattering a few more pens and different colored highlighters. The margins of his textbook pages were messy, handwritten notes scrawled there in sloppy, boyish handwriting.

“What do you think of this class so far?” Sam asked, his eyes still focused on the pages before him.

“It’s good.” you shrugged noncommittally. “I wish we spent more time on literary allegories, but hopefully we’ll work up to that.” Sam gave you a look that seemed impressed.

“Allegories, huh?” he chuckled. “I agree. There’s so much subtext to some of these stories, I feel like he’s only letting us scratch the surface of what these writers truly mean to tell us.”

“Exactly!” you agreed. “And if I’m being honest, I think a lot of people in here are confusing symbolism with allegory, and it annoys me so much. Which like, obviously you need symbolism for an allegory to work. But I’ll never say anything, I don’t want to make anyone look dumb…but they’re dumb.” Sam laughed now, his eyes sparkling while nodding.

“So you’re an English major, I presume?”

“Yeah. I want to be a writer, maybe a journalist.” you smile sheepishly, feeling the embarrassment bubbling up at such a lofty, basic dream. “What about you?”

“I’m an English major as well.” he informed you. “With a minor in music theory. I really want to pursue music, but I promised my mom I’d major in something I could get a “real” job in.”

“Oh wow. I applaud you. I don’t think I’d have the brain power to do a major and a minor.” you joked. “What instruments do you play?” you very dearly regretted asking this, as he rattled off upwards of ten instruments.

“I took piano lessons as a kid before throwing a tantrum and forcing my mom to let me quit.” you replied when he asked if you’d ever played any. “It was very clear I was not going to be a musical prodigy. I really like listening to it though. Do you have any music out there?”

“Not yet.” Sam drummed his pen against his notebook. “I’m a little bit of a perfectionist. I haven’t been happy enough with anything I’ve made to post it.”

“I get that.” you said as the professor walked in. The classroom quieted as he began talking and Sam relaxed back in his seat. The two of you were paying attention to the lesson intently. Or at least, you thought the both of you were. A torn piece of paper slid across the desk to you, and in the same messy handwriting as in the margins of his textbook, there was a note scrawled.

‘Coffee after class?’ you glanced up at Sam, who was staring forward at the board in concentration, a faint stain of pink on his cheeks.

‘Sure.’ you scribbled back, sliding the paper back to him. You watched out of your peripheral him glancing down at the paper, and a smile creep onto his face, the pink turning a darker shade.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t quite sure how it happened. Coffees after class turned into lunches, turned into study sessions after classes were done for the day. You’d gotten to know him, and realized your first assumption about him was completely wrong. He was a kind, sweet man, who could border on the snobbish side, but cared for his friends and his passions. It all made your crush on him worse, the butterflies exploding from the cage you’d locked them in weeks ago.

Currently you were sat in the library, near a tall window. The sun had faded, and you wished the campus was a little more poorly lit, yearning to see the stars in the dark navy sky. Sam was scribbling away in a notebook next to you, flipping through pages of Great Expectations.

“Y/N, you’re never going to get this paper done.” Sam admonished you with a quirk of his eyebrow. Your own copy of the book was turned upside down while open, and your own notebook nearly blank.

“I just can’t concentrate, Sam.” you sighed. “I miss home. I feel like I haven’t seen the stars in months.” Sam looked from you to the window you were staring out. After a few moments, he started packing up his belongings. “No, Sam, I promise I’ll start working. You don’t have to go.”

“I’m not going.” he offered simply. “We’re going. Come on.” you packed away your own things and hurried to his side, trying to keep up with his long stride. As you left the library, Sam ushered you to his car. You watched as he drove off campus, and you slightly wondered if he was going to take you for ice cream, but realized it was too cold with the late fall weather for the local parlor to be open. After nearly twenty minutes of driving, he pulled down a dirt road, and parked in a small gravel lot.

“The nature preserve?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You wanted to see the stars.” he smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt. You did the same as the two of you stepped out of his car. You met him at the front bumper, and you tilted your head up immediately, grinning. Twinkling above you were the stars you’d longed to see for weeks. “Is this good enough?”

“Sam, it’s perfect.” you gave him a smile, not realizing how close he’d been standing to you. His soft smile made your heart flutter, and you noticed he was wearing a yellow coat tonight, much like the yellow sweater you’d first seen him in. You weren’t sure what came over you as your hands reached up, gripping the lapels of the coat. Before you could stop yourself you were pulling him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. He was frozen against you for a moment, and you nearly pulled back to start running away, but after a moment, his hands found their place on your waist, his lips moving against yours.

“Wow, you must really like the stars.” Sam whispered against your lips when you both came up for air. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of your chest, causing him to chuckle too.

“I do.” you took your moment of bravery a step further. “And I like you too.” you watched as Sam’s eyes went wide for a brief moment, then the corners upturned as he grinned.

“I like you too, Y/N.” he said. “Ever since I saw you that first day of class, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. It took me a whole month to be able to even talk to you.”

“I would’ve never talked to you. Ever.” you admitted. A hurt look crossed Sam’s face, and you hurried to clarify. “No, it’s just you’re so attractive, and really smart and I just never would’ve had the guts to talk to you.”

“You think I’m attractive?” you rolled your eyes as Sam teased you.

“I just kissed you under the stars, didn’t I?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laid on the end of Sam’s bed, he was curled up by the head, a book of poetry in his hands, as he read aloud to you. You’d hung Christmas lights around the walls, even though it was barely Thanksgiving, and they were the only lights in the room. Your eyes were closed as he spoke slowly, making sure he used the correct pentameter the stanza called for.

“How love came in I do not know, whether by the eye, or ear, or no; Or whether with the soul it came at first infused with the same; Whether in part ’tis here or there, Or, like the soul, whole everywhere, This troubles me: but I as well as any other this can tell: That when from hence she does depart the outlet then is from the heart.”

“Can you imagine being so in love that you write something like that?” you murmured as he turned the page. “Can you imagine being the girl that was written for and hearing it?”

“I can imagine the first part.” Sam said distractedly, jotting notes down in the margin of the book. Your eyes opened, glancing over at him as he scribbled. His hair was pulled back from his face in a small bun at the back of his head, a few strands falling out near his ears. His long, slender nose and high cheekbones made him look almost mad as he concentrated on writing.

“Oh?” you asked, trying to implore him to spill about his love, ignoring the jealous tension in your stomach.

“Well, I’ve never written poetry, but I’ve written music with the same intention.” he shrugged. “A lot more lately than ever.”

“Have you written about me?” you asked. His eyes peered over the top of the book at you, a playful twinkle in them.

“Maybe.” he smirked bashfully. You sat up, clamoring to your knees and straddling his lap. Sam sat the book down next to him on the bed.

“I’d like to hear this possible song about me. I should be appropriately wooed.” you murmured, resting your hands on his shoulders and playing with the stray hairs at the nape of his neck. His brown eyes gazed up at your face as he adjusted himself against the pillows behind him.

“Well, one goes kind of like this.” he started tapping a finger on your left thigh, his other hand tapping along your arm. He softly repeated ba da dum ba da dum under his breath as his digits tapped up and down your skin, creating goosebumps. Truthfully, you weren’t paying any attention at all to the melody he was transcribing to you. Your face was burning at the proximity of your hips to his, and the fact his eyes never left yours as he touched you.

“That was lovely.” you whispered, licking your bottom lip. “Consider me wooed.” Sam barely chuckled, giving you a quick look before attaching his lips to yours. “Is Danny coming home soon?”

“He’s got class until seven.”

“Perfect.”

#sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka #sam gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fleet imagine

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civilgroupie-gvf · 2 years

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Desire Between The Lines

Sam Kiszka X Reader

Summary: It’s your first semester of college, and you fall for your T.A. Fluffy and smutty.

*I took some creative liberties with Sam’s age.

~~~

You knew your first semester of college was off to an interesting start, when you slept in that late August morning. You were practically running towards the East wing, praying you didn’t forget deodorant. Once you arrived and entered the class, your plan to sneak in inconspicuously was sidetracked by your panting, as you rushed past blank stares from other students on the way to the only available desk.

“And you are?” A small woman with a bowl cut and round black-rimmed glasses asked from the front of the class.

“Y/N. Sorry I’m late.” You said taking your laptop out and opening it.

The white board said “Intro to Creative Writing”. You had taken this class mostly because you had no idea what you wanted to major in yet and thought it would be an Easy A. You loved to write, but you weren’t sure if it was something you were actually good at. The room was silent as everyone contained themselves within the tension and stress of starting a new term. The professor was petite but very intimidating. She didn’t smile, and her straight black hair sat perfectly on her cheeks, framing her thin face. The rest of the class was the typical syllabus routine that was not much different than high school. The professor laid out the structure of the class which was divided into four parts: poetry, short Stories, novels, and script writing, with a final work that could be in whichever format you chose.

“You may assume I cover poetry first because it’s easy. You would be wrong. It’s first because it’s the most difficult. You have to have something worth saying in very little words.” You liked her already. You didn’t mind how cold she came across.

“If you can survive poetry you can survive anything.” She said finally. Waving her hand at the class to signal it was dismissed.

~~~

“White chocolate frozen latte with chocolate chips! Extra whipped cream!” The barista screamed over the crowd of students frantically waiting for their dose of caffeine to get them through the day. You made your way to the counter to pick up your drink when you heard someone talking to you.

“That’s uh, quite the drink!”

You were surprised to find a lanky long-haired man looming over you with a bit of a goofy grin.

“Yea...” You said trying to hide how incredibly attractive you found him. “I reserve it for when I’m having a stressful day. When I need something sweet.”

“Makes sense. I can’t imagine being stressed after doubling down on chocolate like that!” He continued to tease. “Is it because you were late to Creative Writing?”

“Are you in that class?” You asked, feeling the sudden embarrassment creep onto your face as you realized the whole debacle happened in front of this gorgeous man sculpted directly from the female gaze. He wore a brown sweater with a chevron pattern of white and beige. His brown hair cascading onto each shoulder. He had very defined eye brows that framed his face, and sat parallel to his tremendous cheekbones.

“I’m the T.A. You must’ve missed when Professor Dupont introduced me.” He gave you a side smile and shook your hand. “I’m Sam.”

“Right on.” You said trying not to think about how his first impression of you was you being late to the first class of the semester, panting, and sweating.

“Well, enjoy your white chocolate with chocolate chip swirl drink thingamajig! I’ll see you on Wednesday.” He said picking up what looked like a black coffee from the counter.

“Oh I will!” you laughed and took a sip of your sweet concoction.

~~~

You woke up Wednesday morning engulfed in anxiety over what to wear. This was unusual for you, but you decided to ignore it and the fact that it probably had to do with Sam. You arrived to class early and took a seat in the middle front row. As your classmates trickled in, you couldn’t help but get the urge to check if Sam had arrived. You felt silly and stopped looking up, until suddenly a familiar laugh coasted in from the hallway into the classroom. You felt your heart thumping as you gave into the rush of having a high school crush on this man you just met. Professor Dupont glided in, swiftly starting the first lesson on poetry.

“Everyone take out paper and something to write with. Sam that includes you.” Dupont began to explain as she slowly paced from one side of the room to the other. “Write a poem about what you’re feeling right now. If you don’t know what you’re feeling, that’s an even better reason to write. We aren’t going to start by reading someone else’s work. To appreciate anyone else’s vulnerability and respect for the truth, we have to look in the mirror. In this class I will dare you to strip down, as raw and uncomfortable as that is. If you refuse to do that you’ll be wasting my precious time. I don’t like my time being wasted, and that will be reflected on your grade. ”

The room fell silent. Slowly the dragging of led on paper could be heard, and intensified as people began to trust their thoughts enough to write them down. You looked around the room and spotted Sam in the upper right desk closest to Dupont’s desk. He was wearing a red turtle neck, with black slacks that ended right above his ankle, exposing his sock-less feet inside faux leather loafers. He was deep in thought, chewing on his pencil eraser for a few seconds before looking at you. It was as if he felt you staring. He gave you a small lego-hand wave and smile before getting back to his page and starting to write. You liked the way he dressed. It was interesting. It balanced simple with eccentric. The way he ran his fingers through his hair, in deep thought, made your stomach do flips. You turned your attention to the blank page right as Dupont noticed you were the only one not writing.

“Y/N a blank page tells me you have no idea how you feel. Either that or you’re daydreaming about someone. Mind sharing which one it is?”

“I...” You let out feeling your ears getting hot.

“Write. It. Down.” She said before turning to walk across the room.

You looked down at the tauntingly blank paper and then closed your eyes trying to check in with your body.

You began to write:

“Clouds are just water,

That’s easy to be.

My mind is blue granite,

My lungs cannot breathe.

Checked in with the sunlight,

And I fell asleep.

Was coated with mortar,

Don’t bother. Don’t weep.”

“Alright.” Sam said standing at the front of the class. “Everyone pass your paper’s forward without editing anything. I’m watching you!” Sam joked. “Make sure your names are on it.” The ruffling of papers took over the entire atmosphere until Sam held the complete stack. He straightened the stack out by tapping it on your desk.

“I’m going to shuffle them and pass them back out. If you get your own let me know, and well,” Sam looked around the room, “You get it.” He shrugged.

Your mind went wild, thinking about how depressing your poem was until Sam handed you someone else’s poem. The top right had the name: “Salix Stevenson” written on it.

“Black tar trapped in a shrieking feedback loop.

Taking my doses,

I pray the sticky dark drowns me.”

You suddenly felt better about your poem.

Sam took his place at the front of the class.

“Now underline what you like, circle what can improve, and add question marks if it doesn’t make sense. Write a brief comment at the bottom. Sign your name. I’ll collect them in a few minutes, and pass them back to the writer.” Sam’s slender body made its way back to his desk. His hips swayed as he walked calmly. He was one of those people that never seemed to be in a hurry to do anything. Sam was very serious during class. A huge difference from the rambunctious goofy dude you talked to at the coffee shop.

You felt like the air in your stomach was punched out when you received your poem signed at the bottom “CB: Sam Kiszka, T.A.” Your cheeks were scorching, and you did not dare look in Sam’s direction. You simply hoped he had forgotten your name, and started to look through the red marks that matched the scarlet on your cheeks. He circled a couple things, and underlined a few others. Towards the bottom a small note:

“Poignant. Reminds me of a Blues song. Keep working on it.”

You prayed class would end right then and there, so you could swoon in peace.

~~~

It was Thursday night, after Intro to Chemistry. You walked across campus towards the library in the crisp dusk air. You had planned to meet up with a study group that was formed at the end of Creative Writing. Dupont had explained the homework for the next two weeks was to work on the poems you wrote in class. She heavily encouraged peer reviews before turning it in to her.

“Hey.” You said as you walked inside the private room Salix had reserved. You took a seat between Salix and Tanner. Salix wore a black vest with patches, and a bright orange cap. Both nostrils had studs on them, and you could see their tongue piercing when they laughed. Tanner was a small guy with circle glasses. You knew he was a Virgo just by looking at him. His leg was crossed and shaking as he sipped his coffee.

“Sam should be here soon.” Tanner said, putting the coffee down, and opening up his laptop.

Salix gave you a nod for a hello.

“The T.A.?” You asked. You suddenly felt sweaty everywhere.

“Yeah, I figured we can have him help us out. I have no idea what Dupont is looking for, and I need to ace this class. My father has threatened to change my major to Architecture if I don’t. He doesn’t think becoming a novelist will actually pay the bills.” He said, sounding defeated.

“I wasn’t expecting Sam to come...” You trailed off as you noticed Sam walking towards the door of the room and braced yourself as he opened it. The door swung open producing a sharp breeze that sifted through Sam’s long chestnut hair.

“HEY!” Sam shouted bringing life into the room. Everyone straightened up in their seats and waited for him to sit down. Everyone greeted him back, and you felt paralyzed by the fear of saying something stupid in front of him.

“I’m not a professor guys, you can calm down.” Sam spoke through his side smile. He let out an exaggerated sigh as he finally took a seat and looked around the table. “So! Tanner asked me to join so I can give you the rundown of what Dupont is like and what she wants. Basically she acts super cold but she’s actually very lenient with her grading. She loves people who have a passion for writing like she does, and does everything in her power to help her students grow.” You all listened intently as he spoke. He shared that he initially wanted to major in Jazz studies but changed his major after taking a class with Professor Dupont. He explained that he suddenly realized writing is what gave him life. He shared that he plays in a band at local dive bars with his brothers and childhood friend. “It’s a hobby on the weekends.” He explained. He looked very at peace as he shared he was content with the joy of writing and creating music without the expectation of money or fame. “Eventually I want to become a full time Literature Professor.” He said turning to look at you directly. “So tell me about yourselves. What brought you here?”

Stunned by his eye contact you stumbled on your words.

“Uhhh...Oh. I just needed to take something to maintain my full time student status.” You said flatly. You immediately regretted how you answered. It wasn’t true but you were too shy to admit you had no idea what direction you wanted to go in life.

“I mean I love to write. I’m not that good though.” You tried to recover but still cringed at how cynical you sounded.

“What are you talking about?” Sam looked at you incredulously. “I liked your poem. I think there’s a lot of potential there. I’ve been meaning to ask, are you ok?” He teased.

“Yes I’m ok.” You said laughing.

The rest of the study session, Sam went around reading everyone’s poem and giving you all suggestions. Sam was so difficult to listen to because he looked like a renaissance painting of an angel, and it was very distracting. As he explained stanzas, thematic ideas and motifs, he adjusted his hair out of his face and licked his lips as he paused to think. He couldn’t help being goofy as he continued his lecture. His laugh made him throw his head back, and he had an adorable habit of touching the tip of his nose or rubbing his cheek and chin while he spoke. You wanted nothing more than to pounce on his delicate frame, and grab a fist-full of his hair as you fucked him.

“Do you want a ride?” Sam said. You imagined yourself with your legs mounted on his naked body as his hands cupped your breasts, and you rode him on the verge of climax.

“Y/N?” Sam said.

“Huh?” You said snapping out of your fantasy. You hadn’t realized Sam had finished reviewing everyone’s poem.

“Salix said you walked today. Do you want a ride home?” Sam offered again.

“Sure thanks!” You said, taking the opportunity to talk to him alone.

~~~

The car ride started off quiet, but not the kind of quiet that feels awkward. He was looking through his phone and started playing “California” By Joni Mitchell. Sam was good at the casual chit chat, asking how you liked college so far and reminiscing on his time as an undergrad. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you think he was coming on to you, even though the words out of his mouth were very casual and not flirtatious at all. You brushed off the thought, and kept cool. Fearing you were imagining it.

“When do you graduate from your Masters program?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation going, and also to find out more about him.

“This is it. I applied for graduation and now I just need to pass all my Fall semester finals.” He said with a hint of concern, but a lot of excitement.

“How old are you?” You asked hoping it wasn’t a weird question.

“I’m 26. You?” He responded.

“I turned 21 over the summer.” You said feeling like a child as you said it.

“You’re so young.” He said neutrally. You couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “Your poetry’s pretty good for your age.” He said with a laugh. You appreciated the compliment but felt sad at the age difference. He obviously would see you as a kid from now on. It made your heart sink with disappointment.

“People say I’m mature for my age.” You were trying to recover.

“Well I can’t wait to read more of your work and find out.” He said as he pulled up outside of your apartment complex.

~~~

For months you contained your crush in your mind and your journal at home. You took any excuse to talk to Sam, and visit his office hours. You built a relationship that sat between professional and platonic friendship. You were very good at keeping things school-related, and somehow still intimate. He shared his poetry and lyrics, opening up about his dreams of writing a novel one day that he could dedicate to his partner and children in the future. After months of this dynamic you felt comfortable asking him a question you were dying to ask for a long time. You had been in his office for an hour talking about literature and art when you took a deep breath, and finally let out the question you had avoided asking for fear of making Sam uncomfortable.

“Do you have a partner?” You weren’t sure if the room really fell silent or if your anxiety left you deaf.

“Nah, I don’t have time for all that. You?” Sam said, looking at you before going back to arranging paperwork into different colored folders. He didn’t look offended by the question so you felt safe again.

“Nah me either.” You said, “I don’t know if I stopped looking, or if no one’s attracted to me.”

“Oh I doubt it’s the latter.” He said looking down at what he was doing. You noticed he was blushing and it made you want to shout at him and demand that he kiss you. You were both quiet for a moment while your heart thumped loudly under your sweater.

“Welp! I think I’m gonna go get something to eat.” Sam said standing from his seat. He looked jumpy and a little pale.

You walked out of the office together and faced each other. You looked into his eyes searching for any hint of his interest in you. Sam looked back so deliberately. He was definitely saying something behind those eyes. You noticed you were standing a lot closer than usual, and Sam put his hand on his chin, rubbing it pensively. It looked like he was mustering the courage to say something, and finally he said, “See you later.” He gave you a smile and took a left. You took a right, walking to the library in a daze, trying to decode how Sam felt about you. You couldn’t help but want to follow that feeling. A feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time, and forgot even existed. He held your attention, and he understood you when you spoke. He was kind and goofy. He never judged your writing no matter how bad you thought it was. You put your earphones on and played a love song, all the while remembering the look on Sam’s face before he said goodbye.

~~~

It was the eve of the creative writing holiday party that was planned by Tanner since before Thanksgiving. You were done with finals and were struggling to find an excuse to go to Sam’s office hours. You started your usual walk to his office anyway. You needed to know if he was going to the party. His door was slightly ajar with a sad looking wreath hanging from his door. It was green with nothing else on it. You held your fist up to the door ready to knock, pausing, while you tried to think of what to say.

You heard Sam say in a British accent, “Who goes there?” in response to your knocking.

“It’s just me.” You said walking in like you had so many times before. Sam sat at his desk looking up at you quickly without interrupting his aggressive typing.

“Hey you!” Sam said as he continued working. It wasn’t unusual for you to just hangout while he worked. However you were on a mission this time. You plopped onto the green velvet couch and stared at Sam for a few moments before blurting out. “The holiday party is tomorrow.” Your brain couldn’t think of an ice breaker so you decided to just let it out.

“Yup!” Sam continued to type up a storm.

“Are you going?” This question made Sam’s eyes dart over to you; the typing had stopped.

“Yeah, most likely.” He said “Are you?”

“Yeah I’ll be there.” You responded before changing the subject. You were always careful to bring things back to school work which inevitably went into tangents about different subjects. Most times it ended in heated debates about something philosophical or something frivolous. Whenever you ran out of things to talk about with Sam, you’d bring up a mainstream pop artist you liked just to piss him off. There was something about his pretentious stance on music that made you want him even more.

~~~

When you arrived at Cantina that Saturday, you couldn’t feel your finger tips. It must have been the December chill that finally arrived in California. You considered maybe your heart gave up on pumping 100 miles an hour, from the anticipation of seeing Sam outside of class, and you were actually dead. You hadn’t had an excuse to hangout with him outside of school, let alone a bar, until now. You felt all the flirtations, and tension that built up throughout the semester was on the verge of exploding. Your nerves were begging for alcohol so that was the first thing you planned to do when you walked in. Cantina was an old dive bar known for it’s karaoke nights every Saturday. The bar was modeled after a Western Saloon which juxtaposed the shamrock green pool table, and neon beer signs. There was a makeshift stage in the corner near the dart board where an older man dressed like a construction worker drunkenly sang “I Walk The Line '' By Johnny Cash. The entire space was full of Christmas decorations that glittered as the Karaoke DJ lights flashed onto different directions. It was a warm respite from the cold outside. You spotted your group and waved at them before pointing at the bar to let them know you were getting a drink first.

“I don’t think they have Chocolate-chip-ahoy drinks with extra whip here.”

You turned to face Sam’s smug smile to your right.

“I’m going for a tequila shot actually. Take a shot with me.” You felt daring in a new and more casual setting. He looked amazing. The red and white Christmas sweater sat perfectly on his thin body. His hair looked blow dried, and laid neatly around his shoulders and over his white scarf.

“Sure why not. In the spirit of Christmas!” He shouted. You were used to his loud antics by now.

“Sam!” You could hear multiple people shouting from your cohort. Sam was beloved by everyone. His goofiness and readiness to assist with anything was appreciated by everyone. Especially the girls.

“Hey!” Sam shouted across the small dive bar as he waved.

When the two double shots appeared you and Sam clinked and downed the bitter liquid which sent heat throughout your body shortly after. You both sucked on a lime and shared a laugh before making your way to the party table. You both took the last two chairs which, luckily, happened to be next to each other. The first half of the gathering consisted of talking about finals, and next semester as more and more rounds of beer and liquor made their way around the table. As people loosened up, the topics began to include ranting about certain professors, and some started to share stories about their family and friends. Sam was very animated as a speaker but also as a listener. Whenever someone said something shocking, it was expressed on his face with a “No way!” that followed. Sam shared a wild story about his oldest brother setting fire to a Christmas tree in his childhood backyard in Michigan.

“We had to call the fire department because the flames were getting huge! Our mom nearly killed us after she saw my friend Danny running out of the house with a fire extinguisher. Thankfully no one got hurt.” Sam put his hand on your thigh but quickly removed it. You knew he was drunk from his slurred speech and the boisterous laughter that was somehow louder than usual. “From the fire anyway because we all got a well deserved smack from Karen when the fire department cleared our property.” Sam chugged his beer holding it with both hands as if he was looking for something to distract the wandering one.

Sam was the first from the group to get up and sing. You expected him to perform an old country song or something by Bob Dylan. He stood behind the mic stand, his body faintly swaying from all the alcohol.

“I’m not a singer, I’m a bass player so be gentle folks.” He said in a deep voice into the mic. The backing choir vocals from “I Say a Little Prayer” by Aretha Franklin sparked out of the speakers and the entire bar cheered for Sam as he closed his eyes and started to sing. His singing voice wasn’t bad but you could tell it wasn’t something he practiced. His dancing on the other hand can only be described as classic-white-Michigander. He definitely had two left feet but none of that took away from the burning desire that hid under your clothes and was exasperated by all the drinking. Everyone, except for you, took a turn belting songs. Tanner performed “Lucky” By Britney Spears. Salix mumbled the words to “Sedated” by Ramones. Eventually everyone started to chant your name begging for you to sing something. Sam seemed to have the most enthusiasm since he banged the table as he chanted. You finally gave in and walked up to the DJ to make your request. Following Sam’s unexpected choice of song, you requested “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” by John Denver. Everyone cheered as you sang right on beat to the surprisingly fast song. Sam was standing up clapping along, and you drunkenly mimicked line dancing you’d probably seen in a movie or TV show. When the song finished you took a bow and looked up to find Sam engulfing you with his gaze amidst the applause. If looks could fuck, you were now pregnant.

The night was winding down, and people began to trickle out. Your voice was hoarse from all the singing and laughing, and you had to concentrate on walking as you and Sam made your way outside. Sam offered his arm, and you linked onto him without a second thought. You were now the last to be picked up by your Uber which gave you the opportunity you had hoped for. Sam pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and asked if it was ok if he smoked. You nodded, and thought about what you wanted to say. You watched as Sam lit his cigarette, cupping his hand around the flame to shield it from the wind.

“Did you have a good time?” Sam asked after blowing thick white smoke out of his lips.

“I always have a good time with you.” You heard yourself say.

Sam looked at you stunned before smiling and saying “I always have a good time with you too.”

You could no longer stand the starving appetite caused by Sam’s conspicuous and incessant flirting. The lack of inhibitions allowed you to go in with a full blown passionate kiss. You realized you were more drunk than you thought when you had to hold onto him so you wouldn’t topple over. Sam held you trying to keep you from falling as well. His right arm was wrapped around you, the other was lifting the cigarette away so it wouldn’t burn you. He kissed back. Your lips pressing onto his before sneaking your tongue into him. His tongue reciprocated the gesture as you ran your fingers along his scalp softly pulling at his luscious hair. The kiss was lengthy and smelled like tequila and IPA. You noticed his hand had made its way onto your right butt cheek and he was squeezing it as the kiss became more and more intense. The sudden sound of a car pulling up next to you interrupted the embrace and Sam said, “I think that’s your Uber.” and pulled away from you as if he had been caught doing something naughty.

“Come home with me.” You said looking into his eyes after you opened the car door. You wanted to be direct. You didn’t want anything to get lost in translation. You were sick and tired of the insinuations and veiled mutual attraction. You pulled at his right arm as you stumbled backwards falling into the back seat.

“I think you had a lot to drink.” Sam said laughing and helping you up. You knew he was trying to play coy. He helped you get seated and pulled at the seat belt to strap you in. His face was so close to yours but he evaded your eye contact.

“No, I'm not too drunk Sam. Let’s stop with the games.” You slurred out with your eyes closing from the inebriation.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Sam said, still laughing. “I canceled my Uber, I’ll Uber from your place. I want to make sure you get home safe.”

“Sure Sam we’ll go with that.” You said, “Hey why are you all sober all the sudden?” You asked, pointing at his face.

“I’m not that sober.” He explained, “My brothers and I drink like fish. I’m just used to it.” You leaned onto his chest and laid your head on it. He didn’t fight you but you could tell he was nervous.

“Is this ok?” You asked suddenly realizing how intrusive you were being.

“Yeah.” Sam said, smiling down at you. He let his hand lay on your thigh as you fell asleep for the rest of the car ride. You were lulled to sleep by the steady thumping heart you so badly wanted to belong to you.

~~~

Sam walked you up to your apartment, and took care of the key-in-the-doorknob part because you couldn’t see straight. He helped you sit on your couch and took your shoes off.

“Where do you want me Sam?” You asked, trying to be sensual.

“Shh isn’t your roommate asleep?” Sam whispered somehow still loudly.

“She’s out of town for the holidays. C’mere.” You tugged at his sleeve. “We have it all to ourselves.” Sam sat next to you and held your hand which would otherwise be creeping up his pant leg.

“Y/N we can’t do this.” He said. looking deeply into your eyes.

“Sure we can. Why not.” You slumped defeated for a second and then pulled yourself on top of him. “Why not Sammy?.” You said kissing his neck.

“Oh my god.” Sam whispered. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He grabbed your face and held it between both hands. Your lips were so out of reach from his face. Your cheeks were smushed inwards making you look like a goldfish.

“Maybe if you weren’t so young, or one of my students, or maybe if you weren’t drunk. You’re all three right now.” He looked at you pleading with his eyes that you would understand. You sighed and sat back down on the couch once Sam released you. You stayed silent as you tried to fight the urge to feel embarrassed for throwing yourself at him.

“I feel so dumb.” You let out, and leaned back on the couch covering your face with your hands.

“No no, I want this too.” Sam leaned in taking your hands into his. “It’s just not the right time.” He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and stood up.

“I’m going to head out.” Sam announced.

“Ok...” you said, closing your eyes and laying down on the couch in a spinning room. “Please lock the door behind you.”

“Goodnight.” Sam said, taking one final look at you.

The last thing you heard was the door locking shut and Sam’s footsteps as he walked away from your apartment.

~~~

You hadn’t seen or heard from Sam until the beginning of Spring. You were at the farmers market, that was held in the college campus parking lot, on a bright Sunday morning with your childhood friend Ozzy. You met as toddlers and were betrothed to each other by your moms who happened to be best friends. Unfortunately for them, you saw him as a brother, and Ozzy was into men. You chose an off the shoulder dress the color yellow to match the sun. Ozzy was in his usual emo black attire with a chain that hung down his right leg. You linked arms and walked through the crowd catching up on all the time you had been busy with school. Sam of course was a topic of conversation that Ozzy was very interested in. You had told him bits and pieces but you had promised to give him the full story today. As luck would have it, you were in a heated debate over which Beatle was the best Beatle, when you spotted Sam standing in line for spring rolls. He was wearing a pale blue paisley button up and tan shorts with his sunglasses holding his hair back on top of his head. He carried a cream colored tote with succulents printed on it. You didn’t have time to consider avoiding him because as soon as the thought popped into your head Sam turned and looked right at you. As if he felt your presence.

“Hey!” Sam said in his usual greeting yell.

“That’s Sam.” You managed to say under your breath as you both walked over to him.

“Hey, how are you?” You asked.

Sam’s glaring was obviously directed at Ozzy as it disappeared when he looked at you and responded, “Pretty good.”

“This is my friend Ozzy.” You said putting your hand on Ozzy’s shoulder.

They shook hands but you could tell there was a coldness in Sam you hadn’t seen before. You wondered if he thought you and Ozzy were a couple.

“What kind of spring rolls did you get?” You said trying to stay present so as to keep from remembering the last time Sam had seen you. Drunk, and horny on your couch.

“I ordered strawberry. My favorite.”

You and Ozzy picked up snacks as well and met up with Sam at one of the tables on campus. You laid out hummus and pita chips, while Ozzy opened a jar of candy coated cashews. The conversation flowed easily, and you enjoyed watching Sam devour the beautifully hand-crafted spring rolls with bright red strawberry slices peaking out from under the rice paper. You and Sam caught up and you were mortified when you saw a text from Ozzy that said:

“I’m gonna leave you two alone.”

Ozzy recognized the panic in your eyes, and before you could chicken out he announced to the table that he had to get going. “I have to get back to water my plants.” You gave Ozzy a look that said “Bullshit.”

Alone at last, you and Sam could drop the act.

“How’ve you been?” Sam asked, leaning in closer than before. “Is that your partner?”

“God no. He’s like my brother.” You laughed. “I’ve been good honestly. I’m sorry I came onto you so hard after the Christmas party.” You said getting it out of the way.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out afterward. A lot of stuff with my family came up, and with work as well...” He trailed off. He looked sincere, but there was a sadness you couldn’t quite place. “To be honest, I also needed time to figure out what I was feeling towards you.” He was looking down at his hands now.

“So...what did you land on?” You asked.

“About what?” He sounded shocked.

“About us.”

“I want to show you something before we do all that.” He said standing up.

You were confused but decided you’d go along with whatever he wanted. At this point this man had a chokehold on you like no other. After you put your snacks into your bag you followed Sam to the music wing. He led you through a building and multiple doors you had never been through and you finally made it to a cold and lonely recording studio. The lighting in the room was warm however, and highlighted the shiny black piano in the middle of the room.

“I spent a lot of time here when I was majoring in Jazz.” He said walking to the piano, sitting down, and tapping different keys, making sure it was in tune.

“Oh you’re going to play me something?” You said giving him a half smile like he always used to give you.

He started slowly gliding his fingers back and forth, on the black and white keys, with his eyes closed. Sam furrowed his brow as he concentrated on hitting every note on time. The piece was beautiful. It hung somewhere between grief and hope. As the emotion built up, so did Sam’s movements. Long strands of his hair shook downward as he slammed notes, giving a performance so good you got goosebumps. The song softened as it started to come down from the climax into a dulcet melody that trailed off into the atmosphere and disappeared into the silence of the room. You gave it a beat before you gave it a well deserved applause.

“That was beautiful, Sam.” Your voice sounded louder than expected in that sound-proofed room. Sam didn’t move from his seat on the piano bench. You walked up and sat next to him.

“What is it?” You asked, searching for his gaze.

“I wrote it for you.” He said without looking up.

“I love it.” You said lifting his chin up so you could look him in the eye.

“I’m moving to Spain to teach English by the end of the Month.” He paused and took a breath. You finally understood the look in his eyes. “I wrote it when I realized I wouldn’t see you again.”

You felt as if your entire world crumbled around you. It felt like the air in your stomach had been knocked out. You felt disappointed, sad, but you also understood. You always knew Sam’s life would eventually be on a different path. You just hadn’t expected it to come to a crossroads so soon. There was so much you wanted to tell him, and so much you wish you would have done. You cursed at yourself silently for not kissing him sooner, and telling him how you truly felt about him. You felt that expressing that now would only exacerbate the already painful experience of having to say goodbye. Likely forever. So instead of saying it you decided to show him. You stood over him and said, “It’s ok.” As you pushed the hair out of his face and hugged his head tightly into your chest. Sam looked up at you and like magnets, your lips found each other once again. The kiss was passionate, and Sam’s hands were holding your hips from below. “I’ll be damned if I don’t take my chance.” You thought, and proceeded to straddle Sam on that thick wooden piano bench. You both accepted what was about to happen with your eyes, but Sam wanted to make sure.

“Is this ok?” He said pulling back only long enough for the question.

“I want to make love to you.” You said. You wanted to appease his request for consent, but you made sure he knew just how bad you wanted it.

Sam unzipped his pants and you reached inside to find his rock solid penis desperate to come out. Sam’s hands pushed your dress up revealing the powder pink thong you wore underneath. You helped him by holding your dress up as he ran two fingers along your panty line. You pulled the top of your dress down to expose your breasts to Sam’s feasting eyes. He quickly began to suck on your nipples. It excited you so much you let out a small moan which you regretted after remembering you were still on campus. Sam’s fingers moved your underwear to the side, leaving you open for penetration. You pulled on his cock teasing him before you slid him inside your hot and wet pussy. The feeling was like tasting color, or seeing music. Your grinding was slow and steady while you got used to the feeling of having him in so deep. Sam’s hands were now on your hips, and yours were on his head pulling at the soft brown hair that teased you all Fall semester long. The grinding became bouncing as you both got closer and closer to orgasm. All that could be heard was whispers that said things like. “Does that feel good?” and “Fuck me harder.” The breathing got faster and the energy between you was electric. Finally it was time. You stared into each other’s souls as the pleasure induced an orgasm so magnificent, you almost shed a tear. You both shivered in the sudden culmination of sexual tension that had built up for months. As your bodies found stillness coming down from another plane, you held each other. There was heartbreak in the final moments of you being one flesh, but there was also a profound amount of gratitude. You felt so fortunate to have been able to experience something so intimate with someone like Sam who you admired, and felt so incredibly seen by. It was the only closure that could have possibly made sense at this point. That was your goodbye.

~~~

Sam walked you to your car carrying his tote as well as yours. You sat in the driver’s seat and buckled in after opening the window for Sam. He handed you your bag and leaned down on the bottom of the window frame.

“So that’s it.” You said looking up at Sam. You reached deep down inside yourself looking for the courage to smile, and found it. He smiled back.

“Take care.” He said softly.

“You too.”

You backed your car out and drove towards the parking exit. In your rearview mirror Sam remained watching you go. His sunglasses were on, and he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. You watched his reflection until you had to turn, and were able to face towards him again. You sent a hand-wave, unsure if he could see it. He waved back. You turned onto the road and drove away from Sam the T.A., focusing on the wide open road ahead as you wiped a single tear from your cheek.

158 notes · View notes

dharma-divine · 2 years

Text

Turning Page

For Liv xx

Summary: Stuck with a seemingly monotonous book as the subject for a final project, you quickly find that the prolific tale of two unlikely lovers is just what you need to pursue your romantic interest in your longtime classmate and beloved friend.

Pairing: Sam x (Female) Reader

Word Count: ~ 9,000

Warnings: 18+!!! Explicit sexual content

Notes: Thank you again @jakekiszska for helping me edit <3

“Ah, Mr. Kiszka,” your professor's booming voice echoes through the lecture hall, just as you hear the door behind you creaking open. “Nice of you to finally join us on this fine Monday morning.”

You’re seated front and center of the large classroom, so you have to fully turn around to see the piteous, wide-eyed boy standing in the entryway, the door closing behind him with a loud clammer.

“My apologies Dr. Howard,” Sam smiles meekly, his backpack slung over one of his shoulders. “I had some… car troubles.”

You glance up at the clock above him, reading that class started fifteen minutes ago.

The professor sighs, his mouth slanted in a frown.

“I’ll excuse it today,” he nods, motioning for Sam to sit in his usual spot, in the empty seat to your left. “But just this once.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sam accepts graciously, his hands folding in gratitude before he shuffles through the aisle.

He sets his backpack on the floor with a quiet thud, slumping into the chair. You try to stifle an amused giggle at his grand entrance, and he shoots you a facetious glare.

You and Sam have been friends since freshman year, meeting at the orientation for your shared literacy majors. You immediately bonded over your love of music during one of those dumb icebreaker games, and you’ve been the perfect duo since, taking almost every class you can together.

While you’re both excellent writers, Sam certainly has more of an eye for lyricism; he has a minor in music studies, and he wants to be a songwriter someday, working now as an assistant writer at a studio downtown. With his talent, you know he will end up exactly where he wants to be in the industry, and you can’t wait to see what he makes of his career.

You have your own plans laid out for your future, and while they’re not as perfectly aligned as Sam’s, you’re satisfied with your ventures thus far. You occasionally TA for Dr. Howard, having earned his favoritism with your exceptional grades in his classes, and you help tutor high school students in your free time. Your passion for writing is undeniable, and you know you’re bound to end up in a job that fulfills you just as well as Sam’s.

Even with your irrefutable love for writing though, you don’t think you would be as devoted to your work as you are if it wasn't for him being by your side through nearly all of it.

“Anyway,” your professor continues with a clearing of his throat, pointing back to the slideshow he was projecting onto the screen behind him. “For your final project, you will be analyzing and writing a report on a novel from the Romanticism movement - anywhere between 1790 and 1850.”

Your ears perk at the mention of romanticism — it’s your favorite. The sultry drama, the awe of nature, everything written in that time period is unlike any other. You wish you could simply step into the world of their incredible poems and stories and live in them forever.

“Now, this period covers a lot of ground, so I wanted to make this a bit fun,” Dr. Howard adds as he reaches under his desk and retrieves a small wicker basket, shuffling it around so you see the small slips of paper inside of it. “I’ve written the names of all of the novels I wish for you to cover, and placed them in here.”

He crouches back down, lugging up a larger cardboard box from under the desk. “The department has some copies of these novels that you may borrow. You are to pair up, blindly choose a slip at the end of class, and check out the corresponding book.”

You look over at Sam and make the nonverbal agreement that you will be partners, as if you had any other willing options.

You can hardly stay still for the rest of class, anxious to see what you will choose. You’re hoping for something especially dark and dramatic, like The Scarlet Letter or The Fall of the House of Usher.

When the time comes, you spring up from your chair, scurrying over to be the first in line. You eagerly stick your hand in the basket and shuffle around the strips for a moment before gripping one between your fingertips. You pull it out, smiling as you unravel it, though your expression quickly falls once you read its contents:

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

“What is this, high school English class?” you scoff to yourself, flipping the paper between your fingers as if there was a second choice written elsewhere.

It isn’t that you don’t like Jane Austen, she’s a brilliant romantic author— an author of true romance, of unrequited love stories that you adored reading in grade school— but it just feels a bit underwhelming compared to the countless other options you have.

“Can I choose another?” you ask Dr. Howard, who sits scrolling through the computer on his desk.

“No, ma’am, you get what you get,” he smiles politely, tilting his head down to glance over at you over his thickly lensed glasses. “That’s the fun of it!”

You puff a sigh, sulking up to the box of books. You stick your hand in and shuffle them around in search of yours, your heart lurching every time you see a title you would much rather be reaching for.

You finally find it. This copy must be at least half a century old, its spine worn and delicate. You step away from the box to let the next person search, flipping through its yellowed pages as you make your way back to your seat. Many of them are dogeared, with illegible annotations scribbled in black ink throughout.

Sam is still seated, scrolling through his phone. He looks up once he notices you approaching, his brows furrowing at the sight of your disappointed face.

“What’d we get?”

“Fucking Pride and Prejudice,” you scorn, flicking the slip of paper onto the desk in front of him. “Should that even be able to count? It’s satire.”

“I guess since it’s so renowned,” Sam shrugs as he leans forward to study the slip himself. “It’s not the worst choice. At least we didn’t get, like, Frankenstein or something.”

“Sam, I would’ve much preferred Frankenstein over this,” you inform, stuffing the book in your bag.

He contorts his face in clear disagreement, which causes you to giggle.

“Come on,” you say, snagging your bag from your chair. “Let’s get this over with.”

With this being the last project of the semester, you want it done as quickly as possible, especially with the assumption that the work won’t be very enjoyable.

“Meet at West Oak?” you ask Sam as you wait for him to gather his things, suddenly craving a warm cup of tea and a pastry from your favorite café.

With your nearly perfectly aligned schedules, neither of you have any other classes for the day, so you’ve made it a habit to hang at the library or café to study and catch up on whatever you’ve missed from each other over the weekend.

“I don’t have my car,” Sam reminds you as falls into step at your side.

“Oh, I thought that was just an excuse,” you laugh, filing in line towards the door.

“No, well, I wasn’t having mechanical troubles,” he explains, stepping past you to hold the door open, letting you walk through first from underneath his extended arm. “My problem is Josh. He took it to go visit our parents, without telling me, of course.”

You throw your head back in a laugh. Sam has two older twin brothers, Josh and Jake. They both graduated a few years back, Jake in sound engineering, and Josh in performance arts. Josh is now working as head of your university’s theater department, and Jake is an audio tech at the same studio as Sam, so the twins live together just up the road from you. You have hung out with them multiple times since befriending Sam, and you’ve come to learn that they are both just as talented and intelligent as him, but perhaps a bit spastic — Josh especially. You recall a few months ago when Sam told you that Josh had wrecked and totaled the Jeep he had gotten as a graduation present from their parents. Luckily he wasn’t injured, but they’ve been hesitant to get him another car since. You suppose the issue still stands.

“He stole it right out of the parking garage. I called and he said Jake dropped him off after refusing to let him take his. His excuse for not telling me was he was ‘running late’,” Sam rolls his eyes, air-quoting the last part. “I should have the bastard arrested for theft, I had to walk here.”

You can’t help but laugh at his theatrics. The brothers are always having some sort of conflict, though it never amounts to anything serious, and it goes as nothing but entertainment for you.

“All that trouble, I would’ve just skipped,” you say as you skip through the foyer and out into the chilly winter air.

Holiday break is rapidly approaching, and the treetops and roofs of the buildings around you are dusted lightly with the first fall of snow.

“I could have,” Sam replies, and you notice his pace slows a bit, so you turn around to glance over at him. “But it’s my favorite class, and I didn’t want to miss it.”

He’s giving you this look that he does sometimes, and it never fails to catch you off guard. It’s something about how his usual deep brown eyes suddenly brighten to a warm honey, and how the crescent lines on the sides of his mouth deepen with his lips curved into the softest smile. It gives you an indiscernible feeling deep in the pit of your stomach, like he’s just flattered you.

You don’t let your thoughts wander, and you hope you haven't been staring too long when you clear your throat, motioning to your car parked in the lot across the courtyard.

“Well, don’t worry about it. I can drive.”

The drive there is filled with your usual nonsense chatter, with your music playing softly in the background. You ask about Sam’s holiday plans, and if he’s started Christmas shopping yet.

“Not yet,” he laughs from the passenger seat. “I’m not the best gift giver. But we’re renting a cabin with my grandparents for a week, and I’m really excited. It’s gorgeous, deep in the Huron mountains. Have you been?”

“No, I haven’t,” you smile as you pull into the parking lot of West Oak. “But that sounds lovely.”

“Well, maybe we can go sometime,” Sam offers, and you freeze, even with his nonchalant tone. “It’s beautiful year round.”

“Yeah,” you reply a bit too quickly, and you cringe at how your voice goes up a few octaves. “That would be fun.”

You try to not let yourself deliberate your overzealous reply too much as you twist the steering wheel into the first parking spot, switching off the engine and gathering your things.

“I’m gonna go find us a spot,” you say over your shoulder as you enter the café, leaving Sam to stand in the order line. “Get me usual?”

“Earl grey and danish,” Sam answers, shooting his finger at you to verify.

“You got it,” you point back with a smile. “Whatever flavor they have today.”

You walk through the array of tables, scanning for anything available. It’s a bit busy, but you get lucky and snag one by the window in the far back room, just as a sweet looking elderly couple is leaving it.

You settle down in the chair and pull the needed contents out of your bag: your laptop, a notebook and pens, and…the book.

You sigh as you stare at it, examining it more attentively than when you first laid eyes on it earlier. It’s cover is printed with a marbled design that looks as if someone dipped a paintbrush in a mixture of blues and reds and twirled it across the buckram. The name of the novel is printed in silver, against a ruby red square in its center, with delicate embellishments etched along the edges.

You turn the book in your hands to look at its spine: the same ruby red and dainty adornments, with three navy blue squares, one highlighting the name of its renowned author, the second its printing company, and the last acknowledging its illustrator.

Illustrator? You don’t remember seeing pictures. You flip the book open again, shuffling through its fragile pages until you come across a few that have a firmer, glossy texture, their pastel colors standing out immediately.

You study the delicate prints. One shows Elizabeth, the sharp- witted main character of the story. She’s wearing a pale yellow dress, with frilly lace trimmings and feathered, sumptuous bonnet tied to her head, its pink ribbon streaming down her shoulders. Her expression is wistful, her doe eyes staring longingly into the distance as a letter hangs loosely from her delicate hands.

You remember reading about the letters, her unrequited lover spilling his heart to her through the ink. The idea of only being able to communicate through the chance of a letter strikes you as incredibly romantic. You wish more people wrote them nowadays.

The next page is of the man himself — Mr. Darcy. He looks stoic and noble, a cane tucked under the arm of his tailcoat that skirts along his white breeches, his top hat crowning a head of thick, dark curls. His face is handsome and earnest, his body and gaze facing to the side. You don’t know what scene in particular the illustration comes from, but his legs are extended as though he’s apprehensive to go somewhere. You imagine he’s on his way to Elizabeth.

You forgot how much you actually love this book. You chalked it up to you being a lovelorn teenager when you thought back to how much you enjoyed it in high school, but the story starts coming back to you as you look though the rest of the pictures. You’re admiring another handsome illustration of Darcy when you see a figure approaching from your peripherals.

“Here you go,” Sam chimes as he sets down a travel coffee cup with its paper sleeve, a foil wrapped danish balancing on its lid. “One steaming cup of earl grey, and one raspberry danish.”

He places the danish on the table once everything is set, and slides into the chair across from you.

“Thank you,” you smile, setting down the book and eagerly grabbing the tea, taking a careful sip of the steaming liquid.

“What’d you get?” you ask as you eye his cup, unwrapping your warm pastry.

“I asked the barista what her favorite drink is,” he says, picking it up and examining the label scribbled on its side.. “Caramel, praline, something. I don’t know, but it sounded good.”

He lifts the cup to his lips with both hands, his fingers lacing together to cradle it gently. It always amuses you how strangely he drinks things, almost like a child.

“Tastes good too,” he smiles. “Wanna try?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you giggle, breaking off the first piece of danish and stuffing it in your mouth. “But let’s get started on this.”

You tap the book, frowning when you suddenly realize you probably should’ve gotten two copies.

“I guess, let’s just take turns reading it?” Sam says, seeming to have the same thought as you. “We can just run through it real quick. I remember the story vaguely, but I definitely need a refresher.”

“That works,” you nod.

Coming from two literacy majors, you both can get through a book in just a few hours, so this one should be a breeze.

“Then I’ll start,” Sam offers, taking the fragile book in his hand and flipping to the first page

He clears his throat, furrowing his brow and placing a hand regally to his chest.

“Chapter One; It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

He speaks in an awful attempt at a posh English accent, and it makes you laugh. You quickly redact your regret of not getting two copies; instead of having your face buried in the text as you follow along, you’re able to watch Sam as he acts out the words. He has the book extended to his left, his free hand making dramatic gestures as he reads just loud enough to not disrupt any of the other café patrons.

Since the chapters are rather short, you decide to switch off after every two. You’re surprisingly nervous once you reach the third, wanting to keep the same theatrical energy as Sam.

“The girls grieved along over such a number of ladies,” you read along, entering the scene of the Bennett sisters meeting Mr. Bingley and company. “But were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve, he had brought only six with him from London, his five sisters and a cousin.”

You try to mimic the same accent Sam was using, but it eventually falls apart after an attempt to stifle a laugh from hearing him snort with amusement.

“And when the party entered the assembly room, it consisted of only five altogether, Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.”

You swoon at the first mention of Mr. Darcy, smiling through your words as you continue the scene of recounts about his pompous ego, and how the Bennett family dismisses him and his arrogance. Your heart flutters at what’s to come of their relationship.

The two of you spend the next few hours going back and forth, jotting down significant parts that can be used in your report. You’re about twenty chapters deep, right at the part where Elizabeth denies marriage to Mr. Collins, the unimpressive clergyman and distant cousin to Darcy.

“I think this is a good place to stop,” you say, slapping the book shut.

Your head feels a bit hazy after concentrating so hard for so long, and you look out the window to see the sun beginning to set over the snow-dusted buildings across the street.

“Wanna meet here tomorrow to continue?” Sam asks, starting to gather your empty cups and wrappers. “You know, once I get my car back.”

“Yeah sure, and I think I have a copy of this somewhere at home,” you answer as you slide the copy over to him, thinking back to the collector's series of classics your parents gave you for Christmas one year. “It’s definitely being used as decoration on one of my shelves somewhere. So here, you take this one.”

Sam happily accepts the book, sliding into the front pocket of his book bag.

You’re pondering his idea of coming back to the café tomorrow to finish reading as you’re both putting the rest of your stuff away. You glance around at the people lingering in the café, the crowd much more sparse as closing time nears.

“Actually, how about my place tomorrow?” you ask as you’re both heading back to your car outside. “My analytics class gets out at four, you can come over after? We can get a pizza?”

Your heart picks up pace, suddenly nervous that what you’re asking sounds like you’re insinuating something that oversteps your boundaries as friends, even though the invitation is nothing new.

Sam smiles at you from across the hood of the car, gently pulling the passenger door open once you unlock it.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

It’s the next day, and you’ve just spent the three hours aggressively cleaning your apartment in anticipation for Sam coming over. You’re not sure why you feel the need to clean, he’s been over multiple times before when you’ve had your laundry strewn over the couch, and dishes in the sink, but something compelled you to today. It started by just sweeping the floor, but led to you wiping the counters, vacuuming the rugs, and replacing every air freshener and candle around your place. The space now smelt like the perfectly sweet mix of brown sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon.

You fall to the couch, sighing loudly as you wipe your brow from the labor you just endured, when you hear a knock at the door.

You freeze.

He’s here already? You reach for your phone on the coffee table, freeze at the sight of your clock — 6:15. You had agreed to meet at 6.

“Fuck,” you curse to yourself as you scroll through series of messages and missed calls from him that you had not heard as you were cleaning.

Sam

5:30: Hey, I just got my car back from Josh. I can go ahead and get the pizza. I’ll be over by 6 :)

5:45: Just picked it up! Otw now

5:55: Here

6:05: Hello??

You feel a rush of panic, looking down at your tattered sweatpants and t-shirt. This isn’t a formal occasion by any means, but you are nowhere near presentable to anyone’s standards.

“Just a second!” you call out over your shoulder.

You feel terrible for making Sam wait any longer, but you scramble off the couch and sprint to your room.

You yank off your sweats and reach for the first pair of jeans you can find, hopping into them frantically. You rip off the t-shirt and leave the tank top you have on underneath, pulling a cardigan over your bare arms before racing over to your vanity for a spritz of perfume. You catch a glimpse of your tangled mess of hair, and decide to rake your brush through it a few times before pulling it into a bun.

“Whatever,” you huff with an annoyed click of your tongue, satisfied enough with your improvement in appearance.

You pick off bits of lint and dust from your top as you shuffle over to your door, unlocking it and pulling it open to reveal Sam.

“Oh good, you’re alive,” Sam laughs, his hands gripping either side of a large pizza box. “You weren’t answering your texts, I was getting worried. I was waiting out there for like ten minutes before one of your neighbors let me in the building, said he recognized me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe, your face heating with embarrassment as you gesture at him to come inside. “I was just doing some tidying up, and lost track of time, and I guess my phone was on silent. Thank you for getting the pizza, I totally would have ordered it before if-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he politely interrupts with a dismissing wave, his tone cool and collected following your slew of excuses.

Your blush deepens as you follow him into the kitchen, watching as he peels off his jacket and sets the pizza box down on the counter.

You notice he’s wearing a cozy, white sweater that you had to borrow once, after spilling a glass of cabernet all over your sweater during an outing with him and his brothers last winter. He insisted on letting you change into it because, in his words, the giant splotch of red “made it look like you had been stabbed to death”. He had not brought a jacket though, and spent the rest of the night in just the t-shirt he had on underneath it, which included the 20 minute walk back to his place in the freezing cold. He ended up catching pneumonia the next day, and was bedridden for a week, with you routinely bringing him soup and catching him up with what he missed in class.

You reminisce on the sweet memory, until you notice him turn around to face you.

“Hungry?” Sam asks, and you realize he’s repeated himself, the pizza box flipped open.

“Oh yeah,” you finally say, stepping to look at the glorious sight of it over his shoulder, your mouth watering.

With the rumbling of your stomach, you realize you had accidentally skipped lunch in lieu of your cleaning frenzy. You reach above you to grab two plates from the cabinet, handing one to Sam.

“Starving, actually.”

The both of you split off your respective slices onto the plates and take a seat on the couch in your living room. You turn on your TV and keep it on whatever channel you had left it on, using it as background noise more than anything.

“So, how did getting your car back go?” you ask before taking the first bite from the tip of your slice.

“Oh, god,” Sam rolls his eyes, his mouth already full.

“Josh tried to convince me to let him borrow it until the weekend, but there is no fuckin’ way.”

He shakes his head with the last words, the oil from the pizza making his lips glisten. You can’t help but stare a bit as he wipes them with a napkin, but you quickly bring yourself back to the conversation before he notices.

“Aw,” you finally say, forcing a frown. “I feel bad.”

“Please, don’t,” he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. “He’ll survive. Plus, I think our parents are gonna let him have their Oldsmobile, though I didn’t think that clunky thing could even run anymore.”

He gives an amused cackle after that, taking another bite.

“Well, that’s good,” you giggle, your fingers squeezing into the napkin that you have balled in your fist.

Your throat is getting dry from both the pizza and your nerves, and you realize you haven’t gotten anything to wash it down.

“Oh, fuck,” you blurt, hopping off the couch and shuffling back into the kitchen. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah, whatcha got?” Sam asks over his shoulder.

You pull open the door to your fridge, scanning your mostly barren shelves for what you have.

“Water, Sprite, lemonade…” you start listing off.

You swing open the freezer to make sure you have ice, when your eyes catch sight of a frosted blue bottle on the door.

“…Vodka?”

“Vodka!” Sam exclaims, without hesitation.

You’re usually not much of a liquor drinker, but one of your friends had left the bottle as a pregame for a night out the other week, and they told you to keep it when you tried to give it back. There’s only about a third of it left, and you’ve been meaning to polish it off, but you didn’t really consider tonight to be appropriate for that. Knowing Sam though, you’re foolish to think he would ever turn down the offer.

“Okay, but let’s not get too crazy,” you laugh, grabbing two glasses and popping the lid of the chilled bottle. “We have work to do.”

“It’ll just let us get more into character,” Sam argues, his head peering over the couch to watch you make the drinks.

“I guess you're right,” you answer, thinking back to how much you enjoyed acting the story out yesterday.

You decide to pour a bit of lemonade over the vodka, mixing the drinks with a cocktail spoon and carrying them over to the living room.

“Cheers,” you toast, handing Sam his glass as you settle back on your spot next to him.

“Cheers,” Sam answers in his terrible posh accent, clinking his glass to yours. “To romanticism.”

Of course, one drink turned into two, and two to three, and pretty soon you’re feeling the effects of the liquor. You feel yourself getting more giggly by the second, your heavy head laid against the back of the couch as you watch Sam read. He had picked up the book by his second drink, just after you ensued another reminder about the work you two had to get done.

You had agreed to stop your separate reading last night right at your favorite part in the book, where Darcy confesses his undeniable love for Elizabeth. You could go grab your copy from your room to follow along, but you’re too comfortable to bother getting up. Plus, the drinks definitely are contributing to his grand performance.

He has the book cradled in his left hand, his head bowed and lashes fluttering down at the pages. He’s given up on his accent at this point, seeming much more intrigued by the story than he was prior. You watch intently as his eyes scan over each line, lips carefully articulating each word despite his slight drunkenness. His brow raises occasionally for emphasis, the hand that’s gripping his dwindling glass of liquor moving aimlessly with the eb and flow of each sentence.

“Elizabeth could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his cousin was to go with him,” he reads with a rhythmic cadence in his voice. “But Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him.”

He tips the glass to his lips for a sip after he finishes the sentence, and being how excited you are, you take it as a chance to continue the scene yourself. You grab the book from his hand, quickly finding where he left off.

“While settling this point,” you read, your labored breathing discernible, due to either your nerves or the alcohol.

You see Sam sit back into the couch from your peripherals, his fingers lacing together in his lap as he listens.

“She was suddenly roused by the sound of the door-bell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of it being the Colonel himself, who had once before called late in the evening, and might inquire particularly after her.”

You pull one of your knees to your chest and rest your chin on it, playing with the frayed trim of your jeans as you anxiously approach the climax of the story.

“But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips as you deliver the momentous line. You give Sam a quick glance just to make sure he’s just as into it as you are, but when you meet eyes, you realize he’s admiring more than just the words that you read. You have to pause for a moment to take in his expression.

He’s giving that look again, except the feeling it gives you now is nearly overwhelming. His eyes look like they’ve filled with a million stars, the whites as wide and bright as ever, especially against the frame of his dark lashes. He studies your flustered face, his supple lips curving in the slightest smile as he gives you a nod to continue. You struggle to break his gaze, but you eventually clear your throat and find where you stopped, your fuzzy mind making it a bit difficult this time.

“In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked about the room.”

You feel Sam shift his weight on the couch, but you now have the book purposely blocking his face so he doesn’t further distract you.

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in and agitated manner, and thus began—“

Before you can continue, you feel Sam’s hand grasp over yours that’s gripping the book, your knuckles white around its fragile edges with your sudden flux of emotions. You jump slightly at his touch, and you pull the book down to meet his gaze. You realize he wants you to hand it back to him.

You release it from your grip and he takes it from you gingerly, clearing his throat to continue.

“In vain I have struggled,” he reads, his tone sounding much more profound than the last time he spoke.

You see his jaw clench a bit as he prepares for the next line.

“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

His eyes linger on the page for a moment, before traveling up to meet yours. Time seems to stand still as he continues looking at you with those starry eyes, and your heart feels like it’s in your throat, its beat roaring in your eardrums.

You know he didn’t just simply read the line aloud — there was intention held in the words.

“Sam,” is all you’re able to get out, and you’re not even sure what else to say before his body practically falls into you, cupping the side of your jaw once your lips crash together.

You’re completely stunned by the sudden contact, but it doesn’t take long at all for you to melt into his touch. His lips have the gentle burn of the liquor, and they’re pillow soft against yours. You’ve been craving this, all of your presumptuous thoughts and repressed emotions towards him now flooding to the surface. Your hands begin to wander as the kiss deepens, your fingers running along the knitted ribs of his sweater before meeting the warm skin of his neck. They travel through his long strands of hair as he guides you down to lay down along the couch, his nimble legs straddling yours.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he breathes under your ear, planting soft kisses along your jaw.

You knew those lingering stares he gives you are because he’s felt the same way, but you never knew how to go about being anything more than friends. This turn of events, confessing love through the words of a prolific writer, evidently seems very on brand for the both of you.

“I imagine it’s just as long as I have,” you reply, turning his face so you can kiss his lips again.

Sam’s smiles at your answer, before his lips begin to trail down your neck as you peel off the cardigan you so hastily put on earlier. His fingertips begin lingering at the edge of your tank top, his eyes flicking up to you with hesitance.

“It’s okay,” you beam at him, nodding your approval. “Take off my clothes, Sam.”

He breathes a shallow laugh.

“You don’t have to ask me twice, princess,” he smiles, the pet name making your skin prickle with excitement.

He swiftly yanks up the tank top, and you lift up your arms to pull it off completely, tossing it to the floor below you. His eyes dazzle at your exposed chest, his lips finding your collarbone once you’ve laid back down.

“You’re so beautiful,” he swoons as he begins traveling down to between your breasts.

One of his hands reaches over to gently knead one, his mouth finding your nipple, sucking at its peak as your eyelids flutter at the pleasurable sensation. Your fingertips grip at the nape of his sweater to urge him to sit up and slip it off, yearning to feel his bare skin against yours. His lips lock yours again once it’s discarded, your hands now exploring the new territory of his chest and back.

He pays regards to your opposite breast, before he slides his body further down your frame.

“Is this okay?” he asks as he grips the waist of your jeans.

“Absolutely,” you breathe, your fingers already working to unbutton and unzip them.

You shimmy out of them once they’re loose enough, lifting yourself off the couch a bit to pull them down past your ass. Sam helps you the rest of the way, tossing them onto the floor with the rest once they’re completely off.

He lays down further, with his stomach against the couch cushion so that he’s able to lace his arms around your thighs, his head hovering between them.

You’d be lying if you say you didn’t purposely choose one of your favorite lacy pairs of panties today, just in case this exact situation were to happen. You’re grateful that you did, with the way his eyes hungrily look over the lace that hugs your hips.

He places a kiss right above their hem, his chin brushing against the tiny bow tied to its center. Maybe it’s the change of angle, or how every nerve in your body is now on full throttle, but you’ve suddenly become keenly aware of the patches of stubble that cover his chin and above his lip, the hairs prickling gently at your sensitive skin as his lips move along the thin waistband. You shiver with pleasure, tilting your head back and shutting your eyes to revel in his touch.

Sam takes his time to move his fingertips along the expanse of your tummy and hips, before he laces his fingers around the sides of the panties. He pulls them down painfully slow, the cool air hitting your freshly shaven skin.

You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t shave your entire body the night before—not that you think Sam would mind the hair, but you did it for your own gratification.

You feel Sam’s breath hitting your abdomen as he continues to pull at the lace, and you dare to glance down at him, only to find him already staring up at you. His irises dark with lust, and he keeps eye contact as he places a kiss right on your smooth skin, a moan involuntary escaping your lips at the feeling of his scruff rub against it.

He has the gall to chuckle at your display of pleasure, and it causes your cheeks to heat with frustration.

“Stop teasing me,” you beg, running a hand from the crown of his head, through the strands of his thick hair. “You know what I want.”

“Hmm,” he hums, reaching down to unloop the panties from your ankles and letting them drop to the floor. “I don’t think I do. What is it?”

He then rests his chin against where he just kissed, the hairs of his stubble pricking you almost painfully now. You squirm at the feeling, breathing out a desperate laugh, your eyes clamping shut.

“God, who are you?” you whine, blindly reaching to cup his cheek and lift his chin off of you, your fingertips running against the grain of coarse hair. “What happened to my sweet Sammy?”

“I’m still here,” he assures with a kiss to your jutted hip bone. “I just love hearing your voice.”

You consider his words for a moment.

“Oh, do you?” you smile, feeling him move back to where you want him.

With a glimmer of deviance, you glance over at the book that found its way onto the coffee table, face down on the page you left it on.

You reach over and grab it, Sam not noticing as he continues to kiss up and down your slit.

“Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression,” you begin, your voice wavering as you try to separate your concentration from his efforts. “She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent.”

Your lips curving in a smirk when you feel Sam stop what he’s doing, and you move the book to look down at his beaming face.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he breathes, clearly proud of you for coming up with such an idea.

He quickly bends back down to continue lapping at you, and you try your best to focus back on the book.

“Then he considered sufficient encouragement;” you continue, your breath enveloping each word as his mouth works fervidly against you. “And the avowal of all he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed.”

You only get through a few more lines before his tongue flicks directly onto the bud of your clit, and you suck in a sharp breath. Your voice staggers more and more with each sentence, your fingers shaking as it flips the page.

“In spite of her deeply rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man’s affection–mmm, Sam,” your concentration lapses with a moan when he hits your sweet spot again.

You feel his lips vibrate in a laugh before he lifts himself from you.

“What was that?” he quips with a devious inflection that you’ve never heard from him.

But then again, there’s a lot of firsts happening tonight.

You pull the book away from you once more, just to see him smirking up at you, his swollen lips slick with your wetness.

“Am I a character in this book?”

You blush, running your fingers back through the top of his hair.

“Shut up,” you jest, gently pressing his head back down.

He obeys, but not without a cocky brow raise, his lips reuniting with your heated skin.

You barely make it through the end of the next page before you’re completely tripping over your words, the sentences not making any sense with the amount of whimpers and moans that escape between each syllable.

You finally slap the book closed and toss it over the side of the couch when you feel one of Sam’s slender fingers sink into the depths of your core. He slowly pumps it in and out of you, your moans, mixed with the lewd sounds of his workings, filling the room around you as you feel your core begin to tighten.

He manages to work in another digit after a moment, and your nails reach to dig into the flexed muscles of his shoulders as their rhythm quickly syncs with the pace of his tongue.

“I’m gonna,” you pant, vivid colors painting behind your eyelids.

You can’t even finish your sentence, your body shuddering with the first surge of pleasure.

“Mhmm,” he hums against you, the vibrations sending you further over the edge. “Come for me.”

Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head, every muscle in your body lurches with waves of pleasure that course through you. Wisps of light bloom your vision for a moment, until you’re gasping for air with your come down, your body soothing into a blissful trance once your energy levels. You realize once you come to that you managed to get a painful grip at the root of Sam’s hair, and you unhinge your fingers from the tuft that you were tugging at.

“Sorry,” you breathe, your bare chest heaving as you smooth the strands out.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, placing wet kisses up your body until he’s once again at your lips, and you can taste yourself on his tongue.

You begin to lift yourself up until you’re in a sitting position, and your hands slide down Sam’s torso. Your fingertips twirl around the hairs of his happy trail, and you let them linger down to the bulge that pressed against the fabric. You push into him as you continue to lean forward, guiding him back so he’s now the one laid out along the couch.

“My turn,” you smirk as you hover over him, planting a kiss along the curve of his neck. You smell his cologne lingering on his skin as you run the kisses down his chest and stomach, right down to where your fingers were playing before.

You help him zip his fly down, and he does the same shimmy you did, the jeans slipping with ease from his slim waist. He kicks off the legs and is left with only his briefs, the outline of his member stretching the cotton it’s strained against. You bend down and kiss him through the fabric, before gripping the stretchy waistband and gently pulling it down. His hard cock springs out, slapping lightly against his abdomen. You eye him zealously, your fingers wrapping gently around his shaft to tip it towards you. Your mouth is already salivating, and you lean forward to let a bead of spit drip from your open mouth.

You flick your eyes up to him, and you're delighted to see that he’s watching you, his mouth agape. You smile at him as your hand begins traveling up and down, slicking him in your saliva. You finally press your lips to his head, your tongue slipping out from your lips and swirling around the tip. Your hands continue to work his shaft as you push him further into your mouth, until you feel him in the back of your throat and you have to brace your hands on his hip bones as you fight your gag reflex. Pulling him back out through hollowed cheeks, you release him from your pursed lips with a lewd pop. You continue the cycle a few more times, your eyes streaming with tears with each plummet. You glance up again and meet the expanse of his neck this time, his head tilted back with the swell of his Adam's apple bobbing as he desperately swallows a moan. His long hair pools around his lean shoulders, beads of sweat glistening on his chest. As soon as you feel him begin to throb inside your mouth, he latches his hand around a section of your hair and swiftly pulls you up from him, the taste of his precum left on your tongue once you release. His hand let go of your hair to grip the back of your neck, guiding you up his body so your legs straddle him, your core against his slickened shaft.

You begin to rock your hips against him as your lips lock once more, the tastes of each other intermingling. You whimper with the sensation, still a bit sensitive from your first come up. His lips latch onto your collarbone as you continue to grind into him, until you feel properly warmed back up.

“Do you want me to put on a condom?” he breathes when your hand reaches down to line him up with your entrance.

“You don’t have to,” you pant, staring to tease yourself with his cock.

You, of course, trust each other to be clean, and you’ve been on birth control since a teenager. If any further anxiety lingers in the next morning, you have some morning after pills stashed in your bathroom cabinet.

“Okay,” he smiles, pulling your lips back to his.

You proceed to ease him in, moaning at how good it feels to finally have him inside of you. You roll yourself up and down his length a few times until you’re acclimated enough to sit down at his base. You continue the motion of grinding yourself against him, feeling him deep inside of you now, your head tipping back with a few escaped moans and whimpers. With your eyes still closed, you feel his fingers snake around your exposed throat and pull you forward. He kisses you deeply, still squeezing at your neck, now having the leverage to gyrate his hips and pull himself in and out of you. Your mouth dips back open when he begins to quicken the pace, and you push yourself fully onto him again, using your folded knees to bounce yourself along his length. You grab at your bouncing breasts, beads of sweat dripping between them and tickling down your stomach. He still has a grip on your neck, his other elbow propped behind him and his abs flexing to hold the position. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, squeezing the tendrils of muscles.

You’re suddenly being pushed backwards after a few more sinful moments, with Sam still inside of you and wrapped around your throat, your position seesawing once more so that you land with your back along the cushion. You don’t know how he even managed such a move, but you don’t have much time to ponder it as he thrusts deeply into you. You hike your legs around his waist, and the new angle lets him hit just the right spot. He lets go of your neck only to nurse his fingers into your mouth, pulling them out once your tongue has lapped around them. He lowers his hand, and you feel the slick pads of his fingers swirl against your throbbing clit. He continues the motion as he thrusts harder into you, the sound of your skin slapping together striking your eardrums. The addition of his fingers has your next climax rapidly building again, and you know he must be getting close when his rhythm begins to unravel.

“Come for me again,” he pleads, the veins in his neck protruding, his cheeks and chest rosy and sheened with sweat.

“I’m gonna,” you cry back, just as the first shudder courses through you.

You can tell he does his best to ride you through it, but he can only last a few more thrusts before he pulls out of you, his fingers leaving your clit to grip at the frame of the couch. You quickly reach down to stroke him, until you feel ribbons of warmth lap onto your stomach, a moan of relief escaping his lips.

You both sit there panting for a moment, his hands planted on either side of you so as to not hinder the mess. His hair hangs down and tickles your cheeks as he hovers over you, and you reach up tuck the stands behind his ears.

“That was incredible,” you breathe, turning over to grab your tank top from the floor.

You use it as a makeshift towel, wiping down your stomach and tossing it back into the floor, making a mental note to do some more laundry in the morning.

“It was,” he agrees, planting a kiss on your forehead before letting himself collapse to the side, between you and the back of the couch. “I can’t believe we just did that.

You giggle, hiking your thigh up to rest it against his abdomen.

“We neither.”

There isn’t a lot of room on the couch to lay comfortably together, so you decide to get up, extending a hand to guide him up as well.

“Come on, you might as well spend the night now.”

He nods his agreement with a sweet smile, and you lace your fingers together and take the lead down the hall, opening the door to your freshly cleaned clean room, the smell of sugar cookies wafting in the air with the lit candle you have on your nightstand.

You climb into your freshly made bed with Sam following suit, pulling the covers over the both of you, the fresh fabric feeling heavenly on your smooth skin.

You lean lean and snuff the candle, before crawling deeper into the bed and nestling your face into the cook of Sam’s neck.

“Goodnight, Sammy,” you mumble, the warmth of his body and soft fabric cocooned around you quickly winding you to sleep.

He presses one more kiss on top of your head, his arm cradling you.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

It’s Christmas morning, and your family is gathered around the tree to open presents. You’ve been home for about a week now, climbing the steps of your parents porch a few days after submitting your finals, the last of which being the project you completed with Sam for Dr. Howard.

You were both really proud of how it turned out, and to your delight, you got a notification in your mailbox a day later, informing that you both received an A+.

You got to spend time with Sam before the two of you parted ways for the holidays, and needless to say, you’ve fully established your relationship beyond friends. You spent most of your time lounging in bed with him, watching Christmas movies until you ultimately got distracted with each other to pay any attention.

The night before you left, he took you out to a nice dinner, marking it as the first real outing you had as a couple. You ate and drank to your heart's content, spending the night at his place before he drove you to the airport in the morning.

You had been excited to announce your newfound relationship with Sam to your family, with your mother specifically always raving about how sweet and handsome he is. They’re thrilled for the two of you, and hope they can meet the rest of the Kiszka family sometime soon.

You love the gifts you receive from your family, your favorites being a new set of moleskine notebooks and fountain pens from your parents, that you'll be sure to use up next semester, and a gorgeous amethyst necklace from your sister.

Your dad is commencing his duty as the trash man once everything has been unwrapped, stuffing the leftover wrapping paper into a big trash bag as you excuse yourself to the kitchen.

You make yourself a cup of tea, enjoying how the waves of amber seep into the water as you dunk the bag into your favorite mug. You sip if gently as you pad over to the window in your entryway, and to your delight, you see tiny flakes of snow beginning to dust your front yard. It’s always a toss up on whether or not it’ll be a white Christmas, or if the most snow you’ll get is the patches left from a past storm, so you’re elated to see the former be the outcome for this year.

You’re about to turn to inform your family of the exciting news, when a flash of silver catches your attention from the floor of your porch. You look down to find that it’s a tinsel bow, set atop a package wrapped in red paper.

Your brows furrow with curiosity as you push the front door open, assuming it’s a package for your parents from one of your neighbors. Your eyes widen when you see your name on a tag looped with the bow, etched in a familiar handwriting.

You start tearing into the wrapping as you step back inside, the cool air already nipping at your bare arms and feet.

You gasp when you see the familiar crimson spine and silver letters.

“No way,” you breathe, remembering how secretly upset you were when you put the book back in its box after submitting your project last week, assuming the department wanted to keep such a delicate copy.

You flip through the pages, reminiscing on your newfound love for the story that you once thought you disdained, when a folded piece of paper falls from the bind and flutters to the floor.

You bend down to pick it up, reading the words that are scribbled along the lines in the same endearing handwriting.

I had to beg Howard to let me keep this, and he only let me after I said it was a gift for his most favorite student. I figured you’d like to have it, considering all it’s done for us. Plus, it really is a great story.

What can I say? Austen’s a genius.

Merry Christmas, I ardently love and admire you. - Sam ♡

#hope you liked it liv!!! :-)#ily #sammy #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fanfic #gvf #gvf fic #greta van fanfic #gret van fleet fic #greta van fleet #writing #mine

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sacredjake · 7 months

Text

Teach Me- Part Three

pairing: Professor!Sam x 21+ College Student Reader

word count: 7.8K

warnings: 18+MDNI! cussing, fluff, small angst, drug use (weed), oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, nicknames, soft sammy. let me know if i missed anything!

part 3 is finally here! i apologize for the long wait, i hope this made up for it. huge thank you as always to @malany-gvf for letting me talk through my ideas with her. and a thank you to @gold-mines-melting & @ageofhearingloss for helping as well <3 love y’all! linked below is a song that inspired bits of this, and a visual of sammy :) enjoy and thank you so much for reading and waiting!!

Stars On The Ceiling

sammy visual

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The leaves outside had turned from lively green to vibrant shades of reds, oranges and yellows signifying that fall was here, and a month had passed since that day in Professor Buckley’s office with Sam. Since then things had only progressed. The… relationship between the two of you developed more into just that. A relationship.

Nothing was made official per se, but the foundation of your connection wasn’t based on just sex. Sure the sex was good. Like really, really good, but that wasn’t what kept the you tethered to one another.

Everything about the two of you just made sense. You shared almost all the same interests which lead into constant conversations about practically anything. With Sam it was just so easy. The flow was natural as if you were meant to be with one another in some way.

Sam was kind, funny, extremely smart, spontaneous and incredibly sweet. He was also just an overall goofball and sometimes a smartass, but you admired every part of him you’d come to know on a personal level. He never failed to make you feel anything less than special, and made sure to constantly tell you in case his gestures didn’t already show it.

While you avoided going out together in public, he would still take you on dates to a neighboring town. Neither of you were willing to risk getting caught by anyone who didn’t already know, which was a short list of just Macie, and Sam’s best friend Danny. You had met Danny several times as he and Sam are roommates, and you got along great with him. He was kind and funny, and practically perfect for Macie, who was dying to meet him.

Which is where you were headed right now.

When you had told Sam that Macie wanted to meet Danny he came up with the idea for the four of you to head over to an arcade in the next town over as a group. Sure it was more of a set up for your two best friends, but they didn’t really need to know that. You each had just told them that since they were the only two people who knew, that it would be nice to hang out with friends together. Both of them agreed to go almost immediately.

“Will you please stop that, you’re stressing me out.” Your eyes were trained on the road as you drove, but you could see Macie squirming in her seat every few seconds. It was driving you up a wall.

“I can’t help it, y/n! I’m nervous!” Macie exclaimed with a huff, wringing her hands in her lap. You let out a breathy laugh and set your hand on top of hers to stop the movement.

“It’s just Sam, Mace.”

You knew that Sam was not, in fact, why she was so nervous, but you were hoping maybe it would make her laugh. And it did, kinda. It was more of an annoyed laugh than a genuine one.

“He is not who I am nervous about! I’m nervous about meeting Danny!” With the movement of her hands ceased, her leg began bouncing up and down violently against her seat.

“Danny is not in any way intimidating, okay? Just calm down, you will get along just fine.” You tried to give her your best reassuring smile, but the jerky action of her leg made you falter. “And for the love of god stop bouncing your leg!”

Her knee froze and settled down on the seat with a muttered “Sorry”, unaware of the subconscious action.

When you pulled into the parking lot of the arcade you were able to spot Danny’s car quickly along with a spot in front of him. This was definitely an intentional move on your part. You knew the guys would be waiting in the car for you and Macie to arrive, so by parking in front of Danny you were able to get Macie’s immediate reaction.

“Oh. My. God…” She did fairly well at making herself look busy so that she wouldn’t be caught gawking at Danny through the windshield.

“You didn’t tell me he was a fucking greek god!” Macie exasperated in a hushed tone like she was afraid they would hear.

“Are you going to keep pretending to look for something in your purse, or are you going to get out of the car?”

You didn’t leave her the option to reply as you opened your door and stepped out of the car to greet Sam and Danny. Danny looked like the usual Danny you saw at their apartment. He was wearing a backwards cap over his gorgeous curls, a loose t-shirt, black skinny jeans and white vans. Very Danny, which was cute. Sam’s outfit was also very Sam, and was easily one of your favorites. He was wearing an oversized white button-up with pops of color on the shoulders, and a pair of fitted gray trousers. His hair was down and wavy, looking absolutely flawless as always.

“Hey toots! About time you two showed up.” Sam beamed at you, grasping your hand pulling you in for a quick kiss. When you pulled away you pushed his shoulder lightly and laughed before greeting Danny and introducing Macie.

“While you two have technically already met,” You gestured between Macie and Sam, “You’ve never met in person, so… Sam, Danny, this is Macie. Macie, this is Sam and Danny.”

“Nice to know you’re more than just a floating head!” Sam smiled brightly as he shook Macie’s hand, his comment earning a laugh from your best friend. Danny just shook his head at Sam, way too accustomed to his antics.

“Ignore Sam, he’s an idiot.” Danny muttered to Macie, his voice still loud enough for you and Sam to hear. They shook hands as she laughed, smiles stretching both of their faces.

“Hey, I happen to be working on my Master's degree right now!” Sam scoff feigning offense, a hand over his chest.

“Come on you two,” You rolled your eyes playfully and started pulling Sam towards the entrance of the building, “We have games to play and I can’t kick all of your asses if we stand out here and listen to y’all argue over whether or not Sam is an idiot.”

“Whether or not I’m not an id- Wait, did you just say you were gonna kick our asses?” You looked back at Sam briefly, shooting him a cheeky smile and humming an ‘mhm’.

“Oh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, honey, but I am quite the champ at laser tag. No way you’re kicking my ass.”

There was an unintelligible whisper from Danny behind you followed by Macie’s giggles that led you to believe he had made fun of Sam in some way. You both chose to ignore whatever he had said and continued to walk into the building.

The first thing everyone decided to do as a group was play a game of bowling. It was a nice way to talk and still play some sort of game, the conversations between Macie and Danny flowing easily as you suspected. You got to learn more about what Sam was like growing up, and they were told all about your college escapades.

Not shocking to you, but shocking to the guys, Macie beat everyone at bowling. It was a little secret you kept to yourself that she was oddly good at the game. Danny seemed quite impressed whereas Sam vowed to take her down in laser tag later in true Sam fashion.

“I’m pretty hungry, is anyone else ready to eat?” Macie dropped her ball off at the return rack, the rest of your group in tow.

“I could go for some food right now.” Danny agreed.

“I’m okay right now, might check out some of the arcade games.” You lied as you placed your ball on the rack. While you were definitely hungry, this was a great opportunity for Macie and Danny to get to know each other.

Sam opened his mouth to respond and you shot him a warning look, trying to telepathically tell him about your plan. You knew he was probably going to say that he could eat. When he caught your eyes he stopped talking and gave you a weird look before realizing what you were doing.

“Yeah I’m with y/n, I can wait a bit. You two go ahead and we’ll meet up later for laser tag?”

The four of you went your separate ways. Danny and Macie to the bar for some lunch, and You and Sam to the arcade portion to play a few games. Together you picked a few two-player games, each of you winning one here and there. Even when you played a game meant for only one person, the other would play after keeping up the friendly competition. Eventually you both decided you’d play a round of skee-ball and then grab a bite to eat.

“You’re pretty sneaky.” Sam nodded his head over to the bar area before throwing his ball up the ramp. Following his gesture your eyes landed on both of your best friends chatting away as if they had always known each other.

“I just knew they would hit it off,” You admired them a few seconds longer before returning your attention to your own game, “They look cute together anyways. I hope it works out.”

Sam hummed in approval, taking his last shot and landing the ball in one of the one hundred slots. The machine lit up wildly with lights, and bells rang making it known to everyone that he had scored a hundred points. He grabbed the tickets that spewed out of the game and walked over to watch your last throw.

“Think they know this was kind of a set up?”

“Maybe, but I don’t really think they care all that much. They seem to be enjoying each other’s company.” You threw the last ball and watched as it sank into the fifty point slot. Sam snagged the tickets that had dispensed and handed them to you.

“Should we go pick out a prize, babe?” He waved the absurd amount of tickets in his fist around, wiggling his eyebrows. You nodded your head with a smile and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his as you walked towards the prize room.

----------------------------------

“What is that?” Danny eyed the box tucked underneath Sam’s arm as the two of you approached the laser tag area.

When you finally made your way over to the bar for a bite, Danny and Macie had already left so they didn’t get to see the prizes you had picked out. Macie had texted you letting you know that she and Danny were going to do a quick ax throwing session while you ate and they’d meet up with you at laser tag after.

“It’s my prize!” He held the rectangular box out so they could get a better view of it, excitement written all over his face.

“A lava lamp? That’s pretty sick.”

“Hell yeah it is! Cost me all my tickets.” He beamed, looking over the box again like a child on Christmas morning. His reaction when he first saw the item was absolutely adorable and you urged him to get it. It was a pretty cool lamp too. The base of it was black with silver stars littered about, the ‘lava’ inside was a neon, lime green color and the light inside was blue.

“What did you get y/n?”

“I didn’t really see anything I liked, so I helped Sam get the lamp.”

It was partially a lie. You had seen something small that you wanted, but Sam’s reaction to the lava lamp convinced you to do whatever it took to get it for him. Even if that meant you spent your tickets on him. Seeing his joy was worth more to you than the silly item you saw.

The four of you continued to talk until the game before yours ended. Macie and Danny recounted their ax throwing experience, noting that Danny was a natural while Mace struggled a bit. To which of course Macie said that she was just going easy on him because she had already beat him at bowling and felt bad.

Finally your group was called to start your game. You entered a prep room, vests and laser guns lining the walls. The room was mostly dark, the only light illuminating it coming from black lights that reflected neon paintings on walls. Each of you stood by a vest and listened as the worker went over the rules and basis of the game. Once he was done explaining everything, he instructed everyone to put on a vest before opening the door to let you inside.

The goal was simple, you were split into two teams. You and Sam against Macie and Danny. The objective was to hit the opposite players as many times as possible with the laser from your gun. Hits to the shoulder sensors were worth ten points, the back and chest were worth twenty-five.

Each team would also have a base in which they should be guarding. Hitting the base from far away was worth fifty points and hitting the base from underneath was worth a hundred. While this particular set up was meant for larger parties, the four of you decided it would still be fun.

As soon as you entered the main room Sam pulled you through the maze of walls and objects towards your base. The clock had already started and there was no time to waste.

“Alright so here’s what I think our plan should be. I know Daniel is gonna stay and guard the base, so I think you should stay here while I go down.” From the top of the base you could see the entire playing floor, including the other team’s base. The black lights illuminated neon barriers and walls throughout the course along with more artwork.

“Are you sure? You’re wearing a bright white shirt and I’m wearing black. You’ll be an easy target for either one of them. They won’t see me coming.”

The sides of his mouth twitched up as he thought about it, amusement spread across his face. He grabbed your face in his hands and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

“You’re so smart, did you know that?” He dropped his hands from your face and turned you around to the stairs leading into the main floor. “Now go get us that win, I’ll cover you from up here as best as I can.” His hand connected with your ass cheek, sending you on your way, but not before you threw a playful glare over your shoulder at him.

You jogged down the stairs making sure your steps were soft in case Mace or Danny were nearby. Staying close to walls and under the bases, you made your way over to the other base. You figured if you couldn’t see the other base, they couldn’t see you from the aerial view.

Out of the corner of your eye there was a flashing light that streaked by, signaling that someone was close. You pressed yourself into the corner of the wall and waited to see if whoever it was would come closer. Within a few seconds, Macie walked by. She was walking away from you, her back exposed and not noticing you were there. You took the opportunity to shoot her back plate several times before running to safety in another tucked away spot.

From this spot you had a clear shot of their base. While it wouldn’t earn you the maximum amount of points, the shots would earn fifty each time. Until you were found or could get closer, this was a great option. You were also hoping that maybe it would draw Danny out since you were so close.

You started firing round after round after round at the giant sensor on the roof of the base. Each round made the object light up with red alarm lights and an automated voice signaling that the base was under attack. You kept shooting at the base until you felt your vest vibrate repeatedly. Danny had finally left his spot and found you, shooting at your chest as quickly as possible.

Not wanting to risk him racking up more points, you ran by him and back towards your base, a new plan formed in your head.

“Alright so when you see Danny leave the base, you need to run over and shoot it from underneath. I’ll take the hits from him, but if we both shoot the base then we'd be able to outweigh whatever he scores off me.” You were out of breath from running back to your base, chest heaving and slightly bent over.

“That sounds like a great plan. We only have like ten minutes left of game time, I think we should wait a little while.”

“Agreed. Once Macie sees you’ve left the base she’ll come running over here. We can’t give her a lot of time.”

“Start with five minutes left?” You nodded in agreement and straightened back up placing your hands on the back of your head.

“Are you gonna come stay at my place tonight? We could put on a movie, order some pizza and relax? Maybe smoke a little if you wanted?” Sam asked as you caught your breath.

“Yeah, that sounds nice. We can use your new lava lamp too.” His face lit up at your response, smiling fondly at you.

“I got something else the other day that I think you might enjoy, but you’ll have to wait to see what it is until later.”

“Ooo so mysterious.” You grinned back at him, wondering what he could’ve possibly bought.

The next few minutes passed with the two of you trying to decide on a movie to watch for tonight while keeping an eye on Danny and Macie. With five minutes left in the game it was time to move.

You followed the same path as before, tucking yourself back into the previous corner. And as before you started shooting their base as quickly as the trigger would allow. It didn’t take very much time at all for Danny to find you, however, by the time he had reached you, Sam had made it underneath their base. The look on Danny’s face was absolutely priceless, realization and shock setting in.

“Son of a bitch!” He shouted quickly, turning back where he came from to attack Sam. You followed behind him, laser aimed at his back the entire way and lighting him up with each hit.

By the time he got back to the base and Sam, it was too late. Twenty seconds remained on the clock and Sam had already scored well over a thousand points. There was no catching up.

“Oh c’mon Daniel, you have to hand it to us, it was pretty clever. Don’t be such a sore loser.”

“I am not a sore loser.” Danny rolled his eyes at his best friend with a grumble, arms crossed over his chest. You were all standing out by your cars just talking shortly before heading your separate ways.

“Whatever you say, Danny,” You teased, “To be fair, I did warn everyone that I was gonna kick their asses.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Both Danny and Macie waved you off as you walked by them to open your car. Sam was following behind you to say goodbye, and give Danny a moment with Mace.

“Alright so I’ll see you around 6?” Sam was leaned in close to you, arms resting on the top of the open car door between you.

“Yeah, I think that’ll work.”

“Perfect. Let me know when you make it home and are on your way over? I’ll order the pizza when you’re headed my way.”

“I will, and you do the same please.” He simply nodded in response before leaning in to kiss you and say goodbye.

You got in your car and shut the door with Macie following not too far behind. There was nothing but silence while you navigated the beginning of your journey home. Although you definitely noticed the small grin plastered on your best friend’s face.

“Did you have fun? You and Danny hit it off pretty well?”

“Uh… Yeah,” Her cheeks pinked more and more by the second, “I had a good time. He, uh, asked for my phone number so we could hang out just the two of us.”

“Oh hell yeah! See I knew you two would get along so well!”

“Yeah, Yeah.” She rolled her eyes playfully at you, still smiling. “Thank you, though for introducing us. He’s really sweet and funny, and definitely super hot… I just hope he’ll actually text me.”

“Mace, he’ll text you. Danny isn’t the type of guy to lead someone on.”

“I didn’t get that vibe either, which is nice, but we’ll just have to see.” You nodded your head showing that you understood what she was saying while keeping your eyes on the road.

The rest of the car ride home was filled with talk about upcoming school assignments and plans the two of you had together with your other roommates. The four of you hadn’t hung out in a few weeks partially due to school work, but also because you were spending a lot of time at Sam’s. Macie had been covering for you and keeping Sam’s identity a secret for now.

Chloe and Sadie knew that you were seeing someone, but you wouldn’t tell them who. Not that you didn’t trust them of course, but the less people who knew, the better. It kind of sucked because you wanted to do nothing but gush about Sam to your friends constantly, but you weren’t willing to risk anything.

Eventually you made it home, running inside long enough to change, pack a small overnight bag, grab your backpack and freshen up before you walked back out the door. While you had spent the whole day with Sam, you were eager to see him again so soon. You were especially ready to relax and hang out with just him.

The air was chilly, wind sweeping through your hair and cutting through the thin material of your cardigan that you wrapped tightly at your sides. You walked quickly through the small parking lot to his apartment, trying to lessen your time outside. Sam met you at the door, already having it open since you texted him that you were there.

“You look a little chilly there, Bug.” Sam called out leaning up against his doorframe. He was wearing a red crewneck and a pair of black sweats with a blanket draped over his shoulders, and no shoes but fun tie-dye socks adorning his feet.

“Me? Chilly?” You chirped between chattering teeth, “Never. Not at all.” You laughed slightly, your body shaking even more due to the shivering.

“C’mon let’s get you inside. I have pizza waiting anyways.” As you walked through the threshold he pulled the blanket from his body and wrapped it around yours instead. With the door shut behind you, his hands returned to the tops of your arms rubbing up and down and placed a light kiss on your cheek.

“Go ahead and get comfy, I'll bring in the pizza and drinks.” He said, ushering you towards his bedroom. You followed his instructions and made your way to his room through the decently sized apartment.

Kicking your shoes off next to his door and dropping your bags next to them, you climbed into his bed noticing the lava lamp from earlier now sitting on his nightstand. It must’ve been on for hours already, probably since he got home, the ‘lava’ flowing to the top and floating back down steadily. The small lamp fit in nicely with his room.

While you waited for Sam to join you, you pulled out your phone to busy yourself for the time being. A text had popped up onto the screen from Sebastian, and you opened the messages app to see the preview of the text first. The text that had come through from your older brother made your heart drop to your stomach, and your stomach drop to your ass, panic flooding your entire body.

Are you at Oakridge? Thought I saw you walk into Sam Kiszka’s place as I was leaving Brandon’s.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You sat there completely frozen staring at the text, wondering what the fuck you were going to say. When Sam walked in with the pizza and drinks your eyes shifted from the screen to his face. Immediately he could tell something was wrong, stopping just at the foot of the bed with the pizza still in hand.

“Everything okay?” He sat the pizza box on the bed before moving to the side and setting down the waters on the nightstand. Your eyes followed his movement, never once leaving him.

“My brother just texted me… He asked if I was here because he thought he saw me walking into your apartment.”

“Oh fuck…” Sam ran a worried hand through his hair before it settled on the back of his neck.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Sam rubbed the back of his neck while he thought up a lie as to why you would be here. Sure you were in his class so maybe you needed help with something outside of class, but that’s still unprofessional. With each passing moment the expression you wore grew more worrisome, your face becoming more pale. He sat on the bed across from you with criss-cross legs and gently took your hands in his.

“Hey it’s gonna be okay, I can tell you’re freaking out, but it’s gonna be okay.” Sam tried to reassure you, his soft brown eyes locked on yours looking more downturned than usual. You looked like you were going to cry, eyes becoming red and shiny nearly breaking his heart.

“Daniel is a tutor. Just tell him that he’s tutoring you in one of your classes because midterms are coming up. He knows that Daniel is my roommate and does tutoring on the side for extra cash. He’ll believe it.” He handed your phone to you before placing his right hand on your cheek. “It’s going to be okay, no need to worry right now.”

You nodded your head silently and unlocked your phone again, the screen still on the messages app. Sam’s hand on your cheek found new purchase on your knee resting lightly and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

Yeah I am. I needed some extra tutoring for one of my classes since midterms are around the corner, and Danny Wagner is my tutor. I had no idea he was Sam’s roommate.

Both of you waited for a moment, watching as Sebastian read the text. The text bubbles at the bottom of the screen danced while he typed his reply.

Oh okay. Should’ve just asked me, I could’ve helped.

A sign of relief exhaled from your lips, your shoulders dropping from the release of tension. His response was normal, something he says every time you tell him about tutoring. You typed a quick reply explaining that he had enough on his plate and you didn’t want to overload him before looking back to Sam.

“He bought it, thank god. I was really freaking out,” A meek smile spread across your lips, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being calm and calming me down. For not getting angry. You have a lot more on the line than I do…” Your voice drifted off into a whisper. The Ex’s in your past would have never handled a situation where they could face serious reprimands so calmly, and certainly would have blamed you. Tears pricked your eyes distorting the vision of Sam gazing down at you softly.

“Oh, sweetheart… C’mere.” He moved to sit up against his headboard, pulling you to sit between his legs once he settled. You leaned into his chest, your back laying flush against him with your head resting in the center of his chest. He pressed play on the TV, the movie both of you had picked earlier coming to life. Sam wrapped his arms around yours and weaved his fingers overtop of your own before crossing both your arms around your waist.

You sat in comfortable silence just watching the silly romcom and let the rise and fall of his chest ease your breathing. His chin sat on top of your head, the scent from your shampoo drifting lazily in the air. Half-way through the movie and between bites of pizza, Sam spoke.

“Any interest in smoking tonight?” He looked at you with raised eyebrows and a light smile on his lips making his eyes crinkle at the corners ever so slightly.

“Yeah, just a little bit though.” Sam smiled wider and sat his pizza in the box so he could move off the bed. He moved around his room towards his closet, turning on the light and walking in. When he re-emerged he was holding a small light green hand-blown glass bong with dark green ivy leaves that ran up the sides of it, his red grinder, and a lighter.

You didn’t indulge in smoking often, but you figured why the hell not, right? Sam also had really good weed. You never had to smoke a lot just to feel the effects, and the strain he smoked never made you feel anxious like others had in the past.

He set the items down on the nightstand and began to prep the bowl, packing the finely ground weed into the bowl using the butt of his lighter. Once the bowl was packed Sam returned the grinder to its spot in the closet. He started the bowl taking a rather large hit before handing it off to you. You sealed your lips on the mouthpiece and held the lighter to the weed for a few seconds. Once satisfied with the amount of smoke you had produced, you pulled the bowl out of the downstem and pulled the air up into your lungs, clearing the chamber. Sam watched as he always did, mesmerized at your ability to inhale all the smoke no matter how much was in it.

“Perfect,” You handed the piece back to him and met his eyes staring at you with adoration, “You are literally perfect.” The smoke from your exhale drifted into the open air through the smile Sam had caused. You could feel heat crawl its way up your neck and onto your cheeks from his praise, no doubt looking rosier than usual.

Sam repeated the steps you had just taken, yet again taking a larger hit. He cleared the chamber and set the bong back on the nightstand before turning back to you, the corner of his lips lightly pulled up. The smoke never left his lungs as he beckoned you towards him with a wave of your hand. You obliged knowing what he wanted you to do.

With your face centimeters from his, Sam’s hand gently held the side of your neck, his long fingers reaching the base of your skull. His thumb stroked your jaw softly as your lips parted slightly. Smoke began to flow smoothly from Sam’s mouth into your own, sucking in the air he released. You held his eye contact for a few moments feeling the soft intimacy of the moment wash over you. Breaking away from his gaze, your eyes fell to his lips that turned up into more of a smirk the longer you looked at them. When you drew your eyes back up to him he was already staring back, the outer corner of his eyes drooping with relaxation the high brought. His top lip curled, turning his smirk into a toothy grin filled with nothing but pure affection.

The hand resting on your neck pulled you closer to him to close the gap, your lips meeting delicately. His mouth moved against yours slowly like he was savoring the feel and taste of your lips. His tongue dragged across your bottom lip with a languid stripe inviting you to open your mouth fully to him.

Needing to be closer to him you climbed into his lap hooking your legs around his waist and looping your arms around his neck, never breaking the kiss. Sam’s arms snaked around your back, his right hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head.

Like smooth velvet, his tongue danced against yours, exploring the space like he had never done so before. Each pass of tongue on yours made you melt further into him. You felt that soon enough you would surely just become a part of him. But maybe that was the weed. The tip of his tongue grazed the roof of your mouth before he pulled away, leaving slow, open mouthed kisses along your jaw.

When he finally came to the corner of your jaw finally dipping down towards your neck, his tongue swept over the skin knowing this was one of your sweet spots. His hand at the back of your head held your exposed neck to him, your head lulling backwards with an airy gasp. Traveling down the column of your neck he continued to leave sweet kisses in his wake. You needed more of him, your hands finding the hem of his crewneck at either side of his hips and pushing the fabric upwards.

Sam only disconnected his lips from your skin briefly to pull the sweatshirt over his head and toss it to the floor. While he rid himself of his shirt, you pulled your cardigan off and threw it off the bed onto the floor. His fingers lifted the bottom of your shirt and you raised your arms to aid him as he pulled it over your head before it too was flung to the ground.

Instead of returning his lips to your throat he kissed your lips, following the same pace as before. Sam pulled you closer, both of your bare chests pressed flush against one another. With his arms around your back he began to lean forward, sending you backwards slowly until your back met the mattress. Your legs were still wrapped loosely around his waist connecting his hardening bulge to your core. The thin material of your leggings allowed every bit of him to feel the growing heat between your legs as he kissed you.

His hips pressed further into yours, driving his erection slowly against your clothed heat drawing soft, low moans from your lips. Your hands threaded into his long chestnut tresses, nails lightly scraping his scalp. His hand ghosted the skin of your side, passing over your ribs like a feather as he made his way up to your breast. With another roll of his hips he took your hardened nipple between his fingers, rolling it with gentle pressure.

You could feel the high of the weed begin to wash over you, and you weren’t entirely sure that you weren’t floating above the bed right now. Every inch of your skin burned and tingled. It was one of the best feelings you had ever experienced.

Sam trailed hot kisses down your body, taking his time along the way. Once low enough, the tips of his fingers slipped under the waistband of your leggings and underwear, dragging them down. He continued to leave kisses on your body, and never stopped to tease, going straight to your dripping core.

With a flat tongue he licked a stripe up your pussy, changing to a point as he passed over your clit. His tongue passed slowly through your folds again repeating the motions from before except when he reached your clit this time he pulled it between his lips, sucking lightly. Your hips bucked upwards involuntarily, hands pressed against his head holding him closer to you. His eyes met yours, his pupils so blown that they overtook the iris making his eyes almost completely black. With his lips still wrapped around your clit, his tongue began massaging the sensitive bundle with his tongue.

“Oh Sam, fuck.” Your chest rose and fell rapidly, the words full of air.

“You taste so sweet, baby,” Sam murmured between smooth laps of his tongue, “Like fresh honey.” He returned his attention back to your clit for a moment, babying it as he did before. “Could stay here with my tongue in this sweet pussy all day.”

Instead of drawing up your core as he had been, he slipped his tongue inside you and let his thumb rub slow, tender circles over your hardened bud. His thumb moved in sync with his tongue, dragging in and out against your walls. Each motion of both pushed you closer and closer to the edge, moans and praises drifting from your parted lips.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” He coaxed you closer to your release with just his thumb and words, “Almost there.” He watched your orgasm begin to take with soft, loving eyes. Every noise he drew from you was like music to his ears, the most beautiful symphony leading to his favorite crescendo.

Your orgasm washed over you slowly with Sam talking you through it, praising you over and over again. He watched in awe simply admiring how beautiful you looked, your skin flushed and glistening, back arched, and head thrown back against the blankets with your mouth hung slightly open.

“God you look so pretty when you cum,” He stopped mid-sentence, his tongue sweeping through your wetness once more to collect the fresh nectar that dripped from your cunt, “Can’t wait to watch you cum again.”

He moved back up your body, slotting his lips into your own. He was careful to keep distance between your sensitive core and his clothed length to avoid overstimulation. You could taste your release on his tongue as it slid over your own, humming and pulling him closer to you.

“Sam please.” You begged, pushing the waistband of his sweats down his hips. His hand cupped the side of your face and lifted it to urge you to look at him.

“Easy now sweetness. I wanna take my time with you tonight,” He placed a kiss to your cheek, “Adore you,” Another one to your other cheek, “Savor you,” The tip of your nose, “Worship you.” Finally placing the last one to your lips.

“C’mon, let’s move you up to the pillows.”

You nodded lazily, completely in a daze at how lucky you had gotten with Sam. He was the first partner you’ve had that did exactly as he said he wanted to do. Praise and worship you in every way you deserve.

He moved off of you allowing you to move up the bed towards the headboard. While you laid against his pillows, he shed himself of his sweats and boxers freeing his hard erection. Your mouth watered as you took in his beauty. Every single part of him was like perfection, handcrafted by Aphrodite herself. God’s greatest creation, you were sure of it.

Sam made his way back over to you, but stopped on his knees at your propped up legs. He placed his hands on either side of your knees and delicately pushed them apart. You watched him take his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth and wet them, eyes glued to his lips as the digits slipped past them. His wet fingers began to draw circles on your clit, the small bundle growing harder with each swipe.

Never stopping the motion of his fingers Sam drew closer to lean over you, the tops of his thighs meeting the backs of yours. With his other hand he guided his length along your slit covering himself with your slick. When he reached the base, he drew back and pushed through your wetness again.

“Already so wet.” He pumped his hand along his pulsating member, spreading your arousal to coat each inch of his velvety skin.

Sam pulled his hand away from your clit and rested it on your cheek peeling your eyes away from his hand pumping up his shaft to look him in the eyes.

“Ready for me?” You nodded in favor of a verbal reply, your brain foggy from your previous orgasm and the weed.

The hand he had pressed to your cheek moved next to your head pressing into the pillow as he braced himself. You wrapped your legs around his lower back bringing you closer to one another as He lined his swollen head up with your entrance and pushed in slowly. His other hand found purchase on your waist while he sheathed himself inch by inch, the slow stretch a delicious burn. As he disappeared inside you he watched loving the way your walls sucked him in.

When he was fully seated inside his head dropped back, a shaky, “Oh fuck,” escaping his lips. He didn’t move for a few moments as both of you got accustomed to the way the other felt.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart, can I move?” He whispered, eyes meeting yours, pleading and longing.

“Please, oh my god, Sam please.”

He began to withdraw from you immediately, slowing himself to feel every inch of you against him. He pulled out almost completely, leaving just the tip in before he pushed back in with a steady roll of his hips. Each thrust in and out was slow, calculated and deep. Oh, so deep. With every push inside you took all of him down to the base, his tip grazing that sweet spot causing the imaginary coil in the pit of your belly to tighten.

Just when you thought he couldn’t get any deeper than he already was, Sam pushed his torso away from you, his hands reaching up to grip the headboard above you tightly. The leverage he gained from the bed frame allowed him to drive further into your core, pressing directly into your most sensitive area. He kept up the same slow, yet strong and deep pace continuing to build your orgasm steadily.

“Oh god, Sam- fuck, that feels so good.” The praise bubbled from your chest, fucked out and pitchy, your hands gripping his hips firmly. “Plea- Please don’t stop.” You whined, earning a groan from the depths of Sam's chest.

“Not gonna stop, baby. Won’t stop till you’re cumming around my cock. I can tell you’re almost there.”

He moved one of his hands on the headboard to your clit, toying with it and setting your core on fire. You could feel your walls clenching around him the closer you got to your climax. Neither of you would last much longer, both of you peering over the cliff edge.

“I’m about to cum, baby. Look at me.” You met Sam’s eyes as he asked, enamored with the sight of him above you. Wavy chestnut hair fell around his face, eyebrows pinched lightly, and his plump pink lips parted. Breathtakingly beautiful.

“Oh fuck” He moaned as your eyes gazed back into his, “You are so beautiful,” He punctuated the praise with a deep roll of his hips, “Angelic perfection.”

“Sammy.” His name drifted off your lips in a gasp, dissipating in the air.

“Let go, cum for me. Wanna see that pretty face.”

If your first orgasm washed over you, the second crashed into you. You felt it all over your body in an instant, every muscle contracting. Sam came shortly after, slowing his thrusts to work you both through the high until he became too sensitive. He collapsed on top of you pressing kisses to the inside of your neck and on your cheek while you both caught your breath.

Sam pushed up on his arms bringing his face to yours. He brushed the hair out of your eyes with his hand, a fond smile etched onto his face and eyes trailing after his hands.

“I meant it, you know.” He said softly, taking in every detail of your face like he was committing it to memory.

“Angelic perfection.”

Heat flamed your cheeks along with a goofy smile stretching across your lips. Your hands covered your face trying to hide the silly blush that inked your skin, but Sam was quick to pull your hands away.

“Hey, hey,” He giggled, matching your smile, “You’re not allowed to cover that pretty face.” He kissed your lips sweetly, humming and smiling into the kiss.

It was short lived though as he pulled away abruptly, nearly jumping off the bed.

“I almost forgot!” You sat up in his bed pulling the covers over your naked body, watching him walk around his room searching for something.

“Oh here it is!”

He came back to the bed, setting an oddly shaped light on the nightstand. It was a dodecahedron with a black stand and hundreds of different sized dots on each face. He plugged the object in and quickly turned off the salt lamp that had been illuminating the room along with the lava lamp. When he turned the new lamp on, your breath was taken away.

Hundreds of stars along with a few constellations were displayed around his room in a beautiful blue light.

“It’s so beautiful, Sammy.” You stared in awe at all the different little stars, your head whipping around. Sam climbed back into bed with you and pulled you to lay on top of him, your cheek pressed to his chest. The sound of his heart thumped in your ear, steady like his breathing.

“I thought you might like it. Pretty neat, huh?” He studied your face as you gaped at the fake stars, the smile from earlier gracing his features again.

“It’s stunning. I love it.” You drifted back to Sam’s face taking in how pretty he looked in the blue light with stars speckled on his skin.

“You’re stunning.” He cupped your face with both of his large hands, unable to tear his eyes from you. The bright smile on his face faded into something softer, his eyes following suit as you looked at one another.

“I think I’m falling for you, y/n, and I know it might be cheesy, but I wanted to ask if you’d be my girlfriend?”

Cheesy or not, your heart melted at his confession, warmth encasing your whole body.

He was falling for you.

You didn’t need to think about your answer. You knew the moment he asked.

“Yes, of course, Sam.” You beamed, threading your fingers through his that laid on your cheeks.

“I would love to be your girlfriend.”

His smile widened to match yours, and you could feel the way he felt about you just from his soft eyes locked on yours. Pulling you closer, he kissed you with happy excitement, both of you smiling into the kiss.

You fell asleep that night with Sam’s bare body pressed into your own thinking for a second time how lucky you were to have stumbled upon Sam. He was everything you had ever wanted and so much more. In such a short amount of time he had become your everything, and you were quickly falling in love with him.

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taglist: @sammysprincess @losfacedevil @mackalah @freyjalw @belovedsamuel @gretavangroupie @wildbluesorbit @ascendingtostardust @stardustjake @dannywagnerschoppedhair @gold-mines-melting @indigofallingsky @sunandthemoontwinflames @ageofhearingloss @lipstickitty @hellowgoodbye @demolitionndann @jjwasneverhere @sanguinebats @sinarainbows @jordie-gvf-admin @malany-gvf @dannyandthekiszkas @popejosh4ever @gretasimp @sacredthefran @writingcold @thecoldwind @reesetrippingthelight @starcatcher-jake

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sammykiszkamyass · 10 months

Text

TAYLOR WROTE THIS FOR PROFESSOR SAMMY AND PROFESSOR SAMMY ONLY

#spreading the professor sammy agenda #he's all that's on my mind #fic writers im begging you make him real #sam kiszka #sammy kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf

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rachiekiszka · 2 years

Text

Princess

Sam Kiszka x Female Reader, 18+

Warnings- Unprotected Sex, Sex in a semi-public environment

Word Count- 1.3k

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You hated group projects. Usually, it was because you did all the work. This time it was because of your partner. This was the final project for your alternative lit class. The assignment was to pick a song and analyze the lyrics. Your professor had so kindly assigned partners for you, which of course the whole class hated. You were partnered up with Sam Kiszka, instantly putting you in a bad mood. Sam was an absolute dick. He always thought he had the most inspiring take on every piece, and he was always playing devil's advocate. He came across as pretentious, and you knew he thought he was the smartest person in the room. Sam had met up with you after class, giving you a goofy smile and suggesting that you two meet at the library at 5 to discuss the project. Well here you were at 5:07 and he still hadn’t shown. He walked through the door of your private study room a few minutes later carrying two cups of coffee.

“You’re late.” You snipped, tossing a glare in his direction.

“Sorry” he replied plainly, giving you a smirk. “But I brought coffee as a peace offering”

He held one of the cups out to you and you took it from him. Your hands brushed in the process and for just a moment you could swear you blushed, but why would you, you hated Sam.

“So,” you began, “Have you thought about what song you might want to do?”

“I’m not sure, but I think we should do a song we both like, that might be hard though. I don’t really listen to mainstream music”

You rolled your eyes. Sam was pretentious as ever and that was the exact kind of comment you would expect from him.

“Do I annoy you?” Sam inquired, smirking at you. He had seen you roll your eyes at him.

“Well since you asked, yes, I think you’re a pretentious prick and I wouldn’t have picked you to be my partner.”

Sam feigned surprise, sarcastically placing his hand over his heart.

“Ouch! At least I don’t only listen to top 40s pop. Who was your top artist of the year? Taylor Swift?”

You scoffed.

“Oh and who was yours the Beatles? I’m sure your taste in music is sooo unique. And by the way, Taylor Swift is a great artist. “

“Yeah, whatever, she’s a sellout pop princess industry plant”

You audibly gasped.

“Wow. I really didn’t think I could hate you more.”

“Oh please princess, you don’t hate me. I might annoy you, but when are you going to admit to yourself that you’re attracted to me?”

You felt yourself blush. Did he really just call you princess? And even worse.. Did you like it?

“Mhm yeah in your dreams can we just focus on the project please?”

Sam smirked, satisfied with your reaction, but he didn’t press any further.

“Why don’t you list off some artists that you listen to, and I’ll pick the least offensive one?”

You scowled, but pulled out your phone to sift through your playlists.

“Ok.. what about Phoebe Bridgers? Have you heard of her?”

“Yeah actually I have, she’s not too bad. If you don’t mind crying”

That was it. The final straw. He was being a dick and he knew it.

“Fine.” You started, standing up and grabbing your bag, “If you won’t take this seriously I’ll do it myself, and don’t worry, I pinky promise I’ll put your name on whatever trash song I pick.”

Just as you were about to reach for the door you felt a hand on your wrist.

“What!” You snapped, whipping your head around.

Sam stood up, closing the distance between you. You looked at him angrily, waiting for him to answer you. You didn’t expect him to lean in and kiss you. His lips were firm against yours, his long hair brushing against your cheeks. He was a good kisser, it was almost intoxicating. Until you remembered you were kissing Sam, SAM? You pulled back and looked at him quizzically.

“What the fuck?“

“Sorry, I thought maybe… never mind just don’t go we can-“

You cut him off kissing him again. Your brain was screaming at you telling you not to, but it was like you weren’t in control of your body anymore. You hated Sam, or so you thought. So why did this feel so good?

He kissed you back, picking you up and placing you on the desk. Your hands found their way up into his hair. You pulled on it lightly causing Sam to let out a soft moan. Sam moved his way down to your neck. Biting and sucking in a way that you knew would leave marks, but you didn’t care. You threw back your head and relished in the feeling.

“Can I take your shirt off princess?”

You nodded fervently, your face flushed at the use of the pet name. Sam pulled your shirt gently over your head, and you held your breath as he took in the sight of your breasts.

“This too?” Sam asked again toying with your bra strap.

“Yes” you agreed, feeling a little shy, but wanting to continue.

Sam wasted no time in undoing your bra and tossing it aside. He then pulled your left breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple. He took your right breast in his hand, pinching your nipple between his fingers, wanting to give your breasts equal attention. You shifted in your seat desperate for friction against your already soaked core. Sammy pulled away smirking, having noticed the movement in your hips.

“Tell me what you want, princess”

“Please, please touch me” you hated how desperate you sounded, but you didn’t know what had come over you.

Sam I did the button of your jeans, sliding them down over your legs. He made eye contact as he ghosted his finger over your panties, teasing you. You bucked your hips up against his hand, needy for more contact. Sam hooked his long fingers under your panties, pulling them down as well. He looked you up and down.

“So wet for me princess, such a good girl”

You practically disintegrated on the spot. You had never wanted anyone as badly as you wanted Sam in that moment. He tantalizingly dragged a finger through your slick, coming up to focus on your clit. He made small circles around you, gauging your reactions as he increased pressure. You bit your tongue trying your best to keep quiet. You were in the library after all, and you’re sure people could hear you.

“Sammy, please fuck me” he stopped meeting your gaze. He undid his jeans, pulling them down and letting his erection spring free. He was long, but slender, and you could already see the precum dripping off of him.

“Stand” he ordered.

You did as he said and he spun you around, pushing your head down into the desk. He slammed into you, catching you by surprise and causing you to cry out.

“Better be quiet princess, they might hear us” he teased, bringing his hand around to cover your mouth.

He continued to ram into you at an alarming pace, the sounds of your muffled cries filling the room. You could feel yourself quickly reaching orgasm, and Sam could tell, offering you words of encouragement.

“Cmon princess, cum for me pretty girl”

With that you reached your high, your core tightening around Sammy as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. You turned your head around to face him. He was beautiful, sweat dripping down his face.

“Sam” you began breathlessly, “please finish in my mouth, I want to taste you”

He slowed his hips and allowed you to kneel in front of him. You took his length in your mouth, gagging slightly at his size. You bobbed your head up and down, quickening your pace. Sam’s breathing became ragged and you knew he was close.

“I’m gonna cum now princess”

You felt his warm release hit the back of your throat. You swallowed looking up at him.

He began to pull his pants back up, smirking at you. But you didn’t find it as annoying now.

“So,” he started “Phoebe Bridgers huh?”

“Uh yeah,” you said with a smile “Phoebe Bridgers.”

#greta van fleet #greta van smut #greta van fic #sam kiszka #sam gvf #smut

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ageofbajabule · 1 year

Text

Dear Patience | Part Four

Jake Kiszka x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS!! Arguing, alcohol consumption. Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k (It’s shorter than the other parts previously. It’s nearing the end of the series and my writers block was really kicking my ass)

Summary: 2020-2021 Time jump, and some very emotional moments.

Author’s Note: Hey y’all!! Here is part 4, this is a bit shorter than I wanted it. But I’m nearing the end of this series, I really think part 5 will be the end, or part 6 I’m still deciding as I write. So please bare with me🤍

Dear Patience Masterlist

General Masterlist

Apple Music Playlist

Spotify Playlist

The sound of your alarm was going off. 8am. “Shit!” You shot up from your bed, seeing Jake sleeping peacefully on your bed. You crawled over to kiss his cheek. “Hey… Jakey…” You whispered in his ear, making him groan. “What is it?” He shifted to look at you, “I have to get ready for class. I need to be there in order to graduate early this year…” You smiled softly, he got up kissing your lips softly. “Alright, I should probably head back home anyways. Josh has been wanting us at the studio by 9am ever since we started working on the album.”

Jake got up from your bed, putting his clothes back and getting his things together. You smiled, grabbing a robe to put on, walking up to him. “Will you call me later?” You looked up at him, he nodded. “I’ll talk to you as soon as we’re done darlin.” He kissed your forehead. And walked out your apartment leaving you to your lonesome self.

You headed to the bathroom to start the shower, and waited till it was at the perfect temperature to get in. Throughout your shower you exfoliated and shaved like your normal routine. And washed your hair and body. After a good 15 minutes spent in there, you got out blow drying your hair before throwing it up in a messy bun. Grabbing a pair of comfy clothes, to head off to your morning classes.

Luckily you only had two more months left of this hell. It felt like an eternity, but wanting to graduate early meant taking up more classes.

Your day was going by like any other, Mr. Zovaks seminar was an absolute bore. But of course you needed a good recommendation letter for the job you were hoping to get after graduation.

“Y/N!” You heard your friend Emily calling you. You turned around to face her, “Hey Em, what’s up?” Emily got close to you, “What’s going on with you and Sam? I haven’t seen him around.” You sighed, “Sam and I have broken up. It’s for the better anyways… He’s focusing on music, and I’m focusing on this…” You hated having to lie, but you didn’t want her to know what Sam had truly done. “Aw, I’m sorry babes… I’m sure everything will work in the end.” You nodded, smiling, “Hey, do you think Mr. Zovak is gonna lecture us on that stupid book?” You giggled.

Emily nodded to you, “Why wouldn’t he, especially in his monotone voice…” She groaned hearing the door to the classroom open, revealing the professor himself coming in. Here we go.

Throughout the lecture you took notes, and shared thoughts with the class. And before you knew it, class was practically over. After class Mr. Zovak called you over to hand you your recommendation letter. “Miss Y/L/N, I must say. You will do excellent in your career. You are a brilliant writer.” He complimented your work, “Thank you Mr. Zovak, I’m really hoping this publishing company in Nashville accepts my application…” You smiled softly. “I believe you’ll end up in good hands there. Good luck.” He went back to cleaning up his desk area, you then left the classroom.

On your way back to your apartment you had received a phone call from Emily.

You: Hey Em, what's up?

Em: Have you seen twitter yet?

You: No, why what’s going on there…

You put Em on speaker and went to look at twitter.

Em: Jake’s got a new girl, I didn’t even know he had a heart to give like that.

That’s when your feed refreshed and surely enough Jake’s arm was snaked around the mystery woman’s waist. You felt tears build up.

You: Good for him, hopefully he doesn’t break her heart.. Em I’ll talk to you later, I have to finish up some work for some classes.

Em: Alright, I’ll talk to you later Y/N.

Why would he do this to you? Were you just a joke to him, an easy lay? Maybe it was just in the boys' nature to be such assholes. You carried on with your night finishing up work for classes, keeping in contact with the job opportunity waiting for you in Nashville.

Then you heard a knock on your door, you shot up from your couch looking through the peephole. It was Jake on the other side. You opened the door, revealing him in front of you. “Hey Dar-“ You cut him off, “Don’t darlin’ me, how could you Jake!” You yelled at him, he frowned. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this, and it’s more complicated than you think.” He walked in trying to hold your hands, you yanked them from him. “Complicated! It looks pretty blunt to me. Jacob, you're dating someone! A very beautiful girl, who probably has no idea who I am, and that you just fucked me.” You started to cry, “Y/N, I love you…” “Save it. You never loved me, all I ever was to you was someone to play mind games with. You will never change…” You felt you fists clench.

“Please just give me a chance.” “Jacob. No. Just, just get out. Pretend like I never existed and that you never cared… As a matter of fact, that goes for all of you. Don’t contact me ever again…” You started to push him out, “But Y/N!” You slammed the door on his face, you could hear him hit the door as you locked it.

This was the last you heard from him, from any of the guys. You kept Danny’s contact in your phone, but as far as the rest of them. Gone. Deleted. You just focused on yourself.

Summer of 2021

A world pandemic had hit back in early 2020 making graduation an unusual experience, and your move to Nashville quite difficult. Since then, you’ve been making quite the reputation for yourself while living here. You loved your job, attending concerts, taking photos and interviewing artists. It was all you could ever dream of. There were times where you felt alone, all your family was back in Michigan while you were on your lonesome self in a big city.

However you kept yourself busy with writing and taking up some side gigs to photograph weddings and family shoots. You were never really home, you were constantly out with the traveling your job brought you. And when you were home it was just to catch up on sleep and spend time with some friends.

There was a new gig offered to you for this week. A show back to back, you couldn’t turn it down. Especially since you were asked to interview the band, and take some photos for the magazine. You weren’t told who the band was, most times it wasn’t announced until the day of, or when you arrived. It built up the excitement for you, leaving it a mystery.

The show was taking place at the Firstbank Amphitheater. Beautiful venue, you showed up to get your all access badge. “Hi I’m here for the show tonight, I’m from Nashville Music Guide. I’m conducting an interview and taking some photos of the band.” You smiled at the lady at the front entrance, she nodded. “Just need to see your confirmation and then I can bring you back.” You smiled, pulling out your work badge and work paper.

She then brought you past the gates, handing you your all access badge. “There is a lobby over there if you’d like to help yourself to coffee, water, and whatever appetizers. Their manager should be out shortly to discuss whatever before meeting them.” The lady smiled at you, leaving you on your own. You grabbed a water bottle, taking a sip from it looking around the lobby to see if there were any signs of who was performing. But nothing yet.

Then you heard footsteps coming your way, “Hello! You must be one of the writers from Nashville Music Guide.” You turned around to face who you presume is the band's manager, “Yes, yes I am. I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You put your hand out to shake his, which he kindly shook. “The guys are just finishing up getting changed, they are to be on in an hour, and this interview should take about 40 minutes.” He said to you, you nodded in response. “And I will be sure not to go over.” You giggled softly, “Alright if you would follow me this way, we have an area set up for you all to sit.”

You sat in a chair across from a couch in the room. You got your tape recorder out and notepad to write down whatever responses they have to your questions. After about 5 minutes you heard footsteps approaching, you looked up to see the 4 guys you grew up with. “Y/N?” Danny looked at you, “Hi guys.” You smiled softly trying to not make it obvious that this was awkward. “It’s so nice to see you, how have you been?” He pulled you in for a hug, you hugged him back. “I’m good, I've been working a lot lately.” You giggled, “That’s amazing, really dove into writing and photography huh?” He chuckled softly, “It’s really nice to see you Y/N!” Josh chimed in hugging you, you hugged back.

“This is just crazy! I can’t believe you guys are performing tonight. Album is completed?” You smiled, “Yeah, we released it back in April. And now we’re debuting it for some shows.” Sam chipped in, he cut his hair. All the guys looked great after not seeing them for a year and a half. “I think it is our greatest work yet.” Jake smiled. “Well if you guys would sit, and we can start this interview. Your manager told me you’re on a time limit, and I don’t want to overstep…”

The guys all nodded and sat down across from you. You caught a glimpse at Jake. He looked good, and definitely changed his style a bit since the last time you saw them. Throughout the interview you asked basic questions in regards to their new album, upcoming shows and what not. And also asked some silly little questionnaires for the paper. Overall you all had a good time, even caught up a bit in the midst of it all.

“Alright guys, I think that’s all I need. Thank you all so much for your time. This has been great.” You smiled at them all, catching Jake staring at you. “Don’t worry this won’t be the last time you see me, I’ll be photographing tonight and tomorrow’s show.” You smiled at them, “Maybe after the show we can all get together.” Danny chirped, “If you’re all okay with that, I’d love to.” You smiled. Josh, Sam and Danny said their yes’s and Jake nodded in agreement. He stayed silent for most of the interview and time you were together in the same room.

The guys had left the room, leaving you to gather your things and put them in your bag. You set up your camera gear, and made your way to where the other photographers were. This venue was gorgeous and so many people were here. You were impressed with how far they’ve come.

Throughout the first two songs you took pictures of all the guys making sure they were good shots as well. You loved this part of your job. It was a passion really. After you got your pictures, you hung out off to the side stage to watch the remainder of the show. Their new music was definitely brilliant work, and you couldn’t believe all of the work they put into it.

After the show was over the guys met up with you taking you back with them. They all had gotten showers and decided on going out to a bar, you had agreed to join them. You left your work stuff in your car and decided to drive over and meet the guys at the bar. Once you arrived you got out and met them outside the building and walked in together.

“I really appreciate you coming out with us. I’ve definitely missed hanging out with my best friend.” Danny pulled you in for a side hug. “I’ve missed it too. I’m sorry for going M.I.A.” You looked up at him, “Hey, no need to apologize. I get it, you were going through a difficult break up with Sammy. But I swear to you, he’s worked on himself since then. You should really talk and make amends at some point.” He smiled softly and you nodded.

You all sat at a table in a corner ordering drinks and shots. You guys were catching up, filling them in on what you’ve been doing where you live and etc. The guys filled you in on them moving to Nashville this fall to be closer to their recording studio, which made you happy knowing you would have people that felt close to home.

Going up to the jukebox to play some music Sam joined you. “Hey bug… I just want to formally apologize for the way I acted. You never deserved that kind of treatment and I never wanted us to end on bad terms. I miss my best friend…” He looked at you. “Sam, I know. And I’m sorry for going ghost on you. You didn’t deserve that either… I was just, really going through it. And didn’t know how to cope any other way. I just want to move past it all…” You smiled at him, “So are we good?” You asked him, “Of course bug.” He pulled you in for a hug.

When you hugged Sam you saw Jake peeking over from the table, he was watching the two of you. But when he caught your eyes he looked away. You departed from the hug and picked some songs with Sam to play in the bar.

The remainder of the night was fun, filled with dancing, drinking and singing. Drunk singing to be exact. But it was time to head out as the bar did last calls. You had sobered up to drive home, but before leaving you made sure to get all of the guys new contacts. They all started to make their ways to the hotel they were staying at, but Jake stayed behind.

“Y/N…” You were walking but stopped and turned around. “Yeah Jake…” You looked up at him, “I just, I just want to talk… If you will hear me out.” He looked at you, fidgeting with his belt loop. “I’m all ears…” You held onto your sweater. “I’m really sorry for being a dick and treating you the way I did all these years… I just. I never know how to express myself, and all I’ve ever been good at is fucking up any good thing that ever comes my way…” “Jake that’s not true, you’re doing great with music.” You smiled softly at him, “No, this doesn’t have to do with that. I let my ego get to me and pushed you out… And I know you will probably never forgive me for that, and I completely understand. But I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

You could see the tears in his eyes, “Jake. I’m…” You started to choke on your words as tears formed, “I’m so sorry for not giving you the chance to speak that night… I was just so angry.” He looked at you, “I know, I’ll never forget the look of hurt on your face… I really let you down that night. I’ll never forgive myself for it.” He sighed, “I really appreciate you coming to talk to me, and clearing this…” You hugged him tightly, “Thank you, for giving me the opportunity.” He hugged back tightly and kissed the top of your head. “Would you want to get together sometime to discuss things some more?” He looked at you, “I would like that Jake.”

After your conversation the two of you remained in touch letting the boys finish their small debut tour and press releases. You had gotten close again with all the guys, it's like you never left.

4 Months Later

They boys had officially moved to Nashville, Jake and Josh had bought a house together. And Sam and Danny got their own place as well. You had shown them around town to get them comfortable in the area, not like they’ve never been here before but to show them the best places to eat and such.

Jake had texted you one evening.

Captain Jake: Hey, are you free Saturday night? :)

You: Yeah, did you have something in mind?

Captain Jake: I was thinking about dinner at my place? Josh and the guys are going out, and I’m really looking forward to that conversation I wanted to have with you.

You: Yeah, absolutely. Do you want me to bring anything? :)

Captain Jake: Just yourself and that delicious apple pie you used to make for us back at home.

You: Alright! I will be sure to do that, I’ll see you this weekend Jake :)

Captain Jake: See you Saturday darlin :)

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