Curate, connect, and discover
Sam Kiszka X Reader - Blog Posts
Sanguine Osculum
Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction.
Vampire!Sam Kiszka x Reader
Warnings: Standard warnings for a vampire fic, along with 18+ themes in future chapters.
You'd heard the stories, of course. Deep in the woods, a desolate manor stood. The family who once called it home, they said, had all fallen victim to some illness, leaving the once bustling estate empty and unkempt.
But those who decided to explore it always spoke of an energy that seemed to exist there, of a presence that resided within the worn-down walls. Believers suggest that the spirits of the four young brothers who had once lived there still wandered the halls, unable to accept that they're no longer alive. Others just say it's a creepy old manor, empty and alone. These claims ignited a fire of curiosity within you, and you were itching to explore the place yourself.
The family, it seemed, had originated from somewhere in Europe, their lineage a long line of nobility and prestige. They were revered, held in high regard, as if royalty. Upon arriving here, however, their once illustrious name faded into obscurity. They vanished from the public eye, retreating into the confines of their manor.
This only added to your intrigue, if you were being honest. What secrets lie waiting in that old manor? Was it really haunted?
You decided one afternoon that you were going to find out for yourself, which is how you ended up stood in front of the dilapidated manor, a large pack on your back and anticipation thrumming under your skin.
The manor, once a symbol of opulence and prosperity, now sat in a state of disrepair and loneliness. Time had not been kind to the large estate, with ivy creeping up the decaying walls, nature reclaiming what was once its own. The windows, many shattered, stared out into the world with hollow eyes, as if yearning for what it once was.
The doors were still functional, with a large, ornate knocker staring back at you. Just for the hell of it, you lifted the heavy iron knocker and let it hit the door once, the noise echoing through the halls.
Nothing seemed to jump out at you, no ghosts, no squatters, no animals, so you assumed the place really was empty. You pushed the heavy door open with your shoulder, grateful you had worn something you didn't mind getting messed up as a loose splinter tore a small rip in your sleeve.
While the outside of the manor was in a rather sad state, the inside was surprisingly intact. It was dusty, sure, and some things here and there seemed damaged, but most of the furniture and knicknacks still sat as if no time had passed.
The foyer, once a grand entrance hall, greeted you with faded elegance. The air hung heavy with the scent of neglect, mingling with the faint aroma of aged wood and mothballs. Rays of sunlight filtered through the cracked and dusty windows, casting a dappled light on the old wooden floors. The faded paintings on the walls, still intact beneath the layers of dust, spoke of a time when this place was alive with laughter and vibrant conversations.
You were glad you had decided to bring your camera with you, eager to get photos of this beautiful place. Even the kitchen was elegant; black and white stone floor, white brick walls, and dark stained wood throughout the room spoke of the wealth of the family who once lived here. You wondered what kind of meals they enjoyed that were prepared here.
Your feet carried you to what seemed to be a ballroom of sorts. A large grand piano sat in a corner, intricate carvings decorating its glossy exterior. You were surprised by the lack of dust on it, as if someone took care of it.
The room itself was vast, adorned with chandeliers that hung precariously from the ceiling, their crystal droplets dulled and tarnished. The walls, once adorned with opulent tapestries and intricate artwork, now displayed faded remnants of their former glory. Gossamer curtains, moth-eaten and tattered, danced with the breeze that seeped through the broken windows, casting eerie shadows on the worn parquet floor.
As you reached the old piano, you felt a shiver up your spine. It felt like there were eyes on you, silently watching from some darkened corner. Looking around the sprawling ballroom revealed nothing, not even a mouse scuttling across the floor. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn't shake that feeling.
And maybe you were just overly superstitious, but you didn't want to risk having a ghost angry at you for touching their stuff without asking.
"I-" You spoke up, stuttering at the way your voice echoed throughout the empty room, "I hope you don't mind if I play your piano. I won't break it, I promise."
And suddenly, you felt the tension in the room disappear, as if whoever was watching you was giving you permission.
You gently sat on the wooden bench, letting your fingers drift to the keys. Playing it, you were surprised to find it was still mostly in-key. You didn't know how to play much on the piano, just some simple melodies, but you enjoyed playing it, nonetheless. To be able to play a piece of history was so exciting to you.
You still felt watched as you played, but the gaze felt more curious now. Once you finished playing, you stood from the piano and glanced around the large room.
"Thanks for letting me play. I'll leave you be now," You say again to the seemingly empty room before heading back to the front room.
The sweeping staircase, its banister worn but still sturdy, beckoned you to explore the upper floors. Each step you took echoed through the empty space, reminding you of the tragedy that took place here. You couldn't help but wonder about the lives that once ascended these steps, the footsteps that once filled the hollow emptiness.
Rooms branched off from the main staircase, some to the left and some to the right. The right seemed to be bedrooms, which you left for later. The first room you came across was a library.
As you stepped into the dimly lit space, you couldn't help but be captivated by the sight before you. The room was lined from floor to ceiling with towering bookshelves, their wooden frames weathered by time. The shelves were filled with rows upon rows of books, their spines bearing the weight of forgotten stories and hidden knowledge.
Sunlight filtered through the dust-laden windows, casting an ethereal glow that danced upon the countless volumes. Each ray seemed to breathe life into the forgotten tales, giving them a chance to whisper their secrets once more. You could almost imagine the whispers of the authors, their words suspended in the air, waiting for someone to pick them up.
You ran your fingers along the books as you made your way deeper into the room, marveling at the fragility of their spines and the delicate scent of aged parchment that filled the air. The room was silent, save for the faint rustling of pages as the wind tiptoed through the cracks in the windows.
As you reached the center of the library, your eyes were drawn to an ornate desk, tucked away in a corner. The desk stood proud, its surface adorned with intricate carvings of flowers and vines. You felt watched once more, but this gaze was different. It was wary, but more gentle.
Speaking eased the tension last time, so you decided to do so again.
"Hello... I'm just here to look around. I won't take any of the books."
And again, the air felt calmer. You were certain there was a presence here, but it didn't seem angry or violent. Just... watchful. Careful of it's possessions.
You read some of the papers that sat on the desk. They seemed to be poems, or maybe songs, your eyes trailing along the faded ink. You didn't stay in the library very long, the dust making your throat tickle. You thanked the unseen presence again before moving on.
The room next door was a music room of some sort. Various instruments lay around the room, though two caught your interest: a beautiful violin and a very old guitar. At this point, you weren't surprised when you felt watched again, though this time, you felt a bit of annoyance seep into the room. You decided it would be best to leave the instruments alone; whatever was watching you seemed protective of them.
"I won't touch your things, I promise."
The tension cooled slightly, but you could still tell that you weren't wanted in here.
"Sorry if I'm intruding... I'll take my leave now."
You quickly exited the music room, letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You decided to leave that room be for now; whatever was in there didn't want you in there with it.
The last room on the left side was a sitting room, bathed in the faint light of the slowly setting sun. As you stepped inside, your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged wood and lingering spirits.
An ornate bar, its polished surface covered by empty liquor bottles, commanded attention, taking up a large portion of the room. Crystal decanters, now empty and collecting dust, stood alongside tarnished glasses.
On the other end of the room, nestled beneath the glow of an antique chandelier, sat a cluster of chairs. Their faded upholstery now bore the marks of time, their frayed edges and worn cushions a result of the passage of years. A pool table, its green baize cloth marked with faint traces of chalk, stood nearby, its wooden frame showing signs of wear and tear.
You set your bag down and sank into one of the large chairs, the worn leather creaking softly beneath your weight. It was then that you felt it—an inexplicable shift in the atmosphere, as if the room had come alive with an unseen presence. The air crackled with a tangible energy, and a shiver danced its way down your spine.
The feeling of being watched returned, but this time, it was different. It was no longer a mere gaze, but a physical presence that settled in the room with you. You could almost feel the wamth of another person, almost feel the subtle disturbance of the air as they moved.
And then, in the periphery of your vision, you saw it. There was a flicker of movement, a shadow cast against the wall. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned your head, eyes narrowing in an attempt to make sense of the mysterious figure that now stood before you.
You could see dark curly hair and a white ruffled shirt, like the ones you'd see in those period dramas. Curious, dark eyes stared back at you as you stood on shaking legs, unsure of what you were looking at. The figure stepped closer, and you could finally see the rest of his features.
He was handsome, and reminded you of the old Greek statues you'd seen at the art museum once. There was something off about him, though, and his movements were too quiet for your liking.
It took a minute to find your voice, and it trembled once you did.
"H-Hello... I'm sorry for intruding..."
The young man looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow before finally speaking.
"You should leave. Your kind shouldn't be here. It's not safe."
His voice was low and rough, but there was a softer tone to the second half, as if he were genuinely concerned for you.
"U-um... okay..."
You glanced at the door, slowly walking to it and keeping your distance from the man.
"Can I ask if you're-"
"You really should take your leave. It's not wise to be here right now," he repeated.
You decided to take heed of his warning, slipping out of the room and back into the hallway. The air felt different than before, as if the manor itself was watching you. You quickly headed back down the staircase and out the front door, your heart thumping out of your chest.
Honestly you hadn't even realized it was so late, too enveloped in exploring. Reaching for your cell phone, you came back empty handed.
Shit. You left your bag upstairs.
You couldn't just leave it behind; you didn't have that kind of money. And your camera was in it too, and you definitely didn't want to lose that.
So, with a deep breath, you re-entered the manor. Climbing the stairs, you felt like you were making a mistake, but you continued on. You had to.
As you reached the landing, you could see the door leading to the sitting room standing ajar, a sliver of light peeking through the crack. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears as you approached cautiously, one hesitant step at a time.
Pushing the door open, you entered the room once again, your eyes instantly drawn to the spot where you had left your bag. It lay there, innocently perched upon the worn chair, waiting patiently for your return.
With a sigh of relief, you hurriedly retrieved your bag, pulling it over your shoulders before turning around and running directly into the young man from before.
"Why are you still here?" He asked, worry in his tone.
"I- um, forgot my things..." You replied, shocked that he wasn't a ghost like you first though. His body was physical, clearly, as you had run into him. His skin was cooler than your own, but not wildly so.
"Leave now. Please," He gently pushed you out of the room, and his tone worried you.
In your rush to head down the stairs, however, you slipped. You felt the ground approaching your face, and closed your eyes as you braced yourself for impact. But it never came. Instead, you felt gentle arms around you, and a new voice spoke quietly into your ear.
"Easy, Darling..."
You opened your eyes and looked up, your eyes meeting honey brown ones. This was a different young man, his short brown hair slicked back, showing off his soft features and slight stubble. He wore an off white ruffled shirt with a fancy jacket over it, his dainty features giving him a charming look overall.
"You should be more careful, Darling. You could've gotten hurt."
He had a boyish tone to his voice and didn't look like he was much different in age to yourself, though you could've been wrong. His hands were a bit clammy, but you ignored it as he helped you to the front door.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"It's quite alright, Darling," He cut you off, before smiling softly, "Now, I must ask you to head back home. You shouldn't linger around strange places so late..."
You swallowed and nodded, not missing the way he looked you up and down, his gaze landing back on your face.
"As lovely as it was to meet you and listen to you play, Darling, I must ask that you not return. It's simply for your own safety. Oh, and don't tell anyone you saw us. We don't like visitors..."
You nodded again. You certainly wouldn't be telling anyone about this. It's not like they'd believe you.
The young man smiled again, giving you a slight bow.
"Have a lovely night, Darling," He whispered, closing the door once more.
As you drove home that night, only one thought filled your head.
You had to go back to that place.
-------
The manor seemed just as empty as before when you decided to return, just days later. The overgrown ivy still twisted around the stone walls, casting eerie shadows in the fading light of dusk. The looming structure stood as a silent sentinel, guarding its secrets within. The heavy oak door beckoned you forward, its intricate carvings a stark contrast to the peeling paint and weathered facade. You wondered for a moment if you imagined the strange people who you had met the last time.
You were tempted to raise the heavy knocker once again, but you knew deep down that you would get no response. The manor still seemed abandoned, frozen in time, a relic of a bygone era. Yet, faintly, you could hear what sounded like music drifting through the air, carried on a haunting melody.
Intrigued and unable to resist the allure of the sound, you stepped into the manor once more. The music was drawing you deeper into its depths, the soft creaking of floorboards beneath your feet adding to the somber ambiance that surrounded you.
After a minute of wandering the lower halls, you finally reached the grand ballroom. The doors stood ajar, revealing a scene straight out of a dream— or perhaps out of a period drama.
In the corner of the room, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a figure sat at the grand piano. His fingers danced across the keys with effortless grace, conjuring a haunting melody that seemed to reach the very core of your being.
Stepping closer, you recognized him as the young man from before, the one who caught you on the stairs. You couldn't see much of his face from where you stood, but managed to see that his eyes were closed and he seemed to move with the music. His brow would furrow and relax with the highs and lows of the melody, and his mouth hung slightly open, quiet mumbles spilling out unconsciously.
The scene before you was captivating, almost surreal in its beauty and mystery. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across the room, adding an ethereal quality to the young man's performance. The melody he played seemed to echo through the vast ballroom, filling the space with a sense of melancholy and longing.
As you watched him, you couldn't help but be drawn in by his music. Each note was played with such emotion and skill, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys. It was as though the piano was an extension of his own body, each chord and harmony a reflection of himself.
His body swayed with the music, his movements fluid and graceful. You could sense the passion and dedication he poured into his playing, his entire being consumed by the haunting melody that filled the room. It was a performance unlike any other, and one you knew he expected no one to see.
As the music reached a crescendo, his eyes fluttered open, revealing depths of honey brown that seemed to hold a thousand thoughts at once. But then, he played a sour note, his body going stiff as he slowly turned to make eye contact with you.
"What are you doing here...?" He asked, his voice laced with confusion, "I thought I asked you not to come back."
He stood quickly, his movements as graceful as a dancer.
"I'm sorry... I just- I had to... I needed to make sure what I saw last time was real..." You tried to explain, stumbling over your words as he approached.
"As much as I'd love to keep your company, darling, you can't be here," He whispered, using that name again. The one that only made you want to stay here longer. He stopped a few feet away from you and stood so still you couldn't even see him breathe. It was as if he was afraid to come closer, or even breathe the same air as you.
"Why is it so dangerous to be here?" You asked, taking a step forward, "That's what the other boy said too, the one with the curly black hair."
The young man tilted his head to the side, "Curly black hair... you met Daniel?" His confusion turned to concern, "You didn't happen to meet anyone else, did you?"
You shook your head.
He reached out, as if to turn you towards the door, "Then you still have a chance to leave. I'd do so before either of them know you're snooping around here again-"
"Sam?"
Another man's voice echoed down from the top of the stairs, and the brown haired boy, Sam apparently, stiffened.
"Damnit..." He muttered, grabbing your arm and leading you to a closet, "Stay in here and do not make a sound. Just trust me."
With that, he pushed you in and shut the door, leaving you in the dark, dusty storage closet. You pressed your ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from outside.
The muffled voices of Sam and the newcomer drifted through the wooden barrier, "Sam? Who's down here with you?" This voice was lower and had a slight rasp to it compared to Sam's more boyish tone.
"There's no one here, Jake. It's just me."
The other man, Jake, seemed to be unsure of that answer, his footsteps coming every so slightly closer.
"I can smell that someone else was here, Sam. You know that no one can-"
"Jake, it's probably just from the person who was here the other day. They were messing with my piano, so it probably still has their scent," Sam explained, though you didn't understand what he meant. You didn't stink, did you? You sniffed yourself but could only smell the dust and mildew in the closet. It tickled your nose, and you did all you could to hold in the sneeze threatening to come out.
"Maybe... I just don't like it when people come snooping around. If any of them find out, they'll be here with pitchforks and torches by nightfall."
Unfortunately, you could only hold in the sneeze for so long.
"Achoo! ... shit..."
The sound echoed through the dark, dusty closet, interrupting the stillness that had enveloped the space. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized your cover had been blown. The muffled voices of Sam and Jake abruptly halted, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to last forever despite it only being a few moments.
The closet door was suddenly flung open as you locked eyes with who you assumed was Jake. His brown hair fell effortlessly to his shoulders, and there was an undeniable elegance about him, an air of regality that seemed to set him apart from the others. His outfit was different too; a red vest and jacket that showed off much of his chest and the necklaces that lay there, paired with red suit pants and white pointed dress shoes
But it was his eyes that captivated you the most. Like Sam's, they were a piercing amber-brown, but there was something about the way Jake looked at you that made you shiver. It was as if he was looking through you instead of at you. It was both unsettling and electrifying.
His lips curled into a snarl, revealing unusually sharp teeth that glinted in the sparse illumination, adding to his menacing demeanor. Without a word, he grabbed the front of your shirt, his grip firm and unyielding as he backed you against the wall.
With his face mere inches from yours, you could see every detail of his nearly perfect skin. His gaze bore into you, as if searching for answers you were not even sure you had. The intensity in his eyes was like a storm brewing, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.
"Who the hell are you, and why are you here?" His voice was low and dangerous, each word dripping with anger. The weight of his question pressed down on you, demanding a response that you struggled to form.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sound of your own fearful breaths. In that moment, you felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a cat, helpless and exposed.
The seconds stretched on, each heartbeat echoing in your ears like a drumbeat of impending danger. The dim light cast shadows across Jake's face, accentuating the sharp angles and the intensity of his gaze. It was as if time itself had slowed down, trapping you in this moment of uncertainty and fear.
But just as you thought you might crumble under the weight of his scrutiny, Sam spoke up, placing a hand on Jake's arm, "Let them go, Jake. I promise they're not a threat to us."
Jake's grip on your shirt loosened slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on you, "You know their kind and our kind aren't exactly friends, right, Sam? What's stopping them from ratting us out the second they leave?"
Ratting them out about what? For being weirdos living in some old manor in the woods?
"I- I won't say anything! I swear on my life!" You manage to blurt out, the words tumbling out of you in a desperate plea.
Sam butted in again, "Jake, please. It's the one chance we have to see what people are up to now. Please?" He sounded like a child begging their parent to let them keep a new pet.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake released his hold on you, stepping back with a wary look in his eyes, "Fine. But if you say one word to anyone, I'll gut you."
Jake turned on his heel and stormed off, his coat billowing behind him. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, fading into the distance like a distant thunderstorm. Alone with Sam now, you turned to face him, taking in the subtle downturn of his shoulders and the crease of worry etched into his brow.
"I apologize about him. He doesn't trust people very much anymore..." Sam's voice was apologetic and worried, "He'll eventually get over it. Just, ah, please don't tell anyone about us?"
You sighed in annoyance, still confused about all this, "Tell anyone what?? I still have no idea what or who you guys are!"
It was Sam's turn to seem confused.
"You... you don't? I assumed you had returned because you figured it out..." Sam trailed off, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed, his brows knitting together in a perplexed expression.
"Oh. Well... hmm..." Sam's voice trailed off, suddenly less sure sounding than before.
"Well?" you prompted.
Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of whatever knowledge he carried. He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I, um... my brothers and I... we're not human. Not anymore, at least..." Sam's voice wavered, the confession weighing down his every syllable.
You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but all you found was raw vulnerability.
"You're... not human?" The words felt foreign on your tongue, a question you'd never thought you'd say.
Sam nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "We're something else now. Something different..." His features were drawn with worry, his eyes pleading for understanding, "I know this is a lot to take in, but please... we mean no harm. We're just trying to survive, to exist in a world that isn't made for us."
Not human.
The words echoed in your thoughts as questions fought for attention in your mind, demanding answers that seemed to slip through your grasp like water through a sieve. Not human. Then what was he?
You could touch them, so probably not ghosts; they weren't rotting in front of you, so not zombies, a voice in your mind reasoned, trying to make sense of the impossible truth standing before you.
You looked at Sam, truly looked at him, and actually took in his features. His smooth, perfect skin that accentuated the sharp angles of his face, his amber eyes that leaned a little more red than brown, and his too-sharp teeth, elongated and pointed, glistening slightly under the light filtering through the dusty windows.
Oh.
It all made sense.
The pieces of the puzzle fell into place with a resounding click, and suddenly, the world around you seemed to shift. Sam stood before you, a creature of the night, a being that belonged to the shadows.
"You... You're a vampire??" You ask in a hushed tone, a part of you still not believing it.
Sam nodded slowly, his features softened by a hint of sadness, "Yes, I am. And so are my brothers. We... we never wanted this life, but it chose us nonetheless." His voice was a whisper, full of longing for a world long gone.
"Do you... feed on people?" You ask, stepping back.
"No! None of us do. We can stay satiated enough with the wildlife in the surrounding forest," Sam assured you, taking a step to keep the same distance between you both, "Trust me, I don't like it either. I didnt like eating animals even before becoming this. But I can assure you that none of us will hurt you."
You cast a glance to the doorway where Jake had just stormed off, "What about him?"
"Jake's just highly overprotective of us. Most people tend to run screaming when they discover they're standing in a house full of vampires."
You stayed still for a moment, considering your options. You could run away like others apparently had, and try to forget this place and it's otherworldly inhabitants. But there was something in Sam's demeanor, a certain earnestness in his voice, that made you want to stay.
"You promise none of you will hurt me?" You ask, watching as Sam's face perks up at your words.
"I promise. I swear on my eternal life," Sam grinned, placing a hand over his heart. His teeth glinted in the light, but strangely, you weren't scared of him.
"Alright then. I'll trust you... Sam, was it?" You say, relaxing slightly.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I never introduced myself, did I? My name is Samuel Francis Kiszka, and it's a pleasure to meet you, darling," Sam bowed dramatically, peeking up at you after a moment with another grin, "But you may call me Sam."
You told Sam your own name, chuckling when he decided to keep referring to you as "darling" instead.
"Now, I'd love to give you the grand tour, if you'd like?"
You, of course, agreed.
As Sam led you through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, you couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the place. You followed Sam's tall figure, his movements graceful yet purposeful, as he showed you around the rooms you had only briefly passed through before.
The ballroom, with its ornate chandeliers and marble floors, stood as a reminder a bygone era. Sam spoke of the nights when music and laughter filled the room, when guests twirled in elegant gowns and tailored suits. His voice echoed in the vast space, recounting tales of extravagant parties and lavish gatherings that once graced the halls.
Next, he guided you to the kitchen, where the scent of spices and herbs still lingered in the air, even under all the dust. The massive hearth, now cold and dark, had once been the heart of the bustling room. Sam pointed out the intricately carved cabinets and shelves, explaining how the pantry used to aways be stocked with supplies from the nearby village, ensuring that those living in the manor at that time never went hungry.
Moving on, you entered the dining room, its long table still set with fine china and silverware. The high-backed chairs stood empty, a stark reminder of the absence of guests. Sam's voice softened as he described the family meals shared around the table, the laughter and arguments that had once filled the room now reduced to nothing but memories in his mind.
The last major room you were shown on the lower floor was the main sitting room. Though also covered in a layer of dust and it's windows cracked and curtains torn, it still seemed grand. The large couches were made of fine velvet and leather, clearly expensive in their time and still worth a hefty sum today. The large fireplace, all of its bricks imported from Europe according to Sam, used go heat nearly the whole house.
"Though, we don't really have a need to keep cool or warm anymore. In fact, we seem to run colder than ever before," Sam explained, "We can feel warmth but it doesn't do much, Sam continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. As he spoke, you noticed a flicker of something in his eyes, a distant longing for sensations that he could no longer fully experience.
The warmth of a crackling fire, the gentle touch of sunlight on his skin – all of no use to him in the eternity of his existence. Maybe all the romance novels had made you forget how lonely the life of an immortal must be.
"But enough about me," Sam turned to head out of the sitting room, gesturing to the large staircase, "I think you should formally meet my brothers."
---------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER 2:
-Spoil You Rotten-
Sam Kiszka/Reader
18+ Only!
You were only here because it was your best friend's birthday. You'd never spend this much money for a night out at such a fancy restaurant otherwise.
Your eyes scanned the room, searching for your best friend among the sea of well-dressed patrons. Every woman seemed to be draped in luxurious fabrics, their jewelry most likely more expensive than your car. Men donned in tailored outfit exuded an air of confident sophistication that you just couldn't mimic.
You, on the other hand, felt out of place in your simple ensemble, its lack of embellishments a stark contrast to the attire around you.
You shuffled past a waiter who side-eyed you a bit, finally catching a glimpse of your friends familiar hair. She grinned and waved you over, gesturing to the seat beside her.
"Hey, you made it!" She exclaimed. Her grin widened, causing you to smile as well, her joy infectious.
Your eyes glanced at the various faces at the table. You recognized nearly all of them, most being mutual friends of yours. One, though, you've never met.
He wore a purple and white bleached button up shirt, though it was half-unbuttoned, exposing his soft chest. An expensive looking gold pendant hung around his neck, the gold glinting back at you in the gentle candlelight around the table. His short chestnut hair was pushed back out of his face, showing off his honey brown eyes and a little scruff of facial hair. His lithe fingers delicately lifted the champagne glass up to his lips, your eyes following it without thinking.
Okay, you admit that this stranger was pretty. His eyes met yours for just a moment, a slight smile gracing his lips.
"Oh, Y/N, this is Sam. He and his brothers are good friends of mine, and-" Your friend kept explaining how she knew him, but to be honest, you weren't paying attention.
Sam... so that was his name...
"It's nice to meet you, Sam," you say, your voice a little breathless as you extended your hand towards him. Sam's honey brown eyes sparkled mischievously as he took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His grip was firm, yet gentle, his fingers calloused but palms soft. Your face suddenly felt a bit warm.
"Nice to meet you too, sweetheart," Sam replied in a playful tone. He released your hand and, with a teasing wink, knocked back the rest of his champagne.
Your friend leaned over, her laughter bubbling up from her lips, "He's always like that, pay him no mind," she said, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. You couldn't help but join in her laughter, the tension from the momentary exchange easing as a sense of familiarity settled in.
As the dinner progressed, your focus shifted back to the party for your friend. Everyone presented her with various gifts; a new pair of shoes, the book series she's been eyeing for a while, a whole box of cookies from her favorite local bakery, an expensive gold bracelet from Sam, and from you, a simple hand-knit scarf.
Your gift seemed ordinary in comparison, but when she wrapped you in a tight hug you let go of your anxieties, knowing she loved it just as much as she did everything else.
You caught Sam's gaze again out of the corner of your eye, that mischievous glint in his eyes again.
"That's a great scarf, Y/N..." He mumbled, a slight twinge of admiration worming its way into his voice, "You're pretty good with your hands, eh?"
Your cheeks flushed crimson, the heat spreading across your face like wildfire. There were a few chuckles as you looked away from Sam, unsure if he was complimenting you or making fun of you.
You shook your head and tried to ignore it as a waiter came over to take your dinner orders. You silently paled at the prices, wondering if it was worth next week's groceries for a nice dinner tonight. Your decision was made for you when Sam spoke up.
"I'll pay for everyone tonight."
A few polite objections came up, but he waved them off with a chuckle, "Nope, I've already decided. Order whatever you guys like, I've got the bill handled," His eyes met yours and, for a second, you felt like he was speaking to you directly, "Let me spoil everyone a bit."
You still tried to order something inexpensive, then leaned over to your friend.
"Hey," You whispered, "Is he really gonna pay for everyone's food?"
"Oh yeah, he is. He does this all the time," She replies with a quiet laugh, "He won't take no for an answer, so don't even try."
"How does he even have so much money?" You ask in a hushed whisper. Sam didn't seem to dress excessively lavish or anything, so his apparent wealth was surprising.
"Oh, you didn't know? He's a musician, he and his brothers. They're all in a band."
You sputtered a bit, covering your noise of surprise with an awkward cough. The first chance you got, you pulled out your cell phone, tucking it under the table a bit and typing the band name into Google.
"Holy shit..." You mumbled to yourself. Sam was a celebrity?? You shouldn't have been surprised, really; the guy oozes charisma and your friend has always had a knack for befriending popular people.
You looked him up and down again, looking away when you realized he had caught you staring. Trying to avoid his gaze, you accepted a glass of wine offered to you, sipping it quickly.
"Let's raise a toast to the birthday girl!" Someone suggested, everyone agreeing.
You risked another glance at Sam as you lifted your glass, and promptly gripped the table as hard as you could.
Sam's eyes never left yours as he raised his wine glass, an unreadable expression on his face. His other hand, though, subtly pulled at the front of his shirt, exposing one of his nipples.
Fuck... He was flirting with you, wasn't he??
As soon as the toast was said, you all but chugged your wine. You were way too sober for this situation, face red and hot. Sam seemed unbothered, laughing with the others like nothing happened.
"You should go for it."
The sudden whisper from your friend surprised you, nearly giving yourself whiplash from how fast you turned to look at her.
"W-what?"
"Sam. You should totally ask him out. I bet he'd say yes."
You scoffed quietly, shaking your head, "There's no way. He's cute and all, but I'm just a nobody."
Your friend had this look on her face, like she knew something you didn't.
"It's your choice, but I think you should do it."
The quiet conversation between the two of you trailed off as the party neared its end. The lively atmosphere that had filled the room seemed to fade into a soft hum, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears. You had indulged in a few glasses of wine at this point, the liquid adding a gentle sway to your movements. The champagne from earlier had only heightened the intoxicating haze that enveloped you.
As you stood, you could feel a slight wobble in your steps, your mind momentarily disoriented by the heady mixture of alcohol and emotions in you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and wished everyone a good night.
A a chorus of farewells and well wishes met your ears, but you dared not risk a glance in Sam's direction. You knew that if your eyes were to meet, all your resolve to go home without making a fool of yourself would crumble like a sandcastle at high tide.
Instead, you focused on getting to your car and back home. You dug around for your keys, blinking away the double vision that appeared for a minute. Maybe you shouldn't drive. But, you couldn't just leave your car here...
A warm, calloused hand snagged your keys from your unsuspecting grip.
You whirled around, your eyes widening as you caught sight of Sam standing there with a gentle grin on his face, your keys held delicately between his fingers. The flickering lamplight cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the twinkle in his eyes.
"I, ah, don't think you should be driving, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, melodious timbre.
"I... I can handle it," you mumbled, your voice betraying your uncertainty as you reached out instinctively for your keys. But before your trembling fingers could grasp them, Sam swiftly moved his hand out of your reach, his eyes never leaving yours.
"No, you really shouldn't," he insisted gently, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "It's not safe, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
You watched as he let himself into the driver's side of your car, gesturing to the passenger seat.
"Well?"
"What?" You asked, not understanding.
"Are you gonna get in so I can drive you home or do you need me to help you into the car?" He asked, a small chuckle slipping out.
Drive you home?? You just met the guy tonight, and still had no clear read on him or his personality, and he had spent all night sort-of flirting with you. The logical thing would be to turn him down and just call for an Uber.
But... you couldn't lie. He was pretty, he seemed nice enough, and damn it, it's been a while since you'd went home with anyone. So, after shooting your friend a quick text, you climbed into the passenger seat of your car and told him the address so he could pull it up on his phone.
You hoped this wasn't a mistake.
The car ride was silent for a while. You stared out the window as Sam drove, occasionally taking quick glances at his reflection.
He really was pretty. There was a feminine charm to him with his soft skin and delicate limbs, but his strong features and low voice that made your knees weak gave him a masculine energy that turned heads.
When he met your gaze this time, you didn't look away.
"Y/N, you're staring," He teased, looking unbothered.
"Yeah..." You replied, wiping your sweaty palms on your thighs.
"You seem to do that a lot."
"I have... recently..."
"Mhm... I see."
The car was quiet again, too quiet. You could feel the tension in the air, and it was driving you crazy.
"Thanks for paying for everyone tonight. That was generous of you." You mumbled, hoping to break the awkward silence.
The soft illumination of the passing streetlights painted delicate shadows on his face, accentuating the contours of his features as he spoke, "I like spoiling people..." He glanced over at you, "And you looked like you could use a bit of spoiling."
Your face burned red at that, but you managed to pull a response from your lips. "I, um... thanks. I really appreciate it, Sam. If you ever want, I can pay you back..."
"Nope." Was his simple response.
"But-"
"Nuh-uh. I have more money than I know what to do with, Y/N. I'll gladly spend it on a dinner with my friends. I mean, what else would I use it on? Another piano? Trust me, I don't need you to pay me back."
You snickered at his words, grateful for his relaxed energy.
"Alright, alright. I'll let you spoil me, but only this once," You teased back as he pulled into the driveway of your apartment complex. It was then that you realized something, "Wait... how are you gonna get home?"
He shrugged, "Ah, I figure I'll call an Uber or something."
You shook you head and, before you could think about it, words tumbled out of your mouth, "How about you spend the night?"
Even Sam seemed a bit taken aback by your offer, his eyebrows wrinkling in surprise.
"You don't have to do that, I don't even live far-"
"I want you to."
And there was that tension from before. Maybe the alcohol in your system was giving you a boost of confidence, or maybe you had finally gone crazy, but you repeated what you had said, slower this time.
"I... I want you to stay the night, if you want to."
He nodded, his eyes darker than before, "Yeah. I want to."
----
You'd be embarrassed about it later, but you pounced on Sam the second the door closed behind you both, your body moving with an urgency you didn't know you possessed. You pushed him up against a nearby wall, hands finding their way into his soft chestnut locks as his moved to your hips.
"Mm- fuck, babe..." Sam gasped as you both pulled away for air, "I knew you were desperate but damn."
You used the hand still buried in his hair to yank his head back, giving you room to bite at his throat. A whine clawed it's way out of his throat at the sudden sting of his hair being pulled and teeth on his neck. You giggled against his pulse.
"Who's the desperate one now?"
He rolled his eyes, gripping your hips tighter and pulling them flush to his.
"Oh, shut up and kiss me again," He mumbled, grinning against your cheek.
You two made your way to your bedroom, stumbling down the short hallway and fumbling with your doorknob for a moment before finally getting it open. Sam cornered you against the edge of the bed, his lips never leaving yours. You let your hands wander down to his pants, teasing the button with your fingers.
"Can I...?" You mumbled when he pulls away for a breath.
A low whine slipped from his lips, "Please."
You chuckle, your fingers trailing over his zipper, "Oh... I like it when you beg like that."
"Fuck, sweetheart..."
Sam didn’t stay dressed for very long after that, tossing clothes haphazardly onto your floor to find later.
Your eyes traced the contours of Sam's thin frame, absorbing every inch of him. His sharp shoulders tapered down to a slender, delicate waist and arms sculpted from years of being a musician. The soft glow of the moonlight cascading through the parted curtains highlighted the subtle lines and curves of his body, making him look softer somehow. A trail of hair, sparse yet enticing, led your eyes down to his cock, already hard and weeping against his abdomen.
"You see something you like?" He asked, a cocky grin on his face.
It was your turn to roll your eyes, pushing him onto his back and clambering into his lap. You felt him tense in anticipation beneath you as you let your hands wander over his chest, just feeling his skin beneath your palms. He gasped when you teased a nipple before moving to the other side, mirroring the action.
"...good boy..." You mumbled, not fully aware you even said it aloud.
The reaction was immediate. Sam arched his back, grinding his erection against your core with a high-pitched whine. You were surprised by the intense reaction, not expecting two little words to do so much for him.
"Did you like that?" you asked, your voice a whisper against his ear, your lips brushing gently against his jaw. You felt his body tremble beneath you, his breath hitching in his throat.
"Y-Yeah... I liked it..." he mumbled, his voice barely audible, his blush deepening. His chest rose and fell rapidly, a flush of warmth spreading across his cheeks and trailing down to his chest, contrasting against the pale expanse of his skin. His eyes, now darker than before, were locked on you, awaiting your next move.
You decided to give in for now, keeping eye contact as you scooted down the bed, positioning yourself between Sam's legs. He sat up, his own eyes filled with anticipation and excitement. The air was heavy with the heady scent of desire, thick and intoxicating, as you let your breath ghost over his cock. Your warm exhale sent a shiver down his spine, causing his member to twitch.
Sam's hands trembled slightly as they reached out, his fingers gently tangling in your hair. You gave him a disapproving look.
"Good boys are patient, Sammy... I'll let you hold my hair so long as you don't try to rush me," You warn, leaning into his touch.
"I'll be good..." He replied, not looking away.
And without another word, you leaned in and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. Sam tensed, trying to hold back any sudden movements as a groan slipped out, his grip on your hair tightening instinctively.
The room seemed to hum with anticipation, the sound of your breathing mingling with his low moans. As your tongue traced along the sensitive ridge of his arousal, his hips twitched involuntarily, a small gasp escaping his lips.
He was doing so well at being patient, until...
His hips jolted up as you took the head into your mouth, causing you to gag. You pulled off immediately, not missing the disappointed whine your actions caused.
"Wha-"
"I told you to be still and be patient, didn't I?" You ask. A mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you rub your cheek against his thigh, relishing in the softness of his skin against your face, "Bad boys don't get rewarded, Sammy..." you tut, playfully shaking your head.
Sam's breath hitches at the combination of your words and actions, his pupils dilating as desire courses through his veins.
"I won't do it again."
You shake your head, "You need to say sorry, sweetheart, " you say, using that nickname he used on you.
When Sam kept his lips shut, you grinned.
This was getting good.
"Is my good boy going to be a brat now?" You ask, running a fingertip up to the slit of his cock, teasing it as a bead of precum leaked out, "That's a shame. I guess I'll have to just punish you..."
You wrapped a hand around his cock, drooling onto it to lubricate the slide as you began jerking him off. He clearly seemed confused, not expecting you to continue getting him off. All the teasing seemed to have worked him up quite a bit; it was clear he was already getting close. He was nearing that edge, nearing that tipping point, and then...
And then, you let go, backing off completely.
"No!" Sam gasped, his voice filled with desperation, "Why'd you stop? 'M so close..."
"Bad boys don't get to cum," you replied as you hovered just out of his reach.
Sam's eyes widened, need shining in their depths. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths coming out in short, uneven gasps. He tried to reach for his aching member, his hand trembling, but you swatted it out of the way.
"Don't make me tie up your hands, Sammy..." You threaten, but place a gentle hand on his thigh, a silent, "Is this okay?"
Sam gave the faintest nod, so you pushed onward.
"If you say please, maybe I'll forgive you."
Sam kept his mouth shut.
Well... on with the show.
He got worked up much faster this time, his hands twitching from their spot at his side as you tightened your grip on him. The raw intensity in the room was palpable, a potent mix of desire and anticipation, as your fingers wrapped around Sam's throbbing length. His breath hitched in his throat, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. His eyes were glazed over, his pupils dilated as he watched you.
"You getting close again, baby?" You ask, grinning when he nodded.
Again, before he could finish, you pulled your hands away. He let out a frustrated sob, so close to finishing that even the smallest touch could send him over the edge. His fingers curled into his own hair and he finally gave in, his voice rough from desperation.
"P-please... let me cum..." He begged, tears in his eyes, "I'll be a good boy, I promise! Please!"
Satisfied with his begging, you leaned up and kissed him, trailing your lips down his body.
"There's my good boy..." You mumbled, before taking him into your mouth. He barely lasted a minute, so close from your previous edging. You cringed slightly at the bitter taste of his spunk in your mouth, but it gave you one last idea. You crawled up and pressed your lips to his again, shivering as he tasted himself.
You collapsed beside Sam, making sure to give him plenty of attention as he came down from his orgasm. You kissed the tear tracks that ran down his cheeks and gently ran your fingers through his hair, cradling his lanky body to yours.
"Was that okay?" You ask quietly.
"More than okay, sweetheart..." He replied with a smile, wrapping his arms around you, "Though I think I'm due for some cuddling now."
"Now that's something I can do."
----