Greta Van Fleet Imagines

the game-sfk

Sorry for the shortness and lack of real plot. I wrote this while waiting in line for a covid test. But can we take a moment to appreciate them? Because one of them knocked on my window and said they were going to take a twenty minute break because they'd been working since seven and it's 2:20. Then the man in the car behind me had the audacity to yell at the woman like it was her fault. Smh. I really don't like people.

Warnings: none

Word count:???

"Can I kiss you?"

"What? No!" You dropped your fork on the table, shocked at his request. He'd been silently enjoying his meal, listening to the ambient music for about twenty minutes now.

"Y/N, please," Sam pleaded, his hand trying to keep you from walking away.

"Sam, you said we were going to dinner tonight, as friends."

And that's how it started. His brothers were supposed to come along, but they canceled last minute leaving the two of you. A normal night with him at a local restaurant. The menu had meal upon meal of pasta and other Italian cuisine. Everything was going fine until his ex-girlfriend walked in. She took a seat with her new beau. The hostess had sat them three tables over, parallel with you two. He scooted his plate over, sliding across the leather seat of the booth.

"I'm not going to kiss you to spite your ex," you grumbled.

She was playing the same game. She was about two seconds away from pulling a Lady and the Tramp spaghetti moment with her oblivious date.

"It won't change anything, I swear," he said.

You rolled your eyes, making a big show. "Sam!" You giggled, playfully slapping his arm. "Not here!"

He caught on, guffawing. "I swear, Y/N."

You laughed again, slightly louder this time. This caught her attention once. Sam caught her staring, his face turning red. You pulled his attention back to you, playing with the neckline of your blouse. His ex never liked you. She always suspected that there was something between the two of you, rumors fueled by social media. It was funny, in all honesty. She would see photos from fans, you standing in the background holding drinks or a backpack. Sam would neglect to tell her that you were coming along which would prompt long phone calls of Sam reassuring her that she was the only one for him. The only issue was that Sam wasn't the only one for her. He was heartbroken at first, but quickly got over it after you opened his eyes to the situation.

"What's your game here?" He whispered, breaking into a smile and pretending like he said something funny.

You shook your head. "You're the one who wanted to play, so play along we shall." You placed a hand on his thigh. He squirmed slightly.

Her eyes were practically staring daggers into you. She had seen your hand on his lap. The little game continued to the end of the meal. The check came and Sam slid his card into the pocket. "Are you ready?"

You nodded, gathering your purse and taking one last sip of your drink. It took a second to realize that you had to pass their table before you could make it to the register. She stood up, blocking his exit. Her date was at the bar, waiting patiently and unaware of what was going on.

"Samuel," she drawled batting her eyes. "Can we speak privately?"

The simple action, paired with a sweet smile and a tilt of her head always had Sam on his knees. The flirt that radiated off of her had him in a chokehold, and she knew. You expected him to slide out of the seat, maybe even pull and Fiona Gallagher and screw her in the bathroom, but instead he shook his head.

"I'm a little busy," he said, turning back to you. His hand landed on the small of your back, practically pushing you to the front of the restaurant. She huffed and sat back down, defeated. His hand moved to hold yours while standing at the register. Sneaky bastard, you though, knowing that his ex was still staring.

"I owe you big time," he said, holding the door open for you.

"Yes you do," you smirked, thinking of what ridiculous things you could get him to do with you.