#only josh could pull this off

[alwaysonthemend]

can we PLEASE talk about this old josh top??

[ectonurites]

almost 4am can't stop thinking about the meaning of the idiom 'to have blood on [someone's] hands'—to be responsible for a person's death—combined with the fact that Zach is the one we are specifically shown with Daryl's actual blood on his hands (once for real and once in a dream)... Not Josh who had been holding the sword Daryl fell onto, but Zach who took the sword out.

[punkshort]

Home

Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You finally move in with Joel and Sarah.

Warnings: language, fluff (the cheesy hallmark kind), established relationship, reader has a previously explained nickname, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex

WC: 4.8K

Series Masterlist

Dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

Joel was nervous. He never really got nervous, but that particular day, he was nervous.

Sure, it was a big step in your relationship. Or maybe it was because months ago when he asked your father's permission to marry you, he promised he would wait until you moved in together.

And now, that day had arrived.

Where did the time go? He swore it just flew right on by, time that was filled with memories of dinners, parties, dates and holidays together. He hadn't planned what he would say and he felt woefully unprepared. He hadn't even talked to Sarah about it yet.

Just because today is the day you're moving in doesn't mean today is the day I need to ask, he thought to himself. Still, it was a big step. A big, symbolic gesture on both your ends. One that screamed, I'm in this for the long haul.

"Mornin', babygirl," Joel said sleepily as he entered the kitchen, Sarah already sitting at the table in front of an empty bowl and scrolling quietly on her phone.

"Hey," she responded distractedly. He poured himself a cup of coffee and looked around the room. It would be the last morning in his kitchen that didn't include you, and the thought made warmth bloom in his chest and excitement flicker under his skin.

"Big day," he said, but Sarah only nodded. "Y'know, been meanin' to talk to you 'bout somethin'."

She pulled her gaze up from her phone and cocked her head to the side. "Yeah?"

He nodded and took a deep breath before sitting across the table from her. He told her it was about you and she sat back in her chair.

"Bucky?"

He nodded, the silly nickname coming from his daughter's lips that only previously came from your immediate family making him smile.

"You know I'm cool with her moving in, we talked about it months ago. I think it's great. She's amazing and we have so much fun-"

"It's not that," he said, cutting her off before he lost his nerve. "One day - and I ain't sayin' today - but one day, I wanna ask her to marry me."

Sarah just continued to stare blankly at him, so he continued.

"I love her so much, babygirl. She means so much to me, 'n so does her family. I can't imagine my life, our life, without her."

"Yeah, duh," she replied, giving him an incredulous look. "Obviously if she's moving in I figured that would be the next step."

He frowned. "You did?"

"Dad," she whined, rolling her eyes. "I'm seventeen now. Soon, I'll be in college. I want you to be happy. I don't want to worry about you being sad and alone when I'm gone."

"Gee, thanks," he scoffed over his mug, and she giggled.

"What I'm saying is, I think it's great. Go for it. She'll totally say yes."

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah?"

Sarah gave him a deadpan look. "Yes, Dad. She's moving in with you. She's not expecting friendship bracelets."

He smirked and looked down at his coffee. One thing was checked off the list, now he had to think about when and how he would ask you.

It was a long day.

You hadn't even lived in Texas for a full year yet but you managed to accumulate a lot more shit than you thought. Fortunately, between Joel, Tommy, your dad and Josh, your brother in law, all the furniture was quickly unloaded. The time consuming part was working out the angles in hallways and stairs. Since Joel and Sarah already had more than enough furniture, the two of you decided to put your old couch and television in the basement, an idea which Sarah excitedly jumped on board with.

You could hear the men grunting and talking through different ideas on how to get your couch into the basement all the way from Joel's - your - bedroom upstairs with Sarah.

"I am obsessed with this purse," Sarah sighed, tossing a red leather Michael Kors tote over her shoulder. Prior to living in Texas, you lived in New York City and had created quite the collection of designer clothes and accessories thanks mostly to your ex-fiancé. Since moving, you found very little use for most of it and your style evolved to one that was much more relaxed and comfortable. More you.

"Keep it," you told her as you opened up a box of your bathroom things. She gawked at you while you began to drag the box towards the bathroom, already smiling to yourself as you thought about Joel seeing all the girly face masks and perfumes cluttering his once rather masculine space.

"Are you serious?"

You glanced up at her and shrugged. "Sure. I haven't used it in a year and I have plenty more. It's all yours."

"Oh, my god," she murmured, holding the bag close to her chest. "Thank you!"

You grinned and pulled out bottles of shampoo and conditioner. "Don't mention it."

There was a loud thud that came from the basement and you both froze, waiting to hear panicked calls for help, but after a moment laughter erupted amongst the men and you both exchanged looks of relief.

"I bet Dad that Uncle Tommy would be the one to hurt himself," she told you, crouching to help unpack more of your toiletries.

You laughed and shook your head. "You're probably right."

Glancing at the time, you stood up and weaved your way through the boxes littering the floor to grab your wallet laying on the bed.

"Would you mind calling in a couple pizzas for delivery?" you asked Sarah, handing her your credit card. She nodded and patted down her pants.

"Shoot. I think I left my phone in my room," she said as she headed towards the door. "Ronny's Pizza, right?"

"Yeah, that's good," you called after her before stubbing your toe on a half empty cardboard box. "Shit," you muttered angrily, then squat down to scoop up what was left in the box and get it out of your way.

Wrestling with an armful of socks and bras, you carefully made your way to the dresser and yanked open a drawer. You mistakenly had opened Joel's underwear drawer instead of the one he had emptied for you, but right as you were about to close it, something caught your eye. Was that...? Slowly, you reached forward and nudged a pair of boxers out of the way so you could get a better look.

Your eyes went wide and your heart jumped into your throat when you saw the small, black velvet box nestled between his things. The fingers holding up the pair of underwear began to shake and you nervously swallowed the lump in your throat.

Maybe it was a class ring.

Maybe it was a piece of his mom's jewelry he saved for Sarah.

Or maybe it was a fucking engagement ring.

You heard creaking on the stairs and you quickly dropped the boxers back over the box and slammed the drawer shut. By the time Joel entered the room, you had successfully found your drawer and were halfway done putting your clothes away.

"Hey, darlin'," he murmured, sidling up behind you. He buried his nose in your shoulder and slowly circled his arms around your waist.

"Hey, yourself," you replied, hoping your voice sounded normal and he couldn't feel your heart slamming in your chest. Already got the ring he had said to you drunkenly the night before your sister gave birth. "How are things going down there?" you asked, trying to refocus and get your mind off what you just saw.

Joel breathed in deep and began to sway you both back and forth. "Good. Everythin's all set. Got a nice man cave set up now."

You giggled and closed your drawer before turning around in his arms. "Man cave, huh?"

"That's right," he said softly with a grin. "Gonna be great in 'nother month when football season starts."

"I don't know, I think Sarah was already making plans to have her girlfriends over down there. Might cramp your man cave style," you told him, arms draping loosely around his neck.

"'S'alright, I just give her a hundred bucks and let her borrow the car and then it's all mine," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against your throat. "Be nice to have some privacy down there, too," he added, tilting his head in the other direction so he could give the other side of your neck the same attention.

"Yeah? Privacy for what?" you teased, chin lifting up to give him better access. You felt him chuckle against your skin.

"For anythin' we want," he replied, tearing his mouth away from your shoulder so he could brush his lips gently over yours.

"Mmm, like board games?" you asked, giggling when his lips froze and his face pulled away, giving you a look of disbelief.

"Is that what we're callin' it?"

You nodded and stretched onto your tiptoes so you could kiss him again.

"Okay, the pizza'll be here - oh. Gross," Sarah said when she appeared in the doorway. You pulled away and grinned while Joel looked over his shoulder with a frown.

"Gross?" he repeated, voice laced with disgust. "Seein' me happy is gross?"

Sarah rolled her eyes as she navigated the minefield of boxes in the room to hand you back your credit card. "Is this what it's gonna be like now? You guys sucking face in every room?"

"Hate to tell you, kiddo, but it's always been that way," you told her as you dropped your arms from around Joel's neck to take your card back.

"Pizza?" he questioned excitedly as if he just processed what Sarah said, and you nodded.

"Figured you guys would be hungry."

Joel groaned in delight and wrapped his arms around you once again, making you laugh.

"Alright, gimme a second to leave at least," Sarah said, turning towards the door as quickly as possible, but not before you caught the smile on her face.

"Hey, can I give you a hand?" Tommy asked as he entered your kitchen. You could hear Josh, your father, Sarah and Joel laughing in the living room with the television on in the background.

"Oh, Tommy, that's so sweet but I got it. You've done so much already today, thank you for your help," you said with a smile as you continued to clean up the pizza. Tommy leaned against the counter and watched you move around his brother's kitchen like you had been there your whole life, and he couldn't help but smile.

"You look right at home already," he told you, making your cheeks warm. You pulled out some foil and shrugged.

"I've stayed over a couple times, what can I say?"

He chuckled and continued to watch you work quietly for a moment.

"Say, what'dya think 'bout you and Joel goin' on a double date with me and Maria?"

"Oh, I would love that!" you exclaimed, meeting his gaze briefly as you moved towards the fridge. "Must be getting serious if you're ready to introduce her to family, huh?"

"Yeah, I think so," Tommy said, shyly looking down at the tile floor. "She's so pretty. Smart, too. And funny. We have such a great time together. I'll tell you, I ain't ever remember feelin' this way 'bout a girl before."

Your jaw hung open in shock after you turned away from the closed fridge. "Tommy! This is... amazing!"

He scratched the back of his neck and grinned. "Yeah, it is," he agreed warmly.

"He botherin' you, baby?" Joel asked as he strolled into the kitchen with a beer in his hand. He shot you a wink right after Tommy gave him the finger.

"I was just telling Tommy we should go on a double date with him and Maria," you said, leaning into the hug he gave you. Tommy gave you a thumbs up behind Joel's back and you smiled over his shoulder, knowing intuitively that his brother would tease him mercilessly if he knew Tommy was the one with the idea instead of you.

"Oh, yeah?" Joel asked, pulling back to look at Tommy. He nodded.

"Yeah, sounds like fun. Maybe grab some drinks down at Mike's. Play some pool."

"Alright. Set it up, can't wait to meet her," Joel told him before squeezing past you to get another beer from the refrigerator.

The men spent another hour or so relaxing in the living room while you and Sarah did the best you could to clear up the remaining boxes in your bedroom. You did rather well, too. By the time everyone was ready to say good night, you only had two boxes left, both of which you stacked and shoved into a corner to deal with the next day.

You were looking forward to collapsing into bed after a long, eventful day when Sarah asked if she could go to the movies with a few of her friends.

"Please, Dad? School starts up in a couple weeks," she begged, and Joel didn't have the heart to tell her she didn't need to bother to beg. He handed her some money from his wallet and she rushed up to her bedroom to get ready, announcing her friend Katy would pick her up in twenty minutes.

"Strange how Katy knew to pick her up before I said it was alright," Joel told you with a fake look of confusion. You laughed and plopped next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder while he flipped through the channels on the television.

You wrapped your hand around his bicep and snuggled in closer as he wavered back and forth between two different action movies. When you really thought about it, it was funny. Your life was so different just a year ago. You were engaged to someone else, living in New York City, wearing expensive clothes and dining at restaurants you didn't really care for but your fiancé did, so you pretended to like them, too. Now you were living a completely different life. One of comfort and love and joy and you had never felt happier.

As if he could read your mind, Joel lifted his arm and tugged you closer by the shoulders, then planted a kiss on the top of your head, further emphasizing how perfect your life seemed now.

"I'm coming downstairs now! Stop making out!" Sarah warned as she stomped down the steps. You stifled your laughter and Joel shot her a scowl.

"We're just watchin' TV."

"And I'm just covering my bases," she said with a grin, holding her hands up in surrender. A faint beep came from the road and she grabbed the purse you had given her earlier that day and said, "don't wait up!" over her shoulder before the door clicked shut.

"Don't wait up?" Joel repeated with a snort. "She's seventeen goin' on thirty."

You giggled and gazed up at him from your place against his side. "You wanna play some board games?"

He looked confused for a moment before the realization dawned on him.

"Hell, yes."

The basement looked nicer than you expected. It wasn't completely finished but there was an area Joel had built a wall around and painted years ago. He had installed a drop ceiling and some laminate flooring but he never got around to actually doing much else with it until you moved in and had extra furniture. An area rug from your old apartment was in the center of the room, your old couch resting on top and your television was placed on your entertainment center across from the sofa. You had some floor lamps and end tables you could arrange in the space later on but for now, it was nice.

But all that didn't really matter that particular day. Not when your shorts dangled around one ankle, which was slung over the back of the couch, your legs spread wide as Joel kneeled on the area rug, his fingers gripping your hips as his tongue feverishly lapped at your pussy.

"Fuck, Joel... I'm close," you whined, hand clawing at his hair, your hips grinding shamelessly against his face. He just groaned, eyes fluttering closed as he drank you in, your scent engulfing him, absolutely loving the way you fell apart under his tongue.

"Joel," you gasped, mouth hung open as your gaze fixed on the top of his head. "Joel, d-do t-that thing-" you moaned loudly, cutting yourself off when he repeatedly grazed his teeth over your clit while working two fingers into your cunt, curling them so they pressed against that one spot he knew drove you crazy each time he dragged them in and out.

A moment later, your body went rigid and tears sprung to your eyes as you came, ragged groans melting into quiet little whimpers until he finally pulled away from the center of your thighs. His eyes were dark and wild as he panted for air, watching you with a cocky smirk as you struggled to come to your senses.

"Gonna let me fuck you now, baby?" he murmured, his pants already pushed halfway down his legs. You nodded in a daze, thighs trembling still when he stepped out of his jeans and kneeled onto the couch. He hovered over you, pressing his thick length against your pussy while he bent forward to bite and suck at your throat.

You gasped sharply and grabbed his shoulders when he first entered you. The initial stretch always took your breath away, regardless if he made you come first or not. You came to crave that feeling, those first few seconds of intrusion that made your mind go blank and your heart stutter before your body made room for him and relaxed. And because you knew he loved to hear it, your mouth found his ear and you whimpered, "so big," and you smiled when you heard his responding growl.

A few days before you moved in with Joel, you laid awake at night in your apartment, thinking back to your relationship before him. When you moved in with Will, it seemed like something shifted almost immediately, and not in a good way. The spark fizzled out as you adjusted to living with one another, putting up with each other's quirks and bad habits. Logically, you knew that spark was dying before you moved in together but at the time, you didn't want to admit it. But anxiety still crept up and you wondered if the same thing would happen with Joel.

What a stupid thing to worry about.

What you had with Joel was so different, it was hard to describe. But it was a feeling, something deep inside that couldn't be denied. This was special. This was unlike anything you ever experienced before and it was foolish to try to compare it to anything else.

As if you needed further proof, Joel sensed your mind had drifted elsewhere and he nipped at your lower lip to draw your attention back to him.

"What's wrong?" he whispered when you met his gaze. His hips had slowed down, worried you were uncomfortable and didn't want to say it. You slowly smiled and draped your arms around his neck, looking up at him with such love and adoration that he couldn't stop himself from smiling in return.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect," you told him. You tugged him down so you could give him a kiss, then mumbled, "you're perfect," against his mouth.

Joel flushed and shook his head gently, resuming his steady pace. Sometimes he had a hard time believing you were real. He spent a good chunk of his adult life thinking he would never find true love and after a few years of loneliness, he grew to accept that. He threw himself into his work and focused on raising Sarah but when he met you, it was like everything changed. He couldn't stop thinking about you to the point where he would have been content with just getting to know you better, but the moment he first felt your lips against his, he knew he didn't stand a chance. But when he first made love to you, it was all over. He knew within seconds he could never let you go, and he never did.

"You're the one who's perfect. God, so fuckin' tight," he groaned, flexing his hips with a little more force. You rewarded him with a sweet little moan and tipped your head back into the couch. "That feel good, baby?" he breathed, watching with pride as you writhed underneath him.

"Yeah," you whispered before sinking your teeth into your lower lip, skin already red and sensitive from where his own teeth had laid claim. "Again. Harder, Joel," you pleaded, and his eyelids fluttered as he tried to slow down his own orgasm that was already growing all too quickly.

He gave you what you wanted, hips snapping into yours roughly. Your whole body rocked beneath him, breasts bouncing free under your thin T-shirt, jaw slack and back arched so beautifully he had to look away before he came too soon.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whined, face pinching as he forced another orgasm to the surface with each powerful thrust.

"You like that?" he murmured, his dark eyes raking over your body greedily. "Tell me, baby. C'mon, wanna hear it."

"Yes," you whimpered, eyes still screwed shut, "feel so fucking good, Joel, fuck... so... so deep, I want more." You took in a deep breath, your release so close you could taste it. "More... don't stop, please... I-I need..." you were rambling now, unable to form a full sentence, barely aware you were saying anything at all and fuck, did he love being the one to make you do that. Make you lose control and give in, putting all your faith and trust in him to give you what you want. To make you feel good.

"I know what you need," he said through gritted teeth, then grabbed ahold of your hip and ground himself roughly against your cunt. Your eyes flew open and he smiled when you cried out, clenching around him after only two or three passes over your clit.

You were whispering his name mixed with something else incoherent as you came down and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He slammed into you over and over, eyes fixed on the way your pussy strained around his girth, his cock all shiny and slick with your arousal and he came with a loud groan, thrusting into you deep and slow until he was spent.

His arms began to tremble so he slowly lowered himself down to rest the side of his head against your chest and instantly, your hands came up to card through his hair. He sighed and closed his eyes, soaking in your gentle touch as his heart began to slow.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" you asked softly, fingers still threading through his curls.

"Yeah, I do," Joel replied, eyes still shut as he nuzzled into your chest.

"Good. Me, too."

Maria was fun.

You knew immediately you would get along. Her sense of humor and her carefree attitude completely contradicted her profession as a newly appointed Assistant District Attorney, and you absolutely loved how full of surprises she was, especially how good she was at pool.

"Y'know, we just let you girls win," Joel teased when he put his pool cue down.

"Oh, yeah? Is that why I heard you and Tommy talking strategy on my way back from the bathroom?" you shot back. He grinned and tugged you into his chest, kissing the crown of your head before releasing you.

"C'mon, Tommy. Losers buy the next round," he said, giving his younger brother a playful shove. Tommy squeezed Maria's hand and gave her a warm smile before following Joel to the bar, leaving just you two to find an empty table. Maria spotted one right when a group of four were standing up to leave and she grabbed your arm, practically dragging you across the crowded floor to snag it before someone else did.

"Good eye!" you told her when you slid into the booth, the green, plastic cushion underneath you essentially useless after years of being flattened and never replaced. The table was sticky from spilled beer and droplets of hot sauce, so you each got to work yanking handfuls of napkins out of the dispenser at the end of the table and squirting hand sanitizer over the tabletop to clean the area as best you could.

"I don't think Tommy told me how long you two've been together," Maria said, her eyes lifting to search the bar for your dates.

"Uh, eight months or so," you told her, "we met right before Christmas."

She raised her eyebrows and smiled. "I would have guessed much longer. It feels like you know each other so well."

You could feel your cheeks warm from the compliment. It was clear to you what you had with Joel was special but it was always nice to hear others could see it, too.

"What about you and Tommy? He's been keeping you a secret but I want to guess... two months?"

"Three, actually," she corrected you. "We both agreed to take things slow. I had just gotten this job and I knew I would be putting in long hours, I wasn't really sure if I had the time to devote to a relationship but he stuck it out. I really thought he was going to bail when I kept having to call it early so many nights and cancel dates last minute but he's a trooper."

You leaned across the table and wiggled your eyebrows at her. "That's 'cause he really likes you."

She giggled and waved you off but you could see the delight in her eyes.

"I'm serious! I've only known him for as long as I've known Joel but from what I was told, Tommy didn't bring girls around often. Especially lately. You must be special," you teased, making her smile widen.

Unbeknownst to you, across the bar, Tommy and Joel were having a similar conversation.

Now that Tommy had a few beers in him, he was more open to telling his brother about Maria and how happy he was with her.

"I'm tellin' you, Joel, I think she's the one," he was saying, slamming down an empty shot glass next to Joel's on the messy bar top.

"I like her, she keeps you in line," Joel quipped, taking a sip from his beer to chase the shot of whiskey. "Girls are gettin' along real good, too."

Tommy nodded and looked across the bar. "And how's things goin' with you two? She wanna move out yet?"

Joel laughed and shook his head. "Nah, it's only been two weeks. It'll probably take at least a month 'fore she realizes she made a mistake," he joked.

Tommy chuckled but caught the fond look in Joel's eye when he thought about you.

"So, you think this is it for us?" he asked, and Joel glanced up from his beer. "We finally found the ones?"

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk and he nodded.

"Hope so." Then maybe he was feeling a little braver, or maybe it was the alcohol, but he added, "got the ring already, be a little tough tryin' to take it back."

Tommy's eyes bugged out of his head. "You - what?"

Joel sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Yep. Had it for a while now. Asked Paul 'n everythin'."

Tommy's mouth opened and closed like a fish, completely stunned.

"And Sarah?"

He nodded and took a nervous sip from his bottle. "Talked to her, too. She's thrilled."

Tommy broke out into a huge grin and tugged Joel into a quick hug before pulling away and giving him a playful shoulder shove. "So when are you gonna do it?"

Joel sighed and looked around. "I don't know. When it feels right, I suppose."

"Shit," Tommy replied, rubbing his chin. "Gonna be a hell of a year."

Joel nodded and looked down at your drinks sitting on the bar. "We oughta go find the girls."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed, shaking his head like he was snapping out of a trance. He reached for Maria's drink while Joel grabbed yours but before they began to weave their way through the bar, Tommy stopped him.

"Congrats, brother. I'm happy for you."

"She didn't say yes yet," Joel reminded him with a raised eyebrow, but Tommy just shrugged.

"She will."

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[anakinsdove]

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞 «𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐»

pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader

summary: it's been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he's still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn't there before.

C/W: nsfw, fluff, loser Sammy, riding, tit sucking, lose of virginity (sam’s) subby!sam

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 1-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 2,149

“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” Your voice echoes in his mind… he swears time is passing slower that it’s meant to because god’s teasing him and also, he has never hate James as much as he does in this moment, he doesnt show signs of being sleepy and its already 12:00 AM, if he’s not asleep by 2:00 AM he’s gonna lose his fucking chance to be with you, it’s probably the only chance he’ll ever get… and he really really wants to be with you… ever since he heard Josh Dickens gave you a kiss in elementary school because fuck… that had to be him

When you kicked Matt because he pushed him, then Matt pulled your pigtails and made you cry so he brought you a muffin his mom baked as in sincere thank you for defending him… He’s been in love with you since forever, even when you went away, soon his morning woods were because of the sex dreams of you and not the models in his dirty magazines, You you You, you….

And when you knelt down in front of him and unbuckled his belt expertly he knew it was over for him, you were his and he’ll do whatever you wanted him to do, fuck he hated himself for cumming so soon, because that moment could’ve last longer, he hated himself because he wanted to go again but he was so sensitive… the way your teeth gently grazed his cock-

“Dude! Are you serious?” James yelled and his face goes pale, can James read his mind suddenly? “You’re hard” Sam panicked and covered himself with a pillow “Fuck off!” James rolls his eyes and goes back to his game… Sam can’t take this anymore, he stands up and goes to the bathroom, your room is right down the hall, it looks so tempting yet so scary at the same time.. before he can stop himself hes standing at your door where he can take a peak of you, he knows it’s not 2:00 AM yet, and he doesn’t want you to think he can’t follow basic instructions but… fuck…he imagines your voice calling for him, telling him you need him, to please you, to fuck you, to take you so fucking good, to tell him you need him right between your legs… he imagines your taste, your thighs suffocating him but he wouldn’t mind… he would’ve never mind.

He watches your toy with the cord of the phone as you talk about to someone on the phone, he wonders who it is… one of your friends? Your ex? The next boy you’re going to fuck after you ruin him tonight?… and again before he can stop it his hand is down his pants as he grips his hard on… painfully hard til he releases as shaky breath… now your voice sounds incomprehensible, he observes your chest rise and fall with every breathe you take, the way you’re laughing at someone’s voice and the way you kick your feet in such a girly way, he smiles…

He’s a pervert, he knows it but he doesn’t really mind right now, your pajamas shorts are so sexy to him, the fabric looks so delicate, fragile, like he could tear them apart and slide his cock right between your folds, all puffy and wet for him… he bangs his head against the wall and bites his lip hard to suppress a moan, his hand moves up and down at a fast peace, he knows he doesn’t have much time

He’s so close, so so close, just like the loser he is he’s always close and his hips chase his hand desperately, his brow furrowed as he breathes heavily against the wall

Then you make eye contact with him

His eyes squeezed shut when he came, he just ruined his only pair of boxers and his hand is sticky as fuck…. And he hears your step getting closer…

“Oh Sammy..” your voice is condescending as you eye him up cutely… when suddenly you close the door, leaving him outside like a dog in heat, Sam squeezes his eyes again in embarrassment as he runs to the bathroom to clean up himself.

1:39 AM

James seems to be about to go to sleep, that’s a good thing for sure, it finally looks like he’s about to get what he desperately needs, yet… he seems to be confused by your hot and awkward interaction, were you just teasing him? Or it meant something more? You looked at him like you finally realized he’s a loser who doesn’t deserve to fuck you… but maybe you didn’t, maybe you were just being cocky about finding him that position… with his fucking hand under his pants, any girl would’ve thrown him out, beat him up, but you didn’t… he knows he deserves it but you didn’t… he feels more and more head over heels as he thinks about all the possible out comes tonight has.

He’s outside your door again at 1:58 AM, waiting impatiently as the clock tickling mocks him, it certainly feels like it… he doesn’t know whether he should knock now or wait two more minutes… however you put his mind at ease when you suddenly open the door and pull him inside.

“Just in time” your breathless tone makes his toes curl

“Really-“ your lips press into his, this is something you could call a kiss, is intense, it’s everything both of you need it to be… his greedy hands grips your boobs like any stupid boy would do, you think he’s bold for doing this tho.

“Feeling confident aren’t you?” And well his confidence is definitely gone now at your mean words, spat like venom, he wants more of that… “You want me…. As much as I want you” his voice doesn’t so sure

“Ok and?” You kiss him again guiding him towards your bed, the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls down with you ok top of him, this time his hands rest on your waist, not daring to touch anywhere else just yet.

“…Sam…..” Oh fuck she’s regretting it “You’re absolutely sure you want to do this with me? I get it if you’d want to wait for the right girl” You’re the right gir! It’s fucking you! It always has been! “Positive” You grin at his words and just like you did a few hours ago you decide to go for his neck again… the hickeys you gave him are still there, he’s surprised James didn’t even notice… any one would’ve pieced it instantly… his breathe heaves “I’m gonna take off your shirt” he sits up so you can do whatever you want to him… “Sam…” “Huh?” “You can take my clothes off too…” he nods shakily as he exhales, everything feels like a very complex task right now… he takes the hem of your shirt thank top and lifts it off your body, he takes a moment to admire your skin, any marks, moles, scars, he wants to remember this moment, to keep it engraved in his mind, because this might be the last time.

“Do you know how to undo my bra?” His silence gives it away “It’s okay let me just-“ Your breast mesmerize him that’s for sure, he’s instantly attracted to them as his hands touch your soft skin, his thumbs grazing your nipples softly “You’re so fucking pretty” he breathes out “Yeah?” “So fucking perfect” his words are genuine… you know it, something shifts inside you like a switch that tells you Make it special and you will… “You’re so prettty Sam…” his brows furrowed and his mouth falls open as he sees your hands toying with his belt again… all over again.

You successfully remove his pants and realize his shirt is still on… “You wanna take that off?” Sam nods, you never take your gaze away from him, he’s pale, his skin looks very smooth regardless, his collarbones are prominent, he’s beautiful.. you can’t help it but touch his piercing in his chin.

“Does this hurt?” He chuckles… “No, not really” “Reaaaally? Or were you just really brave about it?” You tickle his ribs, his boyish giggle fills your ears and that sound will be forever engraved in your mind… this won’t be a random hookup, this is more than that, and even if that thought scares you you decide to push it to the back of your mind for now… wait he’s also wearing eyeliner it looks so good with his already smudge eyeshadow

“Okay… uh… do you want me to ride you?” YES YES YES yet he just nods impatiently, he wouldn’t want to miss the chance of you bouncing on his cock, breaking his legs as he sucks on your gorgeous tits, you already suck his soul out, so why not also break his legs.

You remove your panties and his boxers… Sam touches the bow on your panties to confirm you’re real and this is happening, his gaze follows your body from your pussy to you eyes “It’s okay… I don’t care if you don’t last long, I want you to enjoy this” you’re an angel sent from heaven

“Im-I’m gonna put it in” you hover over him and your nails graze his tip deliciously, he lays back on your pillows

And when you slide it in….

“Fuck!” His legs tremble and you whine, he’s big he’s so fucking big…. Why’s this loser so fucking big? Sam hisses as he lays back, throwing his head back Fuck fuck fuck why is she so fucking warm he breathes heavily as he squirms, his brows furrow prettily “it’s okay Sam…. It’s okay breathe baby” “You’re so fucking wet!” “Yes Sammy… so fucking wet, does it feel good?” He nodds, his eyes are still closed, his hands grip your thighs desperately… you think he might make himself bleed with how hard he’s biting his lip… you decide to put his hands to use and guide them to your tits.

Sam grips them instantly as you roll your head back, “I’m gonna start moving okay?” “I’m not gonna last..” you roll your eyes and start grinding against him, your clit rubs deliciously against his pubes… he sits up, his hands go straight to grip your ass guiding you up and down… fine… you start bouncing… bouncing on his cock like he always dreamed of, your fucking pussy is so tight.

Sam breathes heavily against your chest, you tits in full display to him, he can’t help himself, he just can’t, they’re bouncing right in front of his face as your hips ride him expertly, his lips latch to your nipple and he manhandles your other boob… you hate to admit it but that sight is doing more for you than you can explain… you cry out and your fingers travel down to your pussy as you rub you clit fastly and uncoordinated, you know he’s close and you want to cum with him

“Sam! S-Sam fuck fuck-“ he removes your hand and rubs your clit himself, his touch is too rough, almost painful yet heavenly, his eyes are scrunched tightly, his mouth falls open releasing your nipple, his moans are no longer muffled, they’re loud, they’re so fucking loud, his hands attempt to help you ride him faster and then you see it

He’s crying

It’s so intense it’s so fucking intense, the type of pleasure his hand could never provide him, no matter how much lube he uses… what he’s fucking- it’s just not… and he’s a mess, he’s sweating and his cheap eyeliner is running down his cheeks

“Yes Sammy.. c-cum for me.. I can feel you’re close- you’re fucking pulsating inside me!”

the pressure building in his belly snaps and it’s all fireworks and stars flashing behind his eyes… his belly twitches as he fills you up “Ah.. Ah! Yes!” You’re not far behind him… your orgasm is powerful, it’s gonna leave you shaking… sam spasms as you keep riding him just a little more.. his eyes open when you collapse on top of him.

“Oh my fucking god” Sam laughs and you wonder what’s so funny “W-what?” “People do this everyday?” He looks dreamy as he pushes your hair behind your ear “I guess…” you giggle “I thought you were trying to kill me…” he laughs “I was” “Yeah?” “Wanted to see how much you can take-“ he interrupts you with a kiss

“What was that for?” “Well we just made love” Sam’s says sarcastically “made love?” You laughs at his cute explanation “You just fucked the shit out of me…” “And your soul out of you..” “Yeah… that too” Sam smiles brightly “Are you okay?” You ask him he can only nod, he’s so happy.

“So… what if now…. I just cuddle the shit out of you?”

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

[y13evie]

I crawled out of a coma for this

You know thats future man clip of Josh hutcherson jerking off? Imagine that with Mike and reader walks in ANNNDDD he’s all subby maybe even gets edged 😋😋

jae i love u so much i missed you

tags: fuck this is driving me crazy, absolutely pure filth. there is nothing sfw about this. afab!reader. dacryphilia maybe + the tiniest blood

mike had the house to himself. his whines and empty pleas rang throughout the home. he wasn’t usually this needy, but god he hadn’t seen you in so long and his cock was just so achy and leaky in his jeans. he couldn’t take it. he tried to at least go slowly. pumping his cock at a reasonable pace, swiping his thumb over his slit at the tip of his cock for an extra wave of pleasure. he tried so hard to be patient, imaging your voice telling him to not be so needy. but he couldn’t help himself and began wildly grinding his hips into his hand, imagining it was you.

what the brunette failed to realize is that you had walked into his home a few minutes ago. you heard his cries and whines, each of them going straight to your core. after another agonizing minute you decided to make your presence be known. you walk up to his door and slowly open it to realize the heavenly sight.

“mike?”. your eyes hold a false innocence, knowing full well you had savored his pleas up until this moment. his teary eyes batted up at you. his eyelashes barely hiding his doe eyes. mikes chest was heaving and his head was leaned up against the wall. his thick cock was drooling beads of pre coating his hand and length. his tip was bright pink, begging for attention.

“i need you so, so bad.” those six words were all you needed. your lips make quick contact with his, the kiss was sloppy. he lips swollen from his teeth digging into them combined with his never ending whines. your tongue smoothly found his way into his mouth, he didn’t even begin to try and fight for dominance. he was putty under your touch right now. before pulling away your tongue glided over his bottom lip, tasting the metallic remnants of blood from his biting. he whined. you held the palm of your hand out and mike immediately knew what to do. he spat in your hand and guided your wrist to his neglected cock.

you started of slow knowing that he was sensitive and not wanting to overstimulate him, yet. you began to quicken your pace after noticing mike had become accustomed to your slower one. his big round eyes batted up at you once more, this time tears spilt from them. he watched you stroke him with his mouth slightly open, eyes never leaving you. you opened your mouth to let some drool fall onto his already drenched cock. this sent him over the edge. he held your hand in place and began fucking up into your hand. you let him, knowing you weren’t gonna let him get away with it so easily. his cries got louder and he pulled you towards him, lips animalisticly taking your own. you knew he was close. so just when you believed he was gonna cum, you snatch your hand away. he lips left yours, only leaving a string so saliva connecting you two.

“baby please.” tears began to fall again. “you can’t do this to me, not right now. needa cum so bad, please.”. his eyes were pleading you.

“m’ sorry baby, you gotta beg. you know better than to fuck yourself using me without asking first.” your hand cupped his face, wiping away his tears. you know how pent up he was, the way is cock was leaking so badly, and the way you could see it throbbing against his happy trail.

“pleasepleaseplease let me cum. i won’t do it again- ngh, promise baby. just please- let me feel you.” he sniffled back his tears while begging for release. you couldn’t deny him any longer.

“you’re so good for me, my sweet boy”.

your hand make it’s way back onto his length, resuming the pace you originally set. mike reached his high quickly, reducing him to a whiny mess while you helped him ride out his orgasm. huge white spurts of cum painted his tummy and your hand. you let his breathing come back to normal before peeling your hand off his softening cock. mike picked up a towel from the floor and wiped both you and himself off before leading you to his bed. you immediately felt comfortable in the familiar bed. he found his way into your arms, one of the only ways he can fall asleep.

“i love you so much”, he sleepily mumbles into your neck. you give his temple a loving kiss.

“i love you too, mike. you know i’ll always take care of you.”

[glaciertea]

Spiders are some very freaky sex deviants. Just a little something on how I think Miguel would let a couple of those spider sensations come out during sexy times.

My first time trying a drabble. I'm not used to writing something short like this, but here I go~

Word count: 608

CW: 18+, oral pleasure (F receiving), light bondage, not proof read

Divder by the @thecutestgrotto

You've been wanting to incorporate some of the spider mating rituals you read about, simply because you were curious. You remember easing your findings during dinner, catching him a bit off guard.

“Is this what you do during your off days and when I'm not around?”

“Always good to know random trivia.” You chuckled nervously, taking a bite out of the takeout in front.

Miguel was silent for a bit, not easing your anxiousness at all. Maybe curiosity did kill the cat, well, the spider in this case. Ready to laugh it off, pretending that you were joshing around, he sighed out. 

“Alright. Tell me what you learned.”

That startled you. You weren't expecting that. You were already delving into the rabbit hole of if what you did was overstepping boundaries, but he tapped the table and called your name.

“Will you tell me, or do you prefer to have it demonstrated hands on?”

So he confirmed your intrigued nature. You decided to not tell him, but act out how the female spider would act out during these said rituals. Getting ready and prepared in the bathroom then settled on the bed. You didn't alert him when he could come in, instead you sat there and waited for him to come, waited for him to come to you.

He didn't move from the living room for almost five minutes, when he got a whiff of the Sol de Janeiro Cheirosa 59. You only pulled that out for special occasions, so tonight was extra special. Trekking to the room, he opens the door, but doesn't stick his head through.

“Mi reina? Everything okay?” Miguel croaked out. 

“Hm, is that a prey or something more?” You hum out, earning a groan for him.

Miguel taps the door a couple of times, alerting you that he wants to mate, and you signal him to come in. Miguel walks in, but stands there, and refuses to move an inch, eyeing you in your silky, short nightgown. You remember that some female spiders have to approach the male, and slide yourself off, but tantalizingly slow. You swore you already saw a drop of a sweat roll down his forehead. 

Standing in front, Miguel began to stroke your face down to your breasts, your curves, stomach, and hips. His pupils are huge and before you know it, you find yourself on your back of the mattress, legs spread apart with Miguel making out with your exposed cunt.

He usually takes his time, but tonight, it was a whole other ballgame. You did read that there are spiders that like to give oral, and Miguel was no stranger to it.

His tongue whirling like a maniac, jutting in and out and picking up the pace whenever you felt your walls clamp around it. Your legs could barely move because Miguel held them down. You got an idea and started to try and close. Sometimes male spiders like to bind the female spider, not enough to keep her immobilized, but to ease. 

So why not test it out?

You used a bit of strength to push his grip when you heard the famous thwip, and sure enough, you were tied to the bed. His mouth was glistening with his spit and juices, and his eyes had a primal glare. 

“Shh, don't worry, relax, relax. I got you.” Miguel leaned back down, mouth wide open and went right back to eating you out. The way his jaw was opening and closing at an insane speed on your vulva had you seeing the multiverse.

Now you needed to dig deeper on what else freaky things spiders are into.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 28

Mike Schmidt + Desperation

I watched the fnaf movie and my love for Josh Hutcherson is revived.

A shorty, as I have about three times more homework this week than normal, expected to be finished in the same amount of time as normal.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

Mikes grip was shaky and clammy as he grasped at your shoulders, his brown eyes begging as you pressed your palm against his mouth to keep him quiet. Even as his eyes rolled back and he shuddered as he ground his hips down into you, muffled shaky moans leaving him as his breathing grew even more uneven.

He always got like this when he hadn’t been able to sleep for a while, when his medication had run out and they wouldn’t give him a new prescription until the next month. He needed something to put him to sleep, he had tried anything from different teas to workouts or meditation, but nothing seemed to work as great as your cock.

Mike had a hard time accepting it though, always trying out many other things to put him to sleep before he finally couldn’t take it anymore. He would always hesitate, before throwing his leg over your hips and grab at your chest with a shuddering grasp, exhaustion hanging in his movements and the desperation in his eyes almost unbearable.

He would kiss at your neck, carefully scraping his teeth against the flesh before soothing the area with his tongue, tiny needy huffs and whimpers leaving him as he would start rolling his hips down into you, already hard and aching and so very needy.

If that didn’t wake you up, Mike always found himself leaning over and shuffling through the bedside table for whatever bottle of lube you guys had laying around, kicking off his boxers in the process. His needy noises would only gain a newer level of desperation as he would start opening himself up, his mouth open as he struggled to stay at a manageable level.

This was typically when you would wake up, eyes blinking open to Mike above you, hair ruffled and eyes shiny with tears of desperation as he would move his fingers in and out of himself, his bottom lip red from how much he had been biting at it. Mike would almost keen as you grab his hips of thighs to roll them down into yours once more, so you made sure to shush him in an almost teasing manner.

Tiny breathless begs leave him as you kick off your boxers, slicking yourself up with the lube Mike had been using earlier, his grip returning to your shoulders as you pulled him down onto you. A loud groan almost leaves him, until you clamp a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, his eyes growing wide and even needier, if that is even possible.

Your hand stays over his mouth, even has he rides you quicker and harder, his pace seeming to grow the more desperate he becomes, his noises and whimpers muffled against your palm. Sometimes you’d even be able to feel drool against your palm as his mouth would crack open, or his tongue would lap at your hand.

It was only when he was like this that he got whiny like this, where his noises would become high pitched in a way you thought was impossible, but here he was, bouncing on your dick and sounding like it was the best feeling in his life.

You know he’s close when his movements start growing uneven, hips grinding down into your as you press against his prostate, before withdrawing maybe halfway before forcing himself down once again to feel the flares of pleasure again. His eyes would also roll back more than usual, at times you would worry he would go blind from how far back his eyes seemed roll.

Especially when he would cum, a flare of pain would flash through your arm as Mike digs his teeth into your palm to muffle his own noises, hips twitching and jolting as the tears that had been gathering in his eyes finally spill over. Mike would whimper and whine, and if you didn’t have to worry about volume, it wouldn’t surprise you if he would have howled.

After cumming, Mike would still keep riding you, though you could tell exhaustion was starting to catch up as his movements grow sluggish, but he would want you to finish inside him like always. So, with a few deep thrusts, you would fill him up with clenched teeth to keep yourself quiet. You can’t even find it in yourself to complain as Mike collapses against your chest, asleep before you can even pull out. You would do your best to clean the two of you up, but you had learned after the first time that you couldn’t get all of it until the next morning.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Hi! So I just had this idea while listening to the song Mistletoe by Justin Bieber.

Imagine being on set for tbosas during Christmas time and someone from the crew or cast (like Rachel and Josh) put up Mistletoe’s here and there and then discreetly, but very much on purpose, got you and Tom to walk under them to film your reaction to it and take a few pictures!

Mistletoe || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!!!!!! Hope u enjoy this cute lil fic :)

Warnings: noneeee

Wc: 654

Divider by @pommecita

As you stepped into the set where you would come filming for the day—Tom trailing behind you—a festive atmosphere filled the air. The set was adorned with twinkling lights, and the crew members were dressed up in festive clothes.

Set seemed to radiate happiness, and the air buzzed with the delightful energy of people in high spirits. It was your first time filming a project during Christmas so it was both exciting and new to you.

You spot Josh and Rachel wearing Santa hats, exchanging cheerful greetings with the crew. “Everyone’s in the spirit,” You chuckle as Tom comes up behind you, slotting his arm around your shoulder as you wave to people.

“Mhm, couldn’t agree more- Is that Viola in a grinch costume-“ Tom couldn’t even finish his sentence before the two of you start bursting out in laughter at the sight. You pull Tom with you as you walk towards her.

“Oh my god, this is amazing,” You squeal, whipping out your phone as you snap pictures with her as you could hear her laughter from inside the suit. You and Tom posed with Viola as you make a mental note to post a christmas on set dump on your insta.

As you and Tom continue your way through the set, you noticed mistletoe strategically placed here and there. The mischievous glint in the crew’s eyes hinted at a playful plan. You couldn’t help but smile, wondering what surprises awaited.

After filming a few scenes here and there, you and Tom sat on one of the chairs that were littered around the set. Your legs were ontop of Tom’s as you both laugh at a tiktok that you were showing him.

Suddenly, Rachel approached with a mischievous grin, her phone in her hands pointed directly at you. “Oh, would you look at that? Mistletoe!” she exclaimed, pointing above your head as both you and Tom look up, catching Josh holding a mistletoe above the two of you with a grin matching his girlfriend.

The crew members nearby chuckled, and Josh chimed in, “Guess tradition says you two have to share a Christmas kiss under the mistletoe!” He makes obnoxious kissing sounds as you cover your face in slight embarrassment, only peeking through your fingers to see Rachel’s phone still pointing at you.

You exchanged amused glances with Tom, both of you caught off guard but playing along. “Well, I suppose we shouldn’t break tradition,” Tom said with a wink, his British accent adding a touch of charm.

Under the mistletoe, surrounded by people you considered your family, you and your boyfriend shared a lighthearted, staged kiss, eliciting cheers and whistles from the crew. Cameras clicked, capturing the festive moment that would undoubtedly make its way into the behind-the-scenes footage.

As you pulled away, Rachel couldn’t resist teasing, “Ah, the magic of Christmas on set!” Tom chuckled, “Who knew mistletoe would find its way into the Hunger Games universe?”

The crew continued their work, but the festive spirit lingered. Throughout the day, more mistletoe moments were orchestrated with different cast members, each adding a touch of holiday cheer to the set which was amusing for fans to watch.

During a break, you found yourself by the craft services table, sipping on hot chocolate . Tom joined you, a playful glint still in his eyes. “I never thought I’d be kissing you under a mistletoe in the Capitol, of all places,” You laugh, nudging him as he fixes himself a hot chocolate.

~

“So, tell us, what was your favorite memory from filming during the Christmas season?” The interviewer, a charismatic woman with a warm smile, set the tone for the conversation.

Tom leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye, “Oh, that’s an easy one. Viola Davis in a Grinch costume. Nothing beats that sight on a festive set.” Laughter rippled through the room, and the interviewer joined in. “Viola Davis as the Grinch? That’s something we need to see!”

A few pictures appeared on the screen behind you and Tom, capturing the hilarious moment of Viola Davis fully embracing the holiday spirit as the Grinch. The audience erupted into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the vivid memory.

As the laughter subsided, the interviewer turned to you, “And you Y/n? Any standout moments from the Christmas filming?” You smiled, recalling the unexpected joy that filled the set. “Well, Tom and I had a rather unexpected encounter with a mistletoe. I think everyone knows what I’m talking about right?” You look to the crowd who all agree.

The screen shifted to a video clip, capturing the behind-the-scenes moment when Josh and Rachel orchestrated the mistletoe surprise. You and Tom, caught off guard, shared a playful kiss under the strategically placed mistletoe, eliciting cheers and applause from the crew.

“There it is,” you said, gesturing to the screen. “That was our impromptu mistletoe moment. Josh and Rachel ensured we got into the holiday spirit, Capitol style, obviously” You give a wink, giggling at the sight of you and Tom in full capitol glamour.

Tom grinned, “It was a festive surprise, to say the least. But it made for a memorable Christmas on set,” The audience enjoyed the wholesome clip, and the interviewer couldn’t help but smile before they wrapped up the interview.

[gretavangroupie]

Imber

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 21.5k

Warnings: Camping Jake, Cursing, Alcohol, Arguing, Pining, Angst, Severe Weather, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I had a thought and couldn't let it go. Special thanks to @gretavanmoon and @builtbybrokenbells for always supporting me and listening to my rambling voice memos. Love you both.

You watch as the familiar white Jeep pulls into your driveway, a cloud of dust filling the air as the car shifts into park. It’s only seconds before Clara is bounding out of the passenger door, running up to meet you on your porch.

“Clara…” you say, a suspicious look on your face.

“Josh said he wanted to tag along since he’s home…I couldn’t say no! Don’t be mad!” she whines nervously, knowing good and well this was supposed to be a girls weekend. 

You squint your eyes at her and let out a faux huff of annoyance, “It’s fine,” you say, sending her a playful smile.

“Are you sure?” she asks, bending down to help you grab your camping supplies. 

“Of course, Clara. I was just kidding around. You know I love Josh, and I know you hardly ever get to do stuff like this together. In fact, if you two want to just go, I can stay–”

“No way. You’re absolutely coming! Don’t start!” she shouts, slinging your duffle bag over her shoulder. “Let’s get you loaded up and on the road.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes organizing your things into the trunk, tetrising a few items until the trunk door would shut. You climb into the backseat, taking up residence next to the cooler packed with food for the weekend. 

“Hi Y/N! Thanks for letting me crash your camping trip!” Josh says, turning around in the driver's seat to flash you a smile. 

“Of course! I mean, if I knew that you were going to be home we could have planned like, a whole thing. It’s really no big deal. The more the merrier!” you answer, feeling Clara’s hand reach back to squeeze yours in thanks.

“Just a little break, only three weeks or so then we are back to it. Germany next,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you in the rearview mirror. 

You listen to him and Clara talk about the next leg of his tour, seeing the city start to taper off outside the car window. The trees are growing thick and the signs of humanity are next to none. 

“So where exactly are we going on this camping adventure, Clara?” you laugh, never really discussing a location in your earlier planning. 

“We’re going out to Leiper’s Fork, have you ever been there?” Josh answers.

“No, but I’ve heard of it!”

“Yeah, it’s a super cool little spot. Super secluded and gorgeous this time of year. Been out here a few times,” he says, letting his hand move to rest on Clara’s thigh. 

“How did you even find this? I feel like we are in the middle of nowhere!” you laugh, letting your eyes focus on the multicolored trees out the window. 

“Oh this is Jake’s spot. He’s always out here. Likes to come out here to write,” he pauses, turning to look at Clara. You can sense the nervous energy in his voice,  “He’s um, he’s actually going to be joining us.”

“Oh?” 

You feel a rush of panic wash over you. To say that your relationship with Jake was a bit rocky would be an understatement. You weren’t sure if there was ever really one thing that started it, one thing that made him dislike you so much, it just kind of evolved into what it is. You always seemed to find yourself in the same room as him, at the same parties with him, and attending the same shows, thanks to Josh and Clara. Though, neither of you ever bothered to speak to each other, let alone acknowledge the other's existence. It turned into an unspoken feud, filled with harsh whispers and judgemental glances, letting Josh and Clara be the buffer between the two of you. 

The thought of him joining you this weekend had you wishing you never agreed to the trip in the first place, and you know that they waited until you were this far out of town to break the news to you. 

“It will be fine babe, don’t worry. He will keep to himself like usual,” Clara says, sending you a guilty look. 

“Clara…”

“She’s right. He is different when we come out here. He might even be nice, who knows,” Josh laughs. It eases your anxiety just enough and you find yourself agreeing to this set up.

“Alright, it’s fine. I mean, it’s only two days anyway.”

–

The three of you spend most of the afternoon setting up your tents, wrestling the skinny fiberglass poles through the brightly colored fabric in fits of laughter. You took up shop beneath an old Oak tree, hoping it would provide a bit of shelter from the sun and the wind. Clara and Josh set up their tent just across from you, closer to the car and the fire pit. 

You organized your things in your tent, listening as Josh got chairs set up around the fire pit. He and Clara pulled the cooler from the car, tossing you a beer and as the sun started to dip in the sky, you talked about dinner and made plans for tomorrow's adventures. 

It was nearly sunset before you heard the rumble of tires as Jake’s Jeep pulled up to the campsite. You all snap your heads in his direction, seeing him jump out of the drivers side with a smirk on his lips. 

“Glad you could join us,” Josh teases. 

“Can’t rush these things,” he counters, nodding his head to Clara as a hello. His eyes flick over you and you watch as the expression on his face changes. His jaw tightens and his lips flatten into a thin line. A grumble of something leaves his lips in a whisper, and you don’t even have to hear it to know what he said wasn't pleasant. 

You look away quickly, turning your attention back to the vegetables you were cutting up for dinner. He turns back towards his car, gathering his things from the trunk as he continues to gripe incoherently. 

You focus on Josh and Clara, who are working on their own dinners, trying to keep the conversation flowing and ease the obvious tension. 

Jake tosses his things to the ground, preparing to set up his tent next to yours. You don’t dare tell him that it’s yours, and he doesn't dare ask. You continue to fill the tin foil with vegetables and meat, letting them marinate just long enough to get the fire started. 

“Jake, let’s go,” Josh says, motioning him over towards him.

“Go where,” he asks. 

“Need to gather firewood and I’m not making Clara carry it,” he says. Jake nods and gets up, jogging over to meet him. The two of them disappear into the thick woods, leaving you and Clara by yourselves at the campsite.

“This is going just great, wouldn’t you say?” you taunt, elbowing Clara from your camp chair. Her gaze is completely fixed on her phone, her eyes frantically flicking around the screen. 

“Hello? Earth to Clara?” you continue, still unable to break her away from her phone. 

She gets up and walks around, holding her phone to the sky in hopes of strengthening her signal.

“What's up, is everything okay?” you shout, starting to feel a little nervous. 

“Yeah, um, it’s fine. I think? I don’t know. I just got a weird text from my sister, and now I don’t have any service,” she says, biting at her bottom lip. 

“You can use mine if you want, I don’t know if my service is any better though. We are kinda in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s– It’s fine. I think,” she says, sitting back down in her chair next to you. 

“Anyway, what were you saying? Sorry, I suck,” she says, turning to look at you apologetically.

Just as you go to speak you hear the crunching of leaves and sticks, and see the shadowy figure of the two men returning with an arm full of firewood. 

“Well, nothing now,” you laugh, motioning to Josh and Jake. 

“Oh, okay, later?” she asks, hoping you will fill her in. 

“Yes, later,” you mumble.

Josh and Jake step up, tossing the wood into a pile next to the fire pit. “That should be enough for two days,” Josh says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. 

Jake’s eyes meet yours, only for a second before storming off to his car. You shake it off and try to focus on Josh as he builds the fire in front of you, using an obnoxious amount of lighter fluid in the process. 

“Clara he is going to light us all on–”

Her phone ringing interrupts you, grabbing her attention as she rushes to answer it. She stands up and walks away towards the car, and you watch as her demeanor shifts into panic. Your eyes meet Josh’s, both of you feeling uneasy about whatever is happening on that phone call. She rushes back over to you, her face fear stricken and her hands visibly shaking. 

“Josh, we have to go! We have to go right now!” she shouts, frantically rushing around and grabbing things from inside their tent.

“What? Clara, what's going on?!” he asks, trying to calm her down. 

“Ashton! She’s going into labor! She’s on her way to the hospital right now! She wasn’t due until next week! I don’t know, I don't know! But we have to go right now!” she says, pulling out of his grip and continuing to grab her things and throw them in the car. 

“Oh shit! Okay, yes, yes we can go, um…” he pauses, looking over towards Jake at his tent and you sitting in the chair in front of him, “Fuck, um…Y/N, do you uh, want to come with us, or–”

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I had no idea or I wouldn’t have– fuck, you should just… stay, enjoy the campsite and just relax. I’m so sorry I promise I will make this up to you!” Clara cries, her nervous energy transferring to you. 

It’s mere seconds before her and Josh are jumping into his car and pulling out of the campsite, abandoning their tent, their dinner and the rest of their belongings. 

Fuck.

You stand up from your chair, processing what exactly happened as you stare at the roaring fire. 

“Where uh, where did they go?” Jake asks, appearing from his tent as he hears the car peeling out of the campsite. 

You turn to look at him, shocked that he even spoke to you, while also realizing that now it’s just the two of you. Alone.

“They– Clara’s sister is having her baby. Early. They just…left– I–”

“Left?” he asks, “Like for good?”

“I…think so…” you answer, watching as he drags his hand across his face. The hem of his flannel lifts in the process revealing the tiniest peek at his tanned torso, so you quickly divert your eyes before he notices your staring. 

“Of course,” he gripes, kicking at the pile of firewood. He mutters something under his breath and you feel a wave of embarrassment at the thought of him dreading being around you this much. 

He huffs out a breath and turns to you, “Well, do you want to stay here or–”

“I mean, do you want to stay?” you question, shrugging your shoulders noncommittally. 

“I have no issue with staying. I know you were only here for them, so if you want to leave I promise it’s not going to hurt my feelings. I’m used to being out here alone anyway,” he says, his tone a little clipped. “Prefer it.”

“Are you going to be mad if I do want to stay?” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You let your eyes meet his for a few seconds, both of you looking at each other as he thinks of his answer.

Again he rubs his hand over his face, shaking his head, “No, no I won’t be fucking mad– I just– Do you want to fucking stay, yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Okay. Then we’ll stay,” he says, lowering the sound of his voice. His eyes flick around your face for a few seconds before turning to look at the fire. You can tell he is agitated, but when is he not?

“Jesus, he always uses too much fluid,” he gripes, turning his attention to the flames. “Pyromaniac.”

“Well, I guess we can throw these on?” you say, picking up the tin foil packets. 

“Yeah yeah, um, just set ‘em there,” he says, looking up to you from his crouched position next to the fire pit.

“Do you…want a drink or something?” you ask, feeling the awkwardness between you growing quickly. You can feel the hostility pouring off of him, and getting a drink seems to be you only escape plan.

“What’s in there?” he asks, looking over towards the cooler. 

“Beer?” you pause, “I don’t know, Josh packed it.”

“Whatever’s in there is fine,” he says, tossing the foil packets onto the flames.

You make your way to the cooler, grabbing two icy cans and returning to your chair to see Jake sitting in the one on the opposite side of the fire pit. You hand the can to him, seeing a side smile pull across his lips as he nods his head in thanks. 

“Got something stronger in the car if you want it,” he smirks, popping the tab on his can.

The small sliver of a smile nearly takes your breath away. “Oh, um, no this is good. Thank you though.”

It’s quiet between the two of you, both of you sipping at your beers as you watch the fire in front of you. You want to say something to him, start a conversation, maybe even chip away at his tough exterior, but you know that comes with risks. Risks you aren't willing to take while stranded in the woods for the next two days. 

It’s him though, that strikes up a conversation, but it’s not to make small talk, it’s to get answers. 

“Why do you even want to stay if Clara left?” he asks, bringing his can to his lips. 

You take a second to think about it, “Well, because I bought all this camping stuff, mostly. I’ve been looking forward to this little trip. I like being in nature, and I don’t get to do it often enough. Going in the woods alone as a woman isn’t exactly the safest either. So yeah, it sucks they had to leave but I’d rather be here than back at my place staring at my camping supplies sitting at my front door.”

“No other reason?” he asks, lowering his voice a little as he pokes at the foil packs with a stick.

You shake your head slowly, “Not that I can think of, no.”

He scoffs and flips the packets over before sitting back in his chair. You can feel him judging you, and the silence as he snickers at you confirms it. 

“Don’t be like that, Jake. You wanted to stay, too.”

“Yeah, but I come out here all the time. This is my damn spot,” he snaps.

“Well excuse me for intruding! I can call a fucking cab but I don’t think they will find me out here!”

“Jesus, relax,” he groans, “You know what? That's your problem. You’re too…you’re too uptight.”

“I’m uptight?!” you gasp, “What about you?! Mister, brooding misunderstood rockstar, can't stand to be in the same room as a person that doesn't fall at his feet and sing his praises,” you bark. 

“No, see, that's where you’re wrong. I’m not brooding or misunderstood. The people that I want to know me, know me just fine. I just don't put my feelings on display for everyone I meet. I have a certain way I like to live my life. And if that comes across as brooding and misunderstood, then so be it.”

“You know, you’re insufferable sometimes…” you grit.

“Well thank you for your input. I’ll be sure to put that in my diary later,” he snickers. 

“Do you have any respect for anyone?” you shout from across the fire.

“Of course I do. Those who earn it,” he says, raising his eyebrows. 

“You’re so–” you pause, grunting in frustration when you struggle to find the words.

“Sorry I have standards, sweetheart,” he says, taking another long pull of his beer. 

“Standards? What is that supposed to mean?” you shout, feeling yourself getting a little worked up. 

He glances up at you over the fire, “I don't let just anyone come into my life and get all up close and personal. You have to earn that. Which means my standards are a little higher than most.”

You cut your eyes at him, “Why are you like this? All cold and cryptic…I don’t even know what I did to make you dislike me this much.”

His eyes are dark and unyielding, his lips turning into a smile as he laughs, “I never said I dislike you. You just don't like how I present myself because it goes against what you’re used to. You're used to easy going guys, who let you do anything you want because you’re pretty. Not guys who are a little closed off and reserved. You don't want a little bit of a challenge.”

“Who said I even want you at all?” you bite back.

“You didn’t need to say it, sweetheart. You’re easy to read,” he says, sending you a smug grin. 

“Well, find a different book.”

“You’re also a smartass,” he says, leaning forward to pull the foil packets from the fire with a stick. He carefully opens up the hot foil, and checks them to make sure they are cooked through. His eyes flick up to yours, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, I am,” you say begrudgingly, leaning forward to reach for the foil wrapped food. You unroll the foil and reach for the plastic forks, offering one to Jake. He takes it with the raise of his brow, casually picking at the food in the silver wrap. 

“Explains a few things,” he mutters with a smirk. 

“Is this how this is going to be? Are you just going to dig at me all weekend until we go our separate ways?” you ask, starting to feel a little fed up.

“You tell me. Is that what you want?” he asks, biting a carrot from his fork. 

“No, I want us to just get along the best we can. I want this to be at least a little enjoyable.”

He looks at you for a moment and seems to soften a bit. “Fine,” he says, “So what would you like to talk about then, sweetheart?"

You roll your eyes at the pet name you’ve adopted, “I don't know, what do you enjoy talking about? Pretend it's not me. Tell me about life on tour or something.”

He nods and picks at his food, seemingly thinking for a minute before he speaks. “Well,” he begins, “The tour has been good, a few bumps along the way. We hit some bad weather in Huntsville that delayed one of our shows for a night, but other than that it was a good run. I think everyone is holding up fine.”

“What about you, though. Are you holding up fine?” you ask. 

He seems taken aback by the question. He looks at you with a surprised expression, almost as if it’s the first time someone has asked him about himself. He looks down at his food and is quiet for a moment before mumbling, “Yeah…I’m fine. Why?”

“I don't know, you just seem...agitated with everything lately. Every time I see you, you just seem quiet.”

He looks up at you again, holding eye-contact for a minute. He is tempted to deny it, to tell you everything is fine, but he doesn’t. Maybe there’s a part of him that wants to be honest with you. The other part terrified of letting you see through the walls he has worked so hard to build up.

“That’s just how I am,” he says quietly. He glances up at you and then back at the fire again, “That’s how I present myself. And it’s always been that way. It’s how people expect me to be most of the time and I don’t blame them. Most of my music is written about heartache and struggle whether personal or not. It’s everything I am. But I’m fine, sweetheart. I’m always fine.”

You shrug your shoulders, not wanting to pry anymore, feeling satisfied with the little bit he’s allowed you,. “Okay.”

The two of you eat in silence for a few more minutes, the wind starting to pick up, as the leaves rustle behind you. Jake seems to have softened a bit since your earlier banter, and you wonder if he is feeling a little guilty for his hand in the taunting. 

He looks at you again with a raised eyebrow, “What about you, then? Are you fine?”

He’s asking about you? 

“I mean, yeah. I think I'm fine. There are some things I wish were different, but that's life,” you offer, not wanting to delve too far into things. Not that he would care anyway. 

He seems a little taken aback with your response. Not that it surprised him that you have personal problems, but he wasn’t expecting you to be honest with him. Almost anyone else would have painted a perfect picture and made themselves appear significantly better than they actually were. There was a moment between you two when the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the chirping of Cicadas before he quietly spoke again.

“What do you wish were different?”

“Ahh, it’s nothing really. Just sometimes I wonder if I am where I am supposed to be. You know, the normal stuff,” you say, offering him a smile.  

He looks at you for a beat and nods slowly, seeming to take that in. “I don’t think anyone truly knows if they’re where they’re meant to be. One of the mysteries of life, I suppose.”

“What?” you nod, encouraging him to continue. “What were you going to say? You look like you wanted to ask something.” 

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, looking back into the fire and away from you. 

“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head as if dismissing whatever he was just thinking and stands up. He walks towards the treeline with an unreadable expression on his face, and you wonder what he could possibly be thinking. The wind sends a shiver through you, and you decide to grab the s'mores ingredients from the cooler before he comes back. If he comes back. 

He walks away, disappearing into the trees as he goes to relieve himself. He stands there for a moment, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cool night air. He runs a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath as he replays your conversation. He hates that you can break him down so easily, that you seem to understand him better than he understands himself, and worse that you even care enough to ask. 

He zips up and turns to head back towards the tent, feeling frustrated and conflicted. He knows he's being unfair to you, knows that he's acting cold and distant for no good reason. But he can't help it. It’s all he can do. He doesn't want to get close to people, doesn't want to let them in. Especially not you. 

You work quickly trying to place the marshmallows on sticks, finding it to be a lot harder than you thought. With a little elbow grease and a dream you shoved the sticky blobs on the ends of the sticks, dangling them gingerly over the open flames. 

With both hands occupied it's hard to shield your arms from the cool wind that is dancing through your campsite. A chill rises to your skin despite the warmth of the fire. You quickly forget about it though as you see Jake reappearing through the treeline. He walks up with his hands in his pockets, his eyes studying you as you roast the two marshmallows. 

“What are you up to now?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“I mean…Roasting marshmallows, what do you mean?” you ask, confused as to why he was confused. 

His eyes roam over you and a small smirk appears at the corner of his mouth. He leans a little bit closer to study what you’re doing, laughing under his breath.

“You’re going to burn them, sweetheart.”

“No I’m not. I know what I’m doing, thank you,” you quip, rotating the sticks. 

He laughs and shakes his head, “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a mess of black, gooey, sugar.”

He moves a little closer behind you, until his chest is mere inches away from your back. His voice drops to a teasing whisper against your ear. “But, by all means, continue.”

If the goosebumps weren’t already taking up residency on your body, they would be now. He takes the chair next to you this time, instead of his previous one across from you. You don’t question it, and he doesn’t mention it, so you leave it at that. 

You watch as the marshmallows start to puff up, knowing they are done and ready to be put on the graham cracker, but that's when you realize you only have two hands, and this is in fact, about to go south quickly.

“Here, hand one to me,” he says, grabbing the stick from your hand. “Put that one together, and then do this one.”

You work quickly to assemble the marshmallow, chocolate and graham cracker, your fingers growing into a sticky, sugary mess as it starts to deflate. It’s melting the chocolate perfectly, and you think you may have just made the perfect s’more. The wind starts to whip a little harder, blowing your hair around your face just a little too much. Jake hands you the stick back, letting you assemble the other s’more, trying to push your hair out of your face with your wrist. 

From his spot next to you, you can feel his eyes on you. Watching you struggle, giggling a little under his breath as you fight through the mess of hair in your eyes. 

You place the chocolate on the cracker before trying to position the marshmallow on top, a huff of frustration falling from your lips as you push your hair back with the side of your arm. “Fuck,” you growl. 

You hear him laugh again, but this time it's accompanied with him standing up from his seat. You turn your head and watch as he pulls a black hair tie from his finger. His fingers brush against your neck for a moment, gathering your hair into his fist and pulling it up into a quick ponytail. It is an unexpectedly sweet and careful gesture on his part, taking you completely by surprise. 

He steps back and looks over you, now with your hair out of the way. “There,” he says, taking his seat once more.

“Th–thank you,” you squeak out, still reeling over the feeling of his hands on your skin. 

There is a beat of silence between you where he just looks at you. His eyes drift from your face down to your fingers and the gooey mess you had created from assembling the s’mores. 

He suddenly snickers,“You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

You shrug your shoulders and offer him the perfect s’more, reaching for your own and sinking your teeth into the melty goodness. You were right, it was perfect. Probably the best you’d ever made. Screw him for saying you were going to burn it. 

You turn to look at him, ready to see his reaction to the perfectly made treat. He bites into it, staring at the fire as he chews, swallowing down his first bite before he turns to you. 

“You know, I kind of hate these,” he smirks. 

“What?” you ask, taking another bite. 

“I never have liked them. My whole life, really.”

“Then why– Why are you eating it? You didn’t have to eat it,” you say, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“I dunno. I want to. I guess ‘cause you made it for me.”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach, watching him intentionally take another bite as he settles back in his camp chair. There is a new tension floating in the air now, it's less uncomfortable and more heavy with things unsaid. 

He turns to look at you again, his face glowing in the orange fire light, “It actually isn’t terrible. I will admit.”

“So what you’re saying is that you love my cooking?” you tease.

He laughs, as he swallows his last bite, “Well, I didn’t say that. The fact that you call this cooking is questionable.” His tone is teasing, and you watch as he licks a dribble of chocolate from his thumb. It causes more of a reaction within you than you ever anticipated, and again you thank the wind for causing the goosebumps. 

“I think I have some paper towels  in the car, I’ll be right back.” he says, standing and walking over to his car. You can hear him digging around in his trunk as you stare off at the trees in the distance, trying to make any sense of the feelings rushing through your body right now. Why is he sort of sweet? Why is he sort of really sexy when he’s not being an asshole?

A flash in the trees catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts and raising your blood pressure. You stare intently, watching for it again, hearing Jake approaching from your left. You see the flash again, accompanied by two others, and a smile crosses your face. 

Jake steps up behind you, tossing a thick flannel in your lap as he takes his spot next to you, offering you a handful of wet wipes to clean your sticky fingers. You glance down at the shirt laying across your legs and turn to him in surprise.

“Noticed you were cold, that's all.”

You clean your hands the best you can before sliding the thick flannel shirt over your arms, letting the warmth and the smell envelop your senses. This was not helping with the thoughts you were having a few minutes ago. You turn your sights back to the trees, watching the little orbs buzz around overhead.

“Fireflies…” you whisper, watching a few zaps of yellow buzz around in the old Oak trees.

He hums as he sees them light up, “They are in all of the trees out here. One of my favorite things,” he admits.

“Jake?”

He turns to look at you, nodding for you to continue. 

“Why do you come out here alone all the time?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

His expression darkens slightly as he hears the question, and he is quiet for a moment before answering. “It’s just peaceful I guess,” He shrugs and looks out into the darkness of the trees instead of you. “Not everyone is cut out to be around people all the time.”

“You don’t ever get lonely?”

A beat of silence passes and he glances back at you. This time, his usual smirk has disappeared and is replaced by a more serious look. He doesn’t answer the question, but there is a look in his eyes that makes you think maybe he is more lonely than he wants to let on.

“I’m comfortable with my own company,” he says quietly. The fire is still smoldering in front of the two of you, the flames gone now, leaving a pile of glowing embers snapping and popping as they work to extinguish themselves. 

You pull the sleeves of his flannel over your hands, catching his attention and pulling a tiny smirk to the corners of his lips. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to focus on the fireflies again. It feels nice sitting with him like this. Just talking, no witty remarks or snappy comebacks. Just two people, talking. 

“Don’t you ever wish you had someone to share this with, though? Your spot?” you ask, giving him a playful grin.

He watches you for a moment, considering the question. There is a part of him that wants to be defensive and cold, shutting you out and telling you he doesn’t want that. But the look in your eyes and the softness of your tone tells him he can’t lie to you about this. He breaks eye contact momentarily, his gaze falling downward to his hands in his lap.

“Sometimes…” he mumbles under his breath. 

You aren’t sure why, but that goes straight to your heart. Sure he said he was fine earlier, but now you’re starting to see that maybe that isn’t completely true. It’s quiet for a moment, and you spend each second gathering up the courage to continue the conversation.

He glances at you again, this time having a look on his face that says he wishes he hadn’t confessed that to you. He suddenly becomes much more uncomfortable, trying to cover it up by acting nonchalant, adjusting his position in his chair and fidgeting with the fire. He clears his throat and looks to you again, “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

It catches you off guard. Him not only abruptly ending the conversation, but the rest of the evening. You know he is right, you probably should go to sleep, but part of you feels like the conversation is unfinished, and you think he knows that, too. 

“Oh, um, okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.” you say, standing from your chair with a stretch. You can feel his eyes on you, burning holes into your skin. “Is the fire going to be okay?”

He laughs a little, nodding his head, “Yeah, yeah. Just embers now. It will smolder out in an hour or two,” he says. 

You nod your head and pull your flannel covered arms across your chest tightly. You start to make your way over to your tent, your mind flooded with the vision of him just moments ago, soft and glowing in the firelight. You look back at him, still standing at the fire, watching you walk to your tent. He nods with a smirk and starts walking toward his own tent. Before going in, he looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Night.”

“Night, Jake,” you answer, reaching for the zipper. He nods and watches as you step inside, waiting until you’re safely inside before he lets out a deep sigh.

He can’t quite put his finger on why he suddenly feels so off-kilter. You’ve shaken him in a way no other has been able to. There was something about that conversation earlier, you asking what he wanted. How he was doing.  How he feels. The way your features softened as you listened to him and made him want to tell you the truth. He didn’t like how it made him feel, like every falsity he had built up about you in his mind was exactly that. He had spent so long pushing you away and talking you down to himself that now, here, where he can’t escape you, he is faced with the fact that you’re exactly the girl he thought you were, and everything he has always known deep down is true.. 

Inside your tent, you rummage around in your duffle bag looking for something to sleep in. As you pull an old t-shirt from the bag you pull his flannel from your body, setting it aside while you change. You don’t know why, but you find yourself reaching for it again and layering it over your shirt. You pull it to your nose to breathe it in now that you’re alone in the confines of your tent. It smells of smoke and tobacco, a sweet earthy undertone pulling you into its spell as your eyes flutter closed.

You can hear him zipping his tent, the faint glow of his lantern casting a shadow of his figure against the tent fabric. You hear the buckle of his belt as he pulls it from the loops on his jeans, and you do your best to look away. But with the smell of his cologne invading your senses, you claim temporary insanity and watch as his shadow pulls his shirt over his head and slides out of his jeans. You swallow heavily as you watch his shadow settle down into his sleeping bag and turn off the lantern.

You do the same, turning off your headlamp and getting inside your sleeping bag, doing your best to get comfortable. Even though the air is warm, the ground is cold and you shiver slightly.  It’s difficult to get comfortable in the new environment and you find yourself rolling over and shifting around a lot, almost matching the state of your brain. Eventually, the sound of the cicadas lure you to sleep, and as your eyes shut it's a soft, fireside Jake that is on your mind. 

—

The birds chirping in the tree above you wakes you. Your eyes crack open and you immediately notice the cool chill in the air. You sit up and yawn, stretching out your limbs and buttoning the buttons on the flannel for a little extra warmth. As you step outside of your tent a cool fog envelops you, causing you to shiver. You see a small fire has been built in the fire pit already, so you gather that Jake is already awake.

You make your way to your camp chair, noticing it has been wiped of the dew already, and is ready for you to occupy it. Your eyes search the foggy landscape for any sight of him, finding him standing at the tailgate of his Jeep fiddling with something. He catches sight of you, and nods, motioning that he will be over soon. 

Minutes later he is approaching with two camp mugs filled with what you can only assume is coffee. The steam is swirling from the tops of the mugs blending in with the fog surrounding you. 

“Morning,” he says, offering you the blue speckled mug. 

“Morning,” you smile, accepting it from his hand. “You have all the accessories, don’t you?”

He smiles, and nods gently, “I’m very serious when I commit to things.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“It is.” His gaze travels over you for a moment. He can’t help but appreciate just how good you look in the morning. The messy hair and the sleepy expression, combined with his flannel, you’re practically driving him insane.

“Do you think we will be able to see the sunrise through the fog?” you ask, sipping at the black coffee.

He squints thoughtfully out into the fog, taking in the thickness of it. He can’t see anything through the haze and honestly doubts you will be able to see much of anything.

“Hard to say,” he shrugs. “Depends on how long it hangs on.”

You nod in understanding, returning to the quiet morning, listening to the chirping of the birds in the distance. “You know it is really beautiful out here, I see why you come out here.”

He smiles a little, appreciating your change of attitude from last night.

“I thought you’d like it,” he said with a hint of a smirk. He glances back out into the fog where everything is hazy and unclear. “It’s nice and quiet here. No one around for miles, other than us of course. I like that best of all.”

“You know, I might even come back here one day,” you smile, feeling your chest grow warm at his last words. 

He suddenly looks surprised that you’re considering returning. He usually had a comeback for anything you said, but for this, he was quiet for a moment, considering your words.

He glances around at the surrounding area, the trees and shrubs all covered in the dense fog. He feels almost defensive about you seeing this place as beautiful. It was his place, his special place, and he wasn’t sure why he felt so weird that you were appreciating it. He falls silent for a moment as he watches you enjoy the surroundings, sipping the coffee he made for you as you sit in his flannel. The peaceful look on your face as you look out into the fog causes his chest to feel warm. He would never admit it, but he wants to bring you back here as often as you want to come.

He clears his throat and looks back at you. “Maybe we can take a walk before it clears up.”

You can feel the blush creeping up your chest, your cheeks burning at the thought that he might actually want to spend the day with you. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that. Anything cool to see out here?”

He takes a moment to think, rubbing his fingers against his lips, “There’s a pretty decent hike to a creek not too far, we could go that way. Only if you’re not scared of a little wilderness along the way,” he smirked.

“I’m not scared,” you answer, raising a brow in challenge. 

“You bring a bathing suit?” he asks, tipping back the last of his coffee.

“Of course,” you laugh. 

“Good, I’ll meet you back out here in say, fifteen?” he says, standing from his chair.

You nod and both make your way back to your tents, changing into your bikini that you fully did not prepare to wear in front of a man, let alone Jake. You pull a pair of denim shorts and a cut off tee over top, grabbing your hiking boots and your backpack as you make your way back out to the camp chairs. 

Jake is still in his tent, so you use the time to lace up your boots and pack a few snacks into your bag. It’s not long before Jake is stepping out, in a pair of red swim trunks and a black button down, barely hanging on to his tan frame. It seems a strange ensemble for hiking, but he is unlike any other man you knew, and it kind of just fit.

He joins you at the chairs, putting on his own hiking boots. You feel his hand reach over to check the tautness of your shoestrings, grabbing your attention. 

He looks up at you from his bent over position, “Just making sure they are tight enough, don’t need you getting blisters before we even make it to the trail head,” he smiles. 

With your bag packed and your sunglasses perched on your nose, the two of you set off into the treeline, leaving your camp behind in search of adventure. You head down the winding trail that is lined with overgrowth on either side. You can tell that not many people walk this path, and you wonder how Jake even found it in the first place. The thick brush and branches scratch at your legs as you trudge on, but you welcome it. This is what you wanted, after all.

He walks just a step behind you, watching your feet as you walk along the trail. He can’t help but notice how your legs look in your denim shorts, and he does his best not to stare. Not that you would notice. 

You turn around to look at him, noticing him a few strides behind you, “You gonna keep up with me Kiszka?”

He scoffs playfully, a bit miffed at that comment, “I’ve walked this trail a hundred times, pretty sure I can handle it.”

He takes a few quick steps to catch up to you, walking next to you now rather than a few steps behind. His shoulder brushes against yours as he walks, catching you both by surprise. 

“Why am I leading the way anyway if you know where we are going?” you tease. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “You’re not ‘leading the way’ sweetheart, I’m guiding you.”

You huff in annoyance, “Guiding me? I’m not a dog…”

He smirked, thinking about how you definitely weren’t as obedient as a dog. You were much harder to control and a hell of a lot more stubborn.

He suddenly snickered and said, “Never said you were, I just don’t trust you not to wander off.”

“And go where? You’re all I’ve got out here!” you giggle, the words leaving your lips before you consider the weight of them. 

He snickered again with amusement, though his heart skipped a beat when you said that. You were all he had as well. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his swim trunks as he walked next to you, avoiding any more of the shrubs that were trying to grab onto him.

“There’s plenty of places to get lost around here if you wander off the trail. That’s why I’m making sure you don’t drift away too far.”

“Why would I want to?” you ask, a hint of flirtation evident in your tone.

He picks up on your flirty tone, letting a smirk pull across his lips. He glances over at you with a look in his eye as he registers what you meant by that comment.

“If I didn't know any better I would say you're enjoying spending time with me, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jacob,” you quip. 

He snickers and glances over at you again, seeing that look on your face he's all too familiar with. “I don’t have to flatter myself, sweetheart. You’re the one getting all flirty.” He grins.

“Flirty? I’m not being flirty,” you lie.

He snickers again, seeing through your lie immediately. “You have a terrible poker face,” he says. He walks closer to you as he speaks, his leg brushing yours as you walk. 

You feel a chill run down your spine at the contact and you wonder if he feels it too. You decide to change the subject, worried that this conversation may have you backed into a corner. 

“Tell me how you learned to play guitar so well,” you ask, hoping he will be willing to accept your topic change. 

He lifts his gaze to the trees as he contemplates your question. He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but he still remembers those nights all too well.

“Practice, mostly. Spent hours and hours alone in my bedroom just practicing until my arms were sore and my hands locked up. But how do you know that I play well? You watch me, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, letting your hands push away a few branches, “I mean, you have to play pretty well if you're selling out arenas…”

He lets out a scoff and a smirk. He was used to people complimenting his skill but for some reason, hearing you do it makes him feel a little flustered.

“I suppose so, but you didn't answer my question,” He chuckles.

“What, have I watched you play? Of course I have. I've been to a few shows with Clara.”

He seems surprised by your confession. In that moment, he begins to wonder how many times your eyes have sought him out through the lights and over the crowd.

He clears his throat and says, “Clara dragged you out to them?”

“No, I went willingly,” you admit. 

There’s a moment of silence as he processes what you just admitted. For some reason, the thought of you going to one of his shows because you wanted to go was making his heart pound a little harder in his chest.

He looks at you with a smirk to mask how thrown off he was by that.  “How come I never saw you backstage?”

You look at him with a confused look, "Did you ever look?"

Something about that question stung. The way you said the words so casually felt like a knife through his chest. He shakes his head as he responds, “No. No, you weren't there. I would remember.”

“You're right. I never went back with Clara after the shows. Didn't want to put myself in that position. I mean, that's your space, ya know? And you and I can barely be in the same room together. We haven't even had a civil conversation until, well, right now.”

He stays silent for a moment, processing your confession. After a minute he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I never wanted it to be like that sweetheart.”

You huff a laugh, “Your actions over the last, oh I don’t know, two years have shown otherwise.”

He grimaces when you say that, knowing that you’re right. He knows he has been a jackass to you, but for some reason hearing you confront him about it was causing a strong pang of guilt to flare up deep within his chest. He tries to shrug it off and maintain his cool, but even he can’t deny that your words were hitting him right where it hurt. 

The two of you walk for a few moments in silence, the only sound being the crunch of branches and twigs under your feet. He glances over at you, watching the way your face looked as you focused on where you stepped along the path, and he suddenly blurts out a question.

“Why is it so easy for you to make me feel guilty?”

What?

You snap your head to look at him, “I don’t know, you tell me?”

He lets out a scoff and shakes his head, pushing a limb out of the way to let you pass. “You’ve just got this way of bringing out sides of me that I don’t understand,” he grumbles.

“What do you mean?” you ask, feeling a wave of nerves wash over you. 

He falls silent as he considers how to explain what he means. It’s a hard thing to describe. It’s more than just the way you make him feel things he doesn’t usually feel around other people. It’s more than just the way you look at him, or talk to him, that makes his heart beat harder. It’s more and he knows it.

“It’s nothing, nevermind,” he pauses, “We’re here.”

You decide to let it slide, not wanting to push him into a bad mood. The two of you walk up to the edge of the rocky creek, taking in the sights. There’s a small waterfall trickling over the rocks to your right, leading out into a swimming spot and you almost moan at how appealing a dip sounds after that hike.

Jake stands just beside you, his gaze skimming over the water. He takes in the rushing sound of the creek as it flows past the large rocks and branches. He’s secretly looking at you out of the corner of his eye, watching you stare out at the creek just like he did the first time he saw it. He takes a moment to just watch you. The way your hair looks in the sunlight is catching his eye, the way your lashes flutter as you blink, the look on your face that’s soft and calm. Watching you out here in this setting is making all sorts of different emotions swirl around inside him, but he just can’t bring himself to name any of them.

“This was worth the hike,” you say, turning to meet his gaze. 

He keeps his eyes on you as you admire the creek. The way the sunlight dances against your skin makes you look as if you’re glowing. He can’t pull his eyes away from how goddamn good you look and how peaceful you seem despite everything that had happened between you two.

“Yeah. I suppose it was worth it, wasn’t it?” He agrees reluctantly.

You pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bikini top and shorts. You know you want to jump in, but you will wait for him to go first. 

He’s completely caught off guard by your actions, his eyes growing wide. His gaze instantly travels down to take in your bare torso, raking over your skin and lingering for just a beat too long. He immediately clears his throat and looks away, shifting uncomfortably as he feels an unfamiliar pang of heated desire in his stomach.

“You ready to swim?” he asks. You unlace your boots and leave them on the embankment, turning to look at him as he does the same. 

“Very,” you say, nodding towards the water.

He takes a moment to compose himself and avoid staring at you while you are basically half-naked. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing his tanned chest and arms, and sets it down beside yours on the bank of the creek.

He dips a toe into the water cautiously to test the temperature. It’s a bit cold, but it feels refreshing on his skin after all the walking you had done to get here.

“Good, let me show you why we really came here,” he says, motioning for you to follow him up a footpath. You quickly kick off your shorts and follow after him, curious as to where he is taking you. As you reach the end of the small dirt path your eyes land on the old rope hanging from the branch of an Oak tree.

“No, no way,” you stammer. 

A mischievous smirk quirks up on his face as you look at the rope. He can tell that you’re nervous just by the look in your eyes. But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it cute.

“Oh come on, what happened to ‘I’m not scared’?” he teases. 

“I’m not! But this is different!” you whine. 

He walks up to the rope, grabbing a hold of it and giving it a few solid pulls to test how sturdy it is. He glances over his shoulder at you to watch your face, seeing the anxiety there in your expression.

He smirks and motions towards the creek below him, “See that spot down there? It’s perfect for jumping. It’s safe. I’ve done it a hundred times. I promise.”

“I don’t know,” you say, biting at your bottom lip. 

He grins as he watches you bite your lip. Seeing you looking so nervous and cute was making his heart twist. He steps closer to you, still holding the rope in his hands. He smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll go first, okay?”

You nod and watch as he wraps his hands around the brown rope. He turns and looks back at you with an excited expression, “I’ll see you down there?”

“Okay,” you murmur, watching as he gets a running start and flies through the air before dropping down into the creek with a splash. You run to peer over the edge, watching him come up from the water with a shake of his hair. He smiles and waves you down, practically begging you to join him. 

“Come on, you can do it! I–I’ll catch you! Promise!” he shouts, “Jump, sweetheart!”

You let out a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you wait for the rope to stop swinging so you can grab it. As you reach for it you hear him cheering, still floating in the water where he landed. 

“Jump!” he yells, smiling up at you as he treads in the water. He grins as he watches you dangle from the rope, nervous to let go and jump into the water. “You’re gonna be fine! Just let go and I’ll catch you. I promise,” he yells.

With that you run, jumping off of the rock with the rope clutched tightly in your fists. Time almost seems to slow down when you jump, your body floating through the air and for a moment, it feels exhilarating.

“Let go, now!” he shouts, and so you do.

Jake waits with his arms open wide, watching as you fall down towards him from above. He can see the mixture of fear and courage on your face as you plummet towards him. He braces himself as you fall into his arms, catching you as best he can in the deep water. He pulls you close to him, his hands gripping your bare waist as your bodies press together. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he holds you, your chest against his and your faces just inches apart. He can feel your heart pounding as he looks into your eyes.

The moment you’re in his arms, something within him snaps. All of a sudden, everything feels heightened. The feel of your body against his, the way you’re looking at him, the sound of your breathing as it slightly catches in your chest. The air between you seems almost electrified and he can feel the tension brewing in his gut.

“You caught me,” you breathe, recognizing just how close the two of you are. 

He can’t help but smirk and let out a low chuckle, still holding you against him. “I told you I would.”

You can feel your body pressed against his, the wet fabric of your bikini sticking to your skin. It’s making your brain go fuzzy and your skin tingle in a way you can’t explain.

“Thank you,” you whisper, neither of you making a move to let go of each other. 

He swallows, the tension between you feeling almost palpable. His pulse is pumping, and his breath catches in his throat as he holds onto you. He wants so badly to press you against him further and hold you tighter. Closer.

He couldn’t help glancing down at your lips, his gaze drifting down from your eyes to linger there just for a moment. You let your tongue dart out over your lips, swiping away the water dripping over them. 

He lets out a low, deep breath as he watches you. That small action has his heart racing even more, and every instinct inside him telling him to bring you closer. To claim your lips with his and taste you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he whispers in a hoarse voice.

“Dangerous for who?” you question, biting on your lip.

He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly. He pulls you in closer, and you know he can feel your nipples hard and wet against his chest. Your bodies are pressed flat against one another, the cool water from the creek dripping down from your skin and onto his. He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and his pulse thrumming in his veins. 

He leans his head down so that his lips are mere millimeters away from yours and whispers huskily, “You. For you, sweetheart.”

Suddenly he releases his grip on you, swimming on his back further down the creek. Your heart is still racing in your chest from the contact. You felt something just now, and you know he did too. You feel a sick feeling in your chest at the loss of his touch. You tread water for a moment as you watch him swim away, feeling the coolness of the water against your skin and the sun beating down above you. Your mind is racing and you’re trying to process all of the different emotions and sensations that he stirred up within you just now.

Jake turns, breaking the surface to look back at you. “You coming?” he calls out to you with a smirk.

You nod, starting to swim towards him, taking notice of the smile on his face and the small dimple in his cheek. For some reason you feel the need to be close to him, you want his hands on you again, and you think maybe he does too.

He watches as you swim towards him, your body moving gracefully through the water. He can feel his heart rate increasing as he watches you approach, and he has a sudden urge to reach out and pull you against him. But instead, he composes himself and continues to tread water as you swim up to him.

He grins as you get to him, his gaze drifting over your body. “Took you long enough,” he teases.

“Where are you taking me, anyway?” you taunt, treading water next to him.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

You shrug your shoulders in the water, and with that he spins around and starts swimming further down the creek, moving towards a more secluded area. He glances over his shoulder at you as he swims, making sure you’re following him. He swims over towards the bank, pulling himself up on a collection of flat rocks. It’s a nice shady spot, and you can tell the rocks will be warm to the touch. 

He looks back at you, extending his hand to help pull you from the water. You take it, letting him pull your wet body up onto the rocks with him. He keeps hold of your hand for just a moment longer than necessary, hoping you didn’t notice, but of course you do. 

“This,” he pauses, “Is my favorite place.” He grins and motions for you to sit down, taking a seat himself. Once you’re settled, he looks out at the creek that flows past you. 

“I found it a long time ago. No one’s ever here. It’s like a little hidden treasure, I don’t even know if anyone else knows it’s here,” he says with a smile. “Actually, you’re the only person I’ve ever shown this to.”

“What? No one else?” You question. 

He shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “No one. It’s my little secret hideout.” He looks over at you and grins, his eyes taking in your figure sitting next to him. “I guess now it’s our secret hideout.”

“Oh, ours now, huh?” you tease, turning to look at him as the sun hits his cheeks. 

He laughs, his eyes still wandering over you, taking in the way the water is dripping down your sun kissed skin.

He takes a deep breath and nods, “Yeah, ours. No getting out of it now,” he says with a smirk.

You decide to push the envelope a little, swallowing nervously as you speak, “Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he hears your flirty tone. He shifts his body towards you, his gaze drifting over your face and then down towards your chest and legs, still damp from the water.

He raises an eyebrow at you and responds in a low voice, “Good. I don’t think I’d let you, anyway.”

You decide to let the conversation end there, your pulse pounding as you look at him, the droplets of water drying on his chest. He’s hot, and you know that he knows it. The smirk on his lips hasn’t left since you made your way to the rocks and you can feel the tension between the two of you growing by the second. 

He swallows, feeling his heart begin to beat quicker as he looks at you. He wants so badly to reach out and touch you, but he holds back, knowing that doing so would probably drive him over the edge. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. He’s not used to feeling this out of control when he’s with a woman. Normally he’s the one in charge, the one in control. But there’s something about you that makes him feel like he’s losing his grip, like he’s teetering on the edge of something new and different, and he can’t help but be drawn to it.

He shifts his body closer to you, his gaze fixed on your face as he speaks. “You want to swim some more or do you want to head back?”

“What do you want to do?” you ask, truly feeling like anything would be fun as long as it was him you were doing it with. 

He grins at you, the sparkle in his eye betraying his true desire. He wants to touch you, to pull you against him and feel your body pressed against his. But instead of saying that, he shrugs, “I’m good with whatever you want. Can’t promise we won’t find ourselves in the water again, though.”

With that you push up off the rocks and dive back into the creek, pushing the hair from your face as you resurface from the water. You splash the water up at him, soaking him and causing him to jump. 

“Oi!” he shouts, a bit of an accent peeking out from somewhere. 

“What’s wrong Kiszka? Can’t handle a little innocent splashing?” you taunt, trying to lure him into the water. What you don’t expect is for him to jump to his feet with a vengeful look in his eye. 

“Oh you just wait, sweetheart,” he pauses, charging towards you, “We will see how innocent–” 

You cut him off with another playful splash, drenching him again.  

He wipes the water from his face, shaking his head as if you have pushed him too far, “Mmhm, okay, now you’ve done it.” 

He jumps into the water next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he drags you beneath the surface. He pulls you down with him, holding you tight around the waist as you sink beneath the surface. The feeling of your body against his is intoxicating, and he revels in the sensation for a moment before popping back up and pulling you with him.

As you break the surface, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, holding you against him as you gasp for air. He grins, his smirk returning as he looks down at you. “Payback’s a hell of a thing, sweetheart.”

You push playfully at his shoulders, feeling his hands still holding your waist. A wicked grin is on his lips, and you're certain you’ve never seen someone so beautiful. He laughs as you push at him, not loosening his grip on your waist one bit. He can feel the way your body feels against his, soft and warm in stark contrast to the coolness of the water.

“Watch yourself, dove,” he warns, his smirk growing wider as he looks down at you. “You’re playing with fire.”

“How do we keep finding ourselves here,” you breathe. 

He looks down at you, his eyes locked on your face as he holds you in his arms. You feels the tension between you building, the heat of your bodies close together making your heart race in your chest.

He takes a deep breath, letting out a low chuckle as he replies, “I dunno, sweetheart, I sure don’t know.” His hand moves up to tuck a lock of your wet hair behind your ear. It feels like he wants to say more, but stops himself, settling for something else instead. “You want to head back?”

You feel a pang shoot through your chest, you don’t want to leave this spot, not now, not ever. “Sure,” you answer, and you wonder if he feels the same. 

He nods, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. He had hoped you would say you didn’t want to leave, that you wanted to stay here just as much as he did. But he doesn’t argue with you, and instead just starts swimming towards the bank. 

“C’mon, it’s starting to get dark anyway, we should get back.” he says, letting you follow behind him. 

You find your belongings right where you left them, but the thought of putting clothes over your wet bikini has you cringing. Instead, you shove them into your backpack, holding Jake’s shirt up, silently asking him if he wants it. He shakes his head as he ties his boots, his hair still dripping down his back. You put on your own boots and sling the backpack over your shoulders, taking one last look at the creek you’d never forget. 

“You ready?” he asks, starting down the path. You nod and follow behind him, the trail lit by the perfect afternoon sun. Your hair is drying in waves around your face, much the same as his. 

He leads the way down the trail, his boots crunching on the ground below. His mind is wandering as he walks, stuck between the memory of holding you in the water just moments ago and the thought of possibly never doing it again. He sneaks glances at you out of the corner of his eye, admiring the way the sunlight is casting warm rays over your hair and face.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Jake,” you say, giving him a soft smile.

He turns to look at you, a small smile on his lips. He’s a little surprised at your sudden show of gratitude.

He shrugs a little, “You’re welcome. I come here whenever I need a break from things. It’s nice to have somewhere peaceful to escape to…” He trails off and looks away for a moment before continuing. “And nice to have someone to share it with.”

The two of you walk in content silence for most of the trail, the sun starting to dip lower and lower into the sky as the minutes pass. You notice a few clouds overhead, and thank them for a reprieve from the sun. You can feel yourself growing more and more tired with every step and before you know it you’re falling behind Jake. 

It’s as if he can hear your footsteps slowing behind him, and he stops walking, turning to look back at you. You’re several feet behind him now, your steps much more weary than they were earlier.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks at you. “You good, pretty girl?”

Your heart hammers in your chest at the pet name, but the fatigue is setting in so quickly you pay it no mind. “I don't know, I think so. I am just so exhausted suddenly.”

He sees the fatigue etched on your face, the way your steps are slowing down. He takes a step back towards you, concern evident in his eyes.

“You want to stop for a minute?” he asks, his voice softer than usual.

“How much farther is it? I can probably make it,” you ask. 

He takes a moment to think before responding, his eyes scanning over your face and your tired expression. He can tell you’re exhausted, but he also knows that you’re stubborn and determined to get back. “About another half mile, maybe a little less,” he replies. “You sure you can make it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, let’s just keep going,” you say, starting to walk again. It feels like you’re carrying a bag of bricks on your back, but you push through. 

So he silently falls into step beside you, watching like a hawk for any sign of your energy giving out on you. But that's when it hits him, "What if I carried you?"

“Carried me?” you ask.

He looks at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Yeah, carried you. I could give you a piggyback ride the rest of the way.”

“Jake, no…” you whine, deep down loving the idea. 

He laughs aloud at your protest, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, come on, sweetheart, you know you want to. I can see it in your eyes. I bet your legs are going to give out on you any second now.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, feeling hesitant, but he is offering.

He grins, seeing the wheels turning in your head. “I'm sure. C’mere.” He motions for you to turn around, holding his arms open for you to climb onto his back.

You feel his arms wrap around your legs as you climb onto his back, feeling the warmth of his skin against your chest. You practically melt into him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as your nose brushes against his hair, still wet from the creek.

He grunts a bit as you climb onto his back, the weight of you against him sending a wave of warmth through his body. He wraps his arms tightly around your legs, securely holding you in place, and is suddenly acutely aware of how close you are to each other. He can feel your breath on the back of his neck and the way your chest is pressed against his shoulders, the sensation making his heart beat a little faster than usual.

“Are you sure this is okay?" you ask, splaying your hand against his chest.

He takes a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his skin. He nods, his voice a little huskier than usual. “Yeah, it's fine. Don't you worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart.”

He adjusts his grip on you slightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

You walk like that for a little bit, your body quickly succumbing to the rhythmic bouncing from every step he takes. You find your eyes growing heavy, and your head starting to droop, and before you know it, your head is resting on his warm shoulder. 

He can't help but smile to himself as he realizes you've fallen asleep on his back. He adjusts his grip on you, trying to keep you as secure as possible as he continues walking down the trail, humming softly and feeling oddly content with the situation he has found himself in. 

It feels like seconds have passed before he gently taps your leg, waking you up as he speaks. “Hey, sleepyhead. We made it.”

He waits for you to regain your bearings and loosen your grip on him before carefully lowering you down from his back, his hands lingering at your waist for a moment longer than necessary.

“That felt like two minutes, tops,” you giggle.

He laughs, a soft chuckle that makes his chest vibrate. “Yeah, you passed out pretty fast there,” he pauses, “You hungry? I’m starving.”

“Starving,” you answer, maybe a little too quickly. 

He laughs again, the sound still as charming as usual. “Yeah, figured as much. Let's get something going.” 

He makes his way to the cooler, opening it up and pulling a pack of hotdogs from inside, “This looks like it,” he smiles, “Let me get the fire going and we will be cooking in no time.”

“Thanks for carrying me, Jake. Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you say, lowering your voice a little. 

He grins as he sets the hot dogs down, looking up at you. “No problem. And no need to apologize for dozing off.” He glances up as he strikes a match, igniting the kindling. “It was kind of...cute.”

Cute? Oh.

A strong gust of wind blows through the campsite, taking both of you by surprise, tossing a camp chair to its side. 

“Damn,” he says, moving to pick up the chair. He looks up to the sky, the clouds growing heavy and darkening. “We may be in for a bit of rain.”

“Tents are waterproof, right?” you ask nervously.

He chuckles at your question, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, tents are waterproof.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whine. 

He grins, enjoying your playful pout. “I can't help it, you make it too easy.”

He looks at you again, the fire casting a warm glow over his features. “How about you go change into some dry clothes, these hotdogs will be done soon.”

You nod and head into your tent, stripping out of your bathing suit and pulling a t-shirt over your sun warmed skin. You add a pair of leggings and his flannel before stepping back out and seeing him assemble the hotdogs. Your stomach is growling, and you quickly realize you hadn’t eaten all day. 

He looks up as you come out of your tent, his eyes lingering on the way his flannel covers your form. He can feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you in his shirt, but quickly composes himself.

He grins as he sees your expression, your hunger evident. “Ready?”

You nod as he hands you a paper plate, taking the seat next to you at the fire. The air is cooler than it was last night, and the humidity is growing by the second. Both of you quickly eat, very few words shared between the two of you. 

You both toss the paper plates into the fire, making quick work of cleaning up. He disappears into his tent for a few minutes, emerging in warmer clothes. His cheeks have a pink glow from the sun today, and you can’t help but think it makes him all the more pretty in the fire light.

“So what do you think, you gonna make us s’mores again tonight?” he asks, crossing his feet on the ledge of the fire pit.

You turn to look at him, “What? I thought you didn’t like them?”

He laughs softly, turning to look at you, “I like them when you make them,” he says, his confession warming your chest.

“Are you getting soft on me, Kiszka?” you tease, standing up to grab the ingredients from the cooler.

“Me? Soft?” he scoffs, pretending to be offended. “Never in a million years, sweetheart.”

He grins, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk, betraying his feigned annoyance. He grabs the two sticks from last night, holding them out to you as you place the marshmallows on the ends. This time you give him his own stick to hold, both of you twirling the sugary puffs in the flames. 

He carefully twirls his own marshmallow in the flames, occasionally stealing glances at you as you do the same. The air is quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and the distant sound of crickets, a rumble sounds in the distance but you both ignore it.

As the marshmallows puff up, you pull them from the fire, placing them gently on the graham cracker and chocolate. They melt perfectly and again, you offer him his first. He takes it from your hand, biting into it quickly, as you do the same. 

“Truly, I think it’s something about you,” he admits, taking another bite. “They just taste better when you do it.”

“It’s all in your head,” you laugh, licking marshmallows from your finger. His eyes watch as your tongue swipes over the digits, his throat bobbing as he swallows back his nerves. 

A yawn falls from your lips as he looks at you, the earlier exhaustion creeping up on you again. 

“You look tired, sweetheart.”

“I am, it just hit me out of nowhere again,” you admit. 

He chuckles softly, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Yeah, I can tell. You’ve been fighting it for the past twenty minutes.” He looks at you intently, studying your expression in the firelight. “Wanna call it a night?”

“What about you? I don't wanna leave you out here all by yourself?”

He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I can handle myself.” He looks at you, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. “Besides, I don't mind being out here alone. It’s peaceful this time of night.”

“You sure?” you ask, a hint of guilt in your tone. 

He grins, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you. “Yeah, I'm sure. I'll just hang out until the fire smolders and enjoy the quiet out here before I head in.”

He can see the tiredness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to tuck you into the tent and hold you against him all night. But he keeps that last thought to himself. 

“Okay, well, thanks again for today. For showing me your secret place. I had a lot of fun with you," you say, clutching the cuffs of his flannel in your fists.

His heart skips a beat at your words, the sincerity in your tone making his chest ache. He looks at you, his gaze softening as he takes you in. “Don’t mention it, dove. I had a lot of fun too.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod with a bashful smile, “Goodnight, Jake.”

He smiles at you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he replies. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He watches as you disappear into your tent, his eyes fixated on the flaps even after you’ve gone inside. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he looks back to the fire.

He sits there for a while longer, his thoughts consumed by images of you. He can practically still feel the way your skin felt against his, the weight of you on his back as he carried you down the trail. He can still picture the way you looked in his flannel, your eyes tired but still filled with a spark that sent shockwaves through his body. He wanted you, and he always had.

Despite his best efforts he found the feelings that he pushed down for so long had resurfaced with a vengeance, briefly making him question whether they were ever really gone at all. He’d  made up a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t want you, letting it show in his harsh words and hostile demeanor, all the while letting you root your way deeper and deeper into his heart with every caught smile and laugh. He’d done such a good job pushing you away that he started to believe the lies he was telling himself over the last two years. Although, that all came to a screeching halt the minute he decided to let you in last night. The minute you showed him that you wanted to know him beyond surface level, and the minute he realized you were everything he told himself you weren’t.

Inside your tent you are snuggling down into your sleeping bag, replaying the day over and over. The way his hands felt on you, the smile you drew out of him, all of it. You wanted to run back out there and beg him to join you in here, but you know you can't. 

You can hear the fire still crackling, and the sway of the trees in the wind. Thunder is rumbling in the distance, growing closer and closer. You zip the window flaps on your tent for good measure, but that's when you hear it. The sound of a guitar, softly strumming in the breeze. You can tell he is trying to play quietly, but part of you wishes it was just a little louder. 

You don’t recognize the song, but it's soft and sweet and twists your heart in two. You want to know the name. Did he write it? Is it even a real song yet? Instead you lay there, letting the music his hands are producing play you to sleep, wishing every night could be like tonight.

—

A crash of lightning pulls you from your sleep, the sound of the nylon ripping overhead, pulling a scream from your chest. Rain starts to pour into your tent, drenching you and all of your belongings before you even have time to process what's happening. You pull yourself out of your soaking wet tent to see the storm raging around you. The trees whipping wildly through the wind, and the rain falling so hard you can barely see. You turn to look at your tent finding a tree branch laying across the fiberglass poles, effectively ripping the top of your tent. 

“Shit!” you scream, trying to pull your soaked belongings from inside. Jake must have heard the commotion, pulling on his boots as he rushes over towards you.

“What’s going on? What happened?” he shouts, dripping wet from the pouring rain. His eyes are panicked as they search yours for an answer. 

“The tree! A branch fell and ripped my tent, everything is wet! I–”

He grabs your arms, pulling you a little closer to him, “Are you okay?” he asks, not caring about the tent. You came first. 

“Yes, yes! I’m fine, I just– my tent!” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. 

He curses under his breath, the sight of your slashed tent and your wet clothes fueling the anger inside of him. "Damn it," he shouts, trying to keep his cool as he surveys the damage. “Okay, look, just, go get in my tent. I’ll be there in a second.”

You nod graciously and head over to his tent, unzipping the flap and stepping inside. It’s much larger than yours and is filled with real camping equipment. It’s warm, and is lit with a lantern. You see his things laying neatly by his bag, and you do your best not to drip water onto everything. 

Jake watches as you head towards his tent, disappearing inside and zipping the flap behind you. He lets out a breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair before he turns back to your tent. He grabs the offending branch, tossing it aside before he starts to gather your items from inside. He carefully picks up your belongings, dashing over to his car and tossing them in the backseat. His boots are caked with mud as he makes his way back to his tent, leaving his boots outside as he joins you inside. 

“I tried to salvage your stuff, but everything is soaked. I put it in my car to dry out but…” he pauses, wiping the rain off of him as is drips down his face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, realizing that both of you are wet and freezing now. He has the same realization as he crawls towards his bag.

He nods in response to your gratitude, his fingers digging through his belongings to find a dry shirt for you. He pulls out a plain t-shirt, the fabric soft and well-worn. He turns back to you, handing you the shirt as his gaze flits over your soaked form. 

“Here, put this on for now,” he says gruffly, trying to keep his train of thought focused on practicality and not how good you look wearing his clothes. “I just need to change into some dry clothes and then you can go back to sleep.”

“What?” you question, unsure of his logic. 

“I’ll change and then I’ll go sleep in my car, you can take the air mattress,” he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world that you’d get the better accommodations. 

“What? Jake, no. I’m not taking your tent and making you sleep in your car. No way.” you say, putting your foot down. “I’ll sleep in your car.”

He sits there, stunned at your words. He wasn't expecting resistance from you, expecting you to happily accept him taking the brunt of the damage.

“No, Y/N. Absolutely not. You’ll be much warmer here with the sleeping bag and the air mattress. You’re shivering, you’re not sleeping in the cold ass car,” he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep in the car,” you argue. “We can just– both share the air mattress. I’m fine with it if you are.”

He looks at you incredulously, his brain short-circuiting at your suggestion. The thought of sharing that small space with you, of being that close to you in the dark, is both tantalizing and terrifying. He opens his mouth to argue again, but the words get stuck in his throat. He swallows hard, his eyes flicking over your figure again. He wants to protest, to say no and keep his distance, but the look in your eyes dares him to argue.

“Fine,” he relents, his voice gruff and reluctant. “But only if you're sure you're okay with it."

“I’m okay with it Jake,” your voice softer now.

He nods, his eyes searching your expression to be sure you mean it. You nod again and he understands. He digs into his bag again producing a pair of worn gray sweatpants, handing them to you with a gleam in his eye. 

You take the sweatpants from him, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. It's a brief contact, but it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. He turns to give you a bit of privacy, despite seeing you half naked already once today. You quickly strip out of your soaked clothes, shivering from the cold air on your bare skin. You pull on the sweatpants, the warm, soft fabric enveloping your legs. You pull the wet shirt from your body and toss it to the ground before putting on the t-shirt that smells exactly like him. 

“Okay, I'm good,” you say, your voice soft.

He turns around and his breath stutters at the sight of you in his clothes. The sweatpants are a little baggy on you, the legs pooling around your ankles. The t-shirt clings to your curves, the fabric stretched tight over your chest. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body reacting to the sight of you more than it should.

He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool. “You look–” he starts to say, his voice cracking slightly.

“Warm?” you smile, suddenly feeling a bit shy. 

He manages to nod in response to your question, his voice gravelly when he speaks. “Yeah,” he says, his eyes flickering to your face for a moment before darting away again. “Warm."

You turn to offer him the same privacy, listening as you hear his wet clothes hit the ground. He is quick to change, pulling on a pair of boxer shorts and a black long sleeve t-shirt. 

“All good,” he says, moving closer to the air mattress. You try not to stare at him in his boxers, but it’s hard not to. 

He motions towards the air mattress, and you crawl towards it, positioning yourself on one side as he takes the other. You notice that you must be occupying the side he was previously on, seeing a book and a water bottle sitting next to your head. 

He crawls onto the air mattress beside you, the small space suddenly feeling much smaller with the two of you in it. He tries to keep some distance between you both, not wanting to get too close and make you uncomfortable.  The air in the tent is thick with tension, the heat of your bodies so close together in the small space. The rain continues to pour outside, falling harshly against the nylon of the tent.

He can hear your breathing, the sound of each intake of breath filling the silence between you. He's acutely aware of your presence beside him, your body just inches away from his, and he is doing everything in his power from pulling you into him.

“Were you reading?” you ask, trying to fill the silence. He looks surprised that you've spoken, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment. He'd been caught up in his thoughts, lost in the feeling of being so close to you in the small space.

He nods, gesturing towards the book next to your head. “Yeah, I was.” he says, his voice a little gruff. “It's a pretty good book.”

“What's it about?” you ask, rolling to face him.

He takes a moment to remember the premise of the book, his mind still a little clouded with the feeling of being so close to you.

“It's um, it’s a crime thriller,” he replies. “It's about a detective trying to solve a series of murders in a small town. It's pretty intense, actually.” 

You giggle, “I wouldn't have taken you for a thriller novel kind of guy.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what kind of guy did you think I would be?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“I don’t know. Maybe a biography guy? History maybe?”

He chuckles at your response, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Biographies and history, huh? I mean, I read those too,” he says with a smirk. “But I like a good thriller from time to time.”

He glances over at you, his eyes trailing over your features as you yawn. He reaches over and turns off the lantern, leaving the two of you in darkness with the sound of the rain. 

“You tired?” he asks, his voice a little softer now. 

“Yeah, a little, but that kind of woke me up. I can't lie,” you answer, shivering a little as you lay on the air mattress. Jake seems to notice and immediately sits up, unzipping his sleeping bag and tossing half of it onto your body. His movements are quick and practiced, his eyes flickering to your face to make sure you're covered up.

He lays back down, his body now closer to yours under the shared cover. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart. The silence hangs in the air again, the sound of the rain outside the only noise breaking through the tension between you. He can hear your breathing beside him, your body so close to his under the covers. He's acutely aware of the feel of your body heat radiating against his skin, the proximity of your bodies igniting a spark inside of him.

He tries to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling of the tent, but they keep drifting back towards you, taking in the way your hair fans out around your face as you look at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. 

You slide your hand up to rest on his cheek, warm and stubbly, “Thank you for coming to save me,” you breathe.

His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of your hand on his cheek, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. He leans into your palm, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the warmth of your touch making his skin tingle. He opens his eyes, looking over at you with a mixture of surprise and something else. Something...soft.

“I'll always come save you,” he says, his voice low and gentle.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, pink and full, before meeting his dark brown eyes again. “All this time I thought you hated me.”

He swallows hard, his eyes fixed on yours as he hears your words. He can feel the tension coiled tight in the space between you, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desire. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering over your face as if he's searching for something. 

Finally, he speaks. “I don't hate you,” he says, his voice low and soft. “I’ve never hated you, I always liked you. Too much, probably.”

“What?”

He takes a deep breath, the words spilling out of him before he can stop them.

“I never hated you, sweetheart,” he repeats, his voice softer this time. “I always liked you, maybe a little too much. I remember when Josh met Clara, he told me that you, specifically, were off limits. Of course at that point it was already too late. I swear it just made me want you more. I knew I couldn't go against him, though. I knew he had his reasons. I just...I didn’t know how to deal with it, being around you and not being able to have you, so I pushed you away. It was the only thing that worked.”

His eyes meet yours, his expression vulnerable and open. “It was easier to be cold to you than to be myself and fall for someone that I can't have.”

“Jake,” you breathe, sliding your thumb against his cheek. He closes his eyes at the sound of his name on your lips, feeling your thumb glide along his skin. It feels like electricity zipping through his body, igniting every nerve ending all at once. He turns his face towards your touch, his cheek pressing into your palm as he revels in the feeling.

“He didn’t even tell me that you were going to be on this trip. He knew I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were going to be here, too. He knew I wouldn’t subject myself to that. Honestly, I was doing okay controlling myself, until today.”

“Today, at the creek…” you continue. 

His eyes flutter open, his gaze locking with yours as he hears you mention it. The memory of that moment floods through his mind, the sight of your body in the water burned into his brain.

He swallows hard, his throat dry as he nods in response. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Today at the creek,” he repeats, his voice hoarse. 

You nod your head and bite your lip as your mind replays its own memories. 

He shifts his body subtly closer to you, the heat between you growing with each passing moment. He can feel the tension building to a fever pitch, the air thick with desire and need.

“I wanted to kiss you, sweetheart. I really did. I almost did. Touching you like that, fuck. You letting me carry you back. Just sitting by the fire with you. It’s the best day I have had in a long ass time. Didn’t want it to end, but I knew you were exhausted. I wanted to tell you tonight, but things just didn’t work out. I figured it was probably for the best,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your hand drops to his chest, the warmth of his skin evident through his t-shirt, “I wanted you to kiss me, Jake. I wanted your hands on me, everywhere. In fact, I never don’t want your hands on me,” you say, feeling his hand nervously slide up and over the curve of your waist. 

He listens to your words, disbelief and desire warring within him as he realizes you feel the same way he does. He swallows hard, his hand on your waist trembling slightly as he absorbs your words. He slides closer to you, his body now pressed snugly against yours under the covers. Your faces are so close that he can feel your breath on his cheek.

“Well fuck me, sweetheart,” he growls. His eyes rake over your features, taking in the way your pupils are dilating with desire, the flush on your cheeks and the way your breath hitches when he moves closer to you.

He’s never seen you look so beautiful, and the realization that he’s the cause of it makes his heart swell in his chest. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers, his voice barely louder than a breath. 

“Jake,” you beg. 

His heart clenches at the sound of you begging for him, the need in your voice nearly driving him mad with desire. He wants to hear you say his name again and again, to feel your body against his and your skin under his hands.

He leans closer to you, his breath warm against your neck as he speaks. “Say my name again, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“Kiss me, Jake,” you plead, unable to wait a second longer. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. At your words, he crashes his lips against yours in a desperate kiss, all of the tension and desire between you finally igniting in a blaze of passion.

His hands roam over your body, exploring all the curves he’s wanted to touch for so long. He kisses you deeply, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

He shifts his body over yours, pinning you to the air mattress as he continues to kiss you hungrily. His hands slide up your body, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head in place, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth.

He moans lowly, the sound muffled as his body presses flush against yours under the covers. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, the sensation driving him mad with desire. 

Your hands snake around his waist, sliding beneath his shirt, and pulling it up and over his head. He lets out a sharp breath as he feels your hands on his skin, the feeling of your fingers against his bare flesh sending a shiver down his spine. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, pulling back just enough to let you yank the shirt over his head and toss it aside.

He takes a moment to admire your flushed cheeks and the way your eyes trail over his now bare torso. He grins at the hungry look in your eyes as you take in his muscular chest and stomach. 

“Don’t look at me like that sweetheart, it’ll get you into trouble.” he warns.

“I like trouble,” you say, drinking in the sight of him as he pins you to the air mattress. 

He laughs at your response, the sound deep and gravelly in his chest. “You would,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “I think that’s why I like you.”

He leans back down to capture your lips in another kiss, his bare chest now pressed against yours. He runs his hands up and down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips beneath your sweatpants.

As he kisses you, he slips his thigh between your legs, pressing his body even closer against yours. He runs his tongue along your jawbone, trailing kisses along your neck as he moves down to your throat.

He sucks lightly at your pulse point, nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it with his tongue. His fingers reach for the hem of your t-shirt slowly dragging it up over your body.  “Take this off for me, dove,” he whispers.

You lift up, letting him drag the old, threadbare shirt over your chest. His eyes take in the sight of your bare skin in the low light of the tent. His breath stutters at the sight of your body, the way the light dances across your curves making his throat go dry.

He lets out a low moan as he looks at you, his hands roaming freely over your bare skin. “Goddamn,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gorgeous.”

His hands trace the curves of your breasts, sliding down over your waist and to the waistband of your sweatpants. His eyes lock onto yours as his hands move down your body, his touch searing against your skin. He teases at the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers tracing soft circles against your hip bones.

He can feel the warmth of your body beneath his palm, the way your skin twitches in anticipation under his touch sending a jolt of desire through his body. “Can I take these off?” he whispers, his voice rough with need.

“Please,” you beg. 

He grins at your response, the sound of you begging awakening something primal in him. He slides his hands into the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he slowly starts to pull them down your legs.

His eyes never leave your face as he exposes more and more of your body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. Once he's removed the offending article of clothing, he lets his gaze roam over your body once again. His eyes trail over your bare skin, taking in the way the light from the storm outside casts shadows over your curves. He reaches out, his hands tracing over your legs, his touch gentle and reverent.

He can feel the heat radiating from your core, the way your body responds to his touch making him ache with desire. He leans down, pressing kisses over your stomach and hips, his lips roaming over your skin like a man starved.

You can hardly stand it, the feel of his lips on your skin is making you feel insane, “Touch me, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. He leans back, locking his eyes with yours as he reaches for your hips once again, gripping them firmly.

“I'll touch you, baby,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “As much as you want. Where do you want my hands, sweetheart?”

“Everywhere, Jake. I told you,” you beg. 

“That’s quite the request, darling,” he says, the sound of the air mattress echoing as he repositions himself as carefully as possible. Your hands tug at the waistband of his boxers, eliciting a laugh from his chest. 

“Impatient, baby?”

“I just want you, Jake.” you confess. 

“I want you too, sweetheart, you have no idea,” he whispers, his eyes locking with yours.

He pushes his boxers down, kicking them off somewhere in the tent as he moves back over you. He braces himself on his forearms, his body pressed flush against yours again as he looks down at you. You get a wicked gleam in your eye, hooking your leg around his, and twisting until you are over top of him, straddling his waist. 

He grins up at you, his eyes raking over your body. “Well I’ll be damned, look at you,” he says, a note of surprise and arousal in his voice.

You give him a proud smile, sitting happily on top of him, enjoying the view below. You can feel how wet you are as it coats your inner thighs, and you know he is privy to this as well as the light reflects from your thighs.  

“You look so damn good on top of me,” he says, his voice rough and low. “Like you belong there. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re fucking hot,” you counter, brushing the hair off of his face. 

He lets out a laugh at your words, a grin spreading across his face. “And so articulate too,” he teases, his grip on your hips tightening as he speaks. His hand moves towards your center, his thumb brushing lightly against your clit. 

“Jesus,” you whine, his touch sending you soaring. 

“Not here, love,” he smirks. 

You grind yourself against him, a moan falling from his lips, “What was that you were saying?” you ask playfully. 

“Oh shit,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continue to move against him. He opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he tries to compose himself. “Don’t tease me sweetheart, it’s unbecoming.” he says, his voice rough.

You lift up to your knees, hovering over him enough to grab his length in your fist. A hiss leaves his chest at your touch, his jaw falling open as his eyes lock on yours. You drag his tip through your wetness, his eyes growing impossibly darker at the sensation. 

“Fuck me,” he pants, “Listen, if we’re gonna do this, I want to go slow. I have fucking dreamed about this moment. That and if I fuck you how I want to fuck you, we will pop this air matress. That will be for another time.”

You nod as you slowly sink down over him, taking every inch he has to offer. “Another time, huh? What makes you think–”

He delivers a pointed thrust up into you, stealing the air from your lungs. 

“That. That’s what makes me think, sweetheart,” he answers, grabbing your hips and helping you start to move on top of him. 

“Fuck, Jake,” you whine, feeling him stretch you out so completely. So fully. 

He lets out a low growl at your words, the sound filled with desire and need. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low and gruff.

His hands grip your hips even tighter as you move above him, his fingers digging into your skin as his body responds to your movements. “You feel so good, sweetheart, better than I imagined.” he groans, his eyes locked on yours.

You start to move your hips in a wave pattern, his length hitting you right where you need him. A cry leaves your chest as you toss your head back, feeling his hand move to support your lower back. The heat of the tent combined with the friction between you is making things even hotter, both of you growing sweaty and breathless as you move against each other.

He lets out a low moan, his hands moving up your body to grip your shoulders tightly. “Christ, baby, you’re a fucking dream,” he groans, his body arching up against yours as he snaps his hips up to meet yours. 

“Harder, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a sharp gasp as you say his name, his eyes darkening with desire. “Harder?” he asks, his voice thick and rough. “You want it harder, sweetheart?”

“Please, baby,” you whine.

He lets out a low growl at your plea, his hands tightening on your shoulders. “Yeah sweetheart, I got you.” he murmurs, his voice low and guttural. “Give you anything you want.”

You lean down letting him capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he pulls you closer against him. His hips buck upwards with more force now, his body moving against yours with increasing intensity. Your stomach is burning with need and you know it won’t be much longer until you burst into flames. 

“Don’t stop, baby, please,” you cry out, feeling your stomach growing hot. He lets out a muffled groan at your words, his hands gripping you tighter as he continues to fuck you. 

“God, you feel incredible,” he gasps, his mouth moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His hands move towards your ass, his fingers gripping into the supple flesh as he thrusts up into you. Your skin is slick with sweat and arousal, the lewd sounds filling the tent with the sound of the rain. He can hardly contain his moans now, matching your energy in the small tent.

“Sit up, I want to look at your tits while I fuck you,” he growls. 

You hear a hint of dominance fall from his lips and you can’t help but to obey. You sit up, straddling him again, as he leans up on his elbows to watch you. 

He lets out a guttural moan as you do as he asks, sitting up above him and giving him an even better view of your body. He runs his hand up your thigh, his eyes locked on your face.

“You like this?” you say, swirling your hips in a figure eight. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “I like this a lot.” His hand moves to cup at your tits, bouncing as you continue to fuck him. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby.”

“I always am,” you say, biting at your bottom lip as you try to stave off your orgasm. 

He smiles at your response, his hands still gripping your thighs. He leans up again, capturing your lips in another intense kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he pulls you closer against him. He bites at your lower lip, his teeth grazing your skin softly. The feeling of his teeth on your skin pushes you over the edge, and you’re sure he can feel you tightening around him. 

“I’m close, baby,” you whine. 

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice thick with desire. "Gonna come for me, sweetheart?"

He slides his hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it slowly and insistently. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers, his mouth moving to your ear. “Come right on my cock, just like this.”

“Come with me, Jake,” you beg, feeling his lips connect to the side of your neck. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, his body shuddering as he nears the edge. “Yeah...yeah I'm there sweetheart, I’m right fucking there,” he gasps, his hands gripping you tightly as his body moves against yours. “Say you’re mine, baby.”

Just the thought of him wanting to claim you as his sends you over the edge, your body giving in to your orgasm as you fall apart on top of him. “I’m yours Jake. Yours.”

He lets out a deep, guttural moan at your words, his body shuddering as he loses himself in your arms. “That’s right sweetheart, you're fucking mine,” he gasps, his voice ragged. “Mine and no one else's.”

He holds you close as he comes, his body shaking and shuddering against yours. "Fuck," he groans, his grip on you tight as he rides out the waves of his own release, hot as it spills inside of you. 

“Jake, fuck,” you pant, finally coming down from what is probably the best orgasm of your life. 

“God you’re fucking sexy,” he pants, “Jesus Christ. Incredible, actually.”

“You’re incredible,” you smile, lifting up and off of him. His hands don’t leave you though, not wanting you to stray too far. 

He grins at your words, his arms tightening around you as he holds you close. “You give me too much credit, sweetheart,” he says, his voice gruff and spent. “We just fucked on an air mattress,” he laughs.

He leans back and looks at you, a satisfied smile on his face. “God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” he admits, his eyes roving over your face.

“Probably as long as I have if I had to guess,” you smile. 

He lets out a low chuckle, a grin spreading across his face as he nods. “You'd be right about that,” he says, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. “I've wanted you for a long time, sweetheart. Longer than I care to admit.”

“Well you have me now?” you say nervously.

His expression softens at your words, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do,” he says softly. He cups your face in his hand, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “And I'm not letting you go. You're mine now, sweetheart.”

“I think I always wanted to be,” you confess.

He grins at your words, a possessive glint in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nod sweetly as you reach for your clothes, the chill returning to the tent. You hand him his shirt and his boxers, pulling his sweats and t-shirt back over your body. He watches as you dress yourself in his clothing, a satisfied smile on his face. 

“You look so fucking hot in my clothes, please never try to give them back,” he says, his eyes raking over you with a smile. 

You giggle and shake your head, watching him pull his own clothes on before crawling back onto the air mattress. You snuggle into his side, feeling his arms wrap around you. He pulls you closer against him, nuzzling his face into your damp hair, his breath hot against your neck.

He lets out a content sigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin as he holds you close. “I could get used to this,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy.

“Oh, no, I thought you liked camping alone,” you tease with a giggle.

He laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah yeah, shut up,” he says playfully, giving your side a squeeze. He snuggles into you more, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. “Don't get used to me wanting your company,” he jokingly warns you.

“Oh yeah? Want me gone by morning?” you taunt, letting your fingers trace shapes into his stomach.

He grins against your skin, his arms tightening around you. “Oh, I don't know if I'll wait that long,” he teases back. He presses soft, gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder, his lips moving slowly over your skin. “I might just kick you out now.”

“Ahh, there you are. I was wondering where you went. You were being far too sweet.” you tease.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you. “Oh? You prefer me mean, is that it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. He gives you a playful nudge, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I can be an ass if you want, sweetheart. It really is no problem.”

“No, no. I think I'll keep you just like this.” you say nuzzling under his chin. You listen to the steady beating of his heart, feeling your eyes grow tired. He runs his fingers through your hair, a soft, soothing gesture meant to lull you to sleep. He grins slightly as he feels your breathing begin to slow, knowing that you're on the verge of sleep. 

“Tired, sweetheart?” he asks quietly, his voice soft and low.

“I am now,” you whisper. 

He lets out a soft chuckle at your sleepy response, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, his fingers resuming their gentle caresses through your hair. 

“Then close your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice even quieter now. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Goodnight, Jake,” you breathe, slipping quickly. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers continuing to gently massage your scalp as he feels you slowly drift off to sleep.

—

You wake the next morning finding that the sun hasn't risen fully yet, and the air is chilly. You’re warm though, wrapped up in Jake beneath the sleeping bag.  He feels you stirring next to him, a smile spreading across his face as he feels you wake up. He's been lying awake for a little while now, just watching you sleep and enjoying the feeling of you in his arms.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep. 

“Morning,” you answer, turning to look at his tired face.

He grins as you reply to him, his arms tightening around you. “Sleep well?” he asks, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

“So good. Did you?” you ask with a sleepy yawn.

He chuckles softly, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah, I slept great,” he replies, his voice still rough and gravelly. He shifts slightly, pulling you closer against him and nuzzling his face into your hair. “Best night's sleep I've had in a long time.”

You smile as you roll into him, placing a kiss on his warm chest.

He lets out a low groan at your kiss, his body shuddering slightly as he feels your lips on his skin. “Careful, sweetheart. You keep doing things like that and we'll never get out of this tent.”

“I’m kinda sad that we have to leave today,” you say, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. 

He smiles down at you, his eyes soft and tender. “Yeah, me too,” he admits, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It's been nice having you all to myself. Don't want to share you with the rest of the world, now.”

You giggle against his chest, a warmth washing over you as you feel his fingers moving lazily against your skin, “Ugh, the rest of the world, don’t remind me…”

“Actually, speaking of, Josh texted me,” he says, a chuckle leaving his chest. 

“Did he?”

“Yeah, said he hoped we hadn’t killed each other because neither of them had heard from us since they left,” he smiles, pulling you tight against him. 

You gasp, realizing he’s right, “Shit, I– I totally forgot about them.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you, “Yeah, I did too. I guess we were just– a little preoccupied,” he grins. 

“Do we tell them?” you ask nervously. 

He considers it for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, “I mean, yeah, we probably should,” he pauses, “They don’t need the details, but I think they should know.”

“Won’t Josh be mad?” you ask, scared of his answer. 

He laughs at your question. “Yeah, absolutely he will. He'll give me one of his long winded lectures about being nice to you and treating you right. Make some threats about what he'll do if I hurt you. You know, the usual.” 

You nudge him with your elbow, “Maybe that isn’t a half bad idea,” you tease.

He laughs, feigning offense. “Hey now, don't side with him,” he says, giving you a playful nudge in return. He pulls you closer against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “But seriously, I don't think Josh will be too surprised. I think he's always known something was bound to happen between the two of us whether he wanted it to or not.”

“I’m glad it finally did.”

He grins, his eyes locking on yours. “Me too, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, his body enveloping yours as he holds you tightly against him. “I just wish we had more time alone together,” he says, his voice suddenly serious.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“I mean, once we leave here it’s going to be different, you know? We’ll have the band, tour, media, friends, all of it. I just– I know it’s a lot to deal with. You’ve been around Josh and Clara, you know how it can be. I just– I want you around, but I don’t want that to scare you away.”

You smirk at him, “It’s not going to scare me away, Jake. I just want you to be really sure this is something you want to get into right now.”

He looks into your eyes, his expression serious. “I’m sure,” he says firmly. “I know it’s not going to be easy. I know there will be challenges. But I’m sure about you. About us.” He takes your face in his hands, his palms cupping your cheeks. “You’re all I want. Nothing else matters.”

You nod your head in his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, “Okay, then I’m in if you are.”

His eyes soften as you kiss his palm, a smile spreading across his face. “I'm more than in,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “I don't want you to ever doubt that. I'm yours, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you against him. “And I plan on showing you just how much I want you, every single day.”

“Well, everyday until tour starts back up, right?” you tease playfully. 

He laughs, shaking his head at your taunting, “Yeah, alright, smartass,” he grins, giving you a playful pinch on the side. He rolls over on top of you, his body pressing you down into the air mattress as he looks down at you with a smirk. “Don't worry, I'll make up for the lost time.”

“Oh, tempting…Maybe on a real bed? Not an air mattress?” you smirk. 

He chuckles, his eyes raking over your body, "Is this your way of asking me to take you home with me, sweetheart?" he grins.

“Unless you’d like a redo on my twin size,” you quip.

“Baby, have you ever been on a tour bus?” he giggles, pressing kisses to your neck.

You shake your head, laughing as his fingers tickle into your ribs, “No.”

“Mmm, you’re in for a real treat.” He grins down at you, his eyes glinting with desire. "Yeah, I think a real bed sounds like a good idea. And a real shower."

“A shower…” you breathe, the idea sounding desperately appealing. 

He laughs, noticing the way you react to the idea. “Yeah baby, a shower. A big, hot shower with actual water pressure. And a nice bed with sheets and blankets and the best feather pillows you’ve ever laid your head on.”

“Mhmm, maybe we should pack up now and get there immediately,” you giggle. 

“We should.” He presses his lips to yours again, warm as they linger there, “To be continued,” he says, pushing up off of the air mattress and stepping out into the sun. 

You spend the rest of the morning packing up the campsite, tearing down your tents and loading them into his car, sneaking glances at each other every few minutes. Jake works to organize everything into the small trunk, with the addition of your tent and Josh and Clara’s. You drain the cooler as he closes the trunk, dusting his hands off on his pants. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yep! Just this and we are all set,” you shout. 

He walks over to you, grabbing the cooler and walking it back to his car with you in tow. He opens the passenger side door for you, gesturing you inside, before joining you on the other side. 

“You know, I really am kind of sad to leave,” you laugh, “I never thought I would be saying that, but–”

“It’s a magical place,” he smiles, “S’why I come here so much.”

“Maybe we can come back?” you ask, tilting your head against the headrest. 

“Oh definitely,” he answers, “Whenever you want, sweetheart.” His hand comes to rest on your knee, his thumb stroking against your skin as he navigates the car out of the woods and back towards the road. You give him a warm smile, feeling the air conditioner bring chills to your skin. 

“Hey, I was um, I was serious about you coming home with me,” he says, taking his eyes off of the road to meet yours in a quick glance. 

“Oh, I mean, I would like that. If you’re really sure,” you answer nervously. 

He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze, a smile coming to his lips, “I’m really sure. I want to be with you as much as I can before I leave. Want you in my bed, my shower, the whole house really. All of it. I just want you.”

You blush, his words sending a shockwave through your system, “Okay.”

He grins widely, “Good.” He squeezes your thigh, his palm hot against your skin. “Should be home pretty quick, now.” 

“It is Sunday funday, right?” you giggle. “But, I guess that's kinda everyday for you, isn’t it?”

“Very funny,” he taunts, his expression growing serious, “But yes. It is,” he answers, grabbing your attention as you turn to look at him. He sends you a playful wink as he pats your thigh, letting out a deep breath that almost seemed like he was relieved. 

“Let me make you dinner tonight,” he says, keeping his stare focused on the overgrown highway. “Real dinner.”

“Oh, real dinner, huh?” you tease, placing your hand over top of his. “I feel like I vaguely remember hearing about you being a good cook, but I can’t remember for sure.”

He laughs, “What else have you heard about me, baby?”

Just as you go to answer his phone rings through the car speakers. You can see on the display that it is Josh calling him, and he glances to you before accepting the call. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

“Dude, are you two alive? What the fuck is going on?” he asks, a tone of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Yeah we are alive. You know there’s no reception out there. Kinda the reason I go,” he says, hoping to jog his memory. 

“So you didn’t kill each other, that’s great news.” Josh says, and you can hear Clara laughing in the background.

Jake looks over at you, his eyes silently begging the question of if he should break the news to him. You take a minute to consider the risks but decide there really aren’t any. You nod eagerly at Jake, watching as he nods back in understanding. 

“Hey, uh, you two busy tonight?” he asks, his one hand gripping the steering wheel. 

“Not that I know of, why?” he answers. 

“Well, we are just now on our way back. Need to unload, shower, all that. How about you guys come over for dinner tonight? I’m cooking,” he says. You can sense the nerves in his tone, his face serious as he waits for Josh’s reply. 

“Um, yeah yeah that should be…good. You said we… Is… there a we?” he asks, his voice a little quieter. 

“Just come over tonight. Both of you. Just got some things to tell you,” he says, a smile pulling across his lips. 

A huff leaves his lips, “Things to tell me?”

“Hi Josh!” you say, speaking up on the call. 

“Holy shit, hey Y/N,” Josh answers, a hint of bewilderment in his voice. 

“See you tonight?” you ask, hearing him gasp in shock. You can hear him pull the phone away from his ear, doing his best to cover the microphone with his hand, “Holy fuck, Clara you were right. It happened,” he says in a mumbled mess. You know he did not intend for either of you to hear it, but you did.

“Josh?” Jake says, pulling him back to the call. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Sorry, yeah– we will definitely be there.”

“See you tonight, Josh?” you ask, lacing your fingers with Jake’s, feeling his warm hand in yours. He leans over and kisses your cheek before settling back in his seat.

You listen to Josh laugh through the speakers, sighing as he speaks, “Yeah, I guess I will see you tonight.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

xo, N

Taglist: @gretavanmoon @wetkleenex-gvf @eyelinerjake @farfromthehomelands @sacredstarcatcher @britney-gvf @stardustjake @jakesmustache @starshine-wagner @mweasley19 @joopsenthusiast @ageofbajabule @ladywhimsymoon @vanfleeter @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @ageoflou @freefallthoughts @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @literal-dead-leaf @welllauragvf @writingcold @bizzielisteningtogreta @neptune2324 @itsafullmoon @violet-hayes @gvfmarge @demonrat444 @mybussyinchrist @cl0ver-j4de @earthgrlsreasy @what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama @mama-likes72 @laurngvf @racheljuneeee @farfromthehomelands @cat3rpillarbaby @cassiesgreta @jarmonicasweat@ghostly--photography @josh-iamyour-mama @raviolilegs @gvfmarge @milkgemini @jaketlove @watchingover-hypegirl @ageoflou @cl0ver-j4de @takenbythemadness @lightmyloverry

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[sturnsdarling]

gloves off

Hockeyplayer!Matt is on the ice, and a guy from the other team says something about his girl, so Matt deals with him

vibe check: based of this edit, violence, fighting descriptions, blood, fluff at the end, lowkey pick me vibes from reader but i don't actually care i love being cringe

1.7k words

A/N: I got a req for hockey matt and didn't see it until i saw that edit... I know some people don't like it but angry!matt makes my coochie tingle

love and cigs, merc

It was weekly occurrence, coming to watch Matt play hockey. Sometimes you were just watching him practice, others you were watching actual games. Today was the latter, his team was playing against the rival college, a game everyone had been waiting for for months.

They had spent weeks working their way up the leagues to finally get into the final stretch against each other, the school rivalry going back decades and either side being riddled with personal beef, some petty, some slightly more serious.

It was half way through the match, Matt had already been given multiple penalties for violent behaviour, slamming kids into the ice and barriers, sometimes because they deserved it, mostly because it was fun.

There was one specific kid on the other team, Josh Anderson, and Matt fucking hated him. They went through all of school together, playing hockey against each other since they could hold a stick. Anderson had always been bigger than Matt, until he had his growth spurt, and he made it his personal mission to make Matts life a living hell purely because he could. They hadn't played against each other in nearly three years, and Matt knew he had to come down hard on him.

They spent the whole first half of the game tormenting each other, pissing each other off in every way possible. Matt had already broken a stick, whacking his first one off the barrier after Anderson got him a penalty for something ridiculous. He was by the sidelines, standing with you as you taped his new stick for him, a tradition you had started even before you started dating.

"I'm gonna fuckin' bury him" Matt said, eyes trained on Anderson as he rubbed small circles on your arm.

You were taping the stick with green tape, your favourite colour, and just letting Matt rant, "he's irrelevant, my love, don't let him get under your skin" you cooed, knowing it would go in one ear and out the other.

"I dunno who he thinks he is, fuckin' pussy always coming after me like I wont break his jaw" Matt wasn't listening to you, but you didn't mind, you knew what he was like when he got in the zone for hockey, especially when he was pissed off.

You finished taping up his stick, scanning it with a satisfied hum and handing it to him, catching his attention. He looked to you with a clenched jaw that relaxed the moment he looked in your soft eyes.

"thanks, baby" Matt smiled, leaning over the barriers slightly to kiss you before pulling his helmet over his head properly and putting in his mouth guard.

He pushed away, skating across the ice to take his place, waiting for the second half buzzer to go off. As it did, he pointed to you, followed by a double tap on his chest plate, one for every year you'd been together.

The game began, and they didn't hold back at all. Matt was angrier than ever, and knowing that only made Anderson more eager to piss him off. They played for about ten minutes before the score shifted in the other teams favour. Anderson skated across the ice, celebrating a goal he didn't even score and b-lined for Matt, skating past him and maintaining eye contact through their helmets.

"Yo, Sturniolo, when we win, tell your girl I want her on her knees for me in the locker rooms as my trophy" Anderson said, his tone smug as a sly grin formed on his face.

A hot rage flooded through Matt, every once of anger boiling to the surface as he watched Anderson skate around him, taunting him to do something. His jaw clenched tight, and he saw red.

Matt threw his stick on the ice, bounding over to Anderson and pushing him backwards, sending him flying back onto the ice. Everyone in the stadium gasped in sync, and you immediately stood to your feet.

"you wanna say shit about my girl? huh? say it again, I fuckin' dare you" Matt spat, pulling out his mouth guard and standing over Anderson on the ice.

Anderson just laughed, pushing himself to his feet and pulling his mouth guard out.

"still that same angry little kid, aren't you Sturniolo?" He grinned, pressing his tongue to his teeth.

"yeah, I am, and you're still the same fuckin' loser you were back then, so come on, Anderson, say something about my girl again" Matt said, squaring up to the boy, who was once double his height, that he was now eye to eye with.

Everyone in the stadium had stopped, time standing still as the whole room watched the disaster in front of them unfold, not even the ref was getting involved, knowing from the events of the first half that the boys clearly had something to sort out.

"ion' want your bum ass girl, Sturns, she's probably been passed around the whole team" Anderson chuckled, looking to the boys all standing round in anticipation.

That was all it took, before Anderson could look back, Matts gloves were off, and his fist was connected with the plastic of Andersons helmet, sending it flying across the ice as Matts knuckles connected with Andersons jaw.

Matt sent him flying onto the ice, crawling on top of him and pummelling into him relentlessly. The whole room erupted, people screaming to get Matt off him, Matts team cheering him on and Andersons team berating the ref for not stopping it. No one even tried to get involved, all slightly terrified by the sight of Matt denting the ice with the back of Andersons skull. You on the other hand, were begging security to let you on the ice, moving in a flash the moment you saw Matt take his gloves off

Matt was relentless, and Anderson was just as bad, hitting Matt back the best he could. There was a split second where Anderson was on top of Matt, laying into him and cracking the plastic face shield off the bridge of his nose. Matt simply smiled with blood covered teeth, just before cocking his head forward, head butting Anderson with the plastic of his helmet, and the next thing you knew, Matt was back on top of him, punching him over and over again.

You finally got onto the ice, struggling to walk straight as you screamed Matts name over and over again. He couldn't hear you, he was in a world of his own, laying into the nearly unconscious boy beneath him.

"Matt!" You screamed, grabbing his arm as he raised it once more to hit Anderson with a final blow.

Your touch brought Matt back to reality, his attention snapping to you immediately. His eyes were bloodshot, a bruise already forming on his definitely broken nose as bright red blood began to dry on the lower half of his face. The look of pleading on your face, the tears pricking in your eyes and your grip on Matts wrist, made all the muscles in his body relax.

"stop, please" you said, softly.

Matt looked up at you, brows flinching slightly before he looked down to Andersons groaning, stuttering body on the ice, and then back to you. You lowered your head slightly, looking at Matt through your lashes with pleading eyes. He couldn't help but crumble, getting up off the ice and near enough melting into your arms.

Your hands round his shoulders, his arms round your waist and head buried in your neck, you just stood their on the ice for what felt like forever, rubbing Matts back with slow touches as everyone began to tend to Anderson.

"lets go, yeah?" you muttered to Matt, and he nodded into your neck.

In the locker rooms,

Matt sat on the bench opposite you, his broken helmet next to him as you perched on the bench, patting the blood from his face with a damp, warm towel. He hissed with every touch, and you apologised softly nearly every time.

"that was really fucking stupid, Matt" You said, looking at his bloodied features intently.

Matt sighed, "I know" He scanned over your face as you gently cared for him.

"you could get kicked from the team" You said, shaking your head slightly

Matt hissed as you brushed his bruised and blooded nose with the towel, "I know" he repeated.

"so then why did you do it?" You asked, only a small once of judgement in your tone.

"he said shit about you" Matt admitted

You stopped your movements, pulling your eyes from Matts nose to lock eyes with him. He was already looking at you, eyes sad like a puppy. You sighed, shaking your head as an uncontrollable half smile formed on your face.

Matts bloodied hand came to your jaw, cupping your cheek in his big hand as his thumb rubbed the soft skin there.

"he started speaking about you, and - and I just lost it" Matt said, his tone soft.

You leaned into his touch, brows furrowed slightly as your eyes poured into his bright blue ones, flitting between them.

"the kid has basically bullied me my whole life, and now I'm finally just as big as he is, I jus-" Matt sighed, "I needed a reason to batter him, and he gave me one"

"me?" you questioned with tight knit brows

Matt nodded, pressing his thumb into your skin with more pressure, "you're the most important thing in my life, more than any stupid place on the team or petty childhood beef, n' I can handle him comin' for me, I don't give a fuck, but he came for you and-" frustrated tears started to form in his eyes, so he stopped talking.

You practically melted at the sight, pressing a long kiss into Matts palm,

"I love you" you said, softly.

Matt smiled slightly, despite the pain it caused him and brought your head to his lips, pressing a short kiss onto your forehead.

"I love you more" Matt replied.

Normally, you would have gotten into a twenty minute long back and forth about who loved who more, but today, Matt had earned rights to that title, and even though the way he handled the situation wasn't ideal, at least you knew you never had to doubt his love for you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy

[slutforfinnickodair]

HI BBG😻😻 I was wondering if you could write something for Sam Monroe like maybe he has a prince albert piercing?! I’m going feral rn. Okay love yaa

At the piercer

Pairing: Older!F!Reader x Sam Monroe

plot: Sam is in a little need of some money and after one of his friends bets him a lot of it in change for that piercing, he goes to visit one of his friends.

warnings: oral (male receiving), piercings, talk of smoking and use of drugs, age gap — sam is like 21 reader is more like 29, cheating

a/n: holy cow. WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS PLEASE MESSAGE ME😭🙏 By the way guys my inbox is open so please give me some requests😻

word count: 1.4k

—

“Yo, dude.” Josh nudged Sam by his shoulders. Sam gave him a look from the side before taking off his headphones that were blasting Metallica a moment ago.

“What do you want?” His hoarse voice made Josh want to laugh but he stood his ground.

“Want to bet five hundred bucks?” Josh said while leaning against the fence of their house.

Sam sighed before thinking of it. Five hundred bucks would be good for at least three pounds of weed. Maybe he could get some cigarettes along with it or even pills.

“What’s the deal?” Sam stood up from the grass, making Josh smirk before he turned his head to look at Thomas.

“He won’t do it man let it go.” Tommy shook his head while Josh kicked his leg making Thomas buckle his knees.

“You got a thing for that Y/N don’t you?” Josh asked while Sam narrowed his eyes at the blonde. Who was he to question if he liked her or not? She was already married for two years now so he had no chance over a man who looked like he was coming out from a Vogue magazine’s frontpage. Plus, he was way younger.

“Just say what you want, Jonathan.” Sam crossed his arms on his chest.

“How about you go to her salon and ask for a piercing?” Josh chuckled while looking down at his own groin.

The raven haired boy instantly shook his head.

“Come on Sam, it's gonna be fun. Don’t be such a pimp. Isn’t this what you want after all? Some weed and pills. You know five hundred dollars isn’t a small amount of money” Josh teased.

“I’m not doing it anyways.” Sam said. “Either if I get the money or not.”

“Are you shy? That she will see how small your dick actually is?” Thomas laughed while Josh kicked him again.

Sam tilted his head backwards. A piercing? Down there? Sure for five hundred it wasn’t really a big deal but he wasn’t even sure Y/N could do something like that.

“Fine, I'll do it.” Sam suddenly said while Josh smirked and patted Thomas on his back while turning around and walking back into their house.

—

Sam walked into your shop, hearing the bell echo through the building as he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself.

“Oh, Hi Sam.” You said as you spotted him across the reception. He was wearing flared jeans with one of those metal rock bands on it that you casually knew the name of but didn’t listen to any of their songs.

“Hi.” He said while walking over to you.

“What brings you in today?” You asked while pulling out your notepad to add a new customer for today. You only had five today and it was already two in the afternoon so it was quite a slow day.

Now this was the part where Sam lost all of his confidence just looking at you all over again.

You had your hair pinned up so it didn’t fall into your sight. You were wearing a blouse with nothing underneath so he saw your nipple piercings poking through the fabric.

He felt his mouth watering up at the sight as you leant against the counter, writing his name in in your diary.

“Well..umm.” He started but then stopped again as you looked up at him. “I..”

You tilted your head smiling slightly as you saw a little red creeping up to his face.

“I’m guessing you want it somewhere private.” You said while he let out a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.

“Nipple piercings?” You guessed while looking up at him.

“No.”

You tried to think of anything that could weird out a twenty one year old boy, then the question suddenly left your mouth.

“A cockring?” You asked while Sam breathed out and nodded his head slowly.

“Okay.” You got up from behind the counter and walked towards the mattress where you did all of your job.

“Lay down.” You said while sitting down on the barstool next to him.

Sam laid down as you said and stared at the ceiling while you got some of the stuff that was needed. You put on some gloves, searching for a needle and the disinfectant with a cotton swab nearby.

“Are you nervous?” You asked to make a brief conversation.

“A little.” He admitted while readjusting his position.

“Don’t worry it will be fine.” You said while turning around. “Though you would need to pull your jeans and underwear down.” You said while waiting for him to do so.

“Oh right.” He murmured while quickly fidgeting with his belt.

Your thoughts suddenly drifted away. You’ve been doing piercings for Sam since he turned seventeen. Of course you thought he looked fine but he was way too young for you. You were already twenty five when you met.

Your husband wouldn’t give a shit if you just went and slept around, because he did the same. Not that you did care, you needed the money and that was it.

Sam was different, you only thought of him as a one night stand and even that was a huge mistake to think of. He probably had many women drooling around him; he didn't need one who was married.

“Okay so.” You started while looking at his pretty face. “You know I would like you to get a little bit aroused before we start this so the needle can easily pierce your skin.” You dared not to look down at his member. Sam paid attention to this as he stared right into your gorgeous eyes, waiting for you to finally touch him even if it meant his head would be swelling for a good two weeks.

“I’ll leave you alone to do this.” You said while getting up from the barstool that you were seated on. Sam wanted to call out for you but he rather closed his mouth and watched as you walked behind the counter again, looking up at the clock before diving your head into one of your notebooks where you rearranged some appointments that were off for today. You were basically just scribbling down whatever came to your mind.

By the time you walked back to where Sam was, you saw exactly how he was currently rubbing himself, trying to get ready. All you saw was that the poor boy tried to do his best but he was still limp. You pulled at your lips as a wicked thought ran up into your head.

Jacking him off wouldn’t be cheating would it be?

You didn’t care though, you walked over to him and sat back on the barstool. When he noticed you he quickly pulled away his hands, staring at you.

“Seems like you don’t have anyone to think about.” You said while he gulped down his spit. Gosh how could you be so hot and confident at the same time?

“Trust me, I do.” He murmured while looking down at your cleavage.

“Okay pretty boy well how about I help you out a little bit?” You suggested while pulling out something like lube from one of your drawers.

“You would?” He asked surprised.

Oh god, she’s going to stroke my dick.

“Well if I need to..” You pressed some of that lube on your fingertips looking down at him.

Sam kept looking at you, praying not to cum in a minute under your hands. You probably had no time for him anyways.

You looked him into the eyes once before taking his tip between your fingertips, rubbing the lube right on the skin.

This was the first time Sam held his moans back, trying to gain composure as you kept flicking the head with your hands. If you kept going like this you would be having to see him cumming all over your hand.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath as you went faster. You even forgot this wasn’t supposed to be a blowjob until the very moment you got thick ropes of white coming down your hands.

A soft gasp left your lips but even then you kept going. Sam twitched underneath your hand, groaning once you sped up again.

“You gonna cum again for me baby?” You purred while now your hand was caressing his entire length.

“Yes..” He gasped while you kept smirking.

Let’s just say Sam Monroe turned out to visit your salon more after that encounter. Plus, he always made sure your husband would see the leftover marks that your setting powder couldn’t cover.

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Double The Fangs, Double The Fun

➳ Summary: Daryl and Scud are regulars at the bar you work at, but they're only really there for you. One night while chatting, you injure yourself, so they help you home to heal up (Vamp!Daryl & Vamp!Scud x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: idfk sometime, somewhere, no apocalypse (this is a crossover fic for smut lets be real)

➳ Word count: 5.5k (3k of it is smut)

➳ C/W: VAMPIRES ‼️‼️, minor wound, blood (duh), biting/vampire feeding, double penetration, hints of Scud's mommy kink

➳ A/N: I wrote doc title for this as “DTFx2” cuz of the lettering, not even realizing the “down-to-fuck” till later, plus it being 2 partners – I cooked on this title. BUT ANYWAY I AM FUELING THE VAMP!DARYL FIRE AND VAMP!SCUD TOO BECAUSE THIS IS A PLAGUE AND I AM ILL AND I WILL SPREAD IT

You stretched your arms up over your head, leaning forward against the counter in front of you. It was another slow weeknight, no customers present, hindered by the fact the bar was tucked away in some deader part of the city. It was pretty boring, but you got paid for kinda just diddleling around a lot of the time. You rhythmically tapped your fingertips against the surface, but straightened up when the door jingled open.

“Fuck, I was about to start praying you two would show up. ‘Ts borin' as shit in here,” You laughed as two familiar faces walked in from the night; Daryl and Scud. They were your regulars, stopping by most any time you were on shift. And you heard from coworkers sometimes they'd show up, see that you weren't there, and just leave.

You never found it creepy though, it wasn't like that. They were always very respectful towards you, kind of chivalrous, but not obnoxiously. They'd always buy a drink and tip heavy, or just straight up give you money – and would scare off the actually creepy drinkers: the one's that'd prey on a woman as if she was frail. You didn't require them, having pepper spray and a gun beneath the counter, but they gave you extra security. And we're good company.

Scud, who you knews real name was Josh – the more ‘loverboy’ one of the two – popped by most nights after work. He was really sweet, having grown a soft spot for him and letting him bend the rules; like allowing him to smoke a joint, or three, inside, so long as he shared them with you. He claimed he was a sort of engineer, which you found a little surprising given you'd never seen him without the skunky smell of weed wafting around his figure, but it's not like it mattered to you.

Daryl, on the other hand, was much more reserved, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't intrigue you. He appeared older, and more of a rarity, seeming to drift in and out of town: which made sense given that scratchy, deep southern accent he carried.

“Ain't gon’ pass up seein’ ya, moonshine,” Daryl grinned as he sauntered up to take a seat, Scud following right behind and taking the one opposite him. ‘Moonshine’ is what he always called you, given you were a bartender, and it was ironic because you never saw either of them till after sundown. “Shift slow?”

“Painfully,” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Ion even know how we get enough profit to keep this place open. Not sure anyone in our staff remembers the last time we saw the owner in person. I swear this is some money laundering scheme.”

“‘Least your gettin’ paid, yeah? My boss don't even got me onna regular schedule,” Scud tisked, reaching into the pocket of his large, layered jacket and pulling out the container he kept his joints in. “Ya wanna J?”: To which you nodded and he passed you one. Daryl's observant gaze watched your every movement, as he typically did.

“Ya get yer nails done, darlin’?” He asked, squinting his pale blue eyes and setting his hand out as you lit the joint.

“Hm?” Your eyes flicked to him, understanding, and you set your palm in his hand so he could see. Pressed to your nail beds were coffin acrylics, painted a rich red, the gloss making them almost bloody. “Jus’ got ‘em done this morning. Figured if ‘m gonna be sittin’ here twiddling my thumbs half the time they might as well look good.”

“Looks perfect on ya.” Your gazes locked together for a moment, hypnotic in a way as his irises seemed to pulse, then suddenly shift down. He loomed closer and ran his thumb over your fingers, appreciating the gleaming texture that reflected in the dim light.

“Real pretty momma's,” Scud added as he took a long drag of his smoke, holding it for a moment before skillfully exhaling in a long plume that dissipated and began to fill the small space with a haze.

“Mm, thank you boys,” You turned a little, offering a bashful smile at their endless complimenting – they showered you with affectionate comments every time they came in. “Either of you want somethin’? It can be on the house, think the workers drink more than customers.”

“‘Ll take'ah whiskey – ‘nd m’payin’ ya anyway, angel,” Daryl replied, fishing for his wallet and passing you bills that more than doubled the price of a shot. Frankly you felt bad sometimes, like you were taking his money, but gave up a long time ago with trying to decline. He insisted.

As you went to grab the iconic bottle of Jack Daniel's off the shelf behind you, your elbow stuck out a bit too far and knocked over a large glass you'd been using for water, sending it to the floor where it shattered. “Ugh, never complain that you're bored at work. Fate'll always make ya clean.”

You quickly poured the auburn grog into a shot and slid it across the wood countertop to Daryl, dropping to your knees to pick up the larger shards.

“Fuck!” You seethed, accidentally slicing open the palm of your hand by sweeping it over the edge of a fragment in the other, your joint nearly falling from where you'd pinched it between your lips. Both men bounded from their stools to look over, simultaneously uttering ‘Ya alrigh's?''s. You half-clutched your fist and rose to be level again, hitching your breath with a small whine as striking pain electrified your nerves.

Blood quickly began to spill from the gash, running down your wrist and upper forearm before dripping to the floor a couple times as Daryl snapped to grab a clean rag from behind the bar so you could hold pressure, moving so fast he registered as just a whoosh. As your eyes were shut in pain, theirs were blown open, locked onto the crimson that tinted your skin. They could see the microscopic way it gushed a bit more from every beat of your heart.

Tendrils of that sweet, mind warping scent curled through the air and around the pair's bodies. God it smelled so damn good – you smelled so good. They didn't wish you harm, but they'd just been agonizingly waiting to someday, by some chance, get to smell the life-giving fluid that pumped through your veins without the blockage your skin created, keeping the complete experience inside of you. And they could only dream of getting to taste it…

You spun back to face them, and swore for a second, the color of both their blue eyes had altered to match the plasma soaking into the grey washcloth in your grip – their faces flat like they hadn't eaten in years and you just baited the idea of a gourmet feast. But once you blinked, they were back to azure, concern etched across eyebrows and frowns. Maybe it was just the shitty brilliance of the bar.

“‘M fine, jus’ being mindless I guess. Scud, how the hell are ya smokin’ and working with wires ‘n soldering shit,” You shook your head, blaming your incident on the brain fog from weed, although it was a poor excuse given it should not have taken effect that fast. Perhaps you were just embarrassingly locked on auto-pilot.

“Ya look like yer bleedin’ bad, princess. Lemme see.” Daryl beckoned you over and took your hand. His body tensed, that dangerous feeling of his canines extending creeping up. It took all he had to not press his mouth to you. He knew better, he had control. You let him remove the rag, examining the cut and finding it to be quite deep, him stating it might have to be closed

“We don't got any medical stuff here ‘sides maybe a few bandaids. I'd be surprised if anybody else came in ‘ere tonight so I'll just close up ‘n deal with it home. Sorry to cut our chat time short guys…” You gave a half frown, taking an unsteady inhale and trying to mask the aching in your extremity. You smothered the joint, enjoyment ruined.

“Don't gotta apologize mama's. Wantcha to be okay,” Scud commented, mirroring your expression. Looking between him and Daryl, you felt there was some synergy connecting them, like they were communicating despite both staring at you.

“Why don't we take ya home, mebbe have me patch tha fer ya, hm?” Daryl suggested, readjusting his leather jacket as he tilted his head slightly.

“Oh, no. I don't wanna bother either of ya with that…”

“‘Ts no bother, sugar. We wanna make sure you're safe. ‘Ts late, dark, ‘nd you're bleedin’. Don't want anythin’ bad happening to ya,” Scud explained, his every word ending on a sort of mewl as he plucked his joint from his mouth to speak clearly.

“Alright – just cause I know you two will follow me to check anyway.” You grabbed your things, Daryl and Scud helping to close up the bar so you didn't further injure yourself, then leaving with you. It was reasonable for them to come with, and this wouldn't be the first time. And this wasn't the safest part of town, so it wouldn't hurt to have them.

❥-》》—————➣

When you returned to your apartment, both of them praised your designing of the interior, having not been inside before. To you it wasn't much of anything special, but again, it was just in their nature to say kind things to you.

You nodded Daryl in the direction of your bathroom so he could grab some ointment and gauze, going to sit on the couch as Scud plopped beside you. You easily could've nursed it yourself, but if there was anything you really knew about Daryl, it was his tendency to always be doing favors – and not letting you decline.

“Y'know… I know a way tah make that heal faster than any dressings could,” Scud broke the silence, dragging his gaze over your frame, and landing on your hand where you still held the soiled rag. He couldn't fucking take it anymore. He didn't have the control that Daryl did.

“What do you mean?” You now faced him, confused at the way his breathing seemed to grow a bit heavier, chest puffing further out despite his lazy posture. But he straightened some, scooting closer to you and reaching for your hand.

“Just trust me on this…” He was salivating, bottom lip practically trembling with anticipation. He was so close, access to your fresh blood right there. God how he ached for it every time he saw your beautiful face, just so damn entranced by you. He tried not to completely lose his mind as he neared your palm.

“Um… yer gonna get it infected doin’ that.”

“Won't.” And his mouth hovered right above it.

“Seriously, Scud, what are you doing?” Now you were concerned, tempted to call Daryl back. Was this some weird sex thing? His way of trying to seduce you? Taking ‘kiss my boo-boo to make it feel better’ a bit too far. But you sensed this… energy, radiating off of him, drawing out your naïve trait of curiosity. Something felt different about him, although you guess it always did – but only now could you really perceive it, having him so close. “What are you? ”

Scud's eyes flicked up to yours, blue flipped across the scale of hues to match the color you'd caught a glimpse of at the bar – the color of your blood, and those flawless new nails. “Whadda ya think I am, sweetheart?”

As his lips peeled back with a grin, you could see the lengthy, pin-sharp fangs that descended from the roof of his mouth, glistening with his famine. Your mouth fell open, pupils dilating as realization worked through your brain. Oh shit. Oh, shit..? You didn't speak, but didn't know what to say anyway.

He chuckled at your reaction. “Jus’ relax, mama's.” Finally. His tongue darted out, dragging a long lick over the front of your wound, causing you to wince and jerk a little. It didn't particularly hurt, but was so odd at the start. Scud held back a moan, but couldn't help his remarks: “Mmm, you taste so good… bettah than I ever imagined…”

You swallowed thickly, watching him work saliva over your tender flesh, and lapping away any remnants of the blood that ran down your arm. He stared intensely into your eyes as he drew a long, excessively slow lick up your limb and back to the wound. You felt it begin to radiate, an unfamiliar warmth centralizing over the cut but spreading out into your entire palm.

He brushed his lips against your fingers with a featherlite kiss, and reluctantly pulled away, letting you watch branches of skin connect together from both sides, color quickly shifting back to your normal tone, and your hand completely unscathed. You flexed your tendons, feeling it for yourself. It was completely healed, a two-week time lapsing into under a minute.

“Why'd ya show ‘er.” Daryl's voice was stern, silently standing behind the couch and startling you as you whipped around. You should've figured – it wouldn't take that long to find simple first aid in your bathroom.

“Known ‘er for long enough, D. Why let'er suffer with some gash if we can just heal it for her?” Scud replied and shrugged innocently. But his wording was key; ‘we’.

“You're both vampires,” You nodded dryly as Daryl grumbled something under his breath and came around the couch to sit on the other side of you. Now the ‘moonshine’ was really ironic. “Okay… I assume if you were gonna drain me ya woulda done it by now.”

“Don't tempt me, baby,” Scud smirked, and Daryl shot him a harsh glare. “What? Sure she appreciates the healin’ at least!”

“Yeah, I do… but it's weirdly intimate, no? Just, wetly runnin’ yer tongue all over someone, gathering saliva on their skin, tastin’ the irony remnants of their blood-”

“Quit talkin’ like that,” Daryl hissed, your sight passing back to him, watching his adam's-apple bob and his jaw tense. His eyes reddened as well, and it dawned on you how teasing your choice of dialogue must've been for them.

“Or keep goin’. Like hearin’ your gorgeous voice say such pretty words,” Scud wet his lips, volume just above a whisper. You felt trapped between two sides of a spectrum, both equally covet… and you were way more into it than you would ever want to admit. Your jaw laxed with a weary breath, mind wandering further ahead than you liked it to. “But you're right, can be real intimate.” His voice dropped lower as he neared you, keeping sights intertwined.

“You're torturing me momma's… pleas’... would give anythin’ to feel ya,” He almost whimpered, puppy dog eyes peering up at you. “He would too, he's jus’ a lil’ more shy.”

It'd be the fattest lie of your life to say you didn't find him attractive, both of them. Closing the door behind you some nights after they'd walked you home, tempted to just bring them inside. How many times you muttered dirty words as your legs tangled in your bedsheets and you touched yourself, imagining how they'd sound in Scud's whiny hitches, or Daryl's gravelly grunts…

You reached up, taking Scud's chin in the light hold of your acrylics and bringing his mouth to yours. He directly melted, turning to puddy from that alone and cravingly dabbing your lips with his tongue. When you pulled back, he tried to follow, pining for more. But you wanted to be fair, and switched to the other man.

Daryl looked like he didn't know what to do, that effort of displaying confidence broken the second the gate he'd been waiting outside of for so long actually opened. But a quick ‘C'mere’, and the curling of your pointer finger brought him to you expeditiously, rough lips chafing over your moisted ones. He shoved away his groan, not quite ready for that yet.

“This ain't gonna stop at kissin’, right?” You checked on an exhale, both their eyes boring into you from either plane, the patterns of their breathing reworking themselves. Dropping it here would be teasing you now.

“S’ain't gon’ stop less ya want it to, moonshine,” He rasped, irises captivating and luring you back to him, clawed hand coming to his cheek – that made the groan slip. He inhaled sharply, ardently guiding his tongue into your mouth, which definitely made Scud jealous.

The engineer brought his hands to your waist, toying with the seams of your shirt as Daryl harshly tugged you closer to him, gaining momentum, growing hungrier. He explored the entire cavity of your mouth, feeling the heat of your gums, the smoothness of your teeth in comparison to his canines, and drew a moan from your throat, hints of a smile crinkling.

“Yer not good at hidin’ whatcha want, honeysuckle,” The southerner purred, trailing down to your jawline as Scud's lips pressed to the nape of your neck. You weren’t sure if he could tell by your body language, or was able to read your mind or something; all the near whorish thoughts running through your psyche.

“Then you should know how long I've thought about this.”

Daryl immediately hooked his strong arms under your thighs, shoving Scud back to stand up off the couch, your legs instinctively latching around his torso as he started to leave a hickey on your neck and find his way to your bedroom.

Scud awkwardly stood behind for a second, shyly glancing to the floor, feeling literally and figuratively pushed aside by the other's dominance. “C'mon Scuddy,” You mouthed, and he looked like he came in pants right there – hurdling to track after you.

Daryl roughly threw you onto the edge of your bed, simultaneously ripping your shirt up over your head. He reached down for the button of your jeans, quickly popping it out and tearing them off, leaving you in just your lacey, red bra and panties.

“Jeez, you ‘nd fuckin’ red, woman.” He bordered on a growl, sliding off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. You sat upright on the rim the mattress, aiding Scud in dropping his many layers, but he teetered like he just wanted to fuck himself senseless with all it still on.

Both them now shirtless, you raked your nails down their chest, taking extra notice to follow the lightning-like scars carved into Scud's abdomen to your left. You let out a breathy curse at their defined v-lines and mouthwateringly sexy happy trails, discarding Daryl's belt, and gently cupping his pulsing erection through his jeans – the same through Scud's cargos.

One twitched, then the other, and you chuckled. “You two really want me that bad, huh?” You questioned, beaming up through your lashes with a flirty smirk: but that mischievous temping simmered seeing the pure lust on their features. They looked like they were gonna eat you alive, and honestly… you wouldn't mind it.

You undid their pants to drop them down, and with some sort of unspoken permission translating between the three of you, they pounced forward, resistance snapping like twigs. Scud hauled your body up the bed and instantaneously found your lips, already gasping into your mouth. His hands each found one of your breasts, fondling and pawing impatiently through your bra.

Daryl grabbed your hips, tugging you back down a little and drawing a wet lick from the hem of your panties up your navel, holding you to him as your spine arched. He kissed and sucked at the delicate skin on your pelvis and inner thighs, leaving behind litters of those gentle bruises on the surface, spotting across the curves of your body. His fangs grazed you as he worked, a persistent reminder of what a feral vampire could just take from you – but he was a humble man, and prefered to give.

You directed Scud to strip your bra, given he'd basically lost all ability to function the second your clothes were off, and even worse once he was on you. Now with your chest fully out, he was gone. He greedily sucked one nipple into his mouth, kneading the other like a cat, while Daryl curled a finger around the hem of your panties, deliberately running from side to side before he suddenly ripped them away – literally ripped. “Promise ‘ll buy ya new ones, babydoll.”

Whatever deeply guttural noise that erupted from you when Daryl's tongue made contact with your cunt was everything but holy. Your hips bucked up into his face so rapidly it almost caught him off guard, his palms splayed out on your thighs and his mouth latched onto your clit. He sucked in rapid pumps, before trawling down then back up and spreading your folds. He lapped up every bit of your pooled wetness, taking a deep inhale and the hidden claws in his fingertips nearing shooting out as his toes curled.

“Fuck! Yer pussy smell's'so fuckin’ good.” His words came out as near snarls, reverberating against your core. Should the view of him not have been obscured by Scud, you're sure you would've came at the sight of him so deeply intoxicated by just the scent of you. “‘Nd tastes so goddamn lovely.”

“‘Ts not fair, man, ah wanna taste ‘er-”

“Nah. Ya got ‘er hand, pussy's mine.” Now he was snarling, possessive crimson eyes stabbing into the other man as he'd turned to look back at him, burying himself deeper into your cunt and earning another wild moan. Scud frowned a little, but you brought your hands to his hips and readjusted him to be sitting on your chest, legs on either side of your body.

“Don't worry, baby.” And you rolled down his boxers so his dick was free: fully hard, tip swollen up and flushed with color, absolutely weeping for you, and it bobbed with a twitch. You wrapped your hand around the base, giving a few pressurized strokes as he bowed forward over your head and straight up whimpered in your ear, aching and pulsing and starved of touch and attention.

“Oh-.. God, momma's… t’so good…” He wove his fingers through your hair to tug lightly at the roots and anchor himself. But the second you put your tongue on him, he jerked forward and shoved into your mouth, cumming abruptly. He couldn't help it, you were; “Jus’ so warm…”

Still you swallowed it down, swiveling the tip of your tongue along the underside of his head, prolonging his high. You weren't surprised; with how frenzied he was, acting like he'd been edged for far too long – which you supposed he had, based on how he talked earlier – you pegged him for the kind to cum fast. He probably wanted you to actually peg him too.

Daryl tipped a domino by chuckling at the early orgasm, the sound waves making you moan around Scud's cock, which in return made him slide a bit deeper again. Daryl started to hum, and removed one hand from your thigh to slip two girthy fingers into you, curling them up and pressing into that sensitive spot in your walls. He focused his mouth on your clit, drawing it in with suction while he rapidly wagged his tongue, soon pumping his fingers in and out of you, and your moans picked up.

The shallow edge of Scud's claws inched further out and held your skull, careful to not scrape into your skin, but exigent nonetheless. His breathing descended into ragged heaving against the side of your head as you worked his cock like you knew every little thing that got him going.

“Getch'yer dick outta her mouth so Ah can hear ‘er cum,” Daryl barked, breaking contact from you for just a moment. Scud groaned, wanting so badly for you to deepthroat him, but he shifted over to the side, knowing Daryl would forcibly do it anyway. Now he moved impossibly faster, fingers stretching you open and filling the bedroom with wet noises from how he had you dripping.

Getting to hear you clearly now sent him into overdrive, grunting against your clit while Scud just laboriously returned to toying with your boobs. “C'mon girl, jus’ cum. Cum fer me. Wanna see yer gorgeous face.”

“Jesus, Daryl-” Your sentence split, and you cried out, trembling legs coming together and forcing him flush against you. You rode his face, a hand flying down to tug at his shaggy locks and assisting you in rolling your hips. He clutched you bruisingly hard, nearing ripping into you.

When your limbs relaxed again, he lavished long licks over your cunt, swirling the tangy, sticky nectar of your release over his entire mouth. “Mos’ perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“Pleas’ mommas, can I fuck ya?” Scud pleaded, cupping your face to catch his distress. Sharing was hard when one party was so much more controlling. Poor thing needed you.

But seeing Daryl yank down and discard his boxers, hard cock visibly throbbing and tip shaded red, he needed you too. And you could tell a blowjob just wouldn't settle it for either of them. “Fuck, just-.. both of you fuck me.”

“Can ya handle two, sweetheart?” Daryl exhorted, swiping a strayed bit of hair from your forehead and deftly tucking it back, slightly softened eyes checking for sincerity in your expression. With your nod, they acclimated to desire once again.

He flipped onto his back, and manhandled your body overtop of him, your back flattened on his chest, and Scud hurriedly positioning above. Daryl kept your legs spread apart with his, reaching around and palming at your breast while going down to slick himself between your soaked folds, slapping himself against you a couple times. “Ya tell us if s'too much, alrigh’?”

“Yea, yeah- please, just fuck me already,” You wailed as he angled you down and slipped deep into you, Scud giving you a second to adjust before coating spit over his shaft, and gently guiding into you as well.

Your back arched as Daryl held you firm, whining in delectable pain as they strained you further open than you ever had been, your acrylics digging into his waist beneath you. Scud layered himself onto you, sucking another hickey into your chest then rocking his hips a couple of times.

When you handled it well, Daryl took it as a cue to join him, plodding more in his thrusts to still give you the opportunity to bail if this wasn't to your liking. Your eyelids fluttered closed, head lulling back to rest on Daryl's shoulder as your heavy breaths fell in line with the pace. When Scud pushed in, Daryl would pull out, and vice versa: always keeping you full while maintaining the motion that granted so much ecstasy to you three. Every one of their filthy noises sounded incomprehensibly better than you'd ever pictured.

Scud mewled against you, head buried into your breasts and giving quick pecks or licks any time he wasn't being uncontrollably vocal. Daryl did the same, groaning into your shoulder and hair.

“Takin’ us so good, arentcha darlin’? So wet, pussy so tight,” Daryl hushed into your ear, hooking up faster and faster following each of his thrusts like the speed was on a multiplier.

You twisted fingers in the back of Scud's head, triggering a loud whine when you tugged on the roots of this hair and that metal choker he always wore. He started to waver, weakly humping you like his brain was fried and just focusing on staying as deep inside you as he could. “Mmm… mommy, I… ‘m so hungry. Please…” The hinges of his jaw started extending on their own, humid exhales dampening an area by your neck. Tasting hints of your blood earlier spawned a black hole that decimated the sinkhole he'd previously had caving in over time. In the near year he'd known you, that urge to just feed from your tender flesh was all he ever thought about. And now, warm walls of your cunt wrapped around him, urging him to another orgasm… He couldn't wait much longer, he was starving.

Daryl planted his feet to make up for Scud's faltering rhythm, the strengthful build of his hips and thighs making it easy to lift you. He was trying so hard to focus on just fucking you, but as the other vampire's imploring got the best of him, he started to follow suit. “Ya know yer'a damn tease, righ’ moonshine? Lookin’ so sexy all tha time, tha seductive scent ah yers… Fuck, I kno’ ya taste like heaven…” He craned his neck up, applying pressure to your carotid artery with his tongue, feeling everything he wanted pump through you at a rapid rate.

You took in a shaky breath, vivacity emanating from the both of them and encircling you. Their dicks throbbed inside of you, the drifter pistoning while the engineer hunched, but that just wasn't enough, and it made the craving so much more pressing. Their pairs of fangs rested on the edges of your skin, tracing over it, each on one side.

“Shit… just do it-.. Jus’ fuckin’ do,” You panted, and it happened so fast you barely even realized it. Scud's bite was eager, being more frantic and on your left: Daryl's more longing, savoring the feeling of piercing into your silky flesh on the right. They drew long siphons into their throats, sultry crimson flooding their systems as their eyes blazed a mutual color.

A strangled moan ripped from your being, your consciousness floating in a haze. Daryl fucked you faster, empowered by your smooth blood, grunting savagely as his razor-edged talons dug into your breasts, Scud's on your waist: but they were so careful to not rip you up.

“Mmmnngh… oh, gods momma, m’gonna cum…” Scud lost any last sense of his composure, curving his spine and slicking out of you to cum over your pelvis. He whimpered like an injured dog, anchoring himself with the teeth lodged in you, grinding against you a few times to ride out the bliss as he messied your body with lengthy ropes of white. Waves of body-wracking pleasure made him writhe around on your chest, lost in some other realm.

“Fuck… cum fer me again, dollface. Know yer good fer me,” Daryl mumbled against you, driving into your cunt with every newfound bit of liveliness he garnered from feeding on you. Your brain stopped working at this point – those red acrylic nails scratching at Daryl's thigh with your left, and Scud's back with your right.

You felt lightheaded, loss of ichor incapacitating you even as they'd ceased thirsting, just keeping fangs planted in your muscles. The crest of euphoria floated your soul to nirvana, Daryl's tip brushing past one specific golden point in your walls and shoving you off the cliff of your climax, tightening his hold on you as you bowed and bucked, vision stripped from your senses.

Your pussy spasmed and massaged around the southerner's cock, and with a final few abusing thrusts, he withdrew and spilled his own load over your folds, resistant moans rumbling from his vocal cords. All three of your chests heaved intensely, fighting to steal any oxygen from the lust-filled atmosphere of your bedroom.

Daryl's hands drifted to your midsection to push up and roll Scud off of you to the left, knowing he was too much of a fucked out mess to do it himself. He gently laid you between the two of them, smoothing a caring hand over your chest and pressing a kiss to your upper arm. “Ya feelin’ okay, moonshine? Didn't take too much, righ’?”

“Yea, ‘m good.., jus’ need a minute,” You wheezed, eyes shut and soma trying to recuperate. Daryl peeled himself from the bed, going to wet a rag, and fetch some water and food. Returning, he compassionately cleaned away the cum smeared across your curves, supporting you as he helped you drink and all – then gathered extra layers of healing saliva over your puncture wounds just to make sure they'd seal over.

He soothed you by tracing patterns with his calloused palm, the three of you resting for a long while and wrapping thoughts around what just happened.

Scud snaked his arm around yours and cuddled right up against your side, keeping lips pressed against you with his whiny hums. “Wanna feel more'ah ya mommas…” To only say he was needy was an understatement, he was full on reliant – vampiric endurance adapting the role of an exponent for such.

“Let ‘er rest.”

You brought your nails to Scud's scalp, gently scratching his head and he practically began to purr. Even if Daryl shoved him off, you appreciated how benevolent he was to you, and could tell he felt less-than right now, lacking your focus. “That spit of yours work on swellin’ too?”

He nodded with a mumbly ‘Mhm…’

“Then how bout'cha lick my pussy till it feels better, ‘nd we'll keep goin’ till botha ya are ran dry, hm?” You suggested, planting a kiss on the top of his head and sensing the energy shift.

And they were both on you all over again in an instant.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part one max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( next )

One of the things Max Verstappen despises about being Max Verstappen is being Max Verstappen. Three time world champion, youngest race winner, mad max, f1 dominator, all the fame and media and people following him around. It's very hard to get a moment of peace or be treated normally. When people hear his name they either put on big smiles or ugly frowns. He hates the special treatment.

He misses when he could have a conversation without people recording or judging him. Without people whispering about him, or fake being his friend for whatever fame. When people would just spend time with him for the sake of spending time, or having a conversation for the sake of friendly socialization and conversation. Luckily though for the Dutch, in this day and age, Max could just enter a spare email in Discord and make a second lowkey account.

The pfp was a random photo of Max, a meme. Lowkey enough, Max decided after staring at the profile long enough before opening DiscoBoard. After scrolling and searching, he was dawned upon with a relatively small server with only 280 people online, surrounding sim racing. After he followed instructions on the welcome page like verifying he's not a robot and picking roles, he got his first ping. 

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max met you in August of 2022. The way you talked and messed around with him got him constantly checking his phone for notifications over the next months. The way you befriended him and were relaxed around him once the two of you got to know each other, it kept him sane. And although Max didn't really reveal a lot about himself except that his work required a lot of traveling and effort, you trusted him enough to share about your own life up in France, ranting about your weird encounters as an employee at Cisco.

The blonde’s favorite part about getting home was plopping in his gaming chair and switching his Discord accounts. Pulling his headphones on and navigating through the server, he joined the active voice chat. It was as if he was switching lives, turning off Max Verstappen to be an irrelevant 26 year old.

“A millioooon.” you sang like you always did, a nickname you’d given him since amilian sounded like a million. 

“Laaaaa.” Max sang back with a chuckle before greeting the other acquaintances present on the call. 

“How was your weekend?” You hummed. 

“Same as always. Maybe a bit shittier this time.” He sighed, seeing you were on Gran Turismo from your shared screen. 

“I’d love to beat up someone for you.” You always offer when he’s down. The blonde would laugh and shake his head even though you can’t see. You never cease to bring him a smile with your tone and jokes and hearty aura, despite being kilometers up north. "We're waiting for Josh to take a few rounds around spa, you wanna join?" 

"Oh, yes please." friendly racing with no consequences, points or championship? just friends messing around and enjoying themselves? Yes please.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You see the new verstappen photos that just dropped, Mr. Max Verstappen nerd?" Max looked up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at your dm chat where the two of you decided to move the call once everyone else put down the steering wheel for the night.

"This one is from Bahrain I think . . . you know, I'm starting to take a liking to him." Max rolled his eyes playfully at your words. "To be honest, I was kind of disappointed this weekend." Max rubbed his eyes, looking up at your profile picture. 

"Why what happened?" He asked even though he probably knew all too well the events of the Australian grand prix.

"Max DNFed on the third or fifth lap." You sighed. 

"Oh yeah?" Max hummed, pursing his lips, not wanting to recall the memories. "What's so bad about that? I thought you were a die hard Charles fan?" he asked. 

"Excuse you, I'm a die hard Fernando fan." You joked in a sassy tone which pulled a chuckle from him.

"What is it about Max DNFing that is bothering you then?" Max himself asked, putting his phone down to concentrate on your voice. 

"I just don't—" you sighed deeply. On your end of the call you rolled back in your chair, getting up and flopping on your bed with your phone in hand.

When you did answer his question, all Max heard was mumbles because your voice was muffled by your pillow. "Can't hear you, La. Aren't you happy about the Carlando podium? You were so happy about it last year." 

"I am happy, I am. But Max . . . well Max . . . i don't know." you grumbled frustrated. "He's such a good driver, and deserves a lot— he works really really hard."

Max never thought he'd hear you talking about him like that. He'd usually hear other people on the server dissing him and cursing him. And although you were always mostly neutral with the drivers, the way you spoke about Max tonight melted his heart. It also felt very wrong.

While you turned and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling of your room, venting your feelings about a driver who you thought didn't know you existed, said driver folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms listening to you vent about how much you were amazed and proud even though you don't know him personally or him not being your favorite driver.

Max glanced up at his monitor as you sighed to gather your thoughts. "Sometimes when i look at him, he reminds me of myself. I never really got to go past karting, but for some reason I see a little bit of y/n in him." 

"—Y/n?" He sat up hearing the name. 

"I—" You face palmed upon the realization.

 "Is that your name?" Max asked. You nodded briefly with a sigh but he couldn't see.

"Unfortunately." You sighed. "Weird name, I know—" 

"I like it." He reassured. "It's not like Amilian is any better." he tried to lighten the mood, working slightly. 

"A million." you giggled making him chuckle back. 

"A million, " he repeated quieter, a small smile on his face as he leaned his chin back down on his arm.

Such a foolish thing to do, taking a liking to a woman you've never met.

Voice notes . . . ( my brain is like a zoo rn, starting projects and not being able to track anything while working on everything at the same time ) Word count - ( 1, 165 ) credits for proofreading -> @classiclitfreak (check out their blog!!)

[gretavanlace]

Softer, Softest

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: sexual content, language, slight angst, penetration, cockwarming, etc

Okay, the quickest of blurbs (under 1k) because I have neglected my josh lane lovelies so, so terribly. I received a request for bad day/comfort josh but now I can’t find the ask. Did I answer it and forget? Perhaps. Who knows? Anyway, this is just a fast fix, but I promise a full length josh fic is right around the corner ❤️

Josh is lounging across the living room couch, battered paperback in hand, when you push open the front door with a clattering of keys and the thunk of your bag hitting the floor.

”Stay there.” You implore, when he moves to stand in greeting. Just the sight of his face, so beautiful and bright-white love, has tears threatening in your eyes.

He notices right away, and his own eyes turn wide with concern, “What is it, dove? What happened?”

”Nothing.” You shake your head adamantly as you kick off your heels, leaving them where they don’t belong in a way you normally never would, “Nothing I want to talk about, anyway. I just had a shitty day, and I missed you.”

”C’mere, baby…” his voice is soothing, lulling you like a melody as he pats his thigh, “Come sit.”

Hiking your pencil skirt up enough to straddle his lap, you settle in against him with a sigh of content. He is warm, and he is home.

His palm strokes up and down your back, wrinkling the silk of your shirt under its weight, “I’m sorry you had a bad day. How can I help? Are you hungry? I could make you something. Or draw a bath with those salts you like, read to you?”

You shake your head against his shoulder with a heavy sigh, “No. This. I want this.”

”Alright,” you can hear the soft smile in his tone, he is pleased to be what you want in your moment of struggle, no matter how small.

Fingers crawling upward, he squeezes at the clip tucked into your hair and releases it, then scratches lightly at your scalp to give you a shiver.

”That feels nice.” You murmur, nuzzling into his neck until he is all you can smell.

”Here,” he whispers, gently nudging your shoulders, “sit up a little.”

You do as he says and study his lovely face as he concentrates on working the buttons of your shirt before pushing it off of you. Next pop the clasps of your bra, and the bliss of being free of it sends another delicate shiver undulating up your spine.

“There we go, dove.” He pets at your hair again and then pulls you back in, blunt nails lazily tracing your back until you feel like glittering liquid in his embrace.

”Thank you, Josh.” Your lips brush against his soft skin as you speak, “I’m sorry.”

”What are you sorry for?” He asks, matching your quiet as his hands continue to coddle you.

”For being a baby.”

”You are a baby,” he reminds you, words filled right up with love. “You’re my baby.”

Suddenly, your heart feels too big for your chest. How did you ever get so lucky? Do you even deserve him? Certainly not…no one does. “I love you. I love you so much. I just want to disappear inside you and live there forever.”

He laughs at this, that tiny giggle that melts you right down to your toes every time it peeks out, “Isn’t it usually the other way around? Me disappearing inside you?”

You giggle to match him, “Classy, Joshua.”

”I am but a caveman,” his fingers swirl circles into the dimples of your lower back, “a disgusting specimen of the lesser species.”

Another laugh flits off your tongue. You know he is trying to cheer you up, and as always…it’s working. “You are no such thing. You’re so good to me.”

A comfortable silence creeps in, but your mind is working overtime. His comment, me disappearing inside you, playing on an endless loop until you can’t stand it any longer.

”Hey,” your voice is meek, timid and unsure, as you toy nervously with the mala beads looped around his neck.

”Hmm?” He pecks a tender kiss into your hair.

”Am I really your baby?” Why do you feel so shy about this? Normally you’re adventurous and even more outgoing than he is, which is really saying something. But right now you feel…inexplicably bashful.

“Of course you’re my baby,” his lips are pressing kisses against your head again as he audibly breathes in the scent of your hair.

“Can you…” you twist those cool, smooth beads around in your fist idly, “I want…”

”You want what, dove?” He soothes your nerves with that loving lilt laced through his tone, “Tell me. I’ll make it happen. I’ll give it to you.”

”I want to be closer to you,” your words breathe into his ear just before your teeth sink gently into his silken lobe.

He knows. He somehow always knows.

“Lift up, baby bird.” His voice, rasping with subdued lust and stark devotion, needles at your heart until your head swims.

You rise up on your knees and watch on as he tugs your skirt up even higher and then pulls at the waistband of his pants.

You lovingly tease him about these khakis and their elastic waist. You call them his ‘dad pants’ just to watch him become uncharacteristically crass and grab his crotch with a ‘I’ve got your daddy right here, dove’. But right now? Right now you’re more than grateful for the lack of buttons and zippers for him to contend with.

With your gaze fixed on his gorgeous cock, he sweeps your panties to the side and eases you down onto it. Hissing as the heat of your cunt envelopes him.

”Is that better, baby?” He asks shakily, once you’re seated in his lap, filled up tight and snug with him.

“Much.”

You relax fully in his arms and it tugs at his heart-strings, making him even more completely fucking gone for you. He would set this whole world on fire if you felt even a little bit chilly.

A haunting, calming song begins to hum out of him, the vibration of it purring from his chest and straight into your heart.

”You sound so pretty,” you praise, cheek pressed just beneath his throat until the weight of the world seems to lift away and disappear.

”And you feel so pretty, dove.” He’s lightly scratching your back again, coddling you into a haze. “Softer than satin absolutely everywhere. Inside and out. Soft here,” the back of his hand brushes down your arm, “softer here,” his thumb kisses your lips, “softest here.” His hips lift ever so lightly.

Without waiting for a response, he begins humming to you again…guiding you gingerly into sleep while he rests, safely nestled inside you.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama @alwaysonthemend

[w2soneshots]

Roommates -W2S

words: 1.3k+

warnings: smut, light angst.

summary: you and Harry spend lockdown together in your own little flat that’s located next to the sidemen house. Eventually Harry catches feelings and the unexpected (yet very overdue) happens.

notes: heyy🫶🏼. My lockdown fic got so much love so I’m hoping you’ll all enjoy this one just as much! This request is so iconic. Don’t forget to reblog!!😚🤍

I've known the boys since I was young. I went to school with Tobi and Josh then when youtube came around we started playing games together. Soon they had created one of the biggest groups on youtube and I was their most requested guest. I have a great relationship with all of them and immediately hit it off with Freya and Talia.

Last month the uk went into a full lockdown. Josh, Freya, Simon, Talia, JJ and Vik were already living in the same house but Tobi, Ethan, Harry and myself packed our things and also moved in. Because we didn't want to be trapped in the middle of London alone. But since there aren't enough bedrooms for all of us, we flipped a coin to decide who would stay in the small granny flat at the end of the garden. Me and Harry ended up winning and I was actually really happy that I would only be sharing my space with one other person instead of nine.

At the beginning it was going great. Everyone was a little fed up with the fact we couldn't leave the house but we were lucky enough that we have a huge garden that makes you feel a little less claustrophobic. Me and Harry are getting along really well. We have separate bedrooms but share a bathroom, which can be slightly annoying at times.

One night I sat on the small couch in our living room/kitchen. Harry clicked open the door after coming back from filming with the boys. "Hey. How'd it go?" I asked, glancing up from my phone. "Uh- good." He replied plainly. My brows furrowed "are you okay?" I stood from the sofa. "Huh? Yea fine." He quickly entered his room then closed the door. I was a little confused but just assumed he was tired and didn't feel like talking.

The next night the same thing happened. He practically avoided me for an entire week. Until I'd had enough. I hesitated as I went to knock on his bedroom door. I took a deep breath then knocked my hand against the painted wood. "Harry?!" I heard a frustrated huff then the door cracked open. "Yes?" "Uhh, can we talk please?" I asked quietly. He looked down at the floor then left his room. We walked towards the kitchen and each sat down on one of the breakfast stools.

"Listen. I don't know if I did something to upset you but we're living together you can't just keep avoiding me. If you have something to say then just spit it out!" My voice raised as I spoke the last sentence. His jaw ticked. He looked me in the eyes, then his gaze flickered down to my lips. My breath hitched, my palms began to sweat and my heart beat so fast I thought it might pop out of my chest. The next few seconds were the slowest yet fastest of my life. He lent in and kissed me. Harry fucking Lewis kissed me. The boy I've known for so many years. The boy I've had a crush on since I was sixteen. But all this time I assumed he didn't feel the same so I suppressed the feelings as best I could.

I moved forward to place my hands on his cheeks, bringing him closer to me. As we broke away to breathe we rested our foreheads on each other's. We kept eye contact as he desperately placed his hands at my waist and lifted me onto the kitchen counter. He stood between my legs as he kissed me, hard. "Harry..." I moaned as he began kissing down my neck. He pulled my hoodie over my head revealing the small white cotton bralet I had on underneath. His eyes flickered from my chest back up to my eyes. "Are you sure you wanna do this?" He asked, with his hands by his sides. "Please Harry, please." I begged. He took that as a yes so quickly fumbled to remove his shirt.

He pulled me off the counter then carried me towards his bedroom, my legs wrapped around his torso. I kissed his shoulder gently as he walked. He groaned as we approached the bedroom. "I need you Harry." I whimpered as he lay me down on his soft sheets. The room was dark so I could only barely make out his figure stood before me. I could hear shuffling then my pants along with my underwear were being pulled down in one fail swoop. I gasped as he moved over me so his dick was just inches away from my soaking wet cunt. He gently wiped the hair from my face then attached his lips back to mine. "You ready?" He asked between wet kisses. "So ready."

After that night we continued to have sex regularly. We weren't sure what we were even labelled as yet so we decided to keep it a secret from everyone else. Thank god we were at the end of the garden or we would have a problem. I'm not exactly sure how the other couples in the house were managing to have a sex life. But me and Harry were so loud. We did it in every possible room, kitchen counter, sofa, shower, his bedroom, my bedroom. I think we were just so bored that the only thing to do was have sex.

Almost two months after that night he asked me to be his girlfriend. It was actually really romantic. He cooked me dinner in our kitchen, bearing in mind it wasn't the nicest pasta I've had but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that he was officially mine and I was his.

Once the lockdown was fully lifted life seemed to return to (somewhat) normal. Tobi, Ethan, Harry and I moved out and moved back into our own apartments. We hadn't actually talked about what we were going to do once the lockdown ended. I obviously knew I still wanted to be with him but the realisation suddenly hit me that I was actually dating one of my best friends. One night Harry asked if we could tell everyone and I wasn't sure what to say. We decided that we would wait a little longer until I felt one hundred percent ready.

A month went by and we still hadn't told anyone. I lay in bed next to Harry, the sun shone through the blinds and I was completely naked, from last night's events. I slowly opened my eyes to see Harry looking at me. "Hi." I whispered sleepily. "Do you like me?" He asked. I wasn't expecting that. I pushed myself up so I was leaning on my forearm. "What? Of course I like you." I lent in to kiss him but he gently pushed me back. "Well why don't you want anyone to know about us?" His face was serious. I sighed then placed my hand on his cheek. "I just- well- I've known you since we were teenagers and I- I don't want to mess this up. I don't wanna lose you." I finally admitted. His face softened then he lent in to kiss me. "I love you y/n." He whispered. My heart warmed. "I love you too." "I've wanted to say that for a while but I had to make sure you felt the same." He kissed me again.

The next day Harry brought me along to a sidemen shoot. "So, me and Harry have been- um- daiting for a while." I announced. They didn't seem to be very shocked. "Yea we figured that out when I went to ask if you wanted something from Nando's, since you weren't answering your phones, and I heard some... strange noises." Ethan explained with a chuckle. My face turned bright red. "Oh my god." I buried my face into Harry's shoulder.

[spermeboy]

pairings: josh hutcherson x male reader

request: Hello! Please could I request a story about Josh hutcherson x bottom male reader? Maybe where they are in the process of filming a movie, and both of them hide in a place to release some tension from a heated scene they had to do? Thanks a lot <3

warning: SMUT ! , quiet fucking, swearing.

MDNI + FDNI !

You had just finished filming a spicy scene with your co-star/secret boyfriend, Josh Hutcherson. Once the scene had wrapped before the director could you any notes, Josh had pulled you away and you were both hiding in between two sets.

Your bodies pressed up against each other, your bulges growing as they rub together. Josh's hand slides down under your vanity patch and he gently begins jerking you off while his other hand covers your mouth.

Your muffled moans could be quietly heard between the two sets. While Josh was jerking you off, the director could be overheard. "Where is Y/N and Josh?" He asks, beginning to call out out your name.

You rest your forehead against the fake set wall as Josh's hand goes back and forth. You try to bite your tongue and not scream out, Josh whispers in your ear, "I bet I'm making you feel so good, baby." he nibbles at your ear lobe, continuing the jerking pace.

Josh hand brings you inches from release until he pulls his hands away, leaving your cock twitching, you groan. Josh begins unbuckling his belt, pulling down his jeans to reveal his large member.

It's been ages since you've felt him stretch you out, he spits down on the tip of his cock, jerking it to spread the spit evenly around his cock. He lines himself up and slowly pushes himself into your tightening hole.

"AH-" You shout out before Josh's fingers push into your mouth, keeping you quiet only your mumbles and moans can be heard, and even that won't be heard too well.

You begin to suck on his fingers to ease the moans, Josh's cock fully enters you stretching you out completely. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and places both hands over your mouth to keep you quiet but also to help him beat up your hole.

Josh doesn't hold back. The sound of your ass slapping against him echoes throughout set. "Mhmm!" You moan out, your moans completely bring muffled. Josh continues to pull out right at the tip and then completely thrust himself into you fully.

The director continues looking around, "Can anyone else hear that?"

The slapping sounds increase as Josh speeds up, his tip rubbing against your sweet spot. Your eyes roll back, and you moan against Josh's hand. Josh whispers in your ear, "You're so tight, baby boy".

You groan against his hand, and you start jerking yourself off as Josh's shaft slides back and forth inside you. Josh whispers "cum for me, baby", you shoot your load almost immediately at his command.

Your hole tightens around his cock, causing him to shoot his load inside of you. You breathe heavily against his hand as Josh leans down and kisses your back, gently pulling out of you.

He watches the cum drip out and run down your leg. You wipe it off with your finger, sucking on it, You turn over to face Josh.

You both continue to make out before the director shouts, "JOSH! Y/N! YOUR NEXT SCENE!" You both giggle before making yourselves decent, going to film the next scene.