#sammy kiszka imagines

[anthemofgvf]

Teacher’s Pet: Sam Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

description: when college becomes more interesting from your history with your music professor, you decide to take him up on a private piano lesson to rekindle what once was.

word count: 6.6k+

trope: student reader x professor sam (college au!)

taglist for future fics

warnings after cut…

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warnings: large amount of plot, angst, smut (18+ minors dni!), voyeurism, soft dom! sam, fluff, teacher x adult reader, inappropriate relations, swearing, begging, fingering, oral (fem! and male receiving), handjob, overstimulation, praise kink, unprotected sex, minimal aftercare

a/n: this may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s okay! would also like to reiterate that reader IS a legal adult. i figured that would be clear considering this is a college au but i just wanted to state it once before the story itself does. all actions are consensual, and i do not condone un-consensual acts. with that being said, enjoy;)

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Starting college at Michigan State University at the age of twenty-one, you walked onto campus with a sense of anticipation and determination that set yourself apart from your younger peers. Your journey to this point had been conventional, marked by years of playing piano at home purely for joy, and finding an intense passion for music itself. Now, as a music theory major, you were ready to immerse yourself in the academic study of music, eager to delve into the intricacies of composition, harmony, and the structures that underpin the art form you love. Your path to college might have been delayed, but your passion for music had only grown stronger with time, making your arrival at the university both a new beginning and a cumulation of years of dedication.

But you were gifted a surprise on your first day in your "Music Theory 101" class when you sat near the front - only a few rows back on the far left, and your professor walked in. The cool fall air of Michigan allowed for him to wear a navy blue long-sleeve and a multicolored-purple scarf, with grey plaid dress pants. He clearly was taller than most, but the boots that he paired with his outfit granted him a few extra inches.

You started to analyze the features of his face, seeing something so familiar in him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. His long, brunette hair that held a light wave with a well-kept mustache and goatee. Something about his eyes were the most recognizable to you with the way they scanned the room slowly, then focusing in on papers on his podium. And as soon as he began to speak and introduce himself to you and your peers, the memories came flooding back into your brain, and you had to hold yourself back from gasping. But you couldn't contain your eyes from widening.

"Hello everyone," he began, "welcome to 'Music Theory 101.'" He said with a smile. "I'm Professor Kiszka, and I'll be teaching this course. I've been teaching music theory for about three years now."

You knew who he was. He was Mr. Kiszka, or Sam, as back then you were able to call him that because he wasn't the hugest fan of being called 'Mr. Kiszka'. He was your student teacher your senior year of high school in your band class. He would help your teacher as if he were a teacher's aide, yet also helped teach the class and was a mentee to your teacher. You couldn't even believe your chances of having him as an actual teacher, let alone even seeing his face again. And God, how he has changed from the guy you once knew. But he'd always be 'Sam' to you, whether you'd call him by his first name or not. You preferred not to take your chances anyways.

You and he had created a small friendship, or better described as a mutualistic relationship, but it went nowhere beyond because being friends would cross the boundaries that the school board had put into place. But it was more than likely for the better, because you had a massive crush on him that accumulated over time with the semester. You were keen to his wit, his attention to detail - his talent in music. Not to mention he had a great sense of humor and was outgoing that paired perfectly with his great looks. You remembered being saddened that you were not going to see him again after your last class of the semester, and while although he gave you a hug and a smile, he had said to you,

"You'll see me again, y/n, I'm sure of it," with a wink.

And somehow, he had predicted the future.

After he gave the class a short introduction, which you surely had missed from reminiscing about the past, he had begun to read down the list of students for attendance. Your heart began to bang against your ribcage with anticipation, with wonderance of if he would even remember you. After all, you were just another student he saw in the school day.

"Y/n L/n?" He had called out, searching for you amongst the crowd.

You shot your eyes up, looking at him as you lightly raised your hand and said, "Here."

He smiled at you, the same smile he always wore. His eyes lightly squinted, and his face lit up with a knowing expression.

"You went to Frankenmuth High School, right?" He pointed his pen out to you with his teeth still on display.

"Yeah, yeah I did." You nodded.

You felt everyone's eyes on you - all 40 something students that filled the lecture hall. He remembered you, and you had forgotten how nervous you would get when his eyes lingered upon you for too long. Surely your face was flushed pink for the whole class to examine, but you were praying the lights were dim enough to hide your complexion.

"It's nice to see you again, y/n." He nodded towards you, closing his mouth to soften his smile and focus his attention back onto the list and calling out other names.

The entire class all you could do was watch his facial expressions, the way he walked and used his hands in conversation and lecture. The way his hair flew with his head whenever he changed directions, the way his voice articulated words. And, surely watching him give the class a demonstration on the piano was going to be the death of you. Time had made him more attractive, and his knowledge of you was somehow a worser fate than going unknown.

He put his whole body into his demonstration, leaning into the keys and throwing his head back every so often. His shoulders would raise in a rigid motion, then relaxing back down whilst his fingers danced along the white keys. You began to press your thighs tightly together and place your fist over your mouth as you watched him intently. You were unsure of how you were going to survive this class for a semester.

But after that first day, he had called you over to his podium. Although the conversation was light, asking you how you've been, wondering what you were going to college for exactly, you couldn't help but feel unprepared to talk to him. He always had a way with words, and anything that came out of his mouth was pure poetry. You just felt like you were blabbing nonsense to him. But he cared what you had to say. He laughed at your jokes, nodded along to show you he was listening. He had not changed one bit after all these years, other than time aging him only enough to present himself as more of a mature adult, but his striking personality stayed intact.

As the semester went on, and you stopping by Sam's desk every so often after class, assignments were assigned. One big project that was presented was to perform a cover on the piano that showcased your level of talent on the keys - 30 measures to be exact. A different assignment was given to those who were incapable of playing the piano, which was to compose a piece instead on an instrument of their choosing, but you took the route of playing on the instrument you enjoyed the most.

With this assignment, he had allowed students to make appointments with him during his office hours for free lessons and guidance on their piece. And as soon as he had announced this, you had booked an appointment.

And that's where you were headed right now: A one-on-one meeting with Professor Kiszka. To say you were nervous was an understatement. His attention was all yours, and there was no avoiding his gaze by sinking into your chair. The only thing that you had repeated in your head was that he was no stranger, and you knew how to hold a conversation with him. Act normal, you said to yourself, act normal.

You pushed open one of the large doors of the classroom that groaned and creaked as it allowed your entrance. Sam had his back to you from across the lecture hall, hunched over as he played a song that was unrecognizable to you on the piano. Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful.

The doors slammed shut behind you as you walked in, which caught Sam's attention. He whipped his head over his shoulder as his fingers relaxed from the keys, and he lifted his wrist up to examine his watch.

"Guess it is that time, huh?" He said out loud, although he was mainly speaking to himself. "Come on in, y/n."

"Forgot I was coming in, Professor Kiszka?" You said with a smirk.

"I'm always forgetting the time as it passes," he chuckled lightly, "surely you'll forgive me."

You walked over to him as he rose from the bench with a light smile, extending his arm towards the piano to motion for you to sit. He wore an ironed white button down, and worn-out jeans that have seen better days. Casual attire: a bit astray from what he normally wears.

You stopped in front of him. "I guess just this once I will." You said to him, then taking your seat on the bench and keeping your posture straightened.

"Alright, y/n," he shook his head with a smile, "what's your song of choice then? Can't pick anything you've played for me before."

You cocked your head to the side as you gave him a pondering look. "There's no way you remember anything I played three years ago."

He pressed his lips together and thought for a moment, then looking down to you with a smile.

"Maybe I do, or maybe I don't. Just seems like you're trying to stall on playing your piece for me." He said to you. "There's nothing to be nervous about, y/n."

You shook your head with a light sigh. "I'll have to test your memory another time then."

He nodded at you. "So, what piece of music did you choose?"

"I chose 'Rhapsody in Blue,' sir." You spoke to him. "I remember you performing it for the class after finals were over, and I've been in love with the piece ever since."

He seemed almost shocked that he had made such an impact on you, one that was still intact after all these years. He gave you an earnest, genuine smile as he placed his hand on his heart.

"It means a lot to me that I played an influential role in your musical journey. Did you learn it after I performed the piece?" He asked.

You nodded with a giggle. "Embarrassingly yes, yes I did." You refrained from eye contact as you felt your face becoming hot.

He raised a brow. "So, this is a piece you're familiar with?" You looked back to him with a singular nod. "Then what is your reasoning for spending time with me during my office hours, y/n? I never knew of you to not be confident in yourself."

You stuck your tongue into your cheek. "Just wanted to make sure that I was playing the piece up to par, and I so happen to enjoy our conversations. Figured we'd be able to catch up a bit during this meeting."

"Is that so, y/n?" He smirked at you. His tongue ran across his bottom lip as he looked down at you. It was almost as if there were words that lingered upon his tongue, yet he was unable to muster the courage to let them roll off smoothly. He had opened his mouth for a moment, then shut it with a grin. "Well, then how about we see how well you can perform this piece, huh? If there's enough time after, I don't see anything wrong with catching up a bit more." His grin was near seductive, although he was talking about a topic pure as white. Something about the way his eyes captivated yours that had your body telling you to either look away flustered, or to hold onto his eyes to match his intimidating gaze.

But rather than look at him any longer, you chose to take in a deep breath in preparation to perform for him. You straightened yourself up once more and saw him leave your sight from the corner of your eye.

"Just a bit too tense, y/n." He said softly to you, placing his hands onto your shoulders gently. "Relax for me."

As if that sentence alone didn't have you feeling even more tense, you closed your eyes and found it within yourself to relax, and to forget that it was Sam's doing for making your nerves skyrocket.

You began the piece, fluttering your eyes open and playing it as you learned it. Some of your mannerisms matched the way Sam played the piece - at least back then, just because you admired how beautiful he looked whilst performing. You were certain that if he hadn't become a teacher, he'd be on a stage performing in front of thousands.

You were lost in the music, lost in your motions and the way your fingers traveled alongst the keys in perfect harmony. So lost that you hadn't realized Sam's hands had left your shoulders, moving to stand near the front of the piano, watching you perform. All you could do was focus on playing as perfectly as you could for him, because if you were to look up and see his admiring stare, you would have forgotten the rest of the piece.

And so, you finished, watching your fingers dance along the last few keys and resting your hands onto your thighs, keeping your eyes down only for a moment before cautiously allowing yourself to look up and see his chin resting into his palm, wearing a large grin that he never seemed to wipe from his face.

"That was," he began to stride slowly towards you, "near perfection."

You followed his movements with your eyes. "Near?"

He sat next to you on the bench, holding onto your eyes. "You lost yourself a bit with the tempo, is all. I'm not shameful to a bit of artistic expression, but that would be for another project. But it's nothing that can't be fixed quickly."

"So, then it's a good thing that I made this appointment, hm? Without your expertise I wouldn't have known to slow down a bit." You said to him.

He huffed a laugh with an amused expression. "What's your game here? Sarcasm or flattery?"

You took a glance at his parted lips, locking eyes with him again. "Your guidance, Professor Kiszka."

He shook his head at you with a knowing look yet dismissing your counter remark and sliding closer to you.

"Well, for one, you should raise your arms a bit higher above the keys." He slid his hands under your forearms and raised them up slightly, being ever-so gentle with his touch. With how close he peered over your shoulder, you were certain if you were to turn to him, your nose would brush against his.

However, you wouldn't have been bothered by it if it were to occur. The opportunity presented itself when he had willingly brought himself even closer to you. Whether you would dare to do it was not on your mind right now, as you were tuning into the feeling of his coarse hands holding your forearms and making them weightless.

You could feel his exhaled breath just barely hit the side of your neck, and your body almost reacted with a shudder. Rather, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and suddenly you had become more aware of how many breaths you were taking in.

"And to help keep tempo," Sam slowly slid his hands off your arms, placing his hand lightly onto your thigh, "I'll tap on beat." He said as he began tapping onto your jeans lightly.

You dared to turn towards him and flick your eyes at his parted lips, locking onto his stare and feeling the inability to look away. You were certain the face you were displaying was one of desperation, of want.

But to him, it didn't appear that way. "Is this...okay?" He had said with a hint of worry. Maybe he didn't want to read into your facial expressions too much.

"Yes, yes it's okay." You gave him a reassured smile, along with a small nod, and tore yourself away from his gaze.

You began to play once more, trying to keep your mind on your fingers hitting the keys at the right pace rather than the fact that Sam's hand was on your thigh. The act was supposed to be innocent, a teacher merely helping his student perfect their piece, but to you, it was hard to feel anything pure towards your professor.

With the way his chin nearly rested onto your shoulder, to his steady breaths that matched yours as you played, to the low humming you could hear in your ear as your fingers danced along the piano. How did he expect you to focus when he was closer to you than ever before? When all you were thinking about was how easily it would be to kiss him, to give into him.

"What's on your mind, y/n?" He whispered to you.

You had continued playing, trying to keep up with the tempo he had set on your thigh.

"What do you mean?" You said without missing a beat.

"I can tell you're not focused. You're playing the piece properly, but your mind is somewhere else." He removed his hand from your thigh, which caused you to stop playing.

You turned to him. "I'm just a bit distracted, that's all. I'm sorry, Professor." You pressed your lips together, flicking your eyes down to avoid his gaze. A low sigh escaped his mouth as he watched gravity tilt your head down.

But then you felt his finger hook under your chin, lifting it up to meet his eyes. Every detail of his face was on display, and you couldn't focus your eyes on a single piece of his complexion - it was all something you wanted to remember so intricately.

"Am I distracting you?" He took a glance at your lips only for a discreet moment, then focusing in on your eyes and searched within them for an answer that you had yet to put out into the air.

"Maybe," you began, "what if I said that you were?"

Your bold statement had nearly taken him aback, with his hand removing itself from under your chin, and a light chuckle with the shake of his head as he composed himself. His hand ran to the back of his neck, then finding its resting place on the top of his thigh.

He leaned back slightly, the playful glint in his eyes dimming to something more contemplative. "Then I'd have to ask why," he murmured, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. "Why do you find me distracting?" The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken words and unsaid possibilities, leaving you teetering on the edge of where his mind was at.

You took a hard swallow, tugging at the inside of your bottom lip and praying that you weren't about to make an embarrassing mistake.

Your heart raced as you decided to take the plunge. "Because" you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've never been able to keep myself composed long enough around you. And, now that we're alone, it's become increasingly hard to even think straight."

His eyes widened slightly, the seriousness of your confession hanging between you two like a fragile thread.

He moved closer, his warm breath just barely grazing the tip of your nose. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing," he said softly, his lips hovering just inches from yours, leaving you breathless and wondering if he was about to close the distance between you. "But you know what the rules are, right, y/n?"

"Do you plan on getting caught?" Your question hung in the air, heavy with implication. You felt a shiver run down your spine as the reality of the situation hit you. How the proximity had almost fizzled out in between you, the way Sam held your eyes in the most captivating way, taking only a millisecond to peak at your lips before returning to your gaze.

"Didn't know of you to be such a risk taker, y/n." He said to you with a steady voice.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your chest. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sam," you replied, your voice just as steady, matching his intensity.

His gaze flickered with curiosity and something deeper, something that made your pulse quicken more than it already was. "Sam?" He smirked. "As much as I like you calling me 'Professor,' I've missed hearing you say my name."

"I'll say it as many times as you want me to," you said softly, flicking your eyes to his lips before returning back to his gaze.

"Then start now," he murmured, his tone a blend of challenge and invitation. He inched closer, his breath mingling with yours, the space between you almost nonexistent now.

"Sam," you barely voiced.

"Again." He said as his lips were just barely brushing against yours. His hand gently traced the line of your jaw.

"Sam." You repeated for him.

He closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was a risk, practically whimpering into his mouth the second you got a taste whatever flavored ChapStick he wore.

His hand cupped your cheek, while his other hand rested on your thigh. You willingly fell into the touch, placing one of your hands onto his white button down, and the other beginning to tangle itself in his hair. You were merely breathless with the deepening of the kiss quickly becoming apparent, and now you were just desperate to run your hands under his shirt - to feel his warm skin under your touch.

Without unlocking your lips from his, you began to unbutton his shirt, and while he noticed, he allowed you to continue, pulling the shirt off of his shoulders and throwing it wherever it may land onto the ground.

His fingers crept under the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up to let every inch of your body feel that singular motion, and as soon as the tips of his fingers hit your bra, you were removing your mouth from his and finishing the job.

"You're eager." He teased at you, tugging at your bottom lip as he encapsulated your lips onto his again.

Instead of giving him a pitiful response into his mouth, you undid your bra with little struggle and threw it off of you whilst scooting yourself closer to your professor. His cold hands almost stung against your bare sides, yet soothed your heated skin as he ran them up slowly, finding your breasts and toying with them tenderly. A soft whine escaped out of your mouth, and in return, his mouth made its journey of running from your jawline, then to your neck, and to your collarbone.

Before you had even realized it, your hand was sliding down his chest, finding his bulge and cupping it. His groan vibrated against your neck, sucking lightly and digging his teeth into your neck as you threw your head back.

You had found yourself already breathless, squeezing your thighs together as your mind wondered to the inevitable. You lightly squeezed on Sam's bulge, hoping that he would mutter another sound for you to listen to.

But he removed himself from you with a heaving chest, unbuckling his belt as he stood up in front of you. While his eyes were first locked in at undoing the material holding up his pants, he then looked to you, pulling and shimmying off his jeans that were caught at his ankles. His briefs followed suit with his motion, and his cock sprung out in front of you.

Without hesitation, you had wrapped your hand around his length, keeping his eyes locked on yours as you pursed your lips and allowed spit to dribble from your mouth onto his cock. His mouth parted slightly, watching as your hand ran up and down him at an agonizingly slow pace. You gave him a small smile, one that had him caressing the side of your face and running his hand to the back of your head.

As he tousled with your hair, you pressed your lips softly onto his tip, then sliding him into your mouth. You watched as he threw his head back, groaning in a deep sigh and lightly tugging at the hair on the back of your head. You kept your hand pumping slowly at his base, while your head bobbed up and down his length.

The sensation of your soft, skilled mouth moving with rhythmic precision drew a deep moan from his lips. Your tongue danced expertly, exploring every inch, while your eyes remained fixed on his as he let his head fall back down towards you, drinking in every reaction. He was entranced with your motions and the way you effortlessly brought him such bliss.

His breathing had become unsteady, tugging at his bottom lip as he tugged your hair back which in return removed your mouth from him. You looked up to him eagerly, and in silence, he slowly fell to his knees at your mercy.

He looked beautiful bowed before you, unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans in a fluid motion, then dipping his thumbs under the denim, and wrapping his hands onto your sides that were hugged by the material. He slid them down slowly, and while doing so, you had lifted yourself up just enough to aid him in fully removing your jeans and panties. He had tossed them to the side, and once he looked back to you, your legs were pressed together.

You had found yourself shy with the vulnerability shared with him. Fully exposed to Sam, permanently imprinting this image of yourself in his brain that he would not dare to allow slip from his mind. His hands came to your knees as he noticed the sudden pink hue in your face.

"Open your legs for me, pretty girl." He said in a hoarse voice whilst he massaged your kneecaps. His demand was calm, and not one that meant to rush you. And you could feel the soothing, comforting energy that he was emulating in this moment that had you realizing he found you breathtaking - every single part of you.

So, you gave in willingly, looking at him with lustful eyes as you spread your legs apart slowly. His eyes were locked in onto your heat. Your bare form was being traced by his eyes, marveling at the curvatures of your body that seemed almost ethereal to him. He could not bring himself to speak a word, but rather sigh in reverence as his head inched closer and closer in between your thighs. It was if he was at your mercy, willing to give up anything and everything just to please you.

His lips pressed softly against the inners of your left thigh, and you had found yourself gasping lightly with a choked breath at the tender impact. Your hand relaxed at the back of his head as you massaged it, just as he did for you before, and a small grin curled onto his lips as he pressed more, soft kisses against your thighs, even sucking softly onto the skin. You were on the verge of begging for his mouth on you but resisted the urgency to see how Sam wanted to navigate himself around your body.

He raised his middle and ring finger to you, looking up at you submissively before uttering a soft, "open," to you. You quickly obeyed, parting your lips and letting him insert his fingers into your mouth, and resting them onto your tongue. You sucked slowly onto his fingers, swirling your tongue around his digits and allowing him to withdrawal them from your mouth.

And he kept his eyes locked on yours, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly inserted his two fingers inside of you. You gasped lightly, jolting forward with your back arched and your hands smashed onto the keys of the piano behind you as Sam curled his fingers. He broke from your eyes to see your hands clenched onto the keys and allowed a small smirk to curl onto his lips. He let that be his only reaction and continued to move his fingers.

You threw your head back as his other hand snaked up your body and lightly massaged your left breast. Your eyes were barely shut, mouth agape and allowing any sound bubbling in your throat out quietly. You had tugged onto the back of his head harshly as soon as you felt his tongue onto your clit, with your thighs squeezing tightly around his head and muffling your moans. As much as he wanted to push your legs apart to listen to every melodic sound that came from your mouth, he wasn't going take away from your bliss.

His tongue circled around your clit at a steady pace, with his fingers quickening to draw your moans out even more. You were tugging at your bottom lip as you rolled your hips into Sam's motions. You couldn't help but admire the view below you: your professor's eyes shut softly, seeming perfectly content in between your legs as he licked and sucked at your clit. He was already in tune with your body, knowing what made you feel good, and exactly what to do to send you over the edge.

You felt the knowing pressure in the pit of your stomach; a knot desperate to be unraveled by your orgasm. Your moans became strained - whiney.

"Sam, fuck, just like that." You slurred. Your hand had yet again found itself bracing against the keys of the piano, pressing a multitude of keys that didn't make the most beautiful melody, but the irony of that was it didn't matter what it sounded like. It mattered how it felt, which it perfectly conveyed.

You were arching your back away from the piano as your thighs trembled around Sam's head, calling out his name once more as your head fell forward and your breathing quickened. You alerted him of your orgasm, and all he did was continue his motions, calming them and seizing their existence after dragging out your high.

"You okay?" He looked up to you, removing his fingers slowly from your entrance and encapsulating them into his mouth to lick them clean.

You shuddered, and quickly swallowed and nodded at him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." You laughed lightly.

He rose from his knees, standing before you still fully erect. You had forgotten how perfectly carved his abdomen was, how desirable him in his vulnerably, bare entirety was.

His fingers pressed from below your chin, lifting your eyes up to his own and holding a soft smile yet again.

"Are you okay to keep going?"

You smiled at him and his concern that just barely washed over his face.

"Yes, Sam." You nodded, reaching out for his face and him almost immediately complying.

He smashed his lips onto yours as you pulled yourself up from the bench. Your bodies melted into each other in a feverish rush, hands frantically exploring once more to remember the feeling of each other's skin. His hand had found the small of your back, guiding you to rotate to where you were now standing where he originally was.

His mouth kept on yours, slowly sitting down onto the bench and losing your lips with the action. You stood before him, watching his eyes fall to your thighs, where his hands began running slowly up and stopping at your waist.

He met your eyes again with his tongue darting out in between his lips. His touch was both tentative and possessive, as if memorizing every curve and contour. You could feel the heat radiating from his palms and igniting that fire once more.

He pulled you closer, his grip firm yet gentle, urging you to straddle his lap. As you settled into him, he had a hand on the base of his cock, dragging it alongst your sensitive folds that had you whimpering from the slight overstimulation. He looked to you once more to look for any sign of discomfort, but you placed your hands onto his shoulders, and lined yourself up with him.

You had sunk down onto him slowly and could not help breathing a relieved moan. He, on the other hand, released a guttural groan as you fully rested with him completely inside of you. His hands gripped onto your hips, breathing already unsteady, and beginning to guide you at a slow pace.

"Shit, y/n," he breathed, "you feel so perfect." He watched you grind your hips into him and continued. "You are so perfect."

You ran a hand from his shoulder and to his neck, finding his cheek and giving him a lustful smile. You were warm around his bare cock, tight and sucking him in perfectly. Your mind was dizzy with the thought of this all being a reality unfolding at this very moment; dizzy with the way he was making you feel.

You began to bounce at a steady pace, feeling his hips buck into you lightly to help alleviate some of the work on your end. He could tell you were tired. You were lazily chasing your next orgasm, although desperate for yours again and to help him find his, but your energy almost begged to deny it.

His left hand found a home onto the piano keys for leverage, lightly wincing at the sudden noise that filled the nearly silent room. You looked at him and smiled lightly, holding back your laughter at the noise.

"Doesn't sound too good." You teased.

He shook his head at you, furrowing his brows as he battled full euphoria taking over his being and disallowing a response from him. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to focus, the dissonant chord fading into the background of his awareness.

With a slow, deliberate movement, his thumb pressed into your hipbone, anchoring himself in the reality of your presence. The look in his eyes was a mix of passion and frustration, struggling to form words but failing as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed him.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent promise that you understood. His fingers flexed on the piano keys, creating a soft, accidental melody that echoed the unspoken rhythm of your connection. Even when he's not trying, he can make something beautiful out of a small mistake.

Yours and his's movements became quicker, both of you voicing your satisfaction with breathy moans, mixing swears and each other's names into the lustful air. Your hand ran to the back of his head, tousling with the damp hair and resting your forehead onto his. You both were a sweaty mess, which had you and him sticking to one another. It would be a battle to unravel yourself from him after this, but you warranted that.

He had a harsher grip onto your hip. His fingers dug into the plush skin while his thrusts became unsteady. He removed his hand from the piano and let you carry the pace on as his thumb circled onto your clit. You called out to him in a hushed moan, feeling your second orgasm creeping up quickly. Even though you warned him, he did not care. He wanted that.

"Cum for me again, y/n." He quickened his finger, pressing down onto your lower stomach. "Cum. For. Me." He repeated with gritted teeth.

Your eyebrows pulled together, locking your eyes with his as you reached your high almost immediately and pulled your head back from him with a hand pressed against his chest. You trembled against him and rode yourself through your high, with a high-pitched gasp shooting out from your mouth while you squeezed around him. And although your head was still fuzzy, you kept going for him.

He muttered your name in a warning, lifting you up from his lap just enough for him to pull out from you. You had sat yourself onto the middle portion of his thighs, far enough for him to finish himself off by painting his stomach and hand with his cum. You couldn't tear your eyes from him as he heaved and looked at the mess he had made, lightly chuckling to himself. You found his laughter and matched it, tucking your bottom lip behind your front teeth and smiling.

He reached for your lips once more, pressing a gentle, meaningful kiss onto your mouth as he cupped your cheek with his dry hand. And once your lips parted from his, you found the pattern of his breathing and controlled your own to emulate his.

He lifted his wrist to look at the time, and you in turn gave him a puzzled look whilst throwing your arms around his neck.

"Have another appointment today?" You said to him with slight disappointment. You had almost forgotten where you two were.

"I unfortunately do." He replied. "And I'd suggest we should clean ourselves up now and make it look like we did not just have sex on this fucking piano." He chuckled.

You quickly obeyed, standing up quickly and running over to his podium where he had a tissue box. You knew you were to return home and shower, but for now, this would suffice. Besides, you didn't know how much time you had before a student would walk in, so both of you focused on yourselves.

You had found your phone and quickly switched to the camera to make sure your hair wasn't too much of a mess, along with your makeup. Thankfully, it was a quick fix for anything out of place, and you took care of it while Sam finished buttoning up his shirt.

After you had placed your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you walked over to him.

"Do you do this with all of your students?" You questioned him with sarcasm.

He shook his head with a breathy chuckle. "Only the ones I like." He shrugged, catching onto your teasing.

You giggled at his response, choosing to leave the teasing behind in fear of the unknown amount of time you had left with him. "So, I'll see you tomorrow for class then?" You rocked on your heels.

"Well, I'd hope so," he smiled at you, sliding his hand onto your waist and pulling you closer. "Will I start seeing you outside of class, too?"

You felt a rush of warmth from his touch, a sense of comfort that had now been familiarized to you. "I think we can arrange that." You said in a playful manner as you placed the palms of your hands onto his chest.

His thumb traced small circles on your waist, his expression softening with a mixture of desire and affection. "Good," he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours once more. "I look forward to it."

After you had parted from his lips again, you reluctantly pulled away from him and made your way to the doors of the lecture hall. You were hoping that whatever student was to come next wasn't outside already, because by the burning sensation that filled your cheeks, you could not hide that something had occurred beyond the lesson with him. With your professor.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

taglist:

@hollyco @ageofhearingloss @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @gold-mines-melting @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @joopsworld @gvfgal @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @haileygvf @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @indigofallingsky @sinarainbows @laneygvf @josh-iamyour-mama @starshine-wagner @lyndz2names @jjwasneverhere @mulberrimouse @starcatcher-jake @lallisonl @jordie-gvf @mindastreamofcolours @peaceloveunitygvf

[builtbybrokenbells]

Partners In Crime

The cure for heartbreak is truth, but what do you do when the truth is the source of heartbreak itself?

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, unrequited love, mentions of cheating/cheating, lots of pining and yearning, unreturned feelings, self doubt, anxiety, anger, depression, marriage/weddings, breakups, crying, mentions of blood/bleeding, being left at the altar, self sabotage, self doubt, eloping, kissing, confessing feelings, drinking, swearing, childhood friends to lovers, sorry if i miss any!

some Jake angst bc i guess I’m not suffering enough right now. much love, hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Jake’s POV

A rose, so strikingly beautiful in its own simplicity. The petals, blood red with intent to steal attention, surrounded by pillowy emerald leaves to frame the picture of her. The smell, sickeningly sweet. The perfume could choke you, suffocate you with its fragrant aura all whilst convincing you that you were okay, and that it would never hurt you. The silk of the petal against the skin of your fingertips, soft and inviting, forever making you wonder how anything could ever be so easy to love.

And then the hand slips, tumbling recklessly past the flowing leaves and grazing over the violent stem. The thorns, the only protection for the beauty above, sticking into your skin as the aching pain begins to spread. Crimson, not just from the leaves, now flows effortlessly from the wound produced by the one thing you’d fallen hopelessly for, reminding you that sometimes, not even love is enough to spare you from the hurt.

The skin, barely even broken, makes you wonder if you were even harmed at all, or if it was a figment of your own imagination, showing you the plausible outcome as it begged you to take a step back. As you brought your hand to the high quality wool of your suit jacket, swiping away the memory of your injury, you knew it could not be false. It hurt too badly to be anything but true, for even dreams did not sting quite the same. As you raise your fist to the oak door, one fancier than you’ve ever seen before, the ache suddenly spreads far beyond the tip of your finger, settling deep in your chest and wrapping around your spine as you wait for an answer.

Not even a shuffle is heard from the other side, and you wonder if maybe you should walk away, or if knocking was a good idea at all. You wonder if she’s in there, weepy-eyed with a smile while she stares at her reflection in the mirror and a dozen hands worked to zip up the back of her dress. You wonder what the dress looked like, if it was intricately beaded or plastered with lace, or maybe it was a silk slip that screamed elegance that matched her entirety.

You need not wonder, because wondering was never something you had to do on her behalf. You knew her, and you knew her better than the back of your hand. More than that, you were certain you had studied her far beyond what you’d ever known about the rosewood fret of your SG. You knew she was in the room, dressed perfectly in white lace extending down to her wrists, cascading delicately to the floor behind her as she walked. Her hair was twisted up, the loose pieces by her face hanging down to accentuate the warmth of her cheeks, just like always. Her hands, perfectly manicured and searching too busy themselves as she tried her best not to break a nail or chip away at the polish. She was tapping one foot against the ground, her heart beating so hard in her chest you could nearly hear it from the hallway, but despite her anxiety, she held a soft, warm smile on her lips.

She was not an open book, but you’d dedicated a lifetime to knowing her. Months and miles could separate you, and you would find her again the exact same as how you left her. Sometimes, things never changed, and thankfully, she was one thing that never wavered.

You knew her so well, and seeing her after so much time away, the same picture as you’d seared in your mind every night alone in a hotel room, was always comforting. It wrapped you in a blanket of warmth, filling your heart with so much love it might burst from your chest. She was everything, and she reminded you of that fact every time she graced you with her presence.

Unfortunately, her company often came with more than just that.

When the door opened, revealing the picture you’d already created in your mind, you were reminded of that fact worse than ever before.

“Jake?” She breathed, her lips glossy and her eyes sparkling to match. Her hair was twisted up, just as you’d imagined it would be, dazzling with a clip covered in gems. The soft locks of hair hung around her face, the same ones she could never seem to get a handle on. This time, it was purposeful, and you knew she’d given in to the lack of control rather than fighting it. “I can’t believe you made it.” The smile on her face was striking, but as breathtaking as it was, it hurt worse than it helped your aching heart.

“You didn’t really think I would miss your big day?” You forced the words out, wondering why you couldn’t just appreciate the moment rather than dread the future. You extended your arm, holding out the flower, you realized it had nothing on her. As beautiful as you once believed it was, seeing her stand in front of you dressed in the wedding gown and dolled to perfection, you knew nothing could ever hold a candle to her. Not even the blood red petals and the emerald leaves.

No, especially not something as simple as that.

“Here,” you said, watching her gaze down upon the single flower held in your hand. “Figured there would be lots of white today, so maybe some color would break up the monotony a bit.” Another smile graced her lips, so big the apples of her cheeks would start to ache if she held it for any amount of time.

You wanted to see her smile, so why did it hurt so much?

More than that, why did it hurt so bad to love something that was so easy to fall in love with?

“You always know what to say, Jacob.” She whispered, grabbing it from your grasp, her eyes never straying from the ruby red petals. “I never should have doubted you.” It looked a million times better in her hands than it ever did it yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the thorns never once thought to prick her skin, fearful of harming something so beautiful.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You chuckled, finding the ache ease the more she spoke. The soft sound hit your ears, quickly making itself the most important thing in the entire room. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” And it was the truth, even if you knew you shouldn’t be saying it. “Not that you don’t look beautiful every day.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, finally looking up to catch your eye. She held the stare for a moment, and just like every other time, you could have sworn there was something there, something deeper than the surface level shit the two of you were spewing to each other.

If there was, you were still a coward, and when you thought about addressing it, your palms broke into a sweat and your stomach twisted in a knot.

Maybe if you had found the courage all those years ago, you’d never be standing before her now, watching her get married. Maybe, you would be the one waiting to marry her.

“Do you want to come in?” She asked, her eyes flickering past you, settling on the wallpapered drywall in the hallway. She blinked a few times, seemingly trying to bring herself back to reality. You wanted to ask, but you were afraid of the answer.

“F’course. Think we’ve got some catching up to do.” Catching up before she could never be bothered to think of you again, is what you should have said. After all, it was the truth, no matter how badly it hurt.

“Definitely.” She let out a giggle, throwing the door open and stepping back. As soon as you let yourself move forward, you felt like you were punched in the stomach. In the air lingered a perfume you’d spent a lifetime trying to forget. It was the sweetest smell that you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. You’d spent nights with your head buried under the covers, your lips ghosting the skin of other women to try and drown the memory of her, but it never worked. When you woke in the morning, you always seemed to yearn for the same thing. Everything paled in comparison, soured just by the knowledge that something so special existed. “Everything got pushed back a little bit, but I’m trying not to panic. The day is still good, we’re here, we’re happy, even if it is a little bit later than expected.”

Happy.

Bold choice of words, sweetheart.

“What happened?” You asked, your eyes floating around the room, taking in everything it had to offer. Bridal suites were always so feminine, divine in their own special way. Billowy curtains, a stunning aerial view of the yard, porcelain white bathrooms and neat towels folded at every corner. It was perfect, everything in place, but it wasn’t her. Although she was perfect and pristine at first glance, she loved mess. For her entire life, she’d strewn clothes across the floor, leaving water bottles behind wherever she went. She loved nature, the feeling of earth on her skin and sand between her toes. Many times you’d walk in on her, paint covering her clothes and splattered on her face because she tried to repaint her bedroom all on her lonesome.

She was perfect in her chaos, and it was one of the very things that made you love her in the first place.

You wondered if her soon to be husband loved her for the very same things. You didn’t know him, nor did you know much about him. When you talked, it was never about him, but rather the life you two once dreamed of building together. Your job had taken you away from home, away from her, and as much as you missed her, you were grateful you never had to watch her fall in love with someone else. At the same time, it made you uneasy, unsure if you could watch your best friend fall into the arms of a man you knew nothing about. You dreaded the idea that he did not love her for those quirks, and that in your time away, his subjective love had made her change.

You looked to the bed, where she would have slept the night before, noticing the sheets pulled from the corners and the pillows nearly falling off the sides. The bag that once protected her dress was flipped inside out, thrown carelessly across the foot of the bed and long forgotten. A sadness washed over you, knowing that he did love her the same way. Then, you felt guilty for being sad at all; you should be jumping for joy that such a wonderful woman was being loved the way she deserved.

Even so, you could not shake the feeling of knowing you could love her better than anyone ever had, if she’d just give you the chance.

Then again, how could she ever give you a chance when you had always been too afraid to ask?

“No point in getting into it. Doesn’t matter now, does it?” She said, her tone light and the look in her eyes far away. You took a step towards the window, taking a long look outside. Rows of chairs were placed in the large field, the pond in the background decorated with lily pads and the birds sat upon trees in the distance singing love ballads. You wanted to be happy, but your stomach felt like it was filled with lead and your bones were heavy with the weight of your grief.

Tell her.

“It is important, sweetheart. It’s always important, to me at least.” Of course you could not tell her. Every time you thought about voicing your love for her, your throat closed around the words and your tongue petrified. Your heart raced, your whole body vibrating with the intensity of the emotion you felt for her, yet sentenced to a lifetime of never being able confess your sins.

Loving her in itself was not a sin, but by god did it feel like one. It was your biggest secret, and your largest skeleton in the closet. It loomed over your head wherever you went, and it clung to the fibers of your being no matter how hard you tried to shake it off. At five years old, with mud streaked cheeks and grass stains on your knees, you loved her the same. At twelve, with cracking voices and awkward statures, you still thought she was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. At eighteen, when you were lucky enough to bring her as your date to senior prom, you swore you would never feel the same for another woman, and you still hadn’t. Just a few days ago, thousands of miles away, she was the only thing you wanted. With her wedding invitation folded in your wallet, her name in your phone with a heart beside it despite the years being unkind to your friendship, she was the only thing you ever wanted to come home to.

“No, because if I talk about it, I’ll psych myself out again.” At that, a spark of hope ignited in your chest.

“Again?”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, looking out at the yard too. A few guests were sat already, preparing for the main event. The event in which would forever haunt you. “I mean, it’s my wedding, the biggest day of my life. I think it’s normal to be anxious?” She posed it like a question, like she wanted you to tell her she was wrong, but you couldn’t. If you were to have her, it wouldn’t be like this. It wasn’t fair to ruin this for her for your own selfish purposes.

“Talk me through it, maybe I can help.” You offered. She took a seat on the edge of the bed, gentle and quiet as she smoothed out the skirt of her dress.

“I didn’t picture it like this.” She whispered, looking towards the floor. “I always thought I’d wake up on the morning of my wedding day, and I’d be overjoyed. I-I mean, I am, just not the way I thought I would be. I woke up, and it was cloudy outside. The sun’s not even shining, Jake.” You wanted to sit beside her, to pull her into your arms and tell her the sun was not shining because he was not the man she was supposed to marry, but you didn’t. Instead, you stood there, yearning to be the one who she was excited yet nervous to marry. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” She huffed, shaking her head at herself.

“Stop it, you always do that.” You said, stepping towards her. She looked up at you, noticing you were closer than before. Her stare paralyzed you, ensuring you could not progress any further. “You always act like how you feel isn’t important, but it is, Y/N. To me, it is.”

“But it’s not, Jake. I just have the jitters. Once I get out there and say my vows, it’ll be better. I know it will be.”

How do you know?

How does she know that when the curtain closes and the sun draws near the earth, that she’ll be happy with her decision? How does she know that even under the warm golden hue on the earth as it prepares for the night, the uncertainty would flee? How does she know that she won’t decide he’s not the one for her, only after it’s too late?

“If you say so, sweetheart.” You nod, biting back a sorrowful smile. She was looking at you, studying you, waiting for you to say something else. You wondered if she was waiting for you to say the very thing you’d sworn yourself to secrecy about.

Of course she didn’t. She was getting married, and not to you.

Still, there was this hint of hope in her eye you couldn’t help but pick up on. It was the same hope that you so often felt when you were with her.

“Anyway, enough about me and my woes… how was Europe? I’m sure much more exciting than consoling a pitiful bride.”

Never.

You would console her every minute of every day and you would never get tired of it, nor would you wish to be anywhere else. She was what you wanted, no matter the circumstance. You wanted her for all she was, the sadness, happiness and anger combined. You didn’t want her on technicalities nor did you want only the good parts. You loved her so dearly that you’d even take the worst from her, if that was all she was ever willing to give you.

“It was good,” You cleared your throat as you spoke, finding a lump steadily growing within it.

“That’s it?” She forced a chuckle out, clearly picking up on your distance. “Give me more than that. How can I live vicariously through you if that’s all you have to say about it?” There was humour in her tone, but she meant what she said. She still wanted to be there with you.

“Yeah, it was good.” You nodded, feigning a little more excitement. “It��s beautiful there.”

“Was it everything we ever dreamed of?” The simple question hit you like a brick, the sheer weight of her words nearly making you double over in pain. Suddenly, you were sixteen again, crowded in her tiny bedroom and sharing a comforter on her twin mattress. The air was chilly and the lights were dim, your bodies close, but never as close as you wanted to be. Laughter hung thick in the air, keeping you warm just as well as the blanket as you talked about dreams and fears of the future.

Out of all the fears, you never seemed worried about her not being a part of your biggest dreams.

Maybe you had been scared of all the wrong things.

“You would have loved it, Angel.” You confessed, looking away from her so you did not have to see the sadness on her face. “I wished you were with me every step of the way.”

“I should have went,” she whispered, pain clear in her voice the same as it was in your own. “In the beginning, I should have went with you when you asked. Maybe we could have done all the things we used to talk about.”

“You still can.” The words slipped out effortlessly, and you wished you could take them back. The sentiment hung heavy in the air, both of you knowing the meaning was much deeper than it seemed. “I mean… You know, you can always come visit, see the sights and stuff.” Your cover up was pathetic, but it was the best you could do in the moment.

“You guys still want me there?” She asked, surprising you with her intrigue. You’d expected a blunt rejection, but she was humouring your ideas. You turned to look at her again, unable to keep your eyes off of her. A small smile blossomed on your lips, a real one that could only be accredited to her.

“Y/N, there’s not a day that goes by that we don’t want you there with us.” It was the truth, even if it was heavy. She took in a long breath, looking down at her attire for a moment before catching your eye again.

“I think about it more than I should.” She admitted, shy about still living within that same daydream whilst oblivious to the fact that you’d never left it. Your heart fluttered at the idea of her still thinking about spending her days with you, sharing hotel rooms and building a new life together, away from your hometown, away from him. “Come sit with me?” She asked, hopeful that you would oblige.

Josh had told you not to walk into the building, not to knock on her door with sad eyes and a broken heart. At the time, you thought he was ridiculous for suggesting such a thing, knowing you needed to see her. Now that she was looking at you, more beautiful than ever, you knew he was right. It was a bad idea to come, and a worse idea to sit beside her when you knew it would do nothing but break your heart further. As you stepped towards the bed, sitting next to her, you just hoped that you would not break her heart the same as you were breaking your own.

You were still, staring forward instead of turning your body towards her like you so badly wanted to. Then, without warning, her hand reached out for yours, settling so cautiously over the back of your hand. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, just as wonderful as it was all of those years ago. You could not remember the last time anything felt so good.

Tell her.

“I’m really glad you came, Jake.” She said, quiet as a mouse as if her confession was a crime.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. You know that.”

“I do,” She agreed, but it was strained. “It’s just… been so long since I’ve seen you. I was worried I might not be as important to you anymore.”

She wanted to be important to you. Even now, when she was minutes away from being someone else’s, she would always be a little bit yours.

She had never been yours, but in some strange way, you both had the inkling that she was.

“You’ll always be important to me, angel.” You said, feeling her perfume begin to suffocate you. It was lethal, but you knew if you walked away, you would beg to come back just to die at her hands. “Do you remember when we were kids and you used to dream about this day? How I always told you I’d be here to hold your hand through it, just so you don't get scared and run away?”

“Yeah,” she let out a small laugh, but her mind was far away. You wondered what she was thinking, and you wondered if you even wanted to know. As terrible as it was, you hoped she was thinking about you. “How tightly can you hold my hand?” She asked, her tone airy and light, like she wheezed the words past her lips.

“What?” You asked, keeping the smile on your face as you turned your head to look at her. There was something unfamiliar in her eyes.

She was afraid.

For the first time in your life, you had to swallow the fact that the bravest person you knew was afraid of the future. No matter the circumstances, she had always been prepared. Even when your bags were packed and you held a plane ticket in your hand, ready to fly away from everything you’d ever known, away from her, she was not scared. You were terrified, tears in your eyes with shaking hands, but she never wavered and instead, encouraged you to follow your dreams. She kissed your cheek and hugged you tight, reassuring you that you could do anything you put your mind to.

If that was true, you would be able to say the words.

Jesus Christ, Jacob. Tell her. Time is running out.

You felt panicked, waiting for her to respond. You needed to say the words, but they were stuck in your throat again. You didn’t want to lose her, but your own cowardice was seeing that through.

“I want to run.”

Please, Y/N, run away.

Don’t do this.

“Why, sweetheart? I thought this was what you wanted? You looked so happy in the pictures on the invitation.” Convincing her to leave would be selfish, and she needed you to be selfless. You would be anything she needed, even if it was not what you wanted. “Is… is he good to you?”

“Oh, yeah.” She nodded, solemn in her answer. “He’s great.”

“…but?”

“But, I don’t think he’s what I want.” The words were like a breath of fresh air, a million pounds lifted off your shoulders. You were so featherlight that you felt like you were floating away. Hearing her say it was a relief, but it did not stop you from feeling guilty about it. “Everyone said it was okay to be nervous, but I don’t think it’s normal to doubt it. My mom said she was nervous to marry my dad, but she was so certain he was what she wanted. I’m… I’m not. I don’t know if I’m ready to give up my freedom, my last name. I don’t know if I can commit to him for a lifetime, because I can barely even commit to him right now.”

You wanted to ask. You needed to know if that meant what you thought it did.

Fucking tell her.

“I woke up today sick to my stomach, and it hasn’t stopped. I’m sitting here, and… ugh, fuck.” She groaned, her free hand flying to her forehead in exasperation. “I’m the worst, Jake. He’s so good to me, and I just… I don’t want him to be. The last few months, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to leave. If I do and nothing changes, then I’m the bad guy, and I don’t want that. It’s just… I love him, but I’m not in love, I don’t think. It’s boring, and every day is the same. When you’re in love, boring is nice, but this boring is just… boring.”

“Keep talking.” You encouraged, knowing that no matter which way it went, she needed to speak her mind.

“He doesn’t want to do anything. We don’t go anywhere, we don’t go on dates. We just sit at home and stare at each other. It’s been months since we’ve had fun, and I don’t know if I want a lifetime without fun. Even today… I didn’t want this. The big ceremony and the expensive dinner… it’s not me. I hate it, and he thinks I love it.”

You knew it wasn’t her, but you wanted to believe that she was the one who picked it. Hearing her say it broke your heart, knowing that this was not what she dreamed of when you two were kids. It was not what you wanted for her, either.

“I kicked my bridesmaids out because I needed time alone to calm down, and I thought it would work being away from the wedding stuff for a minute. I guess it did, but it wasn’t in the way I hoped it would be.” You reached into your suit jacket, your fingers searching for the inside pocket. They closed around the cool metal, pulling it from its hiding place as you extended your arm towards her. You knew you would need it to get through the day, but you didn’t expect her to need it, too. She looked down at the flask, her lips quirking into a soft smile. She grabbed it from you, placing her painted lips against the opening and throwing her head back.

“I’m your best man, y/n. I need to know if you want me to hold your hand so you’ll stay, or if you want me to start the car so we can get you out of here.”

“Don’t give me that option.” She chuckled, shaking her head as the whiskey burned her chest. Her cheeks turned rosy in reaction to the alcohol, reminding you she was still the same girl she was all of those years ago.

“Why, ‘cause you’ll take it?” You challenged.

“Yeah,” She nodded, answering without hesitation as she watched you take a sip, too.

“Then that’s your answer, doll. Don’t force yourself to stay when all you want to do is run. You feel that way for a reason.” Suddenly, convincing her to leave was no longer your best interest, but hers, too. You did not care what happened outside of the room so long as she was happy, and it appeared to you that she would not be so long as she stayed.

It just so happened to be the option that would make you the happiest, too.

“Thought you were supposed to hold my hand and make me stay? That’s what I always told you to do.”

What if I don’t want to do that?

“Is that what you want?” You asked, noticing your hand still held tightly in her own. She didn’t seem to want to let go.

“No… maybe? I don’t know.” She sighed.

“I always promised I’d do what’s best for you, Y/N, and if holding your hand and making you stay isn’t what you want, I don’t know if I can do it.”

Tell her.

“Would you hold my hand and help me run away?”

“That’s what best friends do, is it not?” You grinned, taking another sip from the flask.

“A best friend would tell me I’m insane, I think.”

“Right,” you give a slow nod, chuckling to yourself. “We’ve always been more like partners in crime, I think.”

“I’d say.” She laughed, nodding with you. “I missed you, Jake.” Your hand tightened over hers, your heart beating a million miles a minute. She held your stare, again adorning that same hopeful glimmer.

Is this what she wanted, or were you only seeing it in such a way because you wanted it so badly? Was she dropping you hints, or were you crazed by how dearly you loved her? Worst of all, should she actually run, or were you encouraging it because you couldn’t stand the thought of her staying?

“I missed you too, sweetheart. More than you know.”

“I feel good, Jake. Better than I have all day.” She confessed, intertwining your fingers with her own and rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand.

“Maybe you just needed to get it out and get on with your day?” You offered, saddened at the thought.

“No,” she shook her head, her voice quiet again. “It’s ‘cause you’re here. Been looking forward to today, but I think the only reason why is because I knew you’d be here.”

Love could not begin to describe how you felt for her, especially after hearing her say such things.

“Is that bad? I’m more excited to see you today than my future husband.” She said, her face plagued with guilt and her beautiful smile fading into a frown. In an instant, your hesitancy faded and you reached your hand out to cup her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, relief showering the both of you. Touching her felt like finally being home after a nasty bout of homesickness. You ran your thumb over her cheek, the makeup littering her skin not even thinking of smudging under your touch.

She was not the thorny rose that hurt you. She was not a beautiful thing that hurt to love. She was the petals, beautiful and breathtaking, and you were the thorn drawing your own blood.

Not once in this lifetime had she ever hurt you. You had become the one who was an expert at harming yourself. In that moment, the ache in your chest had nothing to do with how easy she was to love, and everything to do with the fact you had always been too scared to say it aloud. Relationships with others and miles between you could not dampen the adoration you felt for her, but that was not her fault. If only you had the strength to tell her, maybe the hurt would ease for both of you.

“I want to have fun with him, like the two of us used to have. I want every minute to seem easy, like it does with us, but it isn’t. It’s hard more than it’s ever been simple, and I don’t think that’s how I want to live my life.”

Was she saying it? Were you hearing the words you’d forced yourself to hold back? Was she saying everything you had been feeling all this time?

Tell her, Jacob.

“Even if I do change my mind, I’ve been in here all day saying these terrible things. How can I go out there and marry him after doubting it so much?”

She wanted you to answer her questions, but it was a dead end for both of you. If you encouraged it, it would be an admission of betrayal for her. You were her best friend, the one person who promised not to hurt her. If you encouraged her to run, you might be hurting her far more than it would help her. If you told her to stay, you were faced with the haunting feeling that both of you would look back on this moment and regret the decision.

“Answer this,” you said, keeping your gaze on her as you spoke. “In thirty years, if you marry him today, will you regret staying? Or if you leave, will you look back in thirty years and feel like you made a mistake?”

“I-I can’t answer that Jake. I don’t know.” There was a glossy look in her eye, one that spoke volumes. It was louder than any word she had spoken thus far. The fear and hesitation was clear in her face, and you wanted to comfort her, but you did not know how.

When you got on that plane, flying home to her, you never expected to be faced with such a situation. You never expected to feel hopeful about today, especially after you had spent so many months dreading it.

“I guess… it would be easier to regret leaving than regret staying, right?” She breathed. “If I stay, I’m wasting thirty years. If I leave, I can spend that time learning to love life in other ways, and maybe I’ll never think it was a mistake at all.”

“Right,” You nodded, looking back out the window, noticing people filling chairs. Your heart dropped to your stomach, wondering if she would follow through with her thoughts, or if she would stay out of obligation. Could you keep her occupied for long enough so she could come to the right decision? “I can’t tell you what to do, sweetheart, but I can support whatever you decide.”

“Will… will you take me to Europe with you?” She asked, her eyes pooling with unshed tears. “You’re going back, right? I-I… I want to do what we talked about. I want to travel the world Jake, with you.” She stammered out, as if she couldn’t believe her own words. “I know I sound crazy, I know I do, but I’m not. You’re… you’re my whole world, the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. You’re my best friend, and there’s so many things we promised that we never got to do. I don’t want to miss out on that, or be stuck in my hometown knowing I made a mistake by letting you walk away again.”

“Y/N,” You warned, wondering if she realized the extent of what she was telling you. Suddenly it all became real, and it was much larger than the fantasy you had been living in since you sat down beside her.

Josh was right, and you were breaking your own heart by entertaining an impossible idea.

“No, don’t tell me I’m wrong. I dont want to hear it.” She shook her head, silently pleading with you to be honest with yourself just for one second.

She felt it too. You have to tell her.

“Jake, take me to Europe. I want to see the world. I want to be with you again, and Josh and Sam, and Danny too. I want that more than I’ve ever wanted this. I don’t want to wait a year before I see you again and… I just, I can’t.” She was saying it in every way she knew how, without having to say the actual words aloud. “He’s not the person I should be marrying, Jake.”

You wanted to tell her everything, how you wanted it even more than she did, but it was not right. She was nervous, second guessing because of cold feet on the biggest day of her life. You could not take her away from this and ruin everything. You could not take her away and have her regret choosing you. Making her unhappy would be the biggest mistake of your life, and you would never be able to repent from it.

“Listen to me,” you said, taking her face between your hands, gentle and telling of all the love you had for her. “You wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t right, sweetheart. You are the most self-assured, smart, and level-headed person I know, and right now, this isn’t you. You’re getting married, angel. You’re going to go outside and walk down the aisle and steal everyone’s breath away, because you are the most beautiful thing that’s ever graced this earth. You’re getting married, and you’re going to be happy. I promised you I’d be here to hold your hand so you couldn’t run, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Jake,” she protested, her bottom lip quivering as tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. “What happened to whatever I decide? What happened you supporting me no matter what? Why would you let me say all of that just to tell me I’m wrong?”

“Maybe I lied,” you whispered, swiping away a stray tear. “Trust me when I say, I want you to come with us so badly, but I don’t want you to regret it. Right now, I think you will.”

“I won’t, Jake. Been thinking about it since you got on the plane last time. Every time, really.” She shook her head, panic beginning to set it. More tears made an appearance, and you did your best to wipe them away as soon as they fell.

You loved her enough to do what was best, even if it killed you to do it.

“Don’t cry, angel. Only happy tears, today.” You hummed, pulling her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you as if her life depended upon it. You held her just the same, knowing she had no idea how much it meant to you to have her in your arms. She had no idea how much it meant to you that she wanted to go with you, instead.

That was the reason you had to make her stay, though. You could not in good faith allow her to run away, because deep down, the motive would always be just a little bit selfish.

“I love you, Jake.” She said it with so much conviction that it was hard to ignore. She said it like a confession, rather than a fact.

“I love you, sweetheart.” And yours was a confessional statement too, even if she did not realize it. Just as the words left your lips, a knock sounded on the door. It forced the two of you apart, even if it was painful for the both of you. You brought your thumb to her face again, carefully swiping away the specs of mascara that had fallen. Her sadness plagued her, but it did not stand in the way of her beauty. Once she was back in perfect condition, you urged her to answer the door.

She stood, white gown flowing angelically behind her as her fingers wrapped round the golden doorknob. She pulled it open, now face to face with her mother, who was so busy jittering with excitement she failed to notice the grief written across her daughters face. She looked in the room, her eyes landing on you and widening with a joyous shock, happy to see you had made the occasion.

Would her mother be this happy if she knew you almost ruined her daughters big day?

She barely uttered a greeting before turning back to the girl you loved so dearly. “It’s time, sweetheart. Your dad is waiting outside. Are you ready?”

Are you ready? The question pounded in your ears like a drum, louder with every passing moment.

Is she ready?

Are you ready?

Tell her, Jake.

She looked back at you over her shoulder, stunning and breathtaking as if she was waiting for you to answer for her. Her mother watched you, only slightly concerned about the tension in the air.

“She’s ready.” You forced a smile, nodding your head. Her eyes caught yours as she pleaded with you to stop, to stop everything and stay in the room with her for just a little while longer.

She wanted you, the same as you wanted her, but you were not good for her. You were just the thing that was standing in the way of her forever. If it was meant to be, it would have happened all of those years ago.

Right?

Right?

Tell her.

“Will you walk with me?” Her voice, sweet as honey and smooth as silk, settled deep somewhere in your heart with no intent to leave. Would you walk with her? Could you handle such heartbreak?

“Of course, sweetheart.” You nodded, taking a stand. You straightened out your jacket, drawing in a long breath as reality began to take hold.

This was it. The very thing you’d had nightmares about your entire life. The love of your life, vowing to love someone else for the rest of hers.

Her mother straightened her hair for her, running a soft hand over the line of her shoulders where lace met soft skin. She ensured she was pristine, not a thread out of place before kissing her cheek and promising to meet her out there. She looked at you only, her gaze never faltering.

She wanted you, Jacob. Only you.

Her mother disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in heavy silence once again. It felt like weights were tied around your ankles, holding you there and sentencing you to an eternity spent in limbo.

Tell her.

“Let’s go, angel.” You said, taking a step towards her. Her eyes, pleading again, but her mouth did not move. She stood, stoic and statue-like. She was petrified from her own heart, unsure if she could take the heartbreak of having you give her away.

“Okay.” She whispered, her throat scratchy and her hands trembling. She reached out to you, the action telling you she still needed you to hold her hand and make her stay. You grabbed on to it, lacing your fingers together once more, unable to ignore how right it felt. “Please stay with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving you.” Your chest was tight, burning with rage towards yourself. Why couldn’t you do it? Why were you biting your tongue if it was only hurting the both of you more? You swore yourself to secrecy, letting yourself believe that the truth was more painful than silence, but that was no longer true. The truth would set you free, and possibly even allow you to love the one thing you never allowed yourself to have.

The hallway was barren, but voices were in the distance. Happy, bubbly, excited. The echoes were the exact opposite of the emotion hanging between you two. She should feel that way. Why didn’t she feel that way? She was happy before you showed up, stealing the light from her eyes even on her biggest day.

Was she, though? Really and truly happy?

You two walked together, the personification of grief becoming you both despite the joy you were supposed to be feeling. When you neared the end of the hallway, you had to stop. The world was spinning, seemingly crumbling before your eyes. Your stomach was sick, your palms sweating and your knees ready to give out under your weight. You couldn’t do it, even if you promised her you would.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, panicked at your sudden loss of confidence.

“I…” you trailed off, looking over her face. “I can’t,” you shook your head.

“You can’t?” You can’t what?” She pressed, anger bubbling inside of her. She needed honesty, and she needed it now. Why couldn’t you muster the strength?

“I can’t go out there.”

tell her.

Tell her.

Tell Her.

Fucking Tell Her, Coward.

“I can’t… I can’t watch you marry someone else.”

The world appeared normal, the sun still desperately trying to peek out from underneath the clouds and the birds still singing their pitiful love songs. The chatter remained in the hallway, unchanged and unbearable. Her hand still rested in your own, and her eyes were still watching you. Your heart was still beating, and your knees did not give way. The same look was on her face, and the glimmer in her eyes never changed.

The world looked the same, but everything was different.

Finally, after a lifetime of holding it back, you told her the truth.

“Why?” She asked, desperate to hear you say it. Her expression was not one of horror, but one of great hopefulness. “Tell me Jake. I need to hear you say it.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You rasped, your own throat dry as your words came out with a nervous wobble. “I can’t watch you marry him, because I’m in love with you.”

“Fuck, Jake.” The words hit you hard, like a knife even though she did not brandish them like a weapon. “Took you long enough, don’t you think?” You we’re too immersed in your own confession to care about her chastise. You opened the flood gates, and now there was no sign of stopping.

“When we were five, I loved you. Way back when we used to make mud pies and play pretend in my parents’ front yard, I wanted to do it with you for the rest of my life. When we were twelve, I loved you. We didn’t know what love meant, but we knew how much we meant to each other. When we were sixteen, making plans in your bedroom to travel the world together, I loved you so much it hurt. Right now, I love you the same as I did then, but even more so, because I know what it means, and I know it’s never going to go away.” You confessed, feeling the weight of the world being lifted from you. “Europe wasn’t everything we dreamed of, because you weren’t there. You weren’t there, Y/N, and I spent every night wishing you were. I came home to watch you get married, but I can’t do it, because I love you too much.”

“I can’t get married, Jake.” She said, looking over her shoulder to ensure nobody was onlooking the situation between you.

“I wanted to encourage you, to make sure you followed through with it because you deserve this life, sweetheart. You deserve the house, the dogs and the expensive ring and fancy wedding venue. You deserve everything, but I was always so afraid I couldn’t give it to you. Right now, I’m afraid that nobody could ever give you what I could, because nobody could ever love another person this way, this much.”

“You give me everything, Jake. You gave me the world when we were five, and you’re giving me the world right now, without even knowing it.” She said, the tears rushing to her eyes again. “I can’t get married to him, because I only ever wanted to marry you.” Her cheeks were damp with her misery, feeling guilty on behalf of a man she did not love nearly half as much as you. “I made this life, this new dream because you left, and I was afraid I’d never get the chance to live out the dream we made when we were kids. I spent all day unsure if I was making the right decision, but you showed up at my door, and now I know that I’m not. Marrying him has never been the right decision, and if I go out there, I’ll be looking for you in the crowd, wishing it was you standing beside me, instead.”

“Make the right decision, then.” You pleaded, knowing you could not make the first move. “Make the right decision, Y/N, because I’ve always been too scared to do it myself. Make the right decision before we lose our chance, please.”

She sprung forward, her hand slipping from yours and instead wrapping around your neck. One hand anchored on her hip and the other cupped her cheek, drawing her into you as she pressed her lips to your own. It was a feeling you’d been waiting a lifetime for, but the daydreams never came close to how it truly felt.

You told her, and she made the right decision, just like it was always meant to be. You’d been so afraid of something you never needed to fear, because she loved you just the same.

You could feel her tears on your cheeks as she pulled away, but the smile on her face contradicted the inkling of sadness that lingered on her skin.

“Happy tears, Jake.” She said, her face still so close to your own. “I’m happy, now. I’m not second guessing it, because I’ve spent the last six months making sure this was how I truly felt. Today was the last piece of the puzzle. You walking in that door made everything make sense. As much as it hurts to leave him here, it would hurt him much more if I married him while I was in love with someone else.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You said, running your fingertips over the soft skin of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed again, enamoured with the feeling of you touching her.

“Don’t be,” She shook her head. “I could have said it too, but it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is we said it now, before it was too late.”

“You’re dad’s gonna kill me.” She let out a laugh, the first genuine one since you got there.

“No, he’ll be fine. He likes you much more than he likes him.” She assured you. “My mom, though, is a different story. She’ll get over it.” She promised, leaning forward and pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “But, if we’re gonna make a break for it, we should go now, before anyone comes looking for us.”

“Right,” You grinned, nodding in response. “Let’s go get your things. I’ll text Josh.”

“He’s here too?” Her face lit up at the knowledge. You nodded, smiling at her joy.

“Everyone is.”

“Oh, god. They’ll be a witness to my craziness.” She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. The emotion was high, surging through the both of you like never before.

“Your crazy is mine too, angel.” You said, giving her hip a squeeze. “Partners in crime, remember?”

“Right.” She said, grinning up at you.

Without another word, she led you back towards the suite. You closed the door behind you, giving her just enough time to grab the most important things. You watched her scribble a note down on the back of a wedding invitation, likely an apology for the now ex-fiancé she left hanging. As you watched, you couldn’t help but smile, falling more in love with her by the second and only feeling slightly bad for the man she was leaving behind. He was losing the best girl in the world, but you could not dwell on his loss, because it was your gain. You were walking away with the love of your life, and he was losing a fiancé. You were sure the poor guy could find someone else.

To you, if you lost her, you knew there would never be another. Even before you lost her forever, you knew that to be true.

She turned to you, frazzled but still stunning despite her panic. She had a few things clutched tightly in her hand and a change of clothes in her arms, walking towards you and showing you she was not regretting her choice to leave. If anything, she was over the moon, and you could see it in her eyes. Instead of uncertainty, there was happiness sparkling within the beautiful hue of her irises.

“You want me to take that?”

“Yes please.” She breathed, handing the small items off to you. As you grabbed them, you noticed her finger was now ringless. The shiny diamond was sitting atop the goodbye letter, which was stuck in plain sight. “Tell me I’m not crazy.”

“You’re not.” You assured her. “Like I said, if you are, I am too.”

“I’m okay with being crazy together.” She said, more light in her eyes than ever before.

“The guys are gonna meet us in the lot out back, so you can get out of here without any questions. We can worry about the rest later.”

“Okay,” she nodded, a nervous jitter running through her.

“Hey, we’ll be okay. Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.” She said, certain in her answer.

“Then let’s get out of here.” You grinned, opening the door for her. She was still in her dress, her change of clothes held tightly to her chest. Before she stepped back into the hallway, she kicked off her heels and kissed your cheek as she passed by. As she sprinted down the hallway, your whole body flooded with love, but this time, you did not need to hold it back. After a lifetime of surpressing it, it finally had somewhere to go.

In true crazy fashion, as you sprinted behind her, another idea popped in your head. You wondered if her crazy had run out, or if she was just crazy enough to go along with it.

You thought you ought to try, because the day had been full of pleasant surprises. After all, the worst she could do was say no.

“Hey,” You called out to her, laughing as she looked back at you over her shoulder. “Slow down for a second.” You pleaded, childlike joy reflecting on both of your faces.

“What’s up?” She asked, a little breathless as her feet slowed to a stop. “Please tell me you’re not changing your mind.”

“What? F’course not.” You waved the idea off, knowing it was completely incredulous. “How impulsive are you feeling right now?”

“Considering I just ran away from my own wedding, I’d say very. Why?” She grinned, her fingers lingering over the handle of the back door, ready to flee at a moments notice.

Perhaps she wasn’t impulsive at all, and the idea of staying was harder for her than trying to leave. She was waiting for you to ask, all of this time. Even as she forced herself to marry someone else, all she ever wanted was you.

“Why waste the dress?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. She watched you for a moment, stunned at your words and unsure if she understood.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you began, checking over your shoulder to ensure nobody was looking for her. “Why waste the expensive dress? Marry me instead.” Her eyes widened, but she did not look horrified at the prospect. “I mean, come on. You’re in a wedding dress, I’m in a suit, I can buy flowers anywhere, and I want to be with you so bad I was willing to object the whole thing in the middle of your vows. If it hasn’t changed in twenty years, I’m sure it won’t change tomorrow.”

“A-are you sure? Like, really sure? You won’t regret it in the morning?” She asked, curious if you were in your right mind.

“I wouldn’t regret it in a million years, my love.” You promised. “I promise I’ll do it right, I’ll buy a ring and we’ll do a ceremony when the smoke clears from this disaster.” You both let out a laugh, knowing that’s exactly what it was. “But why waste the dress, especially when we know what we want?”

“Okay, crazy.” She nodded, cracking the door open. “I’ll marry you. Why waste the dress?”

“You mean it?” You followed behind her, noticing the rocks littering the paved lot and her shoeless feet. You reached out, grabbing her arm before she could step outside. She looked at you, then looked down at you taking your shoes off for her to wear. Her cheeks tinged red, a silent thank you dancing in her eyes as she jumped into the shoes that were just a little too large for her. You looked out into the lot, finding your three brothers standing by your car, waiting for you to join them.

“F’course I do, Jake.” She said, giving your hand a squeeze. “Partners in crime, right?” You couldn’t seem to stop the smile from blooming once again.

“Partners in crime.” You confirmed, stepping outside into the warm afternoon air.

“I love you, Jake.” She said, the sun shining down on her beautiful face, illuminating her in the most perfect picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. “Feels so good to finally say it.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You replied, taking in your surroundings. As you watched the sunlight shine over her face, your heart soared with affection. “Look,” you said, catching her attention. First, she looked to you, then followed your finger to the sky, where she could see the sun had finally broke free from the clouds, shining down without a single thing brave enough to stop it. “The sun is shining after all, sweetheart.”

As if you needed anything else to solidify that you had made the right decision, but the sun shining, eager to carry you home to start over only correctly this time, was enough to assure you of the importance of your choice. As you led her to the car, watching her eyes light up as she greeted your brothers, you were sickened at the idea you ever had a single shred of doubt at all. She was your partner in crime, whether that be at five years old, or eighty, and you were eternally grateful for that fact alone.

[kissingkiszka]

so im currently having some 🌶️thoughts🌶️ about Sams hands🥵…do what you please with this request please and thank you

Slow Hands - Sam Kiszka x Reader (smut)

Requested! Ask and you shall receive…

Words: 1.1K+

Summary: On a hike, Sam notices that reader has been eyeing up his hands and wants to do something about it…

CW: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, hands, finger!ng, praise k!nk, degradation k!nk, pet names, fem reader, hiking, smoking, sexual acts in a public space, possibility of voyeurism (?), Idrk

———————————————————

You and Sam sat on a rock by the creek, enjoying your afternoon. You had just gotten done eating your lunch, when you decided to take a small hike over to the creek. The forested area was beautiful. You went for a small swim in the water, and found a spacious rock to relax on afterwards. Listening to the creek flow made it even more relaxing and enjoyable, on top of your amazing boyfriend, who was quite the view just by himself.

Sam reaches into his backpack pocket and pulls out a small blunt. “Look at us, Y/N. In the trees, smoking a tree.”

He lights up, deeply inhaling. You watch the way his fingertips clutch the blunt, and that sight alone is enough to send chills down your spine. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Holy fuck, that shits good.”

He leans back, propping himself up with his free hand. You glance down, taking note of veined and calloused hand, his veins being even more accentuated due to him holding himself up. He takes in the view of the flowing water and the trees all around. Meanwhile, you can’t even take your own eyes off of him. You were do entranced by him, your own thoughts and desires had completely taken over the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, your breath caught in your throat, only to realize it when Sam turned to you, holding the blunt up to his mouth. “You alright?” He asks, slightly concerned. He blows out more smoke and his brows furrow out of concern.

And damn, does he look good doing it.

“Hm?” You ask, confused.

“I dunno.” He shrugs. “You gasped.”

“I did?” You gulp down your embarrassment of the confrontation.

“Yep.” He nods, his lips pressing together. “Thought you swallowed a fly.” He jokes.

“Dunno.” You shrug.

“Just making sure you’re alright.” He smiles, rubbing your shoulder. You feel a heat building inside at the thought of his strong hands touching you. Even worse that they’re actually touching you now.

Your head falls back at the feeling of his hand on your shoulder.

“You like that?” He grins, moving his other hand onto your other shoulder. The shoulder rubs become a full on massage.

“Mhm.” You mumble, feeling his hands roam around your back.

The massage quickly became more sensual, it progressed until his hands were exploring your entire body. You were experiencing true bliss.

“I wanna kiss you right now, princess.” He whispers, his face inching closer towards yours.

“Then do it.” You replied.

He leaned in fully, his lips colliding with yours. You felt fireworks exploding inside your chest. As if the burning fire of desire inside of you wasn't enough already. You were on the way towards combusting any moment now. You absolutely needed him, and you needed him quickly.

“Your lips are so soft. Fuck, sweetheart.” He mumbled.

“Sam.” You plead. “I need you.”

“You have me.” He smirks, his veiny and strong hands slowly traveling lower and lower down your body.

His hands land on your lower waist. His finger begins to play with the hem of your bikini bottom.

You nod, giving him the go ahead. As his fingers travel down lower, your breath catches in your throat once more.

“Wait-”

“What is it sweetheart?”

“What if people see us?” You ask.

“There's nobody here, honey. We’re surrounded by trees in the forest. If we hear someone, we’ll stop. Just try not to be too loud, ‘Kay?” He reaffirms any concerns you have.

You nod, “Kay.”

“Good girl.” He says lowly before he continues moving your bikini bottom to the side. “Did I tell you how good you look in this?” He lifts his chin and looks into your eyes. “This blue really suits you.”

Without warning, he swipes a passionate finger down your soaked folds.

You’re able to make out a bleak ‘thank you’,completely taken over by his fingers.

“Of course, Princess. Such good manners.” He spits out, running his fingers up your entrance. His pointer finger and middle finger land on your clit, eliciting a moan from you.

“Quiet now, baby.” He reminds you.

“Mhm.” You comply.

He continues to run his hands down your slit before entering inside of you.

“So wet.” He sighs. “And I know it’s not from all that swimming we just did.” He lets out a sinful chuckle as his fingers continue to explore your dripping pussy.

You shudder at the sensation, never wanting him to stop. You attempt to grab onto the rock for some leverage, but obviously, you ultimately fail.

“I know you love it. My hands.” He shakes his head, smirking. “I can tell you’ve been staring at them all day long. Don’t they feel so nice inside of you? You dirty girl.” He says, pumping his fingers inside. “Is this what you wanted? To be fingered by me?” He questions, unrestrained.

“Please.” You whimper, to which he ignores.

“Please, Sammy.” You repeat.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Keep going, please.” You plea.

“So needy.” He inhales a sharp breath. He’s just as turned on as you are right now, and you can tell by the rock hard outline of his cock pushed up against his swim trunks.

He plants a passionate but quick kiss to your lips, while you stay hungry for more. You’re eager for him, you’re desperate.

Meanwhile, he takes his thumb and begins to circle your clit with it. The sensitive bud is throbbing and aching, and you’re nearing release.

“Sam.” You plead through weak breath. “Fuck.” You shiver, your back arching at his touch.

“I know, I know.” He murmurs.

You open your mouth to let out a moan before you cover your mouth with your hand, remembering what Sam had told you.

“You remember what I said? Hm? So well behaved for me, baby.” His praises huskily, his fingers venturing deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Sammy.”

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Fuck.” You pant, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back in pleasure.

“You gonna cum soon? Hm? Be a good girl and cum for me.” He eggs you on, and he’s loving it.

“Yes!”

“Good. Only good girls cum for me.” He says picking up the pace. Release quickly catches up to you before you know it.

You continue to squeeze your eyes shut as a hazy wave of stars comes over you. Your vision goes blurry and your mind draws a blank as you come back down to reality. He moves his fingers away, sliding your bikini bottom back into place.

“Holy shit!” You chuckle, catching your breath.

“You’re amazing.” He laughs along with you, before leaning in and kissing your cheek. “I’m so glad I could please you.”

You blush. “Oh, you did exactly that.”

“I love you.” He smiles.

“I love you too.” You reciprocate.

“Shall we finish off our hike?” He goes to stand and reaches out his hand for you to take.

[asacredthebread]

cover by @no-other-mashter

A Cabin In The Woods - Ch3

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Sam x F!Reader

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚢?

Warnings/ Themes: Nice Sam, still only one bed, tying up his hair, reminiscing, implied boner, cliffhanger.

an: I can only apologise for the cliffhanger, I didn’t want this chapter to be too long! If you want to be added to a tag list specifically for this series, please feel free to DM me!

wc; 13.2k

taglist - @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf @fleetingjake @dannys-dream

As the two of you settled into the game of twenty questions, the atmosphere lightened with each exchange, and it felt like a playful dance around unearthing cherished memories. You began with an easy question about favorite childhood toys, and the conversation effortlessly flowed, delving deeper and bringing laughter that echoed off the cabin walls.

When it was his turn to ask, he decided to steer it into the realm of nostalgia, “What’s your favorite memory of us when we were kids?”

You grinned, a mischievous glint shining in your eyes. “Oh, I’ve got one for you. Remember that time you tried to impress me by climbing that tree in the park?”

He couldn’t hold back a laugh as you recalled the moment vividly. It had been a glorious afternoon, filled with sunshine and laughter, the scent of summer in the air. Sam, ever the daredevil, had attempted to climb higher than any kid had a right to. “How could I forget? I was so sure that I would be able to reach the top.”

“Yeah, and then you got stuck halfway up,” you replied, chuckling. “You thought you’d look cool, but instead, you were just hanging out there, calling for Jake like he was going to be your knight in shining armor.”

Heleaned back against the couch, shaking his head and grinning. “And who came to the rescue? Not Jake, that’s for sure. It was you, running over all in a panic.”

“Oh, yeah! I was a lifesaver,” you agreed, laughter dancing in your eyes. “I remember you were gripping that branch for dear life, trying to look casual, all the while internally freaking out while yelling for Jake to come help you.”

In your mind’s eye, you could picture the young Sam, arms splayed out in a desperate attempt at coolness, his cheeks flushed as the laughter bubbled in your chest. “You were so determined to impress me, and instead, you ended up looking like a raccoon caught in a tree.”

“Hey!” He feigned offense but couldn’t hold back the laughter. “And don’t forget how we both ended up with skinned knees after you helped me down.”

“Oh my god, yes! I forgot about that.” The joy of the memory washed over you as you recalled the tumble down, landing in the grass with a thud, both of you laughing despite the little scrapes. “But it was so worth it. We were laughing so hard, even with the bruises.”

“The best kind of adventure,” he added, and there was a softness in his gaze, a warmth that seemed to wrap around both of you as you relived that moment.

As the laughter died down, it was Sam’s turn to offer up a memory of his own. “Okay, my turn.. I think my favorite would have to be one of the early Fourth of July trips - the one where we went rafting?”

You tilted your head, encouraging him to share his own treasured remembrances. “Oh my God, yeah I remember that one!”

“Oh man, that was epic,” he said, a wide smile spreading across his face. “I can still see Josh getting tipped over into the water. It was classic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him at the memory. “And you were so sure you were going to fall in next!”

“Yeah, I dove straight for the oars just in case the worst happened.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “But what really cracked me up was Josh climbing back onto the raft, drenched and cranky about his hair. You remember how he kept complaining about how he needed to fix it?”

“I do! He spent half that trip trying to wring it out! He was such a drama queen about it,” you replied, grinning as you recalled the exaggerated gestures he had made.

“Classic Josh,” Sam laughed. “And I just kept paddling like a maniac, trying to avoid any ‘splash zones.’ It felt like a scene from a comedy movie.”

“It really was,” you agreed, feeling the warmth of the day wash over you again. “Those trips were the best. I can’t believe how much time we spent doing things like that.”

The nostalgia hung in the air, sweet and warm, anchoring both of you in those carefree days of youth. As you shared stories back and forth, delving into memories framed by laughter and adventure, the cabin felt less like a prison and more like a cozy sanctuary filled with the echoes of your shared history.

“Okay, my turn,” you said, still glowing from the laughter. “What’s your favorite dessert from back then?”

Sam’s face lit up, and you felt another ripple of excitement as the game continued, revealing stories that brought you closer. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of fond memories, it occurred to you how the silly game and shared laughter were weaving together a tapestry of connection that neither of you had anticipated—but might just make your time stuck here a little brighter.

As the laughter began to fade, you and Sam settled deeper into your respective couches, the novelty of the game giving way to a more comfortable rhythm of conversation. The initial awkwardness had started to dissipate, replaced by the familiar ease that you both shared. Sam's light teasing and your playful banter wove a tapestry of warmth that transformed the secluded cabin into a safe haven, despite the situations outside.

You glanced up at the clock on the wall, the hands inching closer to the midday mark. Realizing that you hadn’t eaten yet and that it was about time to make lunch, you pushed yourself off the couch, stretching your arms overhead. “Okay, I think it’s time for me to whip something up for lunch,” you said, glancing over at him.

“Wait,” Sam interjected, his demeanor still slightly cool but beginning to warm, a hint of something softer flickering in his eyes. “I’ll make it. You made breakfast, after all.”

You paused, surprised by the offer. “Really? You don’t have to—”

“I want to. Just sit and relax for a minute.” With that, he started to rise, but then he suddenly reached for his hair, quickly pulling it back into a ponytail.

The attempt was ambitious at best. A few rogue strands stubbornly escaped the hold, sticking out in every direction, amassing around his face like a wild halo. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the sight of him looking half-determined and completely disheveled striking you as humorous. “Oh my god, Sam! You look like a tornado hit your head!”

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes, but even he couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s functional enough, okay?”

“Functional, but definitely not cute,” you teased, your laughter still bubbling. “Here, come sit by me.” You beckoned for him to come closer, inviting him into the space between your knees with an open smile.

He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he assessed the offer, but something in your voice, the playful tone, softened him. With a begrudging sigh, he relented and moved closer, settling cross-legged on the floor between your knees, facing away from you.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to get too comfortable,” he muttered, though there was a playful undertone in his voice.

As he sat, you felt a swell of affection course through you. There was something intimate about this position, this shared space. It felt like stepping into the past, a return to the uncomplicated moments of carefree childhood—an era when everything was innocent and the connection was effortlessly simple.

“You know,” you said softly, your fingers itching to reach out, “if you’re going to sit there with that mess of hair, I might have to intervene.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning innocence, but you could see the way his shoulders tensed as he anticipated your next move.

With a teasing smile, you reached forward and gently pulled the hair tie out of his hair. “We can’t have you looking like this while making lunch,” you said playfully, as your fingers began to rake through his hair, seeking to smooth out the knots and tangles.

He made a subtle sound of protest, but the tension in his shoulders eased as you worked your fingers through the mess he’d created. “Careful with the hair! It’s valuable,” he quipped, his tone a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

“Valuable, huh?” you teased, gently tugging at the strands as you brought them back to their natural state. “This could probably double as a cleaning tool given how crazy it gets sometimes.”

“Just wait until I find a mirror and fix this,” he smirked, shooting a glance back at you, though a small laugh escaped him, betraying his good-natured spirit.

You focused on the task at hand, fingers deftly separating the tangled strands. The warmth of his body so close to yours brought a comforting glow, a friendly intimacy that you hadn’t expected to feel today. Your fingers danced gently through the hair, smoothing it out, inadvertently creating a soothing rhythm that resonated between you.

As you worked, the cabin filled with an easy camaraderie, and for a few moments, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this shared bubble of connection. You could feel the subtle shift in Sam, the way his initial tenseness began to ebb away, as if he were letting go of burdens that weighed on his shoulders.

And while you were lost in this simple act—calming the chaos that had formed on top of his head—there was an undercurrent of vulnerability in the air. Despite all the unspoken things lingering between you, this moment felt like a quiet declaration of friendship, a gentle reminder that trust and comfort could blossom even in unexpected situations.

As you carefully worked through the tangles in Sam's hair, you focused intently on the task at hand, relishing the way your fingers glided through the strands. Each gentle tug was deliberate, a conscious decision to avoid pulling too hard. You noticed that Sam had relaxed further beneath your touch, his body unwinding into a comfortable posture, and there was a softness in his demeanor that hadn’t been there before. It was as if the chaotic morning had dissipated, replaced by this unanticipated calm.

His hair was surprisingly soft, the strands silky and warm as they slipped between your fingers. The slight sway of his head every now and then suggested he was leaning into the moment, a rare vulnerability that he rarely allowed himself to show. You imagined that for him, this was a secret indulgence, perhaps a moment stolen from the rigid boundaries he often constructed around himself. You’d seen glimpses of it last night—the unguarded laughter, the shared stories—but now you were starting to feel the layers he was shedding while you cared for him.

As you gathered his hair into a proper ponytail, you recalled how different things had been just a few hours ago. This morning, he had woken up guarded and closed off, almost like a statue encased in frost. The harsh words exchanged between you last night lingered on the edge of your mind, still fresh and sharp enough to draw blood if you focused too hard. But as you bound his hair together, you couldn’t help but feel the change in the air, like a tide turning.

This morning, Sam had snapped at you, his cool demeanor piercing through the sleepy haze you both had woken up in. But now, under your gentle ministrations, he was starting to melt. You felt your heart flutter with the realization that he was perhaps beginning to warm up to you again, that maybe he yearned for change just as much as you did.

You tied the hair securely with a hair tie, making sure it was both neat and comfortable. “There we go,” you murmured, admiring your work. “Much better.”

The moment you stepped back, Sam turned his head slightly to glance at you, his expression a blend of surprise and appreciation. “Wow, you’re like a hair magician or something.”

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” you replied with a grin, feeling both playful and warm inside. With your fingers still tinged with the softness of his hair, you settled back into your position, observing him closely.

His smile was genuine—there was no faking it. You took a moment to appreciate how different it felt to see him relaxed, the tension he usually carried serving as a reminder of all the unkind barriers he placed around himself. In those moments, you could allow yourself to hope that perhaps he was letting you in again.

“Last night was intense, huh?” you ventured, looking for a way to bridge the developments.

He nodded, running a hand through the newly tied ponytail absentmindedly before letting it fall over his shoulder. “Yeah, you could say that.” His voice was contemplative, and the way he paused suggested more was lingering beneath the surface.

“That’s an understatement,” you said lightly, trying to ease the heaviness of the moment. “I didn’t think you’d turn into a drama king overnight.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, diffusing the air around you. “I might argue that title belongs to you, given the way you threw your hands in the air.”

“Touché,” you replied. “But I’d like to think my drama comes with style. Yours, however… well, let's just say it lacked finesse.”

He humorously rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I was completely justified.”

The easy banter settled into a comfortable rhythm, and as you exchanged witty remarks, you wondered if this was a fleeting moment or the beginning of something more promising between you.

As he leaned back slightly, resting his shoulders against your legs, you felt the shift in the atmosphere. His actions spoke volumes; he was inviting you into his space, allowing yourself to push through the walls he had built. And it struck you—had his actions this morning been a true look into how he was feeling about it all, or had he simply been terrified of what could change?

“What do you think we were fighting about really, all these years?” you asked, your curiosity bubbling to the surface. “I mean, was it really just about me breaking up with Danny?”

He sighed softly, his gaze directed at the floor. “Honestly? I think it was more about everything else—the things left unsaid, you know?”

You nodded, your heart racing as you recognized the truth in his words. “Like what?” you pressed gently, prepared for this opening. “What’s really bothering you?”

He hesitated, momentarily lost in thought, and you could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes. The warmth and comfort you had shared seemed fragile, but the opportunity was there, tantalizingly close. You could sense that your question had opened a doorway to a deeper conversation.

“I guess… I don’t want to mess up again.” He admitted slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “After everything that happened, it’s hard to not want to protect myself.”

“Protect yourself from what?” you asked, leaning a little closer, wanting nothing more than to understand him more fully.

“From feeling that heavy attachment again,” he said, his voice lower still. “You know? It’s like… I can’t decide if fighting and pushing you away is worse than letting you in.”

His honesty washed over you, a mix of vulnerability and strength that left you momentarily awed. And in that moment, you felt the sincerity of your connection, how deep it ran despite everything that had happened. You realized that in those shared moments, there was a potential for healing, an opportunity to rewrite your narrative together, to guide him through the delicate landscape of re-establishing trust.

“Sam,” you said softly, letting your voice steady. “We’ve both messed up before.”

“I know. But I hate feeling this way. It’s like I’m stuck.” His tone was heavy, but the tension was lightened by the way he leaned back further, comforted by your presence.

“Are you scared?” you ventured, wanting to keep the conversation open, to keep peeling back the layers.

“Yeah,” he said, his admission almost swallowed by the space around you. “Scared of getting too close, scared of it ending poorly again.”

You took a deep breath, considering your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to push him into a corner, but the truth bubbled beneath the surface. “But isn’t it worth the risk?”

He turned slightly, meeting your gaze. “Sometimes I wonder. But then I look at you and think…maybe you’re worth the risk.”

His admission sent a rush of warmth through you, the weight of your earlier tension lifting as hope began to bloom in the pit of your stomach. You realized then how deeply you cared for him, just as he cared for you, despite the mistakes and misunderstandings.

“I want to be close to you, Sam,” you confessed, your voice steady. “But I also need you to meet me halfway.”

“I can try,” he replied, his voice becoming more certain, the warmth radiating off him growing brighter.

With renewed determination, you decided to keep the conversation flowing. “So, what if we agree to be honest with each other, no matter how hard it feels? I don’t want to fight anymore. I want us to find a way to navigate all this together.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “That sounds good. And, um, thanks for doing my hair.”

A teasing smile crept onto your face. “You’re welcome. But I’m still claiming my title as the hair magician.”

Sam chuckled again, and it felt like a refreshing wind sweeping through the room. You realized that those moments of laughter became the threads binding you closer, the small fumbles and fleeting moments leading to something solid and real.

As the sun shifted position in the sky, casting warm rays that filtered through the window, Sam finally broke the comfortable camaraderie you two had built over the last hour. He stretched lightly, the motion causing his muscles to ripple slightly beneath his shirt, before pushing himself up from the couch.

“Okay,” he said, patting his knees. “I think it’s time to make us some lunch.”

You laughed, the sound light and carefree, enjoying the rhythm of the moment. “You’re not a magician in the kitchen too, are you?”

He shot a cheeky grin over his shoulder as he walked toward the small kitchenette. “Magic does not extend to the culinary arts. You’re gonna have to lower those expectations.”

You settled back in your spot, momentarily enjoying the view as he rummaged through the cabinets. A comfortable silence enveloped you, only punctuated by the rustling of bags and the clinking of pots. But, as you watched him prepare the food, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still wrestling with the lingering shadows of your past.

Just as he started to pull out ingredients for sandwiches, he glanced back at you. Pausing for a moment, he finally began to speak again, sentiment spilling forth like the ingredients he was arranging. “You know, when you were dating Danny, I was… jealous.”

The word hung between you, heavy yet almost relieving, like the steeping aroma of something familiar wafting through the air. “Jealous?” you repeated, surprised by the unexpected turn in conversation.

He nodded, his expression growing serious, the laughter of moments before evaporating. “Yeah. Jealous because it felt like he took you away from me. From us. And jealous of him too, for having you in a way that I never could.”

Your heart sank a little at his confession. It was like unearthing a hidden scar you never knew had festered beneath the surface. You had never wanted to take anything from him—not in any measure that would lead to hurt—and it pained you that your relationship with Danny had driven this wedge.

“When you broke up,” Sam continued, his eyes focused on the counter as if searching for answers in the disarray of ingredients, “I took it as a good excuse to put distance between us, hoping it would lessen how attached I felt to you.”

As he spoke, you felt a knot form in your chest, realizing this post-breakup handling of emotions hadn’t been easy for him. You wanted to reach out to him, to offer comfort or understanding, but you stayed where you were, focusing on his every word.

“I thought if I pulled away, maybe those feelings would fade,” he admitted, turning to face you fully now, vulnerability etched into his features. “I honestly hoped that the breakup would lead you to...leave the group or at least distance yourself. I thought that would give me some peace and help me forget.”

Silence lingered between you as his confession sank in. The tension that had previously hovered in the air twisted, reshaping itself into raw honesty, echoing with the weight of unresolved emotions.

When you finally found your voice, you said, “But… I didn’t want that. I thought we could all still be friends, especially after everything we all shared.”

He nodded slowly, a faint frown creasing his brow. “I know. But then you didn’t leave. Instead, you became even closer to everyone else. And that just… it hurt. I guess I was really good at putting on a cold shoulder, and it felt easier, less messy.”

You could feel the ache in his voice, the weight of what he had carried alone. “But you didn’t have to push me away,” you said gently, your heart aching for the distance he had imposed on himself. “I was always here, Sam. You just… made it hard for me to reach you.”

He looked at you, the flicker of confusion mixed with longing in his eyes. “I was afraid,” he admitted, his gaze softening. “Afraid of what might happen if all those feelings bubbled to the surface again. And I didn’t want to lose you completely if it came down to that.”

Your heart raced. Each word he offered peeled back another layer of the complexity of your relationship, an intricate web of desires and regrets tangled together. Realizing the depth of his feelings was overwhelming yet brought forth a realization of your own.

“That night,” you started, recalling the echoes of a disastrous argument that had happened the night that you and Danny had broken up, “that wasn’t just a fight about you defending him, was it? We were both dancing around the things we didn’t want to face.”

Sam sighed as he began assembling sandwiches. “Exactly. It was easier to argue about little things instead of the real issues between us. You know, the ones that just seem to sit there, getting heavier every time we ignore them.”

There was an earnestness in his voice that made you feel both grounded and exposed. “So what do we do now?” you asked quietly, wanting to navigate this emotional territory cautiously yet deliberately.

He paused, his hands stilled briefly over the sandwich he was preparing. “I think we start by being honest with each other, like we just did. And maybe—”

“Maybe?” you prompted gently, your hopes beginning to rise.

“Maybe I let the walls come down a little,” he said, finally looking up to meet your gaze. “I can’t promise it will be easy, but I want to try.”

A soft smile spread across your face. “That sounds like a good plan. I want to try too.”

For a moment, there was a quiet understanding, an acknowledgement of the journey you were about to embark on together. It wouldn’t be simple, but there was a sense of hope threading its way through the cracks of uncertainty, daring to breathe life back into a friendship that had been battered but not broken.

Once the sandwiches were prepared, Sam turned back to you, setting the plate down with a flourish that broke the tension that had built in the room. “Ta-da! Lunch is served.”

You laughed, the sound echoing in the small space as it filled the air—light and freeing, a shared warmth that began to solidify the fragile connection you both had rediscovered. “You might not be a magician in the kitchen, but this looks pretty good,” you replied, reaching for a sandwich.

As you took your first bite, the taste of fresh ingredients mixing with the warmth of the moment felt like a small victory. With every bite, it felt like you were breaking bread with the chance of a new beginning. The remnants of jealousy and distance were still there, but now they seemed manageable, recognizable. The beauty of reconnecting was not lost on either of you.

Over lunch, you let the conversation flow, mixing lighthearted banter with deeper reflections. You laughed about memories of shared failures in the kitchen, reminisced over particular moments of friendship, and slowly unraveled the need for vulnerability in learning about each other’s fears, insecurities, and desires again.

In this newfound space sparked by honesty, an invisible thread began to weave its way back between you, one that spanned the depth of both understanding and affection. You realized that both of you had wanted to protect your hearts, but somewhere in the tangle of it all, you had lost sight of what had made your friendship so special in the first place.

And as laughter echoed against the walls, mingling with the aroma of lunch, you began to see that the journey you shared wouldn’t be marked by moments of jealousy or fear anymore, but by a continuing commitment to face everything together, step by careful step. The lunch transformed into something far more important—a chance for reconnection, cautious yet filled with promise, a shared meal that symbolized the beginnings of healing and understanding between two people who had once been adversaries in their own hearts.

As the afternoon sunlight began to wane, casting a golden light across the cozy cabin, you and Sam settled back onto the couch, the remnants of your shared lunch cleared away. The warmth that had begun to grow in the room was palpable, not just from the freshly constructed sandwiches but from the renewed connection between the two of you. Conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the gentle rhythm of vulnerability being woven back into your lives.

Seated close together, you felt the comforting warmth of his presence beside you, the tension of the morning a distant echo. You glanced out the window, watching the sun sink lower on the horizon, streaks of orange and pink spilling through the trees. It was a beautiful sight, the world outside igniting with color, and for a moment, everything felt right.

But as the afternoon drew on, you could sense the shift in the air, the faint chill creeping back in. Sam seemed to notice it as well, for he shifted slightly, glancing toward the fireplace where the logs lay dwindling and half-burnt. Finally, he sighed and stood up, allowing the blanket he had draped on his lap to slide off slightly.

“We’re going to need more logs for the fire soon,” he announced, his tone steady, yet with a hint of urgency. “There’s only a few left and it’ll be getting chilly in here.”

You nodded, realizing he was right. The cozy heat surrounding you would soon dissipate if you didn’t take care of it. Sam made his way across the room to the door with a determined stride, but just as he reached out for the handle, he paused mid-motion. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere within him, catching you off guard.

“Hold on” he chuckled, turning his head back to you, mirth dancing in his eyes. “The log. Door’s blocked.”

You felt a genuine laughter escape your lips, the memory of that chaotic tumble bringing back the echoes of last night. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take you to realize!” you replied, enjoying the shared amusement that lit the atmosphere.

He huffed in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Of course, you would let me stumble around like an idiot.” But the smile that followed suggested he was teasing more than he was genuinely frustrated.

“Oh come on, it was kind of funny!” you shot back, letting the laughter linger. “Watching you move like you were on a mission while all that time there was just a need for a little creativity to get past that log.”

“Creativity,” he echoed with a grin, shaking his head as if dismissing the idea. “I’ll show you ‘creativity’ by throwing the darn thing out of the way next time.” He paused again but relished the shared chuckling.

With a subtle change in energy, Sam sauntered back over to the couch, fully retreating from his stint at the door. “Actually, I think I’ll just grab a blanket instead,” he said conspicuously, a hint of levity to his tone.

You leaned back into the warm cushions, content to let the moment linger a little longer. “A smart plan. Why battle logs when you can pull a cozy blanket around us, right?”

With a swift movement, he reached for a blanket draped over the back of the couch. It was thick and fluffy, perfect for wrapping up against the encroaching cold. Sam flung the soft, textured piece over the two of you before settling back down beside you, the familiarity of his warmth returning immediately.

“See?” he said, wrapping the blanket snugly around both of you. “Now we’re prepared for anything.”

You nestled close to him, sinking into the palatial fabric as a sense of comfort enveloped you both. “Much better. I always knew you were resourceful—just needed a little nudge to realize the simpler solutions,” you teased gently, your head leaning against his shoulder.

He gave a modest shrug, feigning a lack of interest in your compliment. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Well, you do have your moments,” you replied, your voice playful yet sincere. “But seriously, it’s nice to have this time together.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice softening as he gazed into the flickering flames. “I’m really glad we’re talking again. It feels… right.”

You paused in contentment, feeling the warmth radiate not just from the flames but also from the bond you were rebuilding together. “It does,” you affirmed, and silence settled between you, a warm cocoon in which to process everything you had shared.

You both leaned into the embrace of the moment, wrapped in the blanket and in each other’s company, the fire crackling gently in the background. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the serene heartbeat of the cabin and the tenuous peace of two souls opening up to one another again.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you turned your head slightly to face him. “You know, I actually like how things are changing between us,” you ventured, wanting to underline the significance of this moment. “It feels like we’re finally being honest about everything.”

Sam nodded, his expression pensive. “Yeah. There was so much holding us back before. I think I was just scared of taking that first step again. But now… it feels different.”

“I was scared too,” you revealed softly, feeling emboldened by his admission. “I didn’t want to lose you either—this deeper friendship, or whatever it is we’re building. I kept waiting for you to pull away, and I hated it.”

A shadow flashed across his face, a hint of regret that met your gaze. “Yeah, and I guess I clung to that cold shoulder because I thought it would protect me. But here we are, wrapped up against the world.”

You felt the heat of connection burn brighter between you. “I think we can face anything together,” you said, your voice steady.

He turned to you, his eyes glinting with warmth. “You’re right. It’s about what’s ahead that matters. I’m tired of running from my feelings. Let’s keep the door open this time.”

As you looked into his eyes, the echo of laughter and friendship melded together, creating the potential for something more profound. And in the enclosing dark of twilight, with only the soft glow of the fireplace illuminating the room, you felt ready to embrace every shift, every nuanced feeling that lay ahead.

With the warmth of the blanket between you, the shared memories glowing like embers around you, and the light of newfound understanding growing steadily, you both settled into an understanding that the evening was only the beginning. A pathway to uncharted territories of connection and possibility lay ahead—one built not just on shared histories, but also on the willingness to forge ahead, together, navigating whatever storms might come your way.

“You’ll have to tell me more about the secret magician hair tricks next,” he said after a moment, breaking the thoughtful reflection.

“Oh, I have plenty of those up my sleeve!” You laughed, and leaned deeper into his side, feeling the connection solidify with each shared moment between you.

You nestled deeper into the blanket, the warmth cocooning you as you and Sam exchanged comfortable glances, the moment inviting connection and open conversation.

With a soft sigh, you broke the silence, your curiosity bubbling to the surface. “So, how does it feel to have just completed the tour? I mean, it’s been such a whirlwind of a year for you guys!”

The question sparked a light in Sam’s eyes, igniting recollections that danced across his expression like the flickering flames in the fireplace. “Honestly, it feels surreal. We played in cities I never even thought I’d visit—a complete dream come true.” He leaned back slightly, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face. “From Tokyo to Paris, each show felt like a little slice of magic.”

Your heart swelled with happiness for him, the shared experiences of the tour coloring your view with an appreciation for their hard work and the art they created together. “It’s incredible what you guys have accomplished. I can't even imagine what it was like performing for all those crowds.”

“Yeah, it’s exhilarating but exhausting,” he replied, the laughter in his voice merging with a hint of weariness. “But it’s always worth it. The energy from the shows fuels everything we do.” He paused, his gaze settling on the dancing flames, and you knew there was another layer tacked onto his thoughts. “You know, the creative process is something we’ve honed over the years, especially when writing new songs.”

“Really? How does that work?” you inquired, leaning in with genuine interest.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar gesture that indicated he was transmitting from a well of fond memories. “Jake and Josh have this tradition of going somewhere remote to kick off the songwriting process. Nature seems to do something fantastic for inspiration—the silence, the fresh air—it just makes the words flow so much easier.” He chuckled, that warm and rich sound bringing a smile to your face. “I mean, we could never function on a tour bus like that. It’s got to be about disconnecting a little and finding that space to breathe.”

You nodded, imagining the landscapes they must have explored during those visits. “That sounds amazing. I can totally see how that would help.”

A glimmer of mischief flitted across his expression. “Speaking of which, I remember this one trip a couple of years ago. We took a hiking break, and it was supposed to be this epic adventure in a remote area. Great views, the works.”

“Let me guess, something went hilariously wrong?” you teased, egging him on.

“Oh, it was a comedy of errors,” he confirmed, a broad grin stretching across his face. “Danny just loved to show off, and while we were wading across the stream, he decided to hop on a stone for a better view. Well, he didn’t quite have the finesse he thought he did and ended up slipping right into the water.”

You burst into laughter, picturing the scene unfolding in your mind. “Oh no! Did he get soaked?”

“Absolutely! He went in with a huge splash, and it was all very dramatic,” Sam recounted, his eyes glinting with the kind of nostalgia that only comes from shared histories. “Jake, of course, did his best to save him, rushing over without a second thought to pull him out. But in true comedy fashion, he slipped right after Danny and fell in too!”

You laughed harder now, picturing the chaos of it all—the indignant yelps and the surprise splashes, two of your friends turned into a giggling mess in the middle of nature’s tranquility. “That’s amazing! I can only imagine how that must have looked.”

“It was ridiculous,” he admitted, shaking his head as he chuckled. “Here they were, two grown men floundering around in a freezing stream, while Josh just stood back, dying from laughter. He couldn't even help, he was just taking pictures, documenting the whole disaster!”

You continued to laugh along, your eyes sparkling with mirth. “What did Danny say after he got out? Was he mad?”

“Oh, he was furious at first—not at Jake, but at himself for being so reckless. But honestly, who could stay mad when you’re both wet, shivering, and covered in mud?” Sam smiled, his voice softening as he reminisced. “In the end, we all just started cracking up together. It became one of those memories that bonded us more than any of our successes.”

“That’s what it’s all about, right? Those crazy moments that bring you closer together?” you mused, your heart warming at the thought.

He nodded earnestly, his gaze thoughtful. “Exactly. It’s like every little adventure and misadventure adds to the tapestry of who we are as a band. Each experience, whether a success or a failure, is part of our story. And it sometimes leads to the best songs.”

“And I bet that one probably inspired a whole new track, didn’t it?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Funny you should say that,” he replied, an enthusiastic light returning to his eyes. “We did end up writing a song about it—we call it ‘Throwing Stones’ to poke fun at how we got there. It’s fun, upbeat, and it just ignites this lively spirit, reminding us to laugh, no matter the chaos!”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” you replied, a mix of excitement and sheer admiration warming your chest. “It’s so cool how you guys can turn life’s unpredictabilities into art.”

Taking a moment to let the conversation settle, Sam leaned back into the cushy sofa, his arm casually resting behind you on the back of the couch. “Honestly, it’s what keeps it all alive. Music, friendship, even the madness—if you can embrace it all, it makes the triumphs that much richer.”

Your eyes met his, and there was a understanding in the silence that followed, one that stretched beyond words. The stories, the struggles, the laughter—all wove together into an experience that you both cherished.

As you settled deeper into the blanket, you felt contentment wash over you anew. The gold of the setting sun faded into shadows outside, the room illuminated only by the soft flickering glow of the fire. The warmth between you felt like a harbor, anchoring the both of you in the present moment—a safe space where laughter, history, and genuine connection could thrive.

Feeling emboldened, you decided to dive deeper. “Speaking of songs, do you think you can write one with all the changes happening in our lives right now?”

He looked at you intently, his expression shifting thoughtfully. “For sure. It’s not just the crazy moments on tour—it’s the little things, the reconnections, the honest conversations. I think the feelings we’re going through right now are just as important.”

You smiled softly, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like the blanket you shared. “I’d love to hear how that transforms into music.”

“I promise I’ll write it down. Maybe we can even work on it together,” he suggested, that playful glint returning to his eyes, the allusion to past collaborations lingering in the air.

Your heart danced at his words, the prospect of shared creativity intertwining with the connection you had reignited. “I’d like that very much, Sam. Collaborating with you would be fantastic.”

He nodded with a satisfied smile, and again, a silence bloomed between you, but this time it was steeped with promise and possibility. As the fire crackled and the room darkened, the flickering shadows played across your faces, two souls wrapped in warmth, laughter—a reflection of the journey that had brought you both to this moment.

And there, beneath the soft glow of fading daylight, you found comfort not only in the stories you shared but in the future that stretched before you, painted with music, laughter, and above all, an effortlessly evolving connection.

As you nestled into Sam's side, the blanket wrapping snugly around both of you, a sense of warmth enveloped you both, not only from the fabric but from the connection that seemed to shimmer in the air. You felt a sense of comfort being this close, and it drew you even nearer, the soft sounds of the crackling fire filling the space around you.

“I’ve been following your journey online, you know,” you confessed softly, looking up at him with a smile. “Scrolling through Twitter during the tour has been quite the adventure, seeing everyone's reactions to your performances.”

A spark of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Oh yeah? What were people saying?”

You giggled, letting the memories wash over you. “It’s hilarious! There were so many tweets about the lines forming for your shows. Some fans camped out for days in advance, posting about every silly thing they did to pass the time. I felt like a part of this massive movement!”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s wild! You’d think they were waiting for some major festival or something.”

“Exactly! And every time you guys finished a show, the excitement would literally explode on social media.” You took a moment to gather your thoughts, excitement bubbling within you. “I even made it to a few shows myself.”

“Oh really? You were there?” His interest peaked, and you could feel the warmth from his gaze as he leaned forward slightly.

“Yeah! I didn’t want to be too loud about it, but I watched from the back a couple of times,” you admitted, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “It was absolutely enchanting.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious. “Enchanting, huh? I like the sound of that.”

“No, seriously!” you laughed, your heart swelling with the memory. “Watching you on stage was mesmerizing. I could really see how into the music you got. The way you moved with the rhythm...” You trailed off for a moment, lost in the memory.

“Yeah? What did you think?” he urged, an eager smile tugging at his lips.

“I loved when you had your bass solo,” you said, excitement creeping into your voice. “The way you walked around the stage, engaging with the audience. It felt like you were sharing this incredible moment with everyone there. You’ve got this magnetic energy that pulls everyone in.”

A warm flush crept to his cheeks, and for a moment, his humility radiated through the modest smile on his face. “Wow. I appreciate that. I just try to make it feel personal, you know?”

You nodded enthusiastically, the memories firing off one after another. “Exactly! It felt like you were feeding off the crowd’s energy. The way you’d look out at everyone, and the smiles you exchanged—it was infectious!”

“I’m glad you felt that. I love the connection with the audience.” He paused, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “What most people don’t realize is how important they are to the show. Their reactions fuel me just as much as the music itself.”

You felt your heart flutter at the passion in his voice, a reminder of why you admired him so much. “And every time you handed out a pick, you could see the reactions. It was like handing them a piece of treasure! The way their faces lit up—there's something so special about that.”

He chuckled, a knowing smile crossing his face as he leaned back into the couch, continuing to bask in the shared memories. “It’s like a little moment of connection, isn’t it? Those picks become keepsakes for the fans. It’s a small way of giving them something to remember.”

“It is,” you agreed, feeling the heat of your conversation mingle with the warmth of the blanket. “And I loved seeing it. Watching people clutch those picks like they were golden tickets… it kind of made the whole experience feel magical.”

He glanced down at you, a smile gracing his lips. “Now I’m a bit self-conscious thinking about it, but I’m really glad you enjoyed it that much.”

You smiled back, your heart swelling anew. “How could I not? You were in your element, and it was so beautiful to see you shine. Watching you perform was like witnessing a symphony come to life.”

His laughter dotted the air softly, lifting the atmosphere between you. “You have a gift for words. Maybe you should be writing the song instead.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought, the lighthearted banter further deepening the warmth existing in that moment. “Who knows? Maybe you could add a ‘lyricist’ to my resume.”

“I like the sound of that! Adding to your list of talents,” he said, looking down at you with amusement. “What’s next? Life coach?”

You giggled, shrugging playfully. “I mean, I have been known to deliver some pretty sound advice...”

“Now I *have* to hear it,” he pressed, leaning closer, an amused expression dancing on his face. “Hit me with your best life advice.”

You thought for a moment, tapping your finger to your chin in mock contemplation. “Always bring snacks on road trips. It's essential for maintaining sanity! That—and keeping your friends close.”

“Wise words, truly.” His laughter blended with yours, the moment fostering an easy camaraderie, the very essence of friendship flowing through your words and warmth.

As you settled back into his side, savoring the gentle closeness, the conversation shifted, bubbling over with lightness and the warmth of shared memories. The backdrop of the fire crackling softly created a cozy atmosphere, wrapping around you in a loving embrace.

It felt good to reminisce about the tour and your adventures, but even more so, it felt good to be here, sharing those moments with him—his laughter, his warmth, and the joy of rediscovered connections mingling beautifully in the air.

And there, amidst the laughter and shared stories, you both created a memory all your own, a kind of magic that promised to grow, one conversation at a time.

As the warmth of laughter and connection settled around you both, the comforting crackle of the fire flickered gently in the background, casting a serene glow throughout the room. Sam had shifted slightly, leaning his head back against the soft musings of the couch, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest becoming steadier as the minutes passed. His eyelids, heavy and content, fluttered with the remnants of wakefulness before finally surrendering to a peaceful slumber.

You watched him, entranced by the serene aura that enveloped him as he nestled deeper into your lap, his hair fanning out like a dark halo across your legs. In that moment, the bonds of friendship seemed to intertwine with a deeper intimacy—one that felt both profoundly natural and blissfully perfect. You absentmindedly combed your fingers through his hair, letting the silky strands weave between them as thoughts of the evening glided through your mind.

With a gentle tug, you pulled the hair tie from Sam's hair, letting it cascade freely down, each strand curling slightly around his face. It was almost poetic—his hair flowing with the same graceful rhythm that had captured your admiration during his performances. As you settled comfortably into this newfound closeness, you felt compelled to play.

Curiosity sparked within you as you decided to experiment a little with his hair, almost as if it were an artistic endeavor. You gently gathered the long strands, separating them with a delicate touch, and began to braid them into a single ponytail once again. The careful movements felt meditative, each loop and twist taking on a life of its own.

“Now, let’s see how this works on you, Mr. Rockstar,” you whispered playfully, glancing down at him to watch his expression remain blissfully undisturbed. He simply sighed softly, deep in dreamland. Encouraged by his peaceful demeanor, you continued working.

Creating the braid lulled you into a calm rhythm, hands deftly weaving the strands together with gentle precision. You found yourself smiling, thinking of how he would look sporting a brand new style, completely unaware of your creative efforts. But just as your fingers settled comfortably, you released the braid, letting it unfurl and fall apart once more, strands cascading in waves back onto your lap.

This process of braiding and unbraiding felt oddly soothing, a quiet conversation between you and your companion without the need for words. Time seemed to slip through your fingers as you continued this delicate play, teasing his hair between your fingers while humming a soft melody you had inadvertently conjured up.

Every now and then, as you let the strands fall apart, he would shift slightly in his sleep, a quiet moan escaping his lips that sent a flutter through your heart. For a split second, you paused, the sound of his contentment wrapping around you like the embrace of a shared secret. It sounded so innocent, so vulnerable. You couldn’t help but feel a profound affection swell within you—a mixture of protectiveness and warmth that filled the room like the softest blanket.

After a moment, you resumed your gentle ministrations, braiding his hair again, fingers dancing between strands with precise intention. Each intricate weave melded your shared laughter, memories, and the warmth of togetherness into something tangible—something that felt deep and meaningful under each gentle twist of his hair.

With every new braid, you caught little glimpses of him in his dreams—small smiles playing on his lips as if he were reliving cherished moments from the tour or funny exchanges that had colored your conversations. Sam looked serene, his brow relaxed and his cheeks slightly flushed in the golden glow of the firelight.

You watched the way he nestled deeper into your lap, and for a moment, you marveled at how blissfully unaware he was. It was intimate in such a gentle way that you almost didn’t want it to ever end. As you tangled strands into another braid, you found yourself lost in thought. The vulnerability of the moment, the trust shown in how easily he had fallen asleep, tugged at your heartstrings in ways you had not anticipated.

Each new braid became a pathway for the affection you felt, weaving and flowing between braids and unravels, signifying the push and pull of emotions that danced around the two of you. You started to think about all the late-night conversations, all the concerts, and the laughter that bubbled up so easily between you two. The thought warmed you, wrapping around you like the blanket you shared with him, creating a cocoon of honest sharing and pure companionship.

As you continued this quiet ritual, he stirred slightly again, another soft sound slipping from his lips, as though echoing a distant memory. You paused, glancing down at him, momentarily losing yourself in the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. It was almost like he was calling out to you even in sleep, urging you to continue the tender act of care. And with that, you returned your focus to the strands of hair, starting again to play.

This rhythm flowed easily between you, wrapping time in layers of delicate connection. For a while longer, you focused on your braid, weaving in dreams, laughter, and the essence of who he was outside of the stage—the calm after the storm, if you will.

The combination of the crackling fire, the warmth of your bodies curled comfortably on the couch, and the gentle play with his hair created a bubble where the outside world began to fade away.

It was a surreal blend of reality and dreams, and within that intimate space, you felt as if this moment—this connection—was something effortlessly beautiful. And perhaps, it was.

As Sam settled deeper still, you traced your fingers across his forehead gently in the most tender of touches, and the pure, unguarded vulnerability in that quiet moment made your heart flutter again. His hair felt so soft beneath your fingers, and for just a moment longer, you indulged in the serene pleasure of this peaceful companionship, weaving the strands of his hair, almost as if to weave a bond that transcended words themselves.

The hours seemed to slip away as you became lost in the quiet charm of the moment, completely absorbed in the magic of simplicity—the essence of friendship that was evolving right before your eyes. A smile played on your lips as you let your thoughts drift, cradling him gently as he slept soundly, warmth radiating from the both of you.

And in the golden glow of that soft light, time ceased to exist, and you both savored the beauty of just being—tangled in friendship, laughter, and the way life had a knack for stitching together its most unexpected moments into something not just meaningful, but endlessly cherished.

As you continued your gentle ministrations with Sam's hair, the softness of the moment wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The world outside slowly darkened, painted in deep shades of blue and indigo, quietly ushering in the late hour. You found yourself lost in the rhythm of the evening, shaping and reshaping the delicate strands of his hair, momentarily submerged in the wiggles of tranquility that filled the couch.

With a sigh, you pulled your gaze away from your delightful task and glanced towards the clock nestled on the mantle. The numbers glowed softly—far later than you had intended. Time had slipped away from you without fanfare, each moment merging seamlessly into the next. You felt a knot of warmth in your chest, half wishing you could freeze the time in this perfect, serendipitous place, yet realizing that the night was pressing on.

Looking outside, you saw that the vibrant hues of twilight had vanished, replaced by the dark cloak of night. The moon hung high above, radiating a silvery glow that illuminated the edges of the passing clouds. The stars peeked through as well, twinkling like a scatter of diamonds across the fabric of the sky. Yet with the night came a distinct chill that began to creep through the window, curling around the edges of the room, an insistent reminder of the late hour.

You turned your gaze back to him, still sound asleep in your lap, blissfully unaware of the passing time or the chill that encroached upon the cozy living room. His breathing was steady, and though he appeared peaceful, the cold air reminded you that maybe it was time to consider drifting off to bed. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight—his relaxed features, the way his lashes fanned gently against his cheeks—he looked utterly serene, like a child lost in the tranquility of a warm dream.

You brushed your fingers lightly against his forehead, wanting to keep him close, but knowing that the warmth of slumber would soon give way to chilliness if you didn’t act. Gently, you nudged his shoulder with the lightest of touches, careful not to startle him too much.

“Sammy...” you whispered softly, your voice barely piercing the quiet air. “It’s time to wake up.”

He stirred slightly, his brow furrowing before he let out a small sigh of contentment, but he didn’t quite rouse. You nudged him again, a little firmer this time, relishing the opportunity to tease him a bit. “Sammy, come on. It’s getting late.”

Finally, he cracked his eyes open, blinking against the dim light of the room. “Huh?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. His gaze fell on you, a sleepy smile spreading across his lips. For a fleeting moment, he looked utterly adorable, still caught between the realms of dreams and waking reality.

You smiled back, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “It’s really late, you know. The fire's died down, and it’s getting a bit chilly.”

He lifted his head from your lap, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn that made your heart flutter. “Wow, I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep,” he said, rubbing the remnants of drowsiness from his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late enough that we should probably head to bed,” you said softly, leaning in to meet his gaze more directly. “We don’t want to freeze out here.”

With a lazy grin, he looked around the room, as if only just realizing how cold it had indeed become. “I guess I got a little too cozy,” he chuckled, shaking off the last vestiges of slumber. “Guess that’s what happens when you’re surrounded by two of my favorite things—good company and a warm blanket.”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment. “I’m glad you feel that way,” you said sincerely, heart swelling with warmth. “But really, I don’t think we want to push our luck with the cold.”

“True,” he agreed, swinging his legs off the couch and sitting up fully. He stretched again, a fascinating set of movements that revealed the elegant nature of his body, the way years of performing had molded him into a beautiful form. You couldn’t help but appreciate the sight, a mix of admiration and the comforting familiarity coloring your gaze.

As he finally stood, you couldn’t help but admire the casual grace he possessed even in moments of drowsiness. He brushed the hair from his forehead with a half-hearted attempt to tame it, which made you stifle a giggle at how endearing he looked.

“Let’s grab some blankets and head to bed, then?” he suggested, his voice dipping lower with the suggestion, the idea of retreating into the warmth of the night drawing you both closer together.

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement building at the thought of snuggling up together after such a cozy evening. “I could use a warm bed after all this.”

“Lead the way!” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, and you found yourself smiling brightly as you headed towards the stairs that led up to the bedrooms.

As you ascended, you could hear the sound of his footsteps following closely behind, the rhythm of your movements blending into an understated melody that wrapped around you, adding another layer of comfort to the night. With each step, the chill dissipated, replaced with a warmth that thrummed quietly in your chest.

Once in your room, you swung open the linen closet, retrieving extra blankets that you wrapped around your arms like a comforting cocoon. Glancing over at Sam, you couldn’t help but let a soft smile slip onto your face as he pulled the curtains open, peering through the window at the starry night outside.

“I can’t get over how beautiful it is out tonight,” he remarked, his voice threaded with a hint of admiration. “It always feels like another world after a night like this.”

“And now we have our own little refuge,” you responded, a sense of contentment spreading through you. “We’ll be warm and cozy in here.”

He turned back to you, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “You know, if my hair keeps falling all over the place, I might have to borrow those good company skills to keep it tidy again.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you tossed him one of the blankets. “I think I can help with that! But right now, it’s time for some rest, don’t you think?”

His grin widened, and you could see the sleep still lingering in his eyes. “Definitely.”

As you settled into the bed, layering the warm blankets around you, you couldn’t help but feel that the day—though it had ebbed away—had transformed into something magical and real. The laughter you had shared, the moments of quiet intimacy, and now this gentle transition toward rest felt like a beautiful culmination of a night well spent.

You could sense that the warmth of friendship had deepened into something more—not overt, but definitely there, like those stars twinkling faintly in the night sky above you.

As you nestled into your blankets, feeling the comfort envelop you like a gentle embrace, you stole one last glance at Sam before you closed your eyes. He had settled himself beside you, cocooned in his blanket like a soft, sleepy giant. His eyes had begun to droop again, the peaceful look returning as he sank back into the warmth—not just of the covers, but, you realized, of this beautiful, unspoken bond that formed between you both.

“Goodnight, Sammy,” you whispered, voice thick with gentle affection.

“Goodnight,” he murmured sleepily, a soft smile gracing his features before he finally succumbed to the embrace of slumber once more.

With the stars gleaming outside and the warmth of your connection wrapping around you, you drifted off to sleep, heart lighter and mind filled with dreams of laughter, friendship, and the promise of many more nights like this to come.The night deepened steadily, and the world outside gradually transformed into a crisp, silent realm as the cold coiled itself around the house. Even with the warmth of the blankets and the intimacy of your shared space, the chill felt insistent beyond the window, a stark reminder that the winter night was far from forgiving. You could hear the wind whispering against the glass, an almost haunting sound that sent shivers dancing over your skin.

In the cocoon of your blankets, you felt warm and safe, the warmth between you and Sam a palpable comfort that ebbed and flowed like the quiet whispers of the night. You had sunk into a peaceful slumber, dreams flitting in and out like shadows. But suddenly, you sensed a stirring beside you—a shifting of the weight that seemed to draw your attention.

You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented as the dim light of the room seeped back into your consciousness. As your awareness came back, your gaze landed on Sam, who had pulled himself closer to you, his body pressing against yours with an urgency that seemed uncharacteristic of the calm from before. There was a softness in the way he nestled against you, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, surrounded by the material of your blankets.

“Wow, it really got cold,” Sam mumbled sleepily, his voice muffled against you. You could feel his exhalations against your arm, and it sent a wave of warmth flooding through you, contrasting sharply with the chill creeping into the room.

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the ticklish sensation that accompanied his slight facial hair brushing against your skin. The playful scratchiness felt both intimate and amusing, and you choked back another laugh as a ripple of warmth swept through you. It was a mixture of affection and something more, and you had to force yourself to focus, to rein in your bubbling mirth.

“Okay, okay, Mr. Cuddlebug,” you chided softly, pushing against him gently in a mock protest. “Are you trying to steal all my body heat?”

He chuckled lightly, his face still settled against your shoulder, creating a feeling of cozy closeness. “I can’t help it; you’re warmer than the blankets!” he exclaimed, a playful innocence in his tone. His fingers, in their warmth, found their way to your waist, encircling you slightly and pulling you closer.

You could feel your heart race in response, and for a fleeting moment, you basked in the comfort of his proximity, the way your bodies fit together so perfectly beneath the layers of blankets. However, as you settled back into the cushion of warmth, you became undeniably aware of a different tension that had built between you—something subtle but increasingly noticeable.

Sam’s body pressed against yours had suddenly shifted from a purely innocent cuddle to something a little more heated. As he nestled deeper into your side, you felt the unmistakable pressure of his arousal against you—a solid warmth pushing into your hip. You swallowed hard, sudden awareness flooding your senses with a mixture of surprise and something undeniably alluring.

The affectionate, cozy atmosphere blossomed into something charged, and it sent your thoughts spiraling in conflicting directions. Part of you wanted to tease him, to playfully bring attention to the situation, but another part—a more cautious side—felt the indescribable gravity pulling you both into unfamiliar territory. It was a sensation that blurred the line between friendship and something deeper.

“Um, Sammy…” your breath was caught in your throat, shaky and uncertain as you turned your head to glance down at him, intrigue licking at the edges of your hesitation. The room had grown unbearably still, the chill outside forgotten in the fervent warmth of that moment, yet a flicker of nervousness danced through you.

He lifted his head slightly, meeting your gaze with a drowsy smile. “What’s up?” His voice had a softness, a still murmur caught between sleep and waking, and it only served to amplify the unusual tension of the moment.

You sensed the vulnerability radiating off of him, that moment when both of your thoughts seemed to converge upon the same realization yet carried with it the weight of unvoiced expectations. “You’re… um,” you started, faltering slightly though you knew you needed to address what was becoming obvious. “You know you’ve got, like, a little—”

His expression shifted, realization dawning on him, and the playful, sleepy demeanor gave way to something more aware. His cheeks flushed lightly as he hastily shifted away from you, creating a space between you both as abrupt as it was unexpected. “Oh—wow, I didn’t mean to—sorry,” he stammered, the words coming out with a breathless rush.

Despite the sudden awkwardness, a giggle escaped your lips before you could hold it back. The laughter surprised you both, filling the room with an unexpected lightness, easing the tension that had sparked in that shared space. “Oops,” you mused playfully, your heart still racing, “Guess I should’ve seen that coming.”

With a sheepish smile, Sam ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly embarrassed but equally amused at the whole situation. “Yeah, I should’ve thought that through,” he admitted, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Guess I got a little too… comfortable?”

The laughter lifted, repeating in playful waves, and you found that the initial shock had morphed into an intimate moment—one that held the potential for deeper understanding and connection. It was a hesitation, a boundary that shifted ever so slightly in the warmth of your friendship, yet it felt inherently right—the tension transforming into a shared secret.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said softly, the night being too enchanting for discomfort to linger. “We’re just two friends keeping warm, right?” You nudged him gently, teasing as you decided to playfully lean into the moment rather than shy away from it.

“Right, just two friends,” Sam echoed, a little more playfully now, his gaze meeting yours with that familiar spark of mischief you’d come to adore.

But even as the playful exploration lingered in the air around you, there was something unmistakably different now; the spark had flared brightly, and you could sense the acknowledgment that extended between you both, teetering in the grey area of friendship and something deeper.

You both sank back into the warmth of the blankets, laughter weaving into comforting silence, and though the laughter had eased the initial tension, you savored the understanding that hung in the air—a shared acknowledgment of hidden desires, of the closeness that drew you in yet again.

Time flowed more easily as you settled back into a comfortable position, Sam’s gaze flickering down to the blankets, a smile lingering on his lips. “Well, since it’s so cold out there, maybe we should keep the body warmth going? It’s definitely cozier that way,” he suggested, his tone laced with a sweetness that made your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” you responded, feeling a wisp of excitement surge within you. “Cozy sounds perfect.”

With that, he didn’t hesitate to pull you back into him, sharing warmth as he wrapped his arms around you once again, burying his face into the crook of your neck, brushing his facial hair against your skin once more in a way that sent delightful shivers tingling down your spine.

This time, though, the moment felt different—an electric thrill ran through you as he nestled in closer, the space between you almost nonexistent. It was a sweet surrender to both the chill outside and the warmth of the connection you both had, a promise woven in that intimate silence: that you would both navigate this new terrain together, exploring what lay ahead in the darkness of the night.

You melted into the warmth of Sam’s embrace, grateful for the cocoon of blankets that shielded you from the biting cold that continued to seep through the walls of the house. The winds outside howled with an unsettling fierceness, but inside, the atmosphere felt luxurious and safe. You reveled in the closeness, but as moments drifted by, the chill creeping into the room began to settle into your bones once more, a stark reminder that winter was relentless.

You couldn’t help but notice how Sam’s body radiated warmth against your skin, and the desire to snuggle in further began to pull at you. With much hesitation, you began to slowly push yourself back into him, feeling the inviting heat emanate from his body. As you nestled closer, the seamless bond between you grew thicker, pulsing with an energy that both excited and comforted you in equal measures.

However, the moment you shifted, you felt the unmistakable outline of his arousal pressing against you, more pronounced now than it had been before. A thrill ran through you—a blend of nervousness and exhilaration—as the proximity heightened your awareness of the situation. He grumbled softly, a sound that reverberated against your skin, sending an unexpected shiver through you.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and still teetering on the edge of drowsiness. The inquiry was laced with both curiosity and something undeniably playful, and his tone sent sparks dancing through the space between you.

You stifled a giggle, and a soft smile broke over your face as you met his sleepy gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you, a blend of vulnerability and amusement that made your heart race just a little faster. “I’m just cold,” you replied, feeling adventurous, even daring, as the words slipped from your lips. “The blankets are nice, but there’s still a chill in the air, and you’re like a human furnace.”

You pushed in even closer, a playful challenge in the way you allowed your body to mold against him, reveling in the contrasts—the warmth you felt from Sam juxtaposed with the retrenching cold. His body reacted, muscles tensing in response to your movements, and for a moment, there was an overwhelming silence, each of you acutely aware of the newly charged atmosphere surrounding you both.

As you settled against him, you felt a flicker of mischief light up within Sam. He brought his face closer, his breath warm against your shoulder as he grazed his teeth softly against your skin, almost like a gentle warning—teasing yet commanding, summoning you to acknowledge the tenuous line you were both now dancing upon.

A gasp slipped through your lips, barely restrained, turning into an accidental whimper as the sensation sent an electrifying thrill through your spine. It was an instinctive reaction, drawn from reflex as you felt the warmth of him pressed firmly against you. In that moment, you realized how close you were to crossing from the comforting safety of friendship into something far more intense, something that sent your heart racing with excitement and trepidation.

The sound of your reaction hung thick in the air—a mixture of vulnerability, desire, and the realization of the intimacy you both shared—in that suspended moment where time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded into silence, and all you could focus on was the delightful tension simmering between your bodies.

It felt exhilarating yet disconcerting, that heady blend of fear and allure. You could feel Sam’s heartbeat against your back, the steady thrum echoing the words spoken in those simmering moments—words unvoiced but acknowledged all the same. It was a collective understanding that this wasn’t merely about comfort anymore. Something deeper was unfolding, an acknowledgment of the chemistry you both had long felt but was now pushing to the surface, begging to be explored.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you processed your surroundings, your fingers playing with the fabric of the blankets, caught somewhere in a liminal space between friendship and something entirely different. Your heart raced as your body responded to the intimacy—the closeness, the warmth, and the undeniable connection that seemed to weave itself tighter with each passing second.

It was a moment that seemed to encapsulate everything you had been feeling, everything that had been lingering in the unspoken air between you, and it felt both intoxicating and frightening. You could almost taste the anticipation hanging there, sparking into something electric, searching for an outlet, waiting for someone to take that leap further into the unknown.

And so you lingered, wrapped in the warmth of impending change, wondering where the night and your burgeoning connection might lead.

The tension in the air morphed from electricity to playful teasing in an instant, the magic of that moment lightening up at Sam’s smirk as he leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Wow, someone’s a little sensitive,” he joked, a playful laugh escaping his lips. “Whimpering already? I didn’t think I had that effect on you yet.”

His teasing carried a familiar tone, one that stirred memories you had thought buried. It brought back the days when you two were practically enemies, rivals in everything—classes, sports, and even friendships. The banter was always quick and sharp, filled with snarky comments and snide invitations to outdo one another. You could remember the countless times you had glared at each other across the room, daring another to take the first step into a confrontation.

The nostalgic rush of memories made your heart race for entirely different reasons, and in that instant, your body reacted as if struck by a light bolt. You shot straight up from the bed, the blankets pooling around you in a chaotic mess as your mind jumbled through emotions, battle scars of rivalry colliding with the familiar warmth of affection.

“Are you serious right now?” you exclaimed, voice rising with incredulity. “We were doing so well! How could you fuck it up like this?” The words tumbled from your mouth, a mixture of frustration and disbelief, shockwaves of your past echoing in the heat of your outburst.

Sam's eyebrow shot up in genuine surprise at your sudden shift, the previously playful atmosphere hanging heavily between you. “Wait, what?” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement despite the severity of your tone. “I was just teasing! You didn’t have to go all dramatic on me.”

You felt a slight rush of adrenaline, the heart-pounding kind that had defined so many of your earlier encounters. There was a thrill in standing up to him, showing that the warmth and affection couldn’t mask the fire you’d once wielded so easily. But before you could walk fully away from the bed, Sam’s arm shot out, gripping your wrist and pulling you back down with surprising strength.

“Hey! If you keep complaining about everything I do, I might just have to give you something better to do with your mouth,” he purred, a mischievous glint in his eye that left no room for doubt as to the implications of his words.

His tone hung in the air between you, an unspoken challenge woven through his suggestion—one that danced brazenly along the edges of the playful rivalry you had once thrived on. You couldn’t help but scoff, a laugh bubbling up from your core at his audacity. “Oh please,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow as you faced him, a teasing smile creeping onto your lips. “You wouldn’t be giving me much to work with.”

The moment hung there, throbbing with tension, humor mingling with the intensity of your previous exchanges. Sam chuckled, the sound warm in the cozy room, and his reluctance to retreat from your banter was palpable, a friendly duel of words as natural as breathing.

“Is that so?” he challenged, his voice low and playful, running his fingers through his hair in that familiar way that always made him seem effortlessly charming. “You’re not even considering what I could do if you stopped being so dramatic for just a minute.”

“Oh, dramatic? Look who’s talking,” you countered, your heart racing at the sheer audacity of your conversation. “Do you seriously think I’m going to just sit here and take it?”

“Are you sure you want to challenge me?” he shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Because I could definitely make it worth your while if you let me.”

Feeling emboldened by your tension, you leaned forward just a fraction, closing the space between you two again. “I’m not afraid of you, Sam,” you declared, the words coming out with a playful bite, pulling your old personas of rivalry into a new territory that was somehow easier to navigate grounded in this warmth and shared comfort.

“But, in that case,” he said, leaning in as well, lips curving into a smirk, “you might want to brace yourself.”

A surge of excitement coursed through you as you felt the playful challenge hanging in the air. The dynamic had shifted so decidedly from your past encounters, intertwining the comfort of camaraderie with the thrill of newfound exploration. As you teetered on the precipice of uncertainty, there was an undeniable chemistry shared in those moments, a fire igniting between you as your words danced like flames in a gentle summer breeze.

“Bring it on,” you whispered back, heart pounding at the thrill of the shift. The night felt electric again; the stakes had transformed into something deliciously unpredictable, eager for the two of you to navigate the terrain of what came next.

You both lingered there, on the brink of something new, laughter and teasing biting at the edges, enveloped in warmth, words igniting the very spark that had drawn you together in the first place. It was a heady mix of everything you had been, and everything you could become, wrapped in the bittersweet tension of your shared history and the promise of an exhilarating future yet unwritten.

[samkiszkasfacialhair]

Lay Me Down

Lay Me Down

Pairing: Sam Kiszka and Reader

Summary: You give a hurting Sam some love and attention.

Warnings: Mention of pain medicine

Word Count: 1.5k

Sam was hunched over his piano in the dining room, deeply concentrating on what he was doing. From the kitchen you could see him as you loaded the dishwasher. He’d play a few notes, write something down in a notebook, add to it, and then record it on his phone. After a few hours, it seemed like he had a whole song completed.

“Done!” he said as he stretched his hands up with his phone in his hand, and groaned. 

As he stretched, he arched his back slightly and you watched his purple t-shirt lift up, giving you a view of his lower back and the band of his underwear sticking out from the waistband of his gray and white striped pants. 

He met you in the kitchen and instantly pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. 

“The album… is officially… done,” he said, sighing as he took a swig and rested his forearms on the counter, letting his head fall down between them with his hair fanning out onto his arms and the granite countertop. 

“Well, the keyboard parts are done,” he corrected himself with a chuckle, his voice muffled. 

He pressed his arms down on the countertop and contracted and arched his shoulder blades slowly, stretching out his back from the fixed position he had been in for the past few hours. 

Groans and sighs escaped his mouth as he relieved some of the tension and stiffness.

With his head still down, he reached up with one hand and began massaging the spot between his shoulder and his neck. He dug his fingers into his skin in an attempt to loosen up his stiff muscles. 

This happened often to Sam. He would hunch himself over his instruments time after time, only realizing the side effects of his poor posture once it was too late. Thus resulting in many unsuccessful self massages, heating pads, and shoulder and back stretching that didn’t really do anything, causing him to be sore the next day regardless. 

You walked over to the other side of the island, placed your hand on his back, and rubbed up and down on him gently, leaning down with your forearms on the counter just as he was. 

“Take a hot shower,” you whispered, giving his hair covered temple a little kiss, “and come to bed, hm?”

He nodded, inhaled deeply, and lifted his head up to look at you with a soft smile and tired eyes. 

That soft smile turned into a bigger one once he felt you hand smack his butt gently, urging him to get moving. 

The once calm house bubbled with joy and laughter as two of you giggled down the hallway with Sam chasing after you as you headed toward the bathroom. Before you knew it, you were pinned between the vanity sink and Sam’s body with his mouth on yours and your hands in his hair. 

“Okay,” you laughed in between kisses as the countertop of the vanity poked into your spine, causing you pain, “Okay, you won!”

Sam pulled away, breaking the kiss with a very satisfied smile on his face, and turned around to start up the shower. 

Once Sam had stepped into the shower, you grabbed a few things from the vanity cabinets and headed to the bedroom.

On his nightstand you set down a hand towel, body oil, and a bottle of painkillers. 

A freshly showered Sam entered the bedroom in nothing but a pair of boxers, reaching behind his head, still rubbing his shoulder, causing the skin there to become a shade of pink. 

As he approached the bed, his eyes narrowed at the sight of the products on the top of his nightstand before turning to you in the doorway to the closet. 

“What’s this for, huh?” he asked you with his fingertips just grazing the top of the bottle of oil.

“Lay down, Sammy,” you said sweetly as you approached the bed in just a tiny matching pajama set, one which even though it was casual, it was still sexy and Sam loved it.

Sam did as you said, laying down on his back like he did every night he was home, assuming you’d cuddle up next to him until you both fell asleep.

But tonight was different. You had bigger plans for Sam tonight. 

“Lay on your stomach, Love,” you said as you grabbed the bottle of oil and lifted your legs to get onto the bed. 

Sam rolled over, pushing the sheets and blankets away from him to give you space as you joined him.

You crawled on top of him, straddled him, and sat down on his butt, to which he let out a soft laugh in response. 

His eyes were closed but one opened to peek at what you were doing behind him. His eyebrow raised with curiosity as he watched you open the oil and pour a decent amount into your hands, letting the excess drip onto his bare back. 

The second your hands made contact with his skin, his eyes closed once more. 

At first, you were gentle, getting him to relax and just rubbing the oil around from the waistband of his boxer briefs all the way up to his neck and shoulders, feeling every breath he took as you lightly smoothed your hands all over his back.

After a bit of warming him up, you began the job you intended to do. 

Pressing both of your thumbs into the dimples on either side of his base of his spine, you began. With pressure, you slide your thumbs up his back until you reached his shoulder blades. 

“That feels nice,” he said in a tired voice, almost slurring his words. 

“Shh, just relax, Baby,” you whispered as you repeated the action a few times before continuing with his lower back for a bit.

You kneaded the palms of your hands into the meat of his back near his hips, pushing and pulling at his skin and muscles, releasing some of the built up tension and earning a few more soft moans from him. Once you got a good motion, you worked your way up his back again until you reached the place he needed you the most. 

Grabbing the chunk of skin between his shoulders and his neck- you felt it. 

Every long rehearsal.

Every late writing session.

Every show from this past tour and probably the tour before that. 

You gave him a good squeeze, kneading his tight muscles with all the strength you had and instantly his once relaxed face tensed up and he hissed through his teeth.

“Hurts?” you asked, loosening the grip you had on him and gently rubbing your hands on his skin to soothe him.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “but it’s a good hurt,” he assured you. 

A small “Kay,” was all you replied with before continuing again.

You pushed your thumb deep into him while digging the rest of your fingers into the other muscles as more audible moans escaped Sam’s lips. 

As you applied more pressure, Sam’s eyes shut tight and his mouth opened.

A loud “Ah,” left him when you pressed your thumb into a previously untouched spot, which seemed to be the spot to hit. 

“Mhm, right there, get in there,” he groaned, almost pleading with you to keep going.

You giggled just a bit from his desperation and continued, leaning down to give his shoulders just a couple light kisses. 

As you continued, you could literally feel the tension in his muscles being massaged away, so you could only imagine the relief Sam was feeling. 

After some time, Sam’s groans turned back into hums, assuring you that most of the built up tension that was causing pain had left his body.

But what really proved it was the tiny closed mouth smile that appeared on Sam’s face as your hand movements became gentler and softer until they came to a complete stop.

Once all the oil was wiped up and a couple pain pills were working their way through Sam’s system, you crawled back into bed with him again, only this time, you cuddled yourself up next to him and he instantly pulled you close with his chin resting on the top of your head.

His skin was soft from the oil as you rubbed his back gently with your fingertips.

“Thank you,” Sam whispered lazily, “I’ll repay the favor for you.”

“Will you play me that song tomorrow?” you asked quietly.

“‘Course. And anything else you want,” Sam replied, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

As you rubbed his back, he rubbed yours, lulling you to sleep until his breathing became deeper and his hand stilled.

“This is all I want,” you whispered as you cuddled yourself closer to an already peacefully sleeping Sam.

[ageofnev]

rubble to rubble

summary- after a very unexpected, but very welcome surprise.. you and danny figure out the ropes of parenthood together.

pairings- dad!danny | danny wagner x reader | danny gvf | danny gvf x you

genres- fluff |warnings- mentions of needles, blood, child birth and body insecurity

a/n: my first fic, and hopefully my intro to a long series of little drabbles <3

you could feel it. something in your body felt different, not to mention you were nine days late for your period, which was off because you were never late.

which is why right now, you and Danny stood in the bathroom at nine pm, waiting for the timer on his phone to ding. you had your arms wrapped around his waist while your head lay against his chest.

“what if I am pregnant?” you asked as you felt his hand drag up and down your spine under your hoodie.

“well.. then you are and we’ll figure it out. it’ll be okay, baby,” he spoke as he kissed the center of your forehead.

it wasn’t like you were only dating, you’d been married for almost a year now, and you’d always wanted kids, and so did he, but now seemed like such an insane time. he left for tour soon and would be gone for months. you lifted your head off of his chest as you heard the timer on his phone go off. you spun around in his arms, reaching for the test. you could see your hands shaking, and before you reached it, you heard him speak again.

“I promise it’ll be alright whatever it says. if you aren’t, then okay, our time isn’t now, and if you are, we’ll figure it out,” he spoke, before pressing a kiss to the side of your face. you nodded before you reached for the test and flipped it over. your eyes widened as you read the small screen.

pregnant.

you turned towards him, put it in his hand, then watched his face as he looked down at the test. you noticed a smile creep up on his lips, before he sat the test down, wrapped his hands around your cheeks, and kissed your lips a few times before looking at you. “we’re gonna be parents.” he spoke softly, and to which you nodded as you felt the smile appearing on your face as you teared up.

“yeah.. yeah, we are.” you giggled softly through your tears.

the next three months went by so quickly. you found out, told his parents, your parents then his best friends.

you’d never forget it for as long as you lived. Josh screamed, wrapped you up in a hug, and told you how happy he was for you two.

Sam told Danny that he expected the baby to be named after him, and Jake.. oh Jake.

Jake was so ecstatic about the news. you swear to this day that he had teared up when he hugged you. he told you and Danny both over and over how happy he was for you, how proud he was, and how much of a great parent the two of you would make.

the day of the baby shower, you were positive Danny hadn’t slept all night. he was up, awake, and ready by nine when you slid out of bed.

Josie and Lori had planned the party, and when you and Danny arrived at the party, the look of it nearly made you cry. it was absolutely beautiful. you saw the white dresser in the corner, and you knew the color inside determined what gender your baby was.

Danny swore up and down that he didn’t care what gender the baby was, but you knew he wanted a girl. you wanted a girl as well, but neither of you would mind if it was a boy.

the party went so well, and you enjoyed seeing everyone. the time finally came. you and Danny thanked everyone for coming, and then you opened the dresser drawers together as a set. your heart sunk and you teared up immediately at the color.

pink! you were having a girl!

you turned towards Danny, laughing as he lifted you off of the ground and spun you around. you kicked your feet up behind your back, and threw your arms around his neck while the room erupted in claps, yells, and cheers.

“Oh my GOD!” Danny laughed as he held you close to him even after your feet touched the ground again.

before you knew it, it was 3:29 am, you were sitting on an exercise ball, your jaw hung open, a small groan leaving your lips, as a contraction numbed your legs. Danny sat on the hospital bed in front of you, your arms crossed as they laid across his legs, your head laid down on your arms.

you felt his fingers run up and down your spine as he spoke softly. he’d been such an angel through this whole process, catering to every single one of your needs, like right now, he was holding you in his hands even though he’d finally started to doze off; because right now his needs didn’t matter. this was about you.

“Have you thought about the epidural? it might help, sweetheart.” Danny said as he moved his hand up and down slowly. “if not that’s okay, it’s up to you.”

“I think I’m going to have to.. my legs are numb and I can hardly breathe,” you spoke against his shoulder.

hours went by, the pain came and went, and before you knew it, you held your baby girl in your arms, your finger rubbing her tiny cheek as you looked at her. you were smiling, and your eyes were filled with tears as you watched her eyes open. “hi sweet girl..” you whispered.

Danny had left to go see his mom and sister in the waiting room and would be coming back shortly, leaving you alone with the baby. you’d chosen the name, so neither Danny nor his sister or mother knew the baby’s name.

Penelope Josie Wagner.

you gave Penelope Josie’s middle name, as she had been a big part of your pregnancy and she was the best sister-in-law, and your best friend. your eyes left the baby as you watched Danny come back in, with his family.

Lori’s hands came up to cover her mouth as she teared up a bit, and Josie walked over to you. She hugged you gently, then looked down at the baby. “what’s her name? it’s killing me, I have to know.” she spoke with a small smile.

“Penelope Josie Wagner.” You spoke as your eyes turned up towards Josie. “you were the support i needed sometimes when i didn’t want to talk to danny,” you spoke with a small laugh as you teared up. “and you’ve been my best friend since middle school, so i thought it seemed fitting.”

“Y/N you’re kidding.” Josie spoke as tears slid down her cheeks, her hand holding her chest as she looked at you. when you shook your head and told her you weren’t, she immediately hugged you and spoke over and over about how thankful she was.

you could already tell how loved your little girl was, and being surrounded by people who loved her dearly made your heart swell.

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Thirteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (a small amount of masturbation) Alcohol / Drinking, Suggestive conversations, dicking around on the job, Mentions of Sexual preferences, Flirting, Fluff, terrible dad jokes, and unfortunate amounts of pirate comments.

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Jake is still reeling from the events of the night before, when Charlotte rolls up with a wonderful proposition that he could NEVER refuse. Leading them into a fun game that helps him get through the rest of the night.

Author's Note: THE GAMES HAVE BEGUN. They really are so precious and watching them learn how to interact with each other has me giggling and kicking my feet. (even though I'm quite literally in charge of them 💀) Can't wait to hear how you guys feel after this one!! 💕😍

Bathroom Light - Mt Joy "So, come on, baby, let's do this right, I think I like falling in love in the bar bathroom light."

“I feel like we should talk.” 

Not my favorite thing she’s said to me, if we’re being honest. Charlotte’s leant against the doorframe to my office, her hands are busy playing with the dainty rings she has on. 

“Okay,” I say, “you can come all the way into the room though.” She scurried in, shutting the door quietly behind her. 

“I don’t know how to say this,” she starts, sounding timid, which is unusual for her. 

I can’t stop myself from speaking up, “Did I overstep?” 

“Oh my god, no. No, not at all,” she spits out. “I actually.. um.” She looks back down at her hands, a small grin grows on her face. 

My eyebrow pops up, waiting for her, “What?” Comes out with a slight laugh. 

“Maybe we could be friends who, like..” her face turning red as she whispers, “maybe hook up sometimes..” 

We’re friends? She wants to - with me? I- oh my god. 

“Oh,” I can hardly form words with the speed my brain is moving at, “Oh, uh, we can. Yes. I would be okay with that.” My eyes finally met hers, knowing full well that I probably look far too excited. 

“Really?” 

I watch her chew the inside of her lip and see her hands shake slightly, which honestly makes me feel a bit better. At least I'm not the only one who gets nervous. I reach out, grabbing one of her hands with both of mine, which gets her to look back at me. 

“Really,” I say quietly, “Whatever you're comfortable with.” Finally standing up from my desk, she just looks at me, and I can’t quite tell what's going on inside that pretty little head of hers. 

Suddenly her arms are wrapped around my neck in a hug, catching me off guard. I let my arms sit around her waist as she lets out the sweetest little laugh next to my ear. 

“You’re sure about this?” she asks, leaning back to look at me. I get to spend more time with her and possibly get laid once in a while? YEAH, I THINK I’M SURE. 

“You can be the Captain of this ship,” I tell her, choking back a laugh as hard as I can. 

She does not; she drops her head, leaning against me as she barks out a laugh. Her small frame just shook against me, but at least this time, it was happy. 

Still laughing, she looks back up at me, “You’re so dumb,” she manages to get out before leaning forward to press a sweet kiss on my lips. I could get used to that.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I didn’t anticipate the torture that I would endure after that conversation, having to be around her in the bar and stay normal about it. She already made me feel on edge, in a good way, before the last twenty-four hours, but now it’s ungodly how tense my body feels. 

I try to spend as much time cleaning and talking to the regulars that have come in, but I continuously find myself looking at her. I just want to talk to her. 

I pull out my phone, quickly type out a message, and slide it under the bar in front of me. 

Me: so.. does this mean I can just.. kiss you if we’re not around people?

My hands sweat at the thought, but god, what I’d give to kiss her again right now. I glance over as she picks her phone up, seeing the smirk creep onto her face. Looking around the bar to see if anybody might need something until my phone lights up. 

Charlotte: I'd like that. 🤭

Charlotte: You have a pretty mouth, so I think we should. 

Feeling warm at the compliment. A pretty mouth? I had been told on a multitude of occasions that I’m a bit more feminine, but given that my counterpart is Josh, who keeps his hair short and has facial hair, I don’t think I had much of a fighting chance. But I’ve never been complimented like that before, and I think I liked it.  

Me: play along 

I walk over to where she’s sitting, and her eyebrows pull in for a second looking at me. Sliding carefully behind Mel and Josh, I lean against the bar facing her. 

“Can you come with me? I need your opinion on if something is up to code,” I tell her, my voice at a normal volume but giving her a slow wink. 

“Oh, absolutely,” she replies, “Mel, I’ll be right back.” 

I meet her at the end of the bar, gesturing toward the hallway and leading her to our cooler. Once we’re out of sight, sticking my hand out behind me for her which she immediately grabs. We round the corner into the back room, and I turn to face her, pulling her into me. Tilting her chin up with my free hand, seeing her smile as I do. 

“Hi,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss against my lips. 

Letting out a small ‘mmm’ as my arms rest around her waist, “Let me just—“ Leaning in, noticing the way she doesn’t actually close her eyes. She just watches my mouth. Feeling her hands find their place on my stomach as I take her bottom lip between mine, making my heart shake. I wonder what makes her feel like this. Pulling my arms back slightly, letting my hands hold her waist, lightly squeezing her when I feel her hands grab my shirt. That must be something. 

“So, about that opinion,” I whisper into her, making her giggle. She reaches up, wiping the smudge of lipstick she left on me, and my stomach turns at how gentle she is.

Her eyes slowly look up, meeting my stare as she lets out a quiet, “I think that exceeds the standard, for sure.” 

We both hear footsteps in the hall; backing away from her quickly and folding my arms across my chest as she nods when Mel rounds the corner into the cooler.

“Jake, the POS is living up to its name.. Can you help?” she rolls her eyes, clearly frustrated. 

“Shit, yeah, I’ll be right there.” 

We both watch as Mel quickly turns, leaving the room looking fairly defeated. Standing there in silence for a matter of a few seconds before we both let out a quiet laugh. 

“I guess I need to do my job,” I whisper to her, making her smile. She turns to face me, fixing my shirt for me and moving a rogue hair back into place. Her hands linger on my chest as she looks at me, which only makes the butterflies in my stomach go wild. 

The smirk on her face is killing me when she says, “Go save them, boss man.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The bar continued to get busier, making it harder and harder for me to not actually do my job. Almost as if flirting with pretty girls isn’t in my job description or something. Stealing little glances at her any chance I could while we quietly texted each other random things. 

Charlotte: You have to stop looking at me like that 

I grab the empty glasses from a table, walking back towards the bar but sneaking up behind her. 

“Like what?” I whisper next to her ear, setting the glasses on the bar top in front of her. Giggling as she jumps slightly, scowling at me, but that doesn’t stop my stare. It would be easier if she wasn’t gorgeous. My eyes fell between her lips and holding eye contact.  

“That,” she whispers back, “whatever that is.”  She leans into her hand while the other falls into her lap. 

“You don’t like it?” I ask, forcing myself to stay focused on her eyes. Leaning onto the bar next to her, letting my hand hang over the edge. 

She smiled softly, “No, it’s terrible,” oozing with sarcasm fell from her lips, feeling her hand graze mine. 

My head tilts slightly as my eyebrows raise, “and why is that, honey?” I whisper, pulling my bottom lip in with my teeth, watching as her face flushes. 

Forcing myself to back up, grabbing the glasses as I go, what I wouldn't give to just spend the night with her instead? 

Me: do you like being called honey? 

I set my phone under the bar, pouring a few drinks for the regulars sitting there, trying not to look over at her, but it’s impossible. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I see her pulling up her phone. What if she hates it? 

Charlotte: Mmmm I might 🤭

I'll never be sure what possessed me to call her that the first time. I've always just used ‘sweetheart’ or ‘dear’ because they feel safe and really can’t be taken too out of context. Also, to be entirely honest, I typically don’t get far enough with a girl to give her a cuter pet name than those.  It just sort of came out when I saw her start to melt down, and it’s stuck. 

Charlotte: Do you like that I use your full name? 

Her sweet voice calling me ‘Jacob’ plays in my head on a loop, so it’s safe to say I don’t mind it. Although, the way she called me ‘baby’ made me want to crawl out of my skin. She had me wrapped around her finger in that moment.  

Me: you can call me whatever your heart desires 

I looked over at her, saw her smile at the response, and quickly started to type. This game of twenty questions is definitely making tonight go by a little faster. 

Charlotte: That doesn’t really roll off the tongue nicely- I think I’ll stick with calling you by name or baby 😉

I audibly laugh at her text, unprepared for her to get me with a classic dad joke. It was almost enough to distract me from the last part, but no such luck as my heart fluttered at the pet name. I could go for hearing that a little more often. Wandering over towards her, I lean down as I grab the glass from in front of her and whisper, “You’re more than welcome to slip a ‘Captain’ in the mix as well, yknow?” 

She leans into her hand, propped up on the bar, “So, you do like that, huh?” 

“Felt a little different coming out of you,” I tell her, shrugging as I back up a little and biting the inside of my lip as she watches me. 

Her eyes rake down me before letting out a quiet, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I help Josh for a few minutes, pouring a handful of drinks for some regulars and running to grab orders from a few of the new tables that just came in. Rounding back behind the bar, I slide my phone out of my pocket quickly. 

Me: since we’re doing this- do you have questions or shall I continue 

Tossing my phone under the bar, turning to wash a handful of glasses for them. I try to just focus on what I’m doing. But I just want to pay attention to her. I turn around as I’m drying and putting away the glasses, doing my best to scan the room for anybody who may need anything. My eyes fixate on her as she sets her phone down and looks over at me. I pick up my pace drying, sliding the glasses onto their shelf quickly so I can grab my phone, needing to know what she said. 

Charlotte: I’m assuming you’re a physical touch person? 

Me: you would be correct but I’d like to say I can cover all the bases if you like something else more. 

I’ve always been a touch person, especially given that I’ve spent my whole life with Josh. He can’t go two seconds without grabbing your arm if he’s telling you something. So, it’s definitely something I’d developed over time and also suffered from; the lack of physical touch I’ve had in the last couple of years is contributing to the urge to ask her every two minutes to meet me somewhere hidden. Even though I would do whatever she prefers, I just hope she enjoys physical touch because I don’t know how I’m supposed to avoid it. 

Charlotte: Oh, touch is near the top with words of affirmation for me, so I think you’re doing just fine 

Knowing she likes words of affirmation makes my stomach knot up, the amount of things I’ve held back because I don’t want to overwhelm her. But I’ll tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen every day if she’ll let me. Despite the fact she was just being open, I decided to test the waters on this situation we’ve put ourselves in. 

Me: soo.. does that mean you like to be..reassured or no?

Hitting send, I immediately feel like I’m sweating. I pour a few beers waiting for her reply, hoping that she knows what I meant and that she doesn’t take back everything she said in my office today. 

Charlotte: A little praise never hurt anybody.

I whip my head over to her, and my hand wipes over my mouth as she smiles at me. The fact I’m blushing over the answer to the question I asked feels ridiculous. Why did I think this was a good idea? Making eye contact with someone at the bar who wants to order, I walk over to them. Taking their order and turning to grab all the bottles needed for it, I slide my phone from my pocket, setting it on the counter as she texts me again.  

Charlotte: Do you always like to be the Captain? Or do you like to let others assist? 

My eyes shut while I take a deeper breath; why is she doing this to me? Forcing myself to focus on mixing their drink, but my brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. She did have a little dominant streak in her yesterday. I grab a napkin and bring the drink back over to them, nodding as they thank me. 

‘All for me, baby?’ plays in my head, and I guess I had never thought about preferences like that before. Most girls I had been with at this point wanted nothing to do with being in control. I also was typically not the most sober in these instances, so it’s debatable how dominant I even was. They just wanted me to do the work, which in the grand scheme, was fine. 

The way that she wants to have control makes my body tingle. Something about the idea of her telling me what she wants me to do is kind of hot. She basically had me begging for her yesterday, so maybe I’m a bit more submissive than I thought. I get head one time, and I’m reflecting on my entire sex life. Jesus Christ, chill out. 

Me: I’ll gladly let you steer anyday, don’t have to ask twice 

I wipe down the back counter, reorganizing a bit, anything to keep my brain from spiraling out of control over her. I wash some glasses in painfully hot water in hopes that it’ll prevent anything uncomfortable from happening to me while I’m just trying to get through this shift with her. 

After a few minutes of torture, I pick up my phone again. 

Charlotte: In that case, meet me in the bathroom? 

I’ve never replied faster.

Me: 🫡  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Couldn’t wait any longer?” Winking at her as I lock the door behind me. 

Her smile is devious as she runs her hands up my chest, “When you look like this? Not at all.” Tugging me closer by my shirt, tilting her head back as I lean in to kiss her. 

All I can think is how lucky I am that I’m in this weird little situation with her. The fact that she’s communicating things to me, even if we’re doing it in a kind of vague way, makes me feel a little more confident with anything that’s potentially going to happen. 

Pulling away from the kiss for a second, I gently move some hair away from her face, just taking her in. My other hand is holding her lower back, keeping her close. The way she’s looking at me makes my heart pound. 

“Can I ask you something while we're here?” I mumble, watching her eyebrows pull together. 

“Obviously.” 

“I just want to hear your response to this one,” I start. “Can you promise me that if I say or do something that you don’t like, you’ll tell me?” 

Her eyes softened at the question. Her hands grabbed the sides of my face as she pressed a soft peck against my lips.

“Of course, I will. Promise.” 

“I never want to make you uncomfortable,” I mumble against her, “okay?” 

Her soft laugh against my lips before pressing a few sweet kisses into me, I swear this girl could get me to fold so easily. 

“You really are something, Jacob.” 

My stomach flips as the sentence leaves her lips. My heartbeat felt stronger than before, and my mouth basically ran dry; what is she doing to me? The look in her eyes as we stared at each other in the subtle glow of the light, even after the past few days, I’d be lying if I said she didn’t still make me nervous. Every kiss makes it feel like there are fireworks in my chest and a ton of excited butterflies in my stomach; my entire body gets warm, and I have to fight the slight tremor in my hands, so she doesn’t know. But god, this girl has me stumbling over myself every day.

“What if we just stay in here for the rest of the night?” I whisper into her.

Her hands slid down onto my stomach, “I think they might notice we’ve disappeared.” 

“Unfortunate, innit?” the English accent sneaking out of me, making her laugh. If that’s all it takes, I’ll use it more. “Why don’t you go back out there first? I’ll go to the backroom first, so it’s more convincing.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Captain,” she winks as she pats my stomach and then quickly sneaks out the door. Leaving me there, speechless, staring at the door for a moment. I think I just tripped.

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I hid in the backroom for a few minutes, bringing out a handful of things to restock with. I try to wipe the smile off my face when I can feel her eyes on me. I have Mel run to the tables and get some drink orders taken care of; she’s been trapped behind the bar all night, at least get her a few minutes of a new scenery. 

It feels nice to make drinks mindlessly for customers sometimes. The muscle memory starts to kick in, and I can just go for a while. It’s just a bonus having Charlotte sitting at the end of the bar, intently watching every move I make.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching Melody?” I tease, sliding a drink to her. 

Her hands rake through her curls, softly laughing as she says, “Well, she isn’t making drinks right now, is she?” 

“So you’re making sure I know what I’m doing then?”

“Something like that,” she says, biting her lip subtly. The goosebumps erupt on my arms instantly when she does that. 

Folding my arms across my chest, I look at her to ask, “Anything notable?” 

She slides her paper out for a second, quickly tucking it away so I can’t see what she’s written down. Sneaky little thing.

“You seem good.. with your hands,” she tilts her head slightly, slowly blinking at me. I can’t stop myself from smirking at the comment. I had noticed before that she watched my hands, but nothing was more validating than that comment. 

I step closer to the bar, leaning towards her a little so I can whisper, “Guess you’ll have to find out.” I watch her jaw slack at my comment, chuckling to myself. Seeing her flustered makes me feel less insane for being so antsy all night. The way she shifts in her seat as I look at her, I don’t think someone has ever reacted to my stare like this before. 

We spend the rest of Mel’s shift making unbearably tense eye contact, which makes me want to get her alone even more. She stayed for a little longer after Melody left, but I practically begged her to get home before it was too late. Something about the thought of her trying to drive in the Old Port when all the late-night bargoers are out just makes me nervous. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After what has seemingly become our nightly routine of walking her to her car, with the new bonus of getting to kiss her before she leaves, I’m met with an empty apartment. 

She won’t be home for a little bit. I pull open the fridge staring mindlessly, realizing that I’m not even really hungry. Taking the opportunity since Josh isn’t home, I wander into the bathroom, starting the shower. 

I stood under the hot water, letting it beat against me for a moment. My brain runs rampant with thoughts of her, still unable to process that she’s giving me any time, let alone wanting to spend more time with me. 

My eyes close as I think of the way she touches me; her hands are so delicate, and she’s so careful. Her hands always find a spot on my chest or stomach when she kisses me. Grabbing fistfuls of my shirt when we make out. Her lips though— those are something to write home about. God, I really was touch starved. 

My heart flutters at the thought of her kiss and how good it felt with her. Even when she was just leaving tiny pecks down my neck, I swear I could get goosebumps just from the memory. It had been so long since I even had the option I forgot how exciting it was. 

The thought of her sitting on my lap, her hands tangled into my hair, god. I feel the twitch, trying to ignore it. No, don’t be weird, Jake. Just think about something else. Rinsing the shampoo out of my hair and trying to refocus, but all I can hear in my head is, “all for me, baby?” A small groan comes from me, and I can’t stop myself from sliding my cock through my fist to relieve some of the tension. 

Her lips wrapped around me, the way she seemed like she was enjoying it, and her little moans as she slid me as deep into her mouth as she could. 

“Fuck,” I mutter, stroking myself a little faster. The visual of her on her knees for me has me reaching out to hold myself up. How is she real?

My hips jerked forward as I heard her voice in my head saying, “Come on, Captain.” 

Another moan sneaks out, my eyes fixed shut at this point, wishing she were here. God, she was so good. The way she swirled her tongue around me, her hair wrapped around my fist. Her green eyes look up at me as she takes just about all of me into her mouth, holy shit, I’m–.

“Fuck me, Charlotte,” I quietly groan as my orgasm washes over me. The water is hardly even warm at this point, while I frantically clean myself off to avoid a cold shower— that’s five minutes too late. 

Tapping my phone as I’m drying myself off. One Missed Call. Unlocking it instantly, seeing her name sitting there, I call her back with no hesitation. Is she okay? She hasn’t called me until she’s home before. 

“Hiii,” her soft voice dances around in my ear. 

“Hey, are you okay?” I spit out, knowing I probably sound insane. 

“Oh! Yes, everything’s fine! I'm just still driving,” she replies; a sigh of relief escapes me, grateful that she’s okay. Until all my nerves come flooding back when she says, “I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Fourteen

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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[obetrolncocktails]

Karma Sutra | Masterlist

This is where all parts of Karma Sutra will live. Enjoy!

Listen while you read! Karma Sutra Playlist

Karma Sutra

Part 1 | 2.3K

Part 2 | 4.4K

Part 3 | coming soon!

Updated 7/16/24

[gretavangroove]

SPECIAL SPOTIFY WRAPPED MESSAGE HELLO???

[blacksmokebarbarians]

Master of Keys

warnings: 18+ (minors DNI!!!) basically porn with plot-- degradation, dacryphilia, gagging, heavy spit kink, rough intercourse, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), pinning, marking, cunnilingus, male receiving oral, hard dom!sammy.

word count: 2k

synopsis: when configuring a song on the piano, things take a turn as your boyfriend Sam attempts to show you how it's done.

a/n: hey all! this was a request i recently got, and have really enjoyed writing! I hope you all enjoy!

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

Fingers danced among the keys, shifting from chord to chord in gentle movements, but somehow, you couldn't quite figure out what didn't sound right. As you sat on the white bench, your fingers glided across the ivories, attempting to find a tune that sounded just right in contrast to the previous chords you had played.

Letting out a sigh of deep frustration, you tried again and again, until a familiar voice peaked from the doorway. "Having some trouble there, doll?" Sammy asked, walking over to the edge of the piano. He leaned against it, watching as you played the tune once again, the sour note causing him to crinkle his nose. "I just can't figure it out.. I don't know where to go after that." You explained, exhausted from the various previous attempts. Sam nodded gently, standing up straighter. "Let's see.." He hummed, making his way to your side of the claviature.

The male watched as you played the tune over again, causing him to shake his head. "That's the problem, pretty girl.." He said gently, resting his hands over yours. "Instead of going to the G, you should move to a C.." He instructed, his hands guiding yours across the keys. Surreptitiously as you played, Sam grew closer, his chest pressing against your back gently as you continued to replay the melody. His hands slowly shifted from your hands down to your waist, his chin nuzzling against the crook of your neck comfortably. He hummed along to the song as you played, his fingers slowly tracing the waistline of your leggings.

Goosebumps pricked your skin as his chin turned, his lips coming in contact with your neck. "Sammy.. I've got to work on this song.." You insisted. Though you could feel a warmth growing in your core, finishing off the song was important to you. He shook his head, pulling away from his plump kisses to speak. "You don't truly want to stop..," His hands traveled past your waist, his fingers slowly brushing against your heat. "Already wet..? I've barely touched you.." He let out a soft laugh. Shivers were sent down your spine as your hips slowly rolled forward against his palm. He shook his head gently, his hands slipped up to keep your hips readily in place.

A desperate whine slipped past your lips. "Sammy, please don't tease me like this.." He shook his head and grabbed your chin. "That's not how you address me, and you know that damn well." He veered, his deep brown eyes staring back into yours.

"Y-Yes, sir.." A gasp left your mouth as you looked up to him, a hand gripping the bench. Slowly, Sam's thumb pushed past your lips, allowing you to take it in. "Good girl.." He murmured, watching as you swirled your tongue around his digit. "Let's see how long that lasts." He mentioned, a cunning smirk wiping across his face. He reached behind you, pushing the cover of the piano down onto the keys. His other hand had remained gently cupped beneath your jaw as he pushed his thumb further back into your mouth. He bit his lip, watching as drool slipped down your chin. "You're such a slut.. doing everything I say.."

Slipping his thumb from your lips, he drew you in for a deep kiss. His lips parted lightly, his tongue meeting with yours, his hand sliding from your chin to your neck while his other pushed you up against the piano's front. A faint whimper met his lips from yours as you felt the wood meet with your back. His hand pushed it's way up your hip, slipping beneath your shirt, coming in contact with the heat of your stomach. Leisurely, his lips left yours as your eyes met once more.

Suddenly, however, an unfamiliar semblance became visible in his chocolate iris'. You couldn't quite get a word out other than a small "Hm..?" as you studied him, attempting to unlock the strange secrets that he withheld in his mind. His palm snuck under your chin for a second time, before he finally gave you a glimpse into his head.

"Open."

Your brows furrowed curiously as you looked up at him. Unsure of what he meant, you just stared. His hand advanced to the nape of your neck, taking a hand full of hair, pulling your head back. "I said open." His voice was stern and harsh. Finally understanding, you parted your lips for him, allowing your jaw to widen. Without hesitation, he spat into your gaping mouth, his hand finally coming back to prompt your lips shut. "Swallow." He instructed.

Looking into his looming eyes, you did as he said, swallowing the warm liquid. His gaze didn't falter as he admired you. Suddenly, he pulled you down from the bench, beaming over you. "On your knees." He demanded, keeping eye contact as you knelt before him. The stiffened tent in his pants met your eyes as he took one of your hands, stroking himself with your small palm. The heat of his stiffened length radiated from his trousers into your hand as you looked up to him through hazed lashes. "Sam-- Sir.. I need you.." You begged, looking up to him in desperation. "Well, if you want to be such a needy slut, you're going to show me how badly you really want it." He elucidated.

As he undid his belt, you could feel your panties soaking through the fabric of your leggings. You needed him.. He knew exactly how to work you up, and it infuriated you. Once his belt had fell to the wooden floor, he slipped his pants off. Knowing what to do, you reached up, pulling the fabric of his briefs down, causing his length to spring out just in front of you. A bead of precum settled at his tip as you slowly pushed your hand down his shaft-- a soft groan lulling past his lips.

You knew too well that he would become relentless the second you started, so you stalled, peering up to him as your hand thrusted against him. "If you're going to whine like a slut, you need to show me how desperate you really are." He glared, taking his bottom lip beneath his teeth as his hips pushed forward against your hand. You nodded gently, swirling your tongue around his pink tip. The subtle taste of his substance came in contact.

You eased yourself down onto his length, looking up to him with bashful eyes. He knew better, pushing his hips forward in hopes for more. Sam took a fist full of your hair, guiding you against his cock as he let out another raspy moan. "Fuck-- come on, whore.. You can do better than that.." He grimaced, his length begging for more movement. He began to push your mouth down onto him, his length reaching the back of your throat. Tears pricked your eyes as a minuscule gag pushed past your lips. Picking up the pace, your movements became more fluid, your head bobbing against him. Low groans rumbled from deep within his chest as he began to use your mouth. He fucked himself further and further into you until your nose reached the base of his length.

"Just like-- shit..-- Just like that.." He moaned, throwing his head back. With each thrust, more tears began to fall from your heavy lids, taking him as deep as you could. Watching his shoulders rise and fall with each moan, you watched as he edged closer, drool falling past your lips.

"Ahh-- Fuck!" He writhed, forcing you down against his cock as his warm seed filled your throat.

Pulling away as he finished off, he glanced down to you, snickering at the sight. "Look at what a mess you've made.." He purred, wiping your tear-stained cheeks. "Get on the bench." He commanded, already working to slip your shirt off. As you sat upon the wood, his fingers met between your thighs again, pushing against your core from outside of your clothing. Your hips grinded against his palm while his other hand made it's way to your breast, squeezing it lightly. A whimper fell past your lips as you leaned back against the piano, his lips meeting with your skin once more. "P-Please.. I.."

"You what? Are you getting all worked up?" He teased, getting down in front of the bench. In one swift motion, he pulled your leggings down, slipping them off past your ankles. His lips met with your thighs, slowly trailing kisses up to the lace that traced your begging heat. Without another word, he slipped the last of your clothing off, his lips coming in contact with your throbbing clit.

"Fuck! Please, sir.. m-more.." You droned, your fingers tangling in his hair. His tongue whirled against your vulva, his fingers teasing your slit diligently. You reeled with pleasure, moans and whines escaping your mouth as you gripped the bench. Sam shifted downward, his tongue meeting with your slit as the bridge of his nose pressed against your pulsating bud. Your knuckles became white as you gripped the seat, your head falling back against the piano's edge.

Just as you were growing towards a substantial climax, your master pulled away, leaving you a whining, trembling mess. "P-Please!" You begged, squeezing your legs together. "I was so close.." You staggered, your distressed eyes meeting with his once more. "Please, Sir, I need you.. I can't take it anymore.." Your adjured with ragged breaths.

Sam spat into his palm, slicking himself with his saliva before taking hold of your hips. "If you want it that badly.." He shrugged before pushing himself deeply into you, filling you with his warm length. The sudden pressure caused a sharp cry to leave your lips, grasping onto his arms shakily. "Oh my god.."

His lips met with yours once more, your desperate hums vibrating against his lips with each coarse thrust. One of his hands groped your breast while your grasp on his forearms didn't loosen during his relentless pounding. Your face hid in the crook of his neck as he gripped your hips with an aching hold-- it would surely bruise by the morning.

"That's it, come for me.. Come for me like the slut you are.." He graveled, a low moan bellowing from him as he sharply pushed into you. "Who do you belong to?" He questioned.

Too stunned to speak, all you could let out was a shaky moan. He took you by your throat, forcing you to look up to him. "Who?" He ordered.

"Y-You! I'm all yours.." You sobbed, your legs beginning to shake with each new thrust.

"That's it, doll.. That's it.." He praised, his hand slipping down to circle around your clit. "Come for me, doll. Let me hear you.." His voice trailed, your hands making their way to hook around his neck. With the next coming thrusts, you were sent into a quivering orgasm, your moans bouncing off of the walls as his thrusts came to a slow. Feeling the liquid fill inside you, he rested his head against your shoulder weakly. Breathlessly, You could feel him twitch deep inside you.

Sam slowly pulled out, his hand coming up to caress your cheek as he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, his lips melting against yours as he finally caught his breath. He withdrew from the kiss, peppering soft kisses against your shoulders. "Fuck.." A soft laugh left his lips as he admired you through half-lidded eyes.

As you simmered down and relaxed, your fingers ran through his soft hair, slow pants escaping from your lungs. "Let's run you a bath.." He concluded, kissing your forehead gently.

Once you were finally dressed, Sam curled beneath the covers with you, pulling you close. "I love you, sweets.." He assured, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"I love you more, Sammy.." You endeared, admiring him. Your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, unable to take your eyes from him. He gave you a soft, kind smile, his hands wrapping around your waist gracefully, pulling you close to him.

[devilat-thedoor]

Wildflowers and Wine

A/N: i was yearning for soft!Sammy. i just really needed this, so it’s completely self indulgent. but maybe you guys will enjoy it too? So, here’s a fluffy lil Sam drabble💖

🌲🌲🌲

A weekend getaway was exactly what you needed to escape the stresses that life had been throwing at you. When Sam surprised you with a trip to a cabin deep in the woods, you were more than excited to have the alone time with him. You spent the night packing everything up and left first thing in the morning, “You’re gonna love it up in the Smokies, babe.” He lifted his hand from the wheel to grab yours in your lap, “There’s a really nice waterfall off of this one trail… It’ll be too cold to swim, but it’ll still be cool to see.”

Leaning over the center console, you placed a tiny peck on his jaw, “Thank you, Sammy. I really needed this.” His smile grew as he squeezed your hand. You reached over to turn the music up a bit and settled back into your seat, eventually falling asleep.

“Hey…We’re here, babe. Wake up.” His voice was a mere whisper as his fingertips brushed over your cheeks. It was almost as though he didn’t actually want to wake you up, but his whispers persisted, “Babe, come on.” He tugged at your arm and your eyes finally opened, blinking a few times, and settled on his face. Sam was standing outside of the passenger door, waiting for you to step out.

Once you exited the car, you got a full view of the cabin, “Oh. This is beautiful.” You spun in a circle, taking in the looming mix of trees. Maples and Pines. Oaks and Hickorys. You wanted to run straight into the woods to explore and he could sense it.

He grasped your waist, pulling you against him, “Let’s get you changed first, then we can go on a hike.” He had your hand, guiding you up the few steps to the front door.

You stopped, looking back to the car, “We have to unload the car, hun.” You tugged on him, but he kept walking, dragging you with him.

“I already carried everything in while you slept, c’mon.” He opened the door and allowed you to step inside. It was rustic and cozy, a small living space with the kitchen attached. Sam came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin on your head, “I can’t wait to get you in front of the firplace tonight, babe.” He kissed the top of your head before releasing you and pointing to the short hallway with two doors, “Bedroom is left, bathroom is right. Go put some jeans on and grab a sweatshirt. I’m gonna put a pack together to for our hike.”

Wandering into the bedroom, you found the bags laid neatly on the bed and smiled to yourself as you dug through yours to find a pair of jeans. After lacing your sneakers up, you emerged from the bedroom, hoodie in your hand, and met Sam in the kitchen, “Ready, baby?”

He was tucking a few water bottles into the backpack and stalking over to you as he zipped it up, “Yep. Let’s go, pretty girl.” He grabbed your hand, twirling you under his arm twice, and pulled you out the front door, closing it behind him.

🌲🌲🌲

“Sammy, what is this?” You leaned down, examining the peachy-orange flower clusters, surrounded by long, thick leaves.

He sidled up to the shrub, plucking one of the flowers, “Rhododendron.” He turned you to face him, pushing your hair aside to slip the flower behind your ear, “They call these ones Flame Azaleas. They can range in color from white to yellow, even red… But the orange ones are my favorite.”

“They’re so pretty.” You picked your own bloom, carefully placing it in the breast pocket of his flannel.

“Come on, babe. The sun is starting to set, we should get back.” He was smiling wide as he turned around to walk back up the trail.

You fell into step behind him until something caught your eye, “Baby, wait!” You took off through the trees, “What is that?” You were ducking through leaves and branches, pushing through a dense thicket, as he chased after you.

“Y/N, slow down!” He finally caught up, breathing heavy as he began to scold you, “Babe, there’s bears and shit, you can’t just- Woah…” You’re sure his face had to of matched the incredulous expression of your own.

You stood in a clearing, staring out over a varying array of colorful wildflowers and tall, flowing grass, “Sammy, this is- Look at the sunset!” You pointed out to the horizon, forcing his attention to the dipping, golden sun as it cast an orange hue over the earth before you, “Baby, did you bring your camera? You have to get pictures of these.” You sunk to your knees into the grass, running your fingers over the various flower petals.

When you turned to look at up at Sam, his eyes were already on you, the brown of them turning to a fiery amber in the sunlight, “I left it at the cabin, we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” His lips lifted into a warm smile as he held his hand out to pull you from the ground, “Let’s head back before it gets dark.” He weaved his fingers with yours and led you back to the trail.

🌲🌲🌲

The walk back to the back the cabin was short and dusk was falling fast. As you walked through the front door, Sam broke away from you and rushed to the bedroom. You didn’t question it, just slipped out of your shoes and pulled your hoodie off to hang on a hook. Padding into the small kitchen, you opened the cabinets one by one until you found the cups before calling out to him, “Baby, do you want some wine? I’m gonna start dinner.” He called back a “sure, babe.” and you filled two mugs with the red. You sipped yours with a soft hum and began chopping veggies on the large cutting block.

Sam appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wearing a sweater and carrying a flashlight, “I’m gonna grab some firewood outside. I’ll be back, okay?” He pulled you against him, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

You pulled back with a smile, “Hurry up, dinner won’t be long and I already poured your wine, hun.”

“I’ll be quick, promise.” He pecked your lips one more time and slipped away.

Your attention went back to the pot in front of you as you stirred the vegetable soup, bringing the spoon up to your mouth to taste it. Going to bedroom to retrieve your phone, you came back into the kitchen, clicking a random playlist on, and finished up the food. Song after song played, but it wasn’t until the soup was finished that you realized Sam wasn’t back yet. You cut the flame on the stove off and went to grab your hoodie to go find him but he was coming in the door before you stepped out of the kitchen, “Sammy, I was starting to get worried! What took so long?”

He was holding his hands behind his back with a beaming grin on his face, “I had a little side quest…” He pulled his hands around revealing what he was hiding.

“Oh my god, baby…” Your mouth hung open as you stared at the makeshift bouquet. A bundle of the all the diverse wildflowers you’d seen in the field on your hike, tied together at the stems with a few long pieces of the grass that surrounded them. He had to of gotten at least two of every species of flower there was, “Sammy, you went back in the dark and got these for me?” You took the bouquet from his hands and held it to your nose.

“Of course I did. I saw the way your face lit up when you saw them and knew I had to get them.” He watched you turn around and walk back to the kitchen, “Pretty flowers for the prettiest girl.”

“Thank you, honey, I love them.” You laid them across the countertop and went to the sink to fill a cup with water. When you turned back to him, He was standing in the middle of the room, drinking his wine, eyes locked on you, “Why are you looking at me like that?” You couldn’t hide the shy smile that ghosted over your mouth.

Sam set his cup down and stepped towards you, snaking his arms around your waist, “I love you…” He swayed you through the kitchen, holding you close while the music flowed from your phone, “I’ll pick all the flowers in the world if it means your eyes will light up like that.” He brushed the stray hairs from your forehead and began peppering your face with soft kisses.

You giggled through his attack, trying to shield your face, until he stopped and caught your lips with his, “I love you too, Sammy.” You wrapped your arms around his torso and held him tight as you laid your head on his chest, “I don’t need all the flowers… You make my eyes and my heart light up without even trying.”

He rested his cheek on the top of your head, humming along to whatever song played while he rocked you back and forth, “I’m still gonna pick you all those flowers tomorrow…”

[anthemofgvf]

Groupie Love: Jake Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

"you're in the bar, playing guitar, i'm trying not to let the crowd next to me. it's so hard sometimes with a star, when you have to share him with everybody." description: being jake’s groupie was heaven on earth, yet sinful in every desirable way. while the world reveled in his public, entrancing persona, you reveled in the boundaries of reality and fantasy intertwining in secrecy.

word count: 6.9k+

trope: groupie! reader x jake

taglist for future fics

warnings after cut…

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

warnings: good amount of plot, mentions of drinking, alcohol, smut (18+ minors dni), swearing, unprotected sex, hardcore dom! jake, choking, spitting, praise/begging/degrading kink, rough sex, spanking, fingering, oral (male and fem! receiving), bit of fluff, some aftercare

disclaimer: this does not follow the real events of the starcatcher tour for the sake of the plot. thanks!

a/n: would also like to mention that yes, this IS based off of the Lana Del Rey song with the same title. As soon as I heard it, I immediately thought of Jake and writing a fic based off of it. If you haven't listened to the song, now is the perfect time to do so! hope you all enjoy :) <3

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

There was something so addictive about secrecy. To share such vulnerability with someone where no one's eyes could witness, but only you and another alone. To know each other by touch alone if every sense was stripped away, yet hiding the true reason why you could pick them apart in a crowd from that feeling. And while you two were friends with one another publicly, behind closed doors, you were both fucking like animals. There was no better way to describe your relationship with Jake. You were just one of his secrets, hidden in a closet, and you had accepted that.

You had met him after one of Greta Van Fleet's shows when their careers were just about to skyrocket and thank God you were able to catch him then. You hadn't really listened to their music before or even heard of them, but local concerts under 30 bucks as a fun night out with friends was always on the table. If it weren't for their small fanbase and lack of fame, you were positive you wouldn't have become Jake's personal groupie.

After hooking up with him in the venue's bathroom, twice, Jake simply couldn't have enough of you. And you, you were entranced by him and his sexual drive. You both also enjoyed each other's company in the short period of time you knew one another, so, you and he exchanged numbers and kept in contact. Whenever he was in town, you'd be next to him, and when he was gone, you were with someone else. More often than not, you two were spending time with one another purely for sex, but it was rare for you to leave immediately after. After all, Jake cared about you regardless of the label of your relationship with him, and you were enjoyable to be around.

There was no discussion of monogamy, so it was mutually decided that seeing other people was no issue. Sure, no one compared to the guitarist, but there was always someone to run down your time in the day when boredom struck, and you were unable to be at Jake's beckoning call. Even though Jake would always call you his, it was words that withheld no meaning. Only in moments where you and Jake were together alone did they obtain meaning, but you knew never to take him seriously.

Jealousy is a bitch, though, and it possessed you. It rotted you to your unchaste core. You could easily pretend it didn't bother you that other girls have had Jake the way you have or have even looked at him in that manner. Of course, you'd be lying to yourself if you said there wasn't a single sliver of selfishness towards him. How many girls Jake had been with next to you was a mysterious number, but you didn't choose to spend your time thinking about how many girls he's said the same things to as you. But, rather, feel empowered that there were fans in their crowds at shows that desperately wanted your place. Fans that screamed his name, made signs and t-shirts for him, dreamed of being more than just a fan in the crowd. That was something you had over them. That's what made you special. That's what gave you your title of a so-called 'groupie'.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

They had closed their most recent tour with a show in Nashville, and of course you were in attendance. Jake had even asked if you'd be there, knowing well enough that there was no way in hell you'd be skipping out on it, because you knew where the night would take you. Besides, you hadn't seen him in months. You hadn't been with him in months. You had grown a sense of longing for him after a short period of time away from the guitarist.

Before Greta Van Fleet had a larger fanbase, you were able to sit in the seats and get escorted backstage to Jake so you could watch as a fan. But, due to suspicious speculation amongst fans, and you and Jake wanting to continue the secrecy and keep the reputation of "just friends," you were granted a backstage pass and allowed to come into the arena or venue they'd be performing at before fans would arrive. Every place was different, so the execution of reaching him was always tweaked, but no matter what, you and him both knew you'd see one another after the show. You preferred to hang in the sound booth rather than backstage, anyways.

Rarely did you come early to be in attendance for soundcheck. Sure, there would be absolutely nothing wrong with it, but you always enjoyed watching him look for you amongst the fans, and his eyes light up in the slightest that had your heart stopping only for a second at the sign of recognition, feeling as though your breath had been taken from you and forcing your body to freeze. It never got old feeling his eyes latch onto you.

And you never got tired of watching him perform on stage. Now, with the new introduction of 'Mirador,' you got to watch him nearly twice as long. And, God, you never knew he could sing that well. That certainly was a turn on for you. Now your mind was wandering off to the thought of him singing in your ear.

You rarely tore your eyes from him while he was on stage, and he knew that he was hypnotic. He liked knowing that there were people who only cared to watch him and come to Greta Van Fleet's shows to be in his presence. Thrusting into his guitar as he spoke to himself and the crowd, hairs sticking to his cheeks with the accumulated sweat and still breathlessly giving his performance his all. You kept your eyes locked on his stomach and watched as the sweat beads dripped down his tender skin, and his hair whipping around and throwing his head back as he skillfully played on his instrument, exposing his Adam's apple to the fans that kept their eyes glued on his every move while he struck the next few chords of the song. You'd always convince yourself while swinging to the music that he was performing more theatrically for you, but you'd never been proven right nor wrong yet. He was entrancing to watch, and sometimes you found it unfathomable that you were a person in his life. A person who knew things that most didn't, a person who saw things most people didn't.

Your adrenaline always arose as soon as the four boys left the stage, and the lights illuminated the venue. Hearing different conversations from a multitude of fans that surrounded you, shuffling of feet and complaints of exhaustion. But there you were, hanging out in the sound booth waiting for security to come to your aid to escort you to backstage.

You wore a silver halter top that accentuated your chest, with a pair of velvet-blue flared leggings and converse. Thankfully, your shoes weren't shown due to the coverage of your pants, and it truly did not matter what clothes were on your body. They would be thrown on some floor in less than an hour, and that's all you cared about.

Eventually two men from Greta Van Fleet's team made their way to you once the venue was near empty from fans and began leading you backstage to the green room. You always loved that feeling in the pit of your stomach; it excitingly tumbled and twisted with each step closer you were to him. The awkward silence never faltered while the security guards guided you to backstage, but that gave you enough time to collect yourself before seeing Jake.

Your eyes were first met with Sam cracking open a beer, chatting with his girlfriend and keeping to themselves. When they saw you, they smiled without a word, and allowed you to keep moving. While you and Jake became "friends" the more you two saw each other, you had been brought around the band from time to time. More likely than not, it was for some sort of party, large gathering, or simply catching the boys after the show - uncommonly anything intimate. They knew what your purpose was, but they never questioned you. Either they simply didn't care, or they didn't want to ask questions they did not want answers to.

Danny was nowhere to be found, most likely in his dressing room, but the twins were walking into the green room, laughter erupting from Josh as he cracked his large, infamous smile that put his perfect teeth on display. His presence always soothed you when eyes seemed to be peering down your neck from your presence. Both were still in their stage attire, which was usual when you'd come so soon after the show had ended.

Josh had noticed you first, closing his mouth to a smirk that raised with the right corner of lips and pierced his cheek to reveal his dimple. Once Jake laid his eyes upon you, they were already following down your body, finally greeting you with a crack of a smile that told you his mind was already somewhere else.

"Y/n! It's so good to see you again," Josh greeted you with a tight hug, "nice seeing your face after so long." He patted your back and pulled away with a grin still plastered on his face.

"It has been long enough," you huffed a laugh. "Tour was good?" You flicked your eyes to Jake.

He gave you a slow, steady nod. "Was great. I'm sure you'd love to hear all about it, huh?"

"I wouldn't want anything else." You huffed a laugh, sticking your tongue in your cheek at his light sarcasm.

"I expect you'll be sticking around to celebrate the end of Starcatcher with us?" Josh said as he began to walk away. You followed his movements with your eyes as he walked over to a small fridge, turning to Jake who gave you a blank stare. Josh wasn't hinting at your intentions with Jake, but rather what would occur after-the-fact. He shrugged at you suggestively, but you couldn't depict what his choice was.

You chose to be safe. "We'll see, Josh," you directed your attention to him for a moment, "if I don't, I'll be sure to say goodbye to you before I head home."

He sauntered over to you with a beer in hand and patted your back with a soft smile. "Always a pleasure, y/n."

Leaving you and his twin alone, Jake ran his hand to your side and found the small of your back, pressing light enough to signal movement forward and follow him to his dressing room. You dared to look at him, to examine the light sheen of sweat that resided on his forehead that he forgot to wipe away once he exited the stage. And you knew he could feel your eyes lingering upon him, but he liked to be looked at. He liked the attention.

His dressing room door was already open, welcoming your entrance and waiting for your arrival. You eagerly stepped into the neatly decorated room and scanned the area for familiar artifacts of his scattered about: sunglasses, bracelets, necklaces, and his attire to be thrown on after his stage wear was stripped from his body.

He turned his back to you quickly and closed the door, locking it swiftly behind him. And once he turned around, he was wearing a softly cracked smile. It was always so intimidatingly perfect, how his eyes rested into a look that only told you that he was going to devour you.

"Barely said a word to me since I've arrived," you said innocently with your hands behind your back, "what's with the shyness, Jake?" You began to slip off your shoes as his eyes faltered from your own to do the same.

He took slow steps towards you to increase the intensity of your heartbeat in anticipation. He knew you craved the taste of his lips, the feeling of his hands on your figure. He always remembered what made your heart bang against your chest and your face flush into a pink hue.

His index finger cradled your jaw as he focused your eyes on him intently. "Was it so wrong of me to want a more private 'welcome home' from you?" His voice was coarse with the words slipping off his tongue smoothly like butter. Close to a whisper - the tone of intimacy.

You flicked your eyes to his coy smirk, then back to his dark brown eyes that peered at you so attentively. He was always so patient in these moments for an answer back.

"All this is, is private. Doesn't mean I don't enjoy the gesture, though." You wrapped your arms around his neck after motioning your pointer finger back and forth between the two of you, and in return, he pulled you into his chest and squeezed you against his body tightly.

And there he was, breathing softly down the side of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, and feeling the figure and warmth of your body in an embrace. You buried your face into the crook of his neck that you made room for with your arm to feel the skin that rested there to remember how it feels to be so close to Jake once again.

"You're a good singer, Jake," you said lowly into his ear, "better than I had expected."

You felt him chuckle against you, but his laughter came out in small breaths. He was amused by your playful banter and humbling words that he knew were harmless.

He unwrapped himself from you but kept the close proximity between the both of you. His tongue darted out and ran across the middle of his bottom lip, cracking a coy grin as he looked down at you with half-hooded eyes. He was effortlessly seductive.

"You're lucky I like you, y/n." His hand raised to the side of your face as he slowly began to caress it, watching the motions of his fingers as they began from your temple and journeyed to your jaw. "Because if I hadn't known better, I'd think you were disrespecting me." He gave you a playful, lazy glare.

You gave him a small smile, allowing your fingers to focus on toying with the silver jewelry that hung dangerously low on his exposed skin.

"Well, you and I both know that you love to play that game." You said softly to yourself. Loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to showcase your lack of desire for a response.

You took the opportunity to run your hands onto his chest, letting them reach to the waistband of his trousers, and looking to him innocently with a smile. And he smiled back at you softly, waiting patiently for you to be finished reveling in his presence and this moment.

You placed your hands onto his neck, thumbing at the skin and looking at him for direction, for initiation. So, he cupped your jaw and placed a gentle, longing kiss onto your lips. You practically melted into his mouth and encouraged his tongue to begin roaming around the inside of your mouth as you began to dance your own in his. The kiss grew deeper quickly, and you both remembered the addictive taste of each other. The swift routine of throwing each other clothes began, where you're tugging down Jake's pants to leave him in his boxers, and he's tossing off his cropped, black jacket to land onto the ground.

Your hands traveled into his damp hair and tugged him deeper into your lips as his fingers played at the waistband of your leggings. The muscles at your stomach began to tense up at the sensation of the pads of his fingers toying at the idea of diving down into your underwear and satisfying you.

His mouth pulled from yours for a moment to throw off your top, which you assisted him in doing, and allowed it to fall wherever it landed. As soon as he got the sight of your bare breasts, he encapsulated his mouth onto yours, and massaged one in his hand, while the other hand held its place at your waist.

You snaked your hands in between your glued bodies and cupped his hard cock with a light squeeze, eliciting a deep, rumbling groan from his throat and into your mouth.

"God, how I've missed you." He said into your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip. His lips began to travel to your neck, pressing rough, sloppy kisses onto the skin. You contemplated telling him how much you missed him, but you knew that he knew you did - you were like putty under his touch.

Your head titled back to allow Jake more access to your neck. One of his hands ditched your body and tugged at your hair to gain dominance, keeping your neck bent back as far as possible so he could taste your skin. His other hand traveled to the small of your back to keep you on your feet, and you swore you would've fallen to your knees if it weren't for Jake holding you up. With your eyes shut, you tuned into the feeling of his wet tongue trailing its way up your neck and to your jaw, then suckling down to your collarbone. His mouth always felt like a beautiful curse against your skin, while compelling, still so unbelievably relieving.

Your hands stuck onto his hair, tugging and pulling as his lips trapped your right nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled circles around it, with his index and thumb massaging the other with the movements. Soft moans escaped your mouth, but you were sure to monitor any sound out of you.

His eyes peered up at you as he removed his mouth from your body and grabbed your face with his hands clasped at your jaw.

"Pants off, now." He instructed lowly, and while you slipped off your underwear with your velvet flares, he was throwing off his boxers and revealing his throbbing cock. You could hardly focus on anything other than him inside of you at this moment, with your head dizzy at the thought of his length filling you up to the hilt.

He never got sick of the sight of you naked, running his hands down your waist and to your hips while a deep sigh escaped his mouth. You watched his eyes focus in on your clit, with his thumb dancing around the area and causing your knees to grow weaker and weaker. Your hips bucked forward, and your motion only caused a light snicker to come from his mouth.

"Get on your fucking knees." He demanded as he pushed you down by your shoulder, although you were quick to follow his instructions and obey.

His length rested onto your left check, and his hand reached down to lift your chin to look up to him. He loved how submissive you looked before him. The way your eyes lit up to the sight of him bare in front of you, along with his devilish grin that captivated you.

He held your eyes with his own. "Good to know you're still such a good girl for me." That sentence had sent a shiver down your spine, with how intimidatingly dominant Jake was. There was something about his small, cracked smile, and the light squint in his eyes that always had you feeling shy and overexposed. Yet, you were always so comfortable being vulnerable around him.

He tapped at your jaw, which signaled for your mouth to open, and you allowed his thumb to travel onto your tongue, sliding the finger out and dragging your bottom lip down with the motion. You slid your hands over his thighs, kissing the head of his cock and slicing your tongue onto it. He groaned at the sensation and landed his hand on the back of your head in preparation.

And you grabbed his length, wrapping your lips around it and beginning to bob your head up and down at a slow pace. You took all of him for a moment to elicit a harsh groan - a response you craved hearing from Jake and pulled off his cock to purse your lips and spit onto his tip with your hand aiding you in coating him.

You immediately resumed bobbing your head up and down, while your hand at the base of him began working slowly with a twist of your wrist. He deeply sighed, looking down at you to see his cock disappear into your mouth. You were irresistible to him with the way you took him into your mouth so effortlessly.

"Fuck, just like that, y/n." He winced lightly as your tongue swirled around his tip. His mouth was slightly hung open as he admired the view of you below him. Hearing your name had never sounded better coming from someone's mouth.

The unoccupied hand of his landed at the side of your face with his thumb caressing at your cheek. He was being gentler with you than usual, which could only mean he intended to be rougher with you later on. You didn't mind the lack of degrading, though. It was good to soothe into things after being away from him for so long.

His breathing was deep, and the muscles at his stomach were tensed up as you quickened the pace of your mouth and hand. Your other hand massaged his balls lightly, which evoked a deep sigh from him. Hushed slurs drew from his lips as you worked your way up and down him, spit dribbling down your chin. The back of your throat fought against taking his whole length, but as long as he felt good, you could care less about your own pleasure. You loved to feel as though you belonged to him and were the only one making him feel this good.

His head was thrown back, while the hand that tousled with your hair on the back of your head had a harsher grip. It was as if he was innocently guiding you, but really, it was to steady himself as he cautiously bucked his hips into your movements. Jake had his bottom lip tucked behind his teeth, fighting against his own release so quickly.

He grabbed your hair and held it back for you, tugging you off of his cock and raising you up to your knees by the pad of his index finger resting under your chin.

"Think you deserve something in return, huh?" He said as his hands relaxed from their places and found your waist. The rhetorical question had you pressing your thighs tightly together with a whine trapped behind your closed mouth.

He was slow with his hands, letting them fall down to your hips, then scooping you off of the ground whilst you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you over to the long table that sat before a mirror, setting you down and immediately forcing your legs open for him. He was quick to step in between your legs and place a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on your lips as his fingers traveled down your stomach and to your heat.

His right hand rested at the inner of your thigh, his thumb at your pubic bone and mere inches from your clit. He rested his forehead upon yours and listened intently to your unsteady, choked breaths, while he traced his index fingers and middle up and down your pussy agonizingly slow. Your back arched into him with a whine, closing your thighs together cautiously in hopes his fingers would caress you. But instead, he forced your thighs back open, and removed his forehead from yours with enough space to just barely see the entirety of your face.

"Don't. Fucking. Move. Be a good girl for me, yeah?" He glared at you, practically spitting in your face at your small movements in a silent plea to have him touch you. But you nodded vigorously. "If you want me to touch you, you're going to have to beg for it. Don't act like you have forgotten how this works."

The way he was looking at you was sending butterflies into the pit of your stomach, and it was nearly overwhelming to you how lust-filled his eyes were.

You threw your head back, sliding your right hand onto his bicep and sighing heavily with shut eyes. "Jake," you whined out, "please."

"Please what, y/n?" He urged you further. He loved playing this game.

You brought your head back up and looked at him in mere agony, desperately saying, "please touch me."

A devilish smirk twisted onto his lips as he flicked his eyes down to your pussy, leaning down and pursing his lips to allow spit to dribble from his mouth and onto your folds. As soon as the spit hit your pussy, he was gathering it onto middle and ring finger and locking his eyes onto yours. He captivated your attention just to mimic the way your mouth fell open as his fingers eased themselves into your entrance. He even repeated your deep exhales as his fingers curled inside of you and began to pump in and out of your entrance. You couldn't contain your moans and allowed them to fall out of your mouth while Jake admired your breathless state.

His calloused fingers added an extra layer of sensation to what you were feeling. He began kissing at your neck, humming onto the skin and trailing his mouth to your ear.

"Feel good, y/n?" He asked in a pitiful, mocking tone. He knew the answer, yet he wanted to hear you say it. Just another thing he did to control you and what you said.

"Yes, yes Jake." You moaned. "Please, don't stop."

He tugged at your earlobe and said, "so we do remember our manners, hm?" in a teasing tone.

Your hand reached for the back of his head as he continued to suck at your neck and travel down to your jugular. Your other hand was gripped tightly against the edge of the table to keep yourself upright while Jake meticulously drew every sound possible from you by his touch. His tongue flattened against the skin and slid its way up to your jaw. You never realized how deeply you missed Jake until you were finally with him.

You had your eyes shut with furrowed brows as you allowed your head to hang back. Every movement Jake made with his fingers, his mouth, his hand that found its way to your breast and massaged it - you were in euphoria. Only did he make you feel this good, and you made it known with your lack of words and preferred usage of pleasured sounds.

Then your eyes were shooting open and your fingers gripping harder at Jake's hair as you felt his tongue circle at your clit. You looked down at the sight, seeing him kneeled down before you as he devoured at your pussy. He hummed in satisfaction of the taste of you - sweet like honey, and your mouth hung open in an "O" shape, unable to utter a sound. Finally, an exaggerated groan rolled off of your tongue, and your head was able to be thrown back with your head fuzzy in ecstasy.

Your hand that rested at the back of his head landed back onto the table, clenching and unclenching, which Jake was quick to notice. His hand immediately found yours and folded his fingers into your own, giving you something to squeeze onto you. The small note of intimacy made you crack a small smile, but quickly allowing it to fade away as Jake grasped harshly onto your hip to keep you in place and reminding you where your focus should be.

He lapped at your folds as he kept a steady pace in and out of your pussy while your thighs squeezed tightly around his head. He switched between sucking at your clit and allowing his tongue to do all the work. You were grinding your hips to the motions of his tongue, and while normally you were ridiculed by him with a slap at your thigh, he allowed it after being away from one another so long.

You were clenching around his fingers, which elicited a pleased hum from him. He could tell you were close to your release, and that's exactly where he wanted you to be before stripping it away from you so suddenly. The tightened knot in the pit of your stomach completely dissolving, not unraveling, always had you whining in annoyance.

He flattened his tongue once more and dragged it up your pussy, then pushed himself up by slapping his hands on the tops of your thighs and levering himself that way.

You encapsulated your mouth onto his by bringing him with your hands harshly slapping against his face. He groaned into your lips with satisfaction, while you wrapped your hand around his length and began stroking it. At some points in moments like these, you felt like you just barely had some sort of dominance over Jake, and he was submitting to the pleasure you were granting him. He found it harder to kiss you back, resting his forehead against your own with eyes squeezed shut. As if anything you had asked him to do, he would without hesitation. And his face even showed how resistless he had become under your touch, contorting and softening with his eyebrows pulled in and mouth parted open.

You kept your eyes open to see the way his face shifted emotions, watching him grow restless with your position of being in charge. He wrapped his hand around your own and stopped your motions, looking down at his cock and focusing on lining himself up with your entrance. You quickly propped one of your legs up onto the table to allow easier access for him and impatiently waited. As spit dribbled down from his pursed lips and onto his cock, with a few more strokes, he was easing himself into you and resting his forehead onto your shoulder.

"Fuck, y/n," he drew out in a long breath as he was fully rested inside of you. He was slow pulling himself out, but quick to slam into you.

He raised his head off of your shoulder and met your eyes, seeing yours with the lids of them resting halfway, mouth opened in an 'O' shape with eyebrows softened. You made it known to him that you were all his - and always will be, but in this moment, you were whatever you needed him to be. Through your lust-filled brain you imprinted the memory of how perfect Jake feels inside of you, how he knows exactly where his fingers need to dance onto your skin, or where his hands should rest. He was wickedly talented at the art of pleasure, and he knew what made your body tick. He was in tune with your body, which he oh-so adored, and wasn't going to go anywhere until he felt satisfied enough.

You had one hand sprawled behind your back onto the table and the other on Jake's shoulder, throwing your head back as he slammed into you and rattled the items that lay astray on the tabletop. If anything were to fall, neither of you paid mind to it. What mattered was the sensations that ran throughout your entire being, your heartbeat increasing with every second, and your body accumulating a sweat that began at your hairline.

His breaths were heavy, daring to look at you while his pace increased. The corner of his lips curled into a malicious smirk, forcing your lips onto his by pushing your head towards him after landing the back of his hand in your damp hair. His other hand was placed beside your thigh to keep him up, but every once and a while, it would travel to the outer of your thigh and squeeze tightly.

Your kiss shared with him was a sloppy mess, with both of you breathing into each other's mouth and unable to contain your moans from sputtering out from your lips. His tongue danced alongst your own, toying with it before resting his back in his mouth and pulling from your lips to kiss your cheek. He reached your ear with his lips, tugging at your earlobe, and allowing you to hear his restless, guttural groans that tore at your core with pleasure.

"You're all mine, you know that?" He groaned to you. "Your pussy is for my pleasure only - no one else's. You understand?" He continued his fast-paced thrusts while borderline whispering these words to you.

You swallowed harshly, breathing out a small, "yes," as you were unable to utter anything else. It was already a battle enough to keep yourself quiet to minimize the noise anyone in the green room could hear, but yet, they all knew why you were with Jake. And frankly, Jake didn't care about the noise. In fact, he encouraged your cries of ecstasy. He demanded it from you.

He wrapped his hand around your neck tightly, forcing you to look at him as he withheld your breath.

"Say you understand, y/n. Say that you understand that no one else can have you but I." He breathed, lessening his tight grip around your neck to allow you to speak for him.

"I understand, Jake," you said as your eyes rolled back from the way Jake was thrusting into you, "I'm all yours."

You didn't have to refocus your eyes on him to know he was smirking - you could just hear his lips curl. Now he was quickly pulling himself out of you, and in a swift motion, lifting you off from the table and barely giving you time to land on your feet before turning you around and bending you over. You were face to face with yourself, seeing how your makeup had run, and your lips were swollen and darker tinted than normal.

But then you saw him, and how he looked from behind you. His eyes landed on your ass, and in a near second, you saw his hand raise and swat against the skin. You jumped with a light whimper trapping itself behind your lips as you bit down on your bottom lip. His eyes met yours, and there he was, giving you the smallest hint of a smile, and forcefully pushing himself all the way inside of you.

One of his hands rested at your hip with a harsh grip, and the other was at your shoulder while he watched the movement of your ass each time it hit against his stomach. He was entranced by the way your body moved, how good it felt to be inside of you, how perfect you looked fully exposed to him.

He whispered something near incoherent, but you were able to pick it up.

"Good, good fucking girl. That's it, baby." He said as he kept his eyes locked on your rear. You watched his lips drop open, his hair moving with his motions and his eyebrows softening and furrowing with each sensation that drove through his body. He grabbed at your ass once more, giving you another swat to make sure he would leave his mark on you as if the bruises caused by his mouth weren't already stained onto your body.

You moaned his name, begging him not to stop as he was hitting the spot you craved to be caressed the most. You dared to reach your fingers down to your clit to reach your orgasm, but as your hand began to make its way there, Jake immediately caught on, and grabbed ahold of your hair and tugged you far back enough to where your back arched away from his chest.

"Greedy now, are we?" His hand from your hair released itself to forcefully grasp your throat with his pointer finger and thumb harshly pressed at your jaw to look towards him. You didn't know what to respond with, other than to rest your hands onto the edge of the table and allowing your knuckles to turn white.

You dared to hold eye contact with him, and he squeezed your cheeks with the intent of forcing your mouth open and spitting onto your tongue. You swallowed the substance without thought, looking at him as you raised one hand to hold onto the side of his face. And the grip he had onto your face wasn't harsh enough, because you felt your head turn forward and lean back with a loud moan as your orgasm grew closer, and the pads of his fingers rubbed vigorous circles onto your clit.

"Greedy little whore." He whispered into your ear, looking at you through the mirror. He watched the way your breasts bounced, how your body twitched, how you were nearly unresponsive with the amount of pleasure you were receiving. You truly were all his.

"Jake, please," you begged quietly. There were more words you wanted to say, but they had fizzled and left your mind, and you could only focus on the way Jake was pumping in and out of you at a quickened pace.

Strands of his hair began to stick to his cheeks, and his silver necklaces that he had on left a cold sting onto your back as they would barely graze the skin. Every single sense in your body had become heightened and intensified, along with your entire body tensing up that had your entire body running hot. All you could do was chase your release, to tune into the intoxicating sensation of Jake delivering as much pleasure to you as possible.

"God, I'm gonna cum." He warned as his thrusts became inconsistent, yet perfectly paced to reach his high. "Gonna cum with me?"

There was only one answer to that question, and he knew that. But hearing you say it helped send him over the edge. It helped him feel more in control of your orgasm. Hell, you were surprised your release hadn't overtaken you yet.

"Yes, Jake, just please, don't stop." You moaned.

And as you felt the tight knot unravel in your stomach, you began to fall forward with your legs trembling, and Jake coming to your aid by bracing his arm across your chest as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“That’s it darling,” he soothed, “there you go.”

His head fell forward as he finished inside of you, draining himself fully and leaving himself with a heaving chest. His arm fell from your chest and landed his hand on top of yours on the edge of the table, with the other hand teasing at your sensitive clit once more just to feel you twitch a final time around him.

After you nearly grabbed his wrist to move it away from the overstimulation, he landed his hand onto your waist, and stayed inside of you for a moment. His eyes found yours in the mirror, and he pressed a soft, long kiss onto your cheek.

"You okay?" He said to you.

"Yes, yes I'm okay," you giggled, "more than okay."

He chuckled at your statement. "Just making sure." He said as he looked at you.

His lips traveled onto your neck with soft, relaxed kisses, reaching to the end of your shoulder and stopping there as he pulled himself from you. You tried to turn around to face him, but as he saw your legs nearly give out, he came to wrap his hands around your waist, and keep you on your feet. If it weren't for the warm liquid dripping down onto the insides of your thighs, you would have forgotten that Jake had finished inside of you.

After seeing that animalistic side of him, you had nearly forgotten how caring he was, and how important it was to him to tend to you after practically using your body. And while one hand stayed at the small at your back, the other raised to your cheek, and his thumb softly swiped against it in a back-and-forth motion.

You two allowed each other to catch your breaths, keeping your eyes locked onto his and smiling at him softly in your hazed state.

"Do you want to stay after for a bit before you head off?" He said to you, finally having his breathing under control.

"Don't want me to stay over for the night, or are you already sick of me?" You said to him with a knowing grin.

He chuckled at your response and placed a soft kiss onto your lips. "Go on and get dressed and we'll head back to mine when you're ready to, alright?"

You nodded at him and began to clean yourself up, which he helped with, then aiding him, and getting dressed to make yourself presentable to walk out of the dressing room and accept the stares from the rest of the band and any of their team members who witnessed the sounds that erupted from Jake's dressing room.

But they all knew why you were there. After all, you were Jake's personal groupie. And you enjoyed the lifestyle. You enjoyed Jake, and he enjoyed you.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

taglist:

@hollyco @songbirds-sweet @ageofhearingloss @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @gold-mines-melting @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @bluee07 @lexii-nv-c @joopsworld @gvfgal @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @threadthatssacred @indigofallingsky @audgeppp @sinarainbows @brujamagik @bowievanfleet @laneygvf @idontlikelizards @josh-iamyour-mama @starshine-wagner @lyndz2names @jaketswine @jjwasneverhere @mulberrimouse @starcatcher-jake @lallisonl @jordie-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf

[builtbybrokenbells]

#19 Danny 😍❤️🌧️

Person A joining person B in the rain.

Pairing: danny x reader

W/c: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff!

sorry i suck so bad at answering my asks 😭 i hope you enjoy lovely!! 🫶🏻 thank you for requesting

Prompt list here

���Do you hear that?” You hummed, a smile lingering on your lips as tiredness danced in your eyes. Limbs were tangled in the sheets to the point where you no longer knew which body part belonged to who. You peeked up at your boyfriend through heavy eyelids, stopping for a moment to admire the breathtaking beauty of his face. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t asleep; his fingers were still tracing light shapes on the bare skin of your thigh that was draped over him.

“Hear what?” He mumbled, so close to slumber yet unwilling to give in. He was enjoying the moment of intimacy far too much to part with it just yet.

“The rain.” You whispered, straining a little harder to hear the pitter-patter of the droplets against the roof.

“Huh,” he cracked one eyelid open, peering towards the window. “Didn’t even notice.” He knew you loved the rain and all that came along with it. The smell in the air, the haze of grey clouds in the sky, the fog that lingered near the ground. You were a fanatic for lazy days, and rain always ensured you could get away with them. There was still a bit of light in the sky, letting you know that the day was nearly over, but you still had time to enjoy it if you wanted.

The gloomy skies were present from the minute you woke, but only teased rain for the rest of the day. You had taken full advantage of the weather, lazing around in Danny’s t-shirt alone in the earliest hours. When noon rolled around, Danny found himself free for the rest of the day, surprising you with his company. He was quick to join you in the relaxation; it started in the living room, sharing kisses and taking turns laying on each other while you ignored the television in the background. Then, you moved on to dinner, cooking while still finding it impossible to keep your hands off of each other. Then, you retired to the bedroom, where you found yourselves in the comfort of your bed as you continued your laziness even further. You were practically atop of him, your leg and your arm strung carelessly across his body while he held you there, ensuring you wouldn’t move away.

You did find your day of rest catching up to you. A sudden restlessness had taken over you as your body begged you for some form of excitement. He could tell you were growing antsy; he knew you better than you knew yourself most days. The life came back to your voice, the lull of sleep no longer calling to you. As much as he would have liked to cater to the need, the energy hadn’t seem to catch up to him the same as it did for you. “Come on,” you said, making a move to get out of bed. His grip on you tightened, a groan of protest sounding from him.

“Where?” He complained, unwilling to let you leave, let alone follow you.

“Surprise.” You said, fighting his hold with a laugh rising in your throat. Both of his eyes were open now, but not fully caught up to speed. He couldn’t help but laugh too, amused by your frantic attempt to free yourself from his arms. He rolled over, pulling you back into him with ease, but not because he was protesting your actions. Now, he was only trying to annoy you. “Let go!” You giggled, face pressed into his chest as he muffled your plea for freedom.

“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” You complained, trying to pry his arm off of you. After a moment, you freed yourself from his hold, but not because you had won the battle of strength. He gave in, knowing that you wouldn’t stop fighting even if your life depended on it. If there was one thing for certain about your relationship, it was that he loved to tease, and you loved to fight back. It was fun, never allowing for a boring moment, and it was incredibly endearing. You missed it terribly when he was gone on tour.

Before he could even think about grabbing you again, you rolled off the mattress and to your feet, a smile of triumph on your lips. He didn’t need to point out that he let you win, because you both already knew. Plus, your elation was too charming for him to diminish. He loved seeing you happy, even if it meant he had to pretend to take a loss. Within an instant, you darted towards the bedroom door, disappearing around the corner and into the hallway. You could hear his slow footsteps following you, nowhere near as enthusiastic about getting out of bed. By the time you were at the patio door in the kitchen, he was only halfway down the hallway. When he heard you slide open the door, he picked up his pace.

“What are you doing?” He laughed, catching up to you before you could make your big break.

“Going outside.” You replied, not bothering to look back at him before you stepped into the rain.

“Y/n, get back in here. You’re going to get sick.” He said, leaning against the open door. It was quite the sight to behold; he was staring at you shirtless in the doorway, and you were dancing around in the rain on your back porch in nothing but his shirt.

“Come out here with me.” You pleaded, holding a hand out to him.

“No!” He laughed, finding the idea ridiculous. “Come back in here with me.”

“Mmm, no.” You shook your head, looking up to the cloudy sky as raindrops trickled down your face. Your smile was blinding, and you were already soaked.

“I’m not letting you back in here like that.”

“Like what?” You asked as if you had no idea what was wrong.

“You’re all… soggy.” He said, trying to place the right word to the description. “Cold and wet… and cold. Did I mention that?” He listed.

“Come here.” You tried again. You were stuck in a standoff. He wasn’t willing to join you, and you weren’t willing to give up. After a few seconds of silence, he let out a sigh of defeat, stepping outside and into the unfavourable weather. You let out sound that radiated pure glee through the air, stepping towards him and wrapping your arms around him.

“You’re crazy.” He said, but his hands were already snaking around your waist and he was looking at you with nothing but love.

“And soggy, apparently.” You laughed, finding his description funny and fully knowing that he didn’t mean a word of what he said.

“Yeah, crazy and soggy.” He agreed.

“But you love it.”

“How could I not?” He muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The ran washed over you as the cool air enveloped you, but you were filled with nothing but warmth and light. No matter the weather, you knew he would always produce that feeling within you. He was a ray of sunshine, carrying the warmth with him wherever he went, and you were incredibly lucky to be able to experience it. “Is this good enough for you? Can we go inside now?” He asked, barely parting from you as he spoke.

“One more kiss.” You challenged, but the request was unimportant because he was already planning on doing it, anyway. You cupped his cheek in your hand as his lips landed on yours once again, savouring every bit of sweetness the moment had to offer.

“Okay, now get in the house.” He said, pulling away from you. “I don’t want you getting sick.” You gave a nod, accepting his demand as he gave you a light push towards the door. As you stepped away, his hand landed with a sharp slap on your ass, making you jump at the contact. You whipped your head around only to find him laughing at your reaction.

“I’ll lock you out here.” You threatened, stepping inside.

“You wouldn’t.” He brushed you off. He was right, and both of you knew it. You didn’t have the heart to be mean to him even for a second.

“Race you to the shower.” You said, ignoring his rebuttal and slipping your shirt over your head. You tossed it back in his direction as you moved towards the bathroom, not bothering to stop and wait for a reaction. He closed the door, listening to you giggle as you disappeared once again. With a smile on his lips, he chased after you, much happier with the dance in the rain knowing the reward that was now waiting for him. Then again, even if there was no promise of anything more than a kiss in the cold rain, he would still be more than happy to join you, because a moment with you was worth more than the world to him.

boyfriend Danny actually kills me. beating my head against a wall rn.

[kissingkiszka]

i’m yearning for jake period fluff BAD so here’s my request! jake really wants y/n to stay over. she agrees but then tells him she’s having her period this week. y/n was super nervous and shy but jake was super understanding and caring. he’s adaptive to her needs (advil, heating pad, supplies) and takes care of y/n for the days she spends there. SUPER fluffy, realistic, sweet, and lighthearted.

By Her Side - Jake Kiszka x Reader

Requested! I hope you enjoy :)

Words: 1.9k+

Summary: when Jake finds out the reader is on her period, he does everything in his power to help her feel better.

CW: 18+, MDNI, fluff, periods, talks of pain & period symptoms, use of pain medicine, surprises, cursing, there’s just lots of fluff, use of pet names, I believe that’s all!?

—————————————————————

6:32 p.m.

Jake: Come over?

You glance down at the notification on your phone and let out a loud sigh. You had just gotten your period yesterday and all the symptoms were hitting you like a brick. You reread his text a few times and think of all the possibilities. The second and third days were always the worst for you, and in no way did you want Jake to see you like this. You type out your response and bury yourself under another blanket.

6:36 p.m.

You: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

6:37 p.m.

Jake: Is everything alright?

6:38 p.m.

Jake: Call me.

Of course he’s going to be suspicious, you never say no to spending time with him. You watch as his name and face light up the screen. You let out a groan and lift the phone up to your ear.

“Jake-” You start.

“Hi Beautiful. What’s wrong?” He asks, worried.

“I'm fine. I’m just a bit preoccupied. That's all.” You unconvincingly tell him.

“Yeah, Y/N. I know you well enough to know that you're not fine right now.”

“Jake, I'm fine. I swear.” You had a feeling he wasn’t going to back down until you really told him what was wrong.

He inhales, and you can tell he's growing more concerned. “But you’re not.”

You liked Jake so much, and you really had a strong connection with him. But you just weren’t close enough with him yet to feel comfortable talking about all your period problems. You didn’t know how'd he react- if he’d be grossed out, or if he wouldn’t be understanding, or maybe he just didn’t want anything to do with this stuff. That is what made you the most nervous. It was a weird phase in your relationship that you couldn’t wait to get past. But maybe, this was the push that was needed to get you past it after all.

“Okay, Jake. Maybe you're right.” You fold, clutching your blanket closer to your chest.

“You know I’m here for you, always will be. So, lay it on me.”

“Well…” You hesitate for a bit. “I’m-uh, I got my period yesterday and I guess, I’m just not feeling well.” You shyly admit.

“Oh…” Jake pauses and a lump forms in your throat. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He asks softly.

“I just- I didn’t know how you’d take it.”

“Baby, I’m always gonna be here for you. I mean it. Don’t be scared or nervous to talk about natural things with me.” He takes a breath. “Maybe some company will help.”

“Okay.” You whisper softly.

It's Jake, of course he would understand.

“I’m coming over. Hold tight.” He tells you before hanging up the phone.

You continue to lay down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while you wait for Jake to come over. There’s no use in getting ready, he’s going to show up soon and you feel comfortable enough to be around him now that he knows what you’re going through.

Even though Jake only lives down the street from your place, it still takes him about 45 minutes until he arrives. You hear the tires pull onto the driveway and decide to send him a text.

7:26 p.m.

You: Key is under the mat. Don’t feel like getting up.

A few minutes later, you hear the door open and Jake’s voice announces his arrival.

“Honey?!”

“In here.” You sluggishly call out as footsteps grow closer to your room.

Your bedroom door swings open and Jake peers his head in. His eyes land on you, laying in bed.

“Hi, honey.” He softly smiles. He walks into your bedroom and you notice he's carrying multiple bags in hand. “You okay?”

“Hi Jakey.” You smile back at him, the only time you’ve smiled today. “Well, I kinda feel like shit. What’cha got there?”

“I would've gotten here sooner, except I made an essential pit stop on the way.” He tells you, dumping the bags on your bed.

“Awh, Jake, You didn't have to.”

“Let me take care of you.” He delicately runs his hand down your cheek, moving any hair out of your face. “There's that beautiful face.”

You begin to rummage through the bags together, seeing the various things he got for you.

“Well, I might’ve gone overboard.” He says as he pulls out a box of pads and a box of tampons. “I didn’t know which ones you preferred.”

“Thank you.” you nod. “That’s very thoughtful.”

“That’s not all.” He enthusiastically takes a bottle of Advil out of the bag and tosses it over to you. He then pulls out some chocolates and a box of herbal tea bags. “I can make this for you, you just let me know when you’d like it.”

“Thank you.” You graciously reach for a piece of chocolate and begin to munch on it. You immediately down the Advil in an attempt to get any sort of relief from the terrible cramps and the aching headache, amongst other symptoms.

“And, since you deserve it…” He reaches his hand into the second bag, and pulls out a bunch of body care items. “I got you a few bath bombs, a face mask, some body wash, and epsom salt. And look, this kind is specifically for periods.” He tells you, pointing to the package that reads ‘menstrual relief’.

You break out into a huge smile, nobody has ever done anything as sweet as this for you.

“Jake-” You sigh happily. “This is so sweet. Thank you.”

Even though your insides felt like they were at war with each other and all you wanted to do was bury yourself under a mountain of blankets for the next week, you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Jake always brought out the best in you.

“No need to thank me. I just want to see you happy.” He smiles and leans over to give you a hug.

He stands back up, and puts his hands on his hips while he thinks for a moment.

“Okay, so…” He begins. “You’re gonna stay here, and I’ll be right back.” He tells you before grabbing one of the bags off of your bed and walking out of your room.

You have no clue what he’s doing or where he’s going, so you begin to scroll mindlessly on your phone. You hear water begin to run in your bathroom. About 10 minutes later, Jake walks back into your bedroom.

“Where’d you go?” you question through a giggle.

“Come on. I’m gonna take good care of you.” He declared, helping you up out of bed.

“I can get up by myself.” you joked.

“I know you can, I just want to help.” He replied.

Feeling his strong arms wrapped around your waist while you went to stand was more than enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Okay, close your eyes and follow me.” He requests with a cheeky smile written across his face.

You sigh and close your eyes. He grabs your hand so he can easily guide you into the other room.

As he walks you across the hall, hand in hand, a relaxing aroma fills the air. You know you’ve entered the bathroom when you feel switch between the hallway's hardwood floors to the cold tile on your feet.

“Okay, ready?” He asks, squeezing your hand.

“Mhm.” You nod softly.

“Okay…open!” He announces.

You open your eyes to see the most relaxing bathroom set up ever. The lights are dimmed, there are burning candles on the countertop, your essential oil diffuser is pumping out lavender oil to help you relax, and there is a fully ready bubble bath awaiting you.

“I made you a bath.”

“Jake!” you gasp. “You did all of this? For me?”

“I sure did. You deserve it the most.” He lets go of your hand. “I’m sorry you’re going through so much right now.”

“It’s fine, Jake. It’s only my period. I get them every month.” You laugh, giving him an embrace. “This is the most thoughtful, sweetest thing anybody has ever done for me.”

“I know periods are monthly.” He laughs. “But if there is the slightest thing I can do for you during it, I will a hundred percent do it for you.”

“Thank you.” You grin, pulling out of the hug. “Stay the night?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He holds your forearms delicately and looks into your eyes. You could feel yourself getting lost in his deep brown eyes, and he gets lost in yours. After a few moments, you both snap back to reality.

He nervously giggles. “Oh! Don’t want the bath to get cold.”

You turn to face the bath and notice a tray next to your sink containing a face mask and one of the bath bombs he had just gotten for you. Jake sees that you notice the tray and carries it over to you.

“Almost forgot, you can use this face mask in the bath, if you want.” He kindly offered. “And I figured you’d want to put the bath bomb in yourself. Watch it fizz up..y’know..” He gives you a shy grin. He makes sure you’ve got everything you need to enjoy your bath time before he leaves you be.

After being able to decompress and clean yourself off in the warm and relaxing bath, you get out and wrap yourself in a fluffy towel that Jake had set aside for you. This was such a nice gesture from him, but it definitely wasn’t out of the norm for Jake. He always went out of his way to show his love, and this was no exception. Looking back, you had no idea why you were so nervous to tell him. You quickly dry yourself off and walk back to your room.

Back in your bedroom, you immediately notice your bed had been made with a set of freshly clean sheets. On top of your neatly made bed laid your most comfortable lounge clothes gracefully folded. Next to them were the boxes of pads and tampons that Jake had just bought for you. You quickly got dressed and wasted no time to make yourself comfortable. Jake was out in your living room, giving you privacy and space until you were decent.

“Darling, may I come in now?” He asks, knocking lightly on the door.

“Yes you may.” You reply, adjusting your shirt.

“How was the bath?” He inquires, laying down next to you.

“It was so nice. I feel so much better now.”

“I’m glad.” He chuckles.

“Thank you, really.” You say, turning to face him in bed. The smell of the clean sheets mixed with Jake’s musky cologne is more than enough to bring you peace.

“No need to thank me. I’m doing the bare minimum for you.”

“Wait, actually-”

“What do you need?” He immediately jumps up, ready to fulfill any of your requests.

“Could you bring me my heating pad?”

“Of course, honey.” He wastes no time and runs out of the room. He doesn’t want to leave you waiting.

“In the bathroom closet!” You exclaim, making sure he can hear you from wherever he is.

A few moments later, he saunters back into your room with it in hand. “Aha!” He plugs it in and hands it to you.

The rest of the night was spent with the two of you cuddling and watching some of your favorite comfort movies together. He even ordered take out from your favorite Chinese restaurant, per request.

That entire week he spent at your place, waiting on you hand and foot. He had you completely spoiled, but he knew you deserved it. Anything you needed, he jumped up at the first chance to get it for you.

[asacredthebread]

cover by @no-other-mashter

A Cabin In The Woods - Ch.1

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Sam x F!Reader

𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 - 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚌𝚎?

Warnings/Themes: Enemies to Lovers, Douche Sam, Ex Danny, Soft Twins.

wc; 8425

a/n: finally a series!! this little idea was fleshed out with the help of @dannys-dream . please enjoy!

taglist : @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf @fleetingjake

You glance around the room, taking in the scattered reminders of your lives intertwined. A few empty soda cans on the coffee table, remnants of your last gaming session. The stack of board games, some still in their boxes, others half-assembled, waiting for another night of laughter and playful competition. The anticipation thickens in the air, and you can almost hear the sounds of their arrival—a chorus of friendly banter, footsteps heavy with eagerness, the slam of the door as they burst in, bringing with them the energy of a weekend where everything seems possible.

With a sudden burst of energy, you jump up and move around the living room, tidying up just a bit. You gather the cans and throw them away, arrange the games into a neat, crooked pile, and adjust the throw pillows on the couch for an inviting look. As you work, you think about each of your friends and the unique role they play in your little group. Josh, the planner, always with a map in hand and ideas for adventures. Jake, the jokester, whose humor lights up even the cloudiest day. Danny, the quiet but observant one, who often surprises you with his insights. And Sam, the wanderer, whose spontaneous spirit often leads you to places you'd never thought to explore.

After a few minutes, you pause to listen again, straining for any sound of them arriving, but all you hear is the mesmerizing chirping of birds outside. You cross back to the window, pulling back the drapes to peer out at the driveway. The sunlight dances on the pavement, an empty space waiting, just like your heart wants to be filled again with the laughter and camaraderie that only this group can bring.

You think back to the plans you had made, each one a thread weaving the fabric of this weekend together. Hiking in the woods, fishing by the lake, maybe even telling ghost stories around the fireplace. Memories of weekends spent laughing until your sides hurt and sharing secrets that only deepened your bond float to the surface. You can almost picture how it will be: the five of you piled into the cabin, the air filled with chatter and the smell of snacks being prepared, the excitement of adventures awaiting just outside the door.

Time drags as you check your phone again, scrolling through messages but finding none. You switch to your playlists, letting the melodies fill the room, hoping they’ll calm your impatient heart. The music swells, wrapping you in its embrace as you move to the kitchen, the aroma of freshly baked cookies still lingering from earlier. You grab a couple, hoping the smell will entice your friends upon their arrival. You take a bite, savoring the rich sweetness that temporarily distracts you from the ticking clock.

Minutes crawl on, and your imagination takes flight, picturing each friend’s face, their expressions as they step through the door. You imagine Josh already trying to set up the itinerary, Jake’s inevitable quips punctuating the details, Danny’s dry humor, and Sam’s enthusiastic agreement peppering their discussions. The thought brings a smile to your lips, and you allow yourself to get lost in it.

You lean against the counter, glancing again at the clock. The hands seem stubbornly fixed, but finally, you hear it—the soft rumble of a car engine breaking through the afternoon stillness. Your heart skips a beat, and you rush to the door, peering out through the glass pane. It’s not just one car, but two, the familiar shapes of their vehicles parked haphazardly on the gravel.

Adrenaline courses through you, and you throw open the door, taking a moment to soak up the sight. Josh is the first out, already waving excitedly at you, his backpack slung over one shoulder. Sam tumbles out next, nearly tripping over his own feet, laughter spilling from his lips. Jake hops out of the backseat, a mock flourish accompanying his arrival. Then there’s Danny, who emerges more slowly, his presence calm amidst the whirlwind.

You step out into the open air, and as they draw nearer, the energy in your chest ignites into a full flame. Josh is already unfolding a paper with scribbled plans, Jake is regaling you with a story from the ride, and Sam is juggling a bag of snacks like a circus performer. You laugh, your voice mixing with theirs, as the worry of waiting melts away.

“About time you got here!” you tease, gesturing dramatically to your watch as they gather around you.

“Sorry! There was a weird traffic jam. Blame the ducks,” Jake shoots back, somehow managing to sound both sarcastic and sincere all at once.

The laughter that erupts is warm and infectious, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. You know that this is just the beginning; the weekend stretches out ahead of you, full of messiness and adventure, laughter and shared moments, just waiting for you to dive into it together. As the initial chaos of greetings dies down, there’s a gentle tug in your heart as you catch sight of Sam, now standing a little farther back, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His expression is unreadable, a mix of wariness and stubbornness that you’ve seen before. It wouldn’t be your first time navigating this peculiar distance that seems to have blossomed between you two since the breakup.

You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of discomfort coiling in your stomach. You remember when Sam was just a kid, tagging along with Danny, wide-eyed and full of curiosity. He idolized his older brother and you, too. But as the years rolled on, things shifted—the innocence of childhood faded, and the complexities of adulthood crept in. Once an eager participant in your little adventures, Sam now stood at the fringes, a silent observer in a space that used to feel so inclusive.

You flash him a smile, hoping to breach the silent wall that’s grown taller between you over the years. “Hey, Sam! You ready for this weekend?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light and inviting.

He responds with a tight, almost imperceptible nod, his gaze shifting to the grass at his feet. “Yeah,” he mutters, his voice barely audible over the excitement buzzing from the others. The wave of disappointment crashes over you like a cold breeze, leaving you shivering even in the warmth of the sun.

“Awesome! We’ve got hiking and fishing on the agenda. You’ll love it,” you say, keeping your voice steady, even though every word feels like a fragile bridge being built between you and him. You want him to feel included, to remember the fun the five of you shared—but something always seems to break that connection.

He shrugs but doesn't respond, and you can't help but notice how much his demeanor has changed. This is not the same Sam who once giddily climbed trees with you in the backyard or raced across the playground, his laughter mingling with yours. No, this version of Sam stands guarded, like he’s built a fortress around his emotions, and you’re left on the outside, struggling to find an entry point.

Josh, oblivious to your unspoken struggle, throws an arm around you and Sam, pulling you both into the group. “I brought the marshmallows! We need to find the perfect spot for making s’mores, right?” he announces, attempting to lift the mood.

You can feel Sam stiffen slightly against you as Josh continues to speak. You wonder if he even realizes how much the past has influenced his views on you, or if he’s even bothered to tell Danny how he feels. You want to reach out, to talk to him alone somewhere quiet, but the fear of making things worse holds you back. Hadn’t you tried before? You think back to the moments after the breakup, sensing that Sam’s icy glare had been directed at you more often than not.

Danny notices the tension, shooting a glance back at you. He’s always been the peacemaker among your friends, but even he hasn't managed to bridge the gap between you and Sam. He steps closer, trying to draw you back into the group dynamic. “Alright! Let’s load up the cars. I’ll grab the bags,” he says cheerfully.

You watch as Danny hustles away, a familiar sense of comfort and guilt flooding through you at his actions. He’s still your friend, even after everything, making this situation increasingly complicated. You had shared a deep connection, a bond that was special, but now that connection felt fragile, with threads fraying as each day went by. The decision to remain friends with him had been simple at the time, rooted in mutual respect and affection for one another, but you hadn’t fully anticipated how it would affect your relationship with Sam.

“Why does he still talk to you?” Sam’s voice cuts through your thoughts abruptly, and you turn to find him glaring at you, confusion etched across his features.

You blink, taken aback by his straightforwardness. It was a question not merely about your friendship with Danny, but something deeper, one that suggested unresolved feelings.

“What do you mean?” you reply, trying to keep your voice from wavering.

“Just… why? After everything? You broke up. It’s not fair to Danny, you know.” His eyes narrow, and there’s no mistaking the defensiveness that wrapped around him as he stood his ground.

Your heart sinks at his words. You had expected some tension, but you hadn’t anticipated this raw confrontation. “Sam, it’s not like that,” you respond gently, striving for sincerity rather than defensiveness, but it comes out muddled. “Danny and I are friends; that doesn’t change the past, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be there for each other. What happened between us was… well, it was years ago.”

But Sam isn’t ready to ease off. “Then why’s he still so close? Doesn’t it bother him? You just act like nothing happened.”

You feel a wave of frustration and hurt rise within you. “It’s not like we pretend it didn’t happen,” you counter, your voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve moved on. It was a mutual decision. But you haven’t even tried to understand.”

“Understand?” His voice cracks like glass, sharp and brittle. “You think it’s that easy? You hurt him—and you hurt me. Don’t act like you didn’t.”

And there it is, the voice of a protector, a younger brother shielding his older sibling from the pain you had inadvertently caused. Regret gnaws at your heart; you hadn’t anticipated how deep the roots of the past would grow, or how they would fester.

The moment stretches, a fragile silence hanging between you. You want to explain how even though the breakup had been tough, it was healthier for both of you to let go. You want to tell him that your friendship with Danny no longer carries the weight that it once did. But as you look into Sam’s frustrated eyes, filled with the hurt and resentment that he carries, you realize that words alone may not be enough.

You take a step toward him, lowering your voice, “I’m still the same person, Sam. I care about you. I always have. And I never wanted this. If I could take everything back, I would.”

There’s a flicker of vulnerability in Sam’s expression, but it’s quickly masked by a wall of defiance. He shakes his head, the battle between his emotions evident. “But you can’t. You can't erase the past. You’re just… you’re just not the person I thought you were.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air like an oppressive fog. Deep down, you know this isn’t just about you; this is Sam grappling with his loyalty, with the fragments of his innocence being directly affected by choices made long ago, neither of you fully prepared for the landscape of change that followed.

A voice in your head whispers that perhaps this moment isn’t the time to press further. What he needs might be different than what you want. So, instead of pushing, you simply take a deep breath and offer him a small, tentative smile. “I hope one day, you’ll see that,” you say quietly. It’s a promise to yourself, a commitment that you won’t give up on him, no matter how tough he chooses to be.

Josh calls out for everyone to grab their things, pulling you back into the present. The others have wandered off to the cars. You feel the pulsing uncertainty hanging over your head, yet a flicker of hope ignites amid the tension. While things may not settle overnight, perhaps this weekend spent together in the cabin can lay the groundwork, the first tentative steps toward rebuilding what feels broken.

As you approach the vehicles, your heart still heavy with the confrontation but your resolve steady, you glance back at Sam. He stands a little apart, watching as the others prepare for the adventure ahead. You can only hope that somewhere in him, beneath the hurt and the resentment, lies the same Sam who once laughed with you, the one who could still find joy in the shared moments to come. In the complicated web of friendships and past relationships, all you can do is be patient. And for now, that has to be enough. As you gather your things, moving methodically through the motions without allowing yourself to get attached to the feelings brewing within you, you can feel the invisible barrier remaining firmly in place between you and Sam. Over the months—no, the years—you’ve grown increasingly indifferent to his indifference. You’ve learned to encapsulate your disappointment in a box labeled “Sam,” pushing it aside among the remnants of a past that no longer holds the warmth it once did. It’s a survival tactic more than anything, one that helps you navigate the reality of being with the group without constantly feeling the sting of his coldness.

You toss your backpack into the back of the car, and from the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Sam’s silhouette. He is leaning against the trunk of his own car, arms crossed defensively as he furtively shoots glances your way, as if keeping track of your every movement. The feeling of animosity between you both has morphed into a standoff—one that has grown all too familiar. Civil, yes, but you’d be lying if you didn’t think of him as an enemy of sorts.

“Hey! You ready?” Josh’s voice pulls you back into the moment, a jovial spirit breaking through the tension that lingers over you like a storm cloud.

“Yeah, let me just grab a couple more things,” you reply, pushing away the distractions of the cold exchange with Sam. You put on your friendliest face, hoping it radiates enough warmth to block the chilly vibes from the younger brother.

As you turn back to your car, you can feel Sam’s eyes boring into your back. The sharpness of his gaze is enough to make you almost cringe. In a moment of pure habit, you catch his glance across the distance between you, but instead of engaging, you look away, resignation washing over you. This is your new normal—walking around each other with an almost practiced ease, avoiding topics that felt like landmines, running the motions without the heart.

You join Josh, who is animatedly motioning toward the pile of bags ready to be loaded into the car. He lifts your duffel bag, tossing it into the backseat. “You know what? I think this weekend is going to be pretty epic,” he says with an enthusiastic grin, and there’s a spark in his eyes that suggests he might be cooking up something devious underneath the cheerful exterior.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be fun,” you respond, keeping your tone light, but the spark of excitement doesn’t quite match what you feel inside. You know you’re only here for the rest of them—not for Sam, but for the camaraderie that the others bring. The thought serves as a bitter reminder that this weekend isn't going to be the joyful adventure you once experienced; it’s veiled in complications now.

“You don’t sound too thrilled,” Josh observes, tilting his head slightly as he watches you. His playful smirk hints that he knows you better than you’d like to admit.

“I am! I just— I don’t know. It’s hard with all the… dynamics,” you admit, glancing back at Sam, who is now leaning against the car, scrolling through his phone, feigning disinterest in everything around him.

Josh catches your gaze and follows it. “Ah, Sam,” he says knowingly, his smirk widening. “You know how to handle him, right? Just give him some space. He’s a brat, but he’ll come around… eventually. Maybe.” There’s a lightheartedness in his tone, but you can hear the flicker of truth beneath it as well.

You sigh softly, refraining from saying a whole lot. It’s tiring, dwelling on Sam and the gulf that has opened between you two. “I’m just here for the rest of you,” you finally say, attempting to shake off the weighty atmosphere hanging between you all.

“Oh come on, don’t sell yourself short,” Josh nudges playfully. “You’ll have a good time. Trust me; I’ve got plans. Just wait.” His eyes glimmer with mischief, promising something that you can't quite articulate but makes you feel a sense of intrigue mixed with a sprinkle of apprehension.

“Plans?” you raise an eyebrow, instantly curious. “What kind of plans?”

Josh just smirks and shakes his head. “You’ll see. Just… keep that excitement brewing. You’re going to need it.” He glances over your shoulder at Sam, who’s obliviously shifting his weight between his feet, looking anywhere but at you. “And if you want to help Sam thaw out, I’d say surprise him this weekend.”

You can’t help but snort. “Yeah, because that’s worked so well in the past,” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully. There’s a moment where you and Josh share a genuine laugh, an infectious moment that lifts your spirits—if only for a heartbeat.

But as the laughter fades, you find yourself swallowing the edges of optimism that Josh had carefully woven among your words. Everything feels like it’s wrapped in prickly layers, and you can’t quite shake off the lingering frost that Sam has established around himself. You glance back at the car, the rest of your friends mingling as they load their bags, and you know that whatever happens this weekend, the shadows will continue to linger.

But for now, you focus on the group—the familiar sounds of friends, the camaraderie that still exists, and the small moments where joy can weave through the complexities. If nothing else, you can hold onto that, at least for a little while longer.

The excitement builds as the group begins to finalize the car arrangements, laughter and chatter filling the air like the sweetest of harmonies. Meanwhile, you stand by your car, your bags safely stowed in the trunk, watching as Danny, Jake, and Josh cram themselves into one vehicle. Jake is behind the wheel, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms as he adjusts his sunglasses.

“Hey, we’re all set over here!” Danny calls out, giving you a wave with a grin that feels impossibly bright against the growing shadows of your own swirling emotions.

“Great! How's it looking?” you ask, attempting to maintain the upbeat spirit that the others seem to exude.

“It’s a tight fit,” Jake chuckles, shifting a few duffel bags to open up his side. “But I think we can manage. It’s like a fun little challenge. Just squeeze in!”

Your heart sinks a little. There’s no room for you to join the fun trio. There’s the undeniable reality that someone has to ride with Sam, and as fate would have it, that someone is you. The mental calculation runs through your head as Josh leans over. “So, it looks like you’re stuck with our favorite ice-cold brother,” he teases, a smile dancing on his lips.

You force a smile back, but the corners of your mouth barely lift. “Yeah, sounds like a blast,” you say, your voice dripping with false enthusiasm. But you know better; you’ve moved past hoping for a magical transformation between you and Sam. Instead, you brace for the awkward silence that awaits you.

“Just try not to kill each other,” Danny chimes in with a laugh, clapping Jake on the shoulder as he climbs into the backseat. The two of them crowd in with Josh, leaving you standing at the edge of the parking lot, bags in tow, feeling more like a reluctant passenger on a sinking ship.

“Have fun!” Josh throws over his shoulder, a teasing tone layered beneath genuine friendship. You merely nod and turn back toward your own car, steeling yourself for the ride.

As you approach Sam, who has finally peeled himself away from the trunk, your heart sinks a little deeper. He stands there, arms crossed, head tilted slightly to the side, like a statue carved from ice. You wonder if he’s ever going to ease up, but you have your doubts.

“Ready?” you ask, trying to inject a hint of excitement into your voice, but it falls flat, met by a lackluster nod from him. Definitely not the response you were hoping for.

He opens the passenger door for you, the gesture surprisingly formal, but no warmth underlies it. You slide in, feeling the chill envelop you like a thick winter coat. The atmosphere in the car is immediate—stark, heavy with uncomfortable silence. It hangs between you like a thick fog, dense and unyielding.

Sam quietly takes his place in the driver’s seat, starting the engine and fumbling with the radio. He seems determined to ignore your presence, staring straight ahead as if making an escape plan from the vulnerability of sharing a confined space. You wish there was a way to breach the awkwardness, to find a thread that could pull you back together, but as the tires crunch against the gravel, any hope for easy conversation dissipates.

Seeking some semblance of normalcy, you reach for the radio dial. “Let’s put some music on,” you suggest, flipping through the static-filled channels, your fingers finding the familiar rhythm of pop tunes and classic rock. Anything to drown out the suffocating quiet.

You land on a station playing an upbeat track—something that hints at carefree moments and happy adventures. As the music swells in the car, you glance over at Sam, who seems indifferent, his eyes fixed ahead on the road. The contrast between the vibrant sound and his unyielding silence sticks out like a sore thumb.

As the first chorus filters through the air, you attempt to find solace in the lyrics, tapping your fingers on your knee. The momentary distraction feels almost comforting, wrapping you in a bubble of familiarity, but the more you look over, the more the disconnection between you gnaws at your insides.

With each passing song, you steal glances at Sam, noticing the set of his jaw, the way he focuses entirely on the road, as if the scenery outside holds his full attention. It’s as though he’s cast you out completely, maintaining an air of impressive detachment. You feel the weight of his emotions pressing down upon you, and the lack of dialogue hangs heavily in the air, making you painfully aware of how this car ride is just another continuation of the unspoken animosity.

“Can we at least talk?” you break the silence after what feels like an eternity, your voice coming out more tentative than you intended.

A flicker of surprise crosses Sam’s features, but it’s quickly replaced by that familiar coldness. “What’s there to talk about?” he replies, his tone clipped and almost disdainful.

You don’t have an answer for that. Instead, you return your gaze to the road ahead, willing yourself to fade into the background. As the landscape lazily unfolds outside, you tap your fingers absently to the rhythm of the songs, clutching tightly to the momentary escape they offer while the awkwardness seeps into any crevice it can find.

The music continues to play, but the sound no longer feels potent enough to bridge the gap. And so, you sit in silence with Sam, together yet entirely alone, gripped by the cold tension that still looms overhead as the car speeds into a weekend that feels far from the promise of the adventure it should hold.

The thrum of the tires against the gravel grows faint as Sam pulls the car to a stop. The abrupt halt rouses you from your thoughts, your body tense and coiled from the ride. You can sense the anticipation in the air as you sit in silence for a moment longer, taking in the surroundings. The cabin abruptly fills with the chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves—a serene welcome that feels almost surreal after the oppressive silence of the drive.

With a burst of adrenaline, you fling open your door before Sam has even turned off the engine. The cool breeze greets you like an old friend as you hop out, not waiting for any farewell or parting glance. Your feet hit the ground with a thud, and you cherish the feeling of freedom as you stretch your legs and breathe in the fresh, earthy scent of the outdoors.

“Finally!” you exhale, shaking off the lingering weight of the car ride as you make your way towards the others, who are unloading their bags with animated chatter. You spot Danny first, his voice carrying over the excited hum of everyone’s arrival.

“Hey! You made it!” he calls, a warm smile brightening his face as he waves you over.

“Yep! I survived,” you reply, injecting a playful cheer into your words as you approach him. He raises an eyebrow playfully, sensing there’s more to your story than your upbeat tone conveys.

“How was the ride with Sam?” Danny inquires, leaning in closer, curiosity dancing in his eyes. You can’t help but let out a short, bitter laugh.

“It was… cold,” you say, searching for the right words. “I mean, really, really cold. Like, I thought I was going to need a parka.”

Danny’s expression shifts to one of mild concern mixed with amusement. He chuckles softly, his eyes glancing towards Sam, who is now focused on unloading bags from the car with an almost robotic efficiency. “Sounds about right. He can be a snowstorm in human form,” he jokes, but there’s an underlying seriousness in his voice.

You nod, the heaviness of the ride still looming over you like a lingering cloud. “I just don’t get why he has to be like that,” you admit, your voice dropping slightly as you try to keep the conversation light.

“It’s Sam,” Danny shrugs, rolling his eyes. “He’s always been like that. Don’t take it personally. He’ll warm up—eventually.” The reassurance sounds hollow, but you appreciate the effort.

Before you can respond, Josh jogs over, cutting into the moment with a laugh as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “What’s the scoop? Did you two drive the entire way without speaking?”

“Pretty much,” you reply, crossing your arms defensively as if that might shield you from the teasing laughter that’s sure to follow. “It was like a contest to see who could be the most silent.”

Josh pretends to gasp dramatically. “An entire hour spent without banter? The horror! Next time, I’ll bring a competition trophy for you both,” he says, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Despite the playful taunts, you feel a little warmth blossom inside you, a reminder that you’re among friends who know the perfect way to lift your spirits even when the situation feels bleak.

As the rest of the group gathers around, you can sense a change in energy, the camaraderie enveloping you like a well-worn blanket. You watch as Jake unloads the last of the bags, and you can see the excitement bubbling up among everyone, a collective anticipation for the weekend ahead.

Maybe, just maybe, you can set aside the awkwardness with Sam and focus on the fun awaiting you all. But the idea of staying civil with him still nibbles at the edges of your mind, lingering beneath the surface.

“Let’s get settled before we explore,” Josh suggests, gesturing toward the cozy cabin that looms invitingly on the hillside. “I could use a good stretch and some snacks to keep my energy up. Who's with me?”

You follow his lead, feeling the warmth of the group draw you in, leaving Sam behind in the background. The unspoken tension ebbed slightly as you turn away, making a conscious effort to step toward laughter and a sense of belonging.

But even amidst the joyful chaos, you can’t help but glance back toward the car, where Sam is still standing, finishing his task in solitude. His presence is a whispering shadow in the back of your mind, a reminder of the icy wall that still divides you. For now, you shake off the unease, hoping that somehow, the thrill of the weekend can melt even the iciest of barriers.

As the group disperses to settle into the two cabins, excitement crackles in the air, mixing with the sweet scent of pine and earthy undertones of the surrounding woods. You watch as Jake, Josh, and Danny haul their gear inside the same cabin, eager to dive into their music and brainstorm creative ideas for the next tour. Their laughter rings out, a cheerful melody that resonates against the backdrop of chirping birds and rustling leaves.

Meanwhile, Sam stands a few feet away, allowing the warmth of camaraderie to wash over him without fully engaging. His body language is closed off, as if he’s placed an invisible barrier between himself and the rest of the group. You steal glances in his direction, still ruminating over the constricting atmosphere from the car ride. But with all the excitement building around you, a part of you feels ready to push that unease aside.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Jake exclaims, clapping his hands together as he leads the way into their cabin. It feels right for them to be together, indulging in what they love best. But then your attention shifts back to Sam as he ambles toward the opposite cabin, the decision clearly marked on his face—he wants out. Out of everything.

“Hey, Sam, you want to join us?” Josh asks, half-joking but clearly hopeful for his inclusion.

Sam shakes his head firmly without turning. “I need a break from all this,” he replies tersely, a dismissal that nearly stings in the air. You can see his shoulders tense, a clear indication he’s not about to open up—about anything. It’s a bark of resistance, a wall of icy resolve that sends a reminder of the distance between you.

As you stand there, the tension in the air palpable, you feel a strange mix of anticipation and dread at the thought of cabin assignments. Jake, Josh, and Danny bustle into their cabin, laughter spilling out like sunlight, while Sam, ever the enigma, remains outside, his posture rigid with resolve. Your heart sinks a little when you hear the casual banter coming from the cabin that’s supposedly supposed to be yours.

“Hey, where’s the other cabin?” you ask, trying to mask the unease creeping in.

“It’s just over there,” Josh points, his demeanor as light-hearted as ever. “You’ll love it! It’s cozy, and the view is killer.”

Sam’s voice cuts in sharply from behind you. “I’m really going to need some quiet.” He slips past and heads toward the other cabin, and you can’t help the irritated glance you shoot Josh.

“What? I’m just suggesting you join us!” Josh grins, unfazed by your discontent. He winks, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

With a resigned sigh, you watch Sam disappear into his chosen retreat. Deciding against further argument, you follow Josh, your heart sinking at the prospect of being ushered into the one space you hadn’t planned on. This was just typical, wasn’t it? The universe had a way of throwing you situations you never asked for.

As you step inside the cabin, you're immediately struck by its rustic beauty. The arching wooden beams overhead give it a charm, while large windows let in soft splashes of golden sunlight. A comfortable couch sits invitingly near a small fireplace, and the kitchen area glistens with warmth and promise of shared meals. There’s an instant feeling of home.

“See? Isn’t it nice?” Josh beams, stepping further in to gesturing for you to join. You can't help but find the ambiance enchanting, the essence of the cabin soothing.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you admit, allowing yourself to be momentarily distracted by the quaint details—an assortment of vintage mugs hung from a rack, a checkered tablecloth draped over the dining table. Everything feels so inviting, and for a heartbeat, the knot in your stomach unravels. Perhaps it won’t be so bad after all.

But then, as you continue to stroll through the space, your gaze lands on the sleeping area tucked in the corner. The moment you realize there’s only one bed—small, rustic, and undeniably charming—you stop in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat.

“What?” You whirl around to Josh, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. “There’s only one bed? Seriously?”

Josh holds up his hands defensively, a playful smirk on his face. “Hey, I don’t make the rules! It’s a cozy cabin, and they weren’t exactly built with… convenience in mind.”

“Convenience?” you huff, incredulity dripping from your tone. “We’re not in a romantic teen flick, Josh! I can’t sleep in a bed with Sam—he can be like a thousand ice cubes!”

“Relax, it’s just for a couple of nights,” Josh chuckles, clearly not fully grasping the discontent rippling through you. “Think of it as an adventure!”

You let out a frustrated groan, rubbing your temples as you try to process this unforeseen development. “An adventure or a nightmare?” Your thoughts race, imagining the uncomfortable moments that lie ahead.

“Look, just make the best of it! You never know, you might actually enjoy it.” He winks again, turning to head for the door. “I’m going to go grab the rest of my stuff. Just—be nice to him, okay? Sam can surprise you.”

As the door clicks shut behind him, you stand in the silence of the cabin, weighing your options. There is a certain comfort in the beauty of the place, but the knowledge that Sam would be your only companion when night descends fills you with dread.

What were the chances of this turning into anything less than awkward? You glance at the bed again, a small, perfect frame draped with a warm comforter, and you can’t help but let out a soft groan. There was no escaping this predicament. Not only would you have to confront the tension that lingered between you and Sam, but you’d also have to figure out how to share such an intimate space without succumbing to the discomfort.

With a cautious sigh, you decide that if you’re going to be stuck in this situation, you might as well make the best of it. Drawing a deep breath, you head back toward the door, determined to find Sam before the night descends—perhaps a little friendly banter could chip away at that frosty demeanor. Or at least, you hope it could. You stand for a moment, wrestling with the urge to chase after Sam. After all, he’s a grown man. This trip is meant to be a break for everyone, and he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, even if he seems intent on brooding in solitude. With a firm nod to yourself, you decide against following him.

Instead, you turn back to the cabin, allowing its warm atmosphere to wrap around you like a comforting blanket. Setting your bag on the cozy couch, you begin to unpack, slowly taking out your belongings. You lay out your clothes in the small dresser and set your toiletries on the counter, your fingers brushing over the well-worn wood. Each item finds its place, and with everything finally organized, the cabin begins to feel more like home.

Once you’re finished, you grab your book from the side pocket of your bag, the familiar cover a welcome sight. Plopping down on the couch, you curl your legs beneath you, settling in to read. The cabin is silent, save for the soft sounds of nature filtering in through the open window—the whisper of the wind and the distant call of a bird.

You find your place in the book, the words enveloping you as you lose yourself in the story. Time slips away, the characters pulling you deeper into their world while the sun sinks lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink through the windows. The ambiance is peaceful and serene, the perfect backdrop to an evening of escape.

But as the sky darkens and stars begin to twinkle overhead, the lure of the outside world beckons you. You set your book aside and decide to venture out. Stepping out of the cabin, the crisp night air hits you, fresh and invigorating. The soft glow of a campfire flickers in the distance, laughter and chatter weaving a warm, welcoming melody.

You make your way toward the group, and as you approach the fire, you spot Jake’s familiar silhouette, his laughter rising above the others. Instinctively, you feel drawn to him—the effortless way he seems to brighten the mood always brings a smile to your face.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to join us!” Jake calls out, his grin infectious. He pats the space beside him on a log that’s been pulled close to the fire. As you settle down next to him, you allow your body to relax, the warmth radiating from the flames washing over you.

“Sorry for the delay. Getting settled took longer than I expected,” you reply, glancing around at the other members of the group. Danny and Josh sit opposite you, animatedly discussing something that makes them all break into laughter now and then, while Sam appears a short distance away, leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene unfold.

Jake leans closer, his voice lowering a notch so only you can hear. “You know, touring can be exhausting, but there’s nothing like a campfire to recharge. The stories we gather, the people we meet—it’s all a part of it.”

You nod, intrigued. “What’s one of your favorite moments from tour?”

Jake’s eyes light up as he leans back, stretching his arms. “Oh man, there are so many! But there was this one time in Stockholm. We had a show, everything was fine, and then it just started pouring down. Everything was getting wet, crew were running out to try and cover everything, but we decided to go for it anyway. The energy in that crowd was electric. People were dancing in the rain, completely soaked, loving every minute of it. There’s just something magical about sharing those experiences, y’know?”

You listen intently, captivated by the enthusiasm in his voice. As Jake reminisces, you can see the clear passion he has for his craft, for the stage, and for those chaotic yet beautiful moments that make up a musician’s life.

The comforting glow of the fire creates a warm cocoon around the group, and little by little, you become absorbed in the shared tales of adventures, mischief, and unexpected mishaps. The feeling of camaraderie fills the space as stories pass around like cherished keepsakes—each anecdote drawing you closer to the rest of the group.

You steal a glance at Sam, noticing that he hasn't moved. He seems distant, lost in his own thoughts, but you remind yourself that you are not responsible for him. Tonight is about the warmth of friendship and connection, a reminder of the bonds you share with these people.

As the conversations swirl around you, you find a comfortable spot amid the laughter and storytelling, finally allowing yourself to relax. There may be unresolved tension with Sam lingering in the back of your mind, but for now, you embrace the moment—the crackling fire, the rich stories, and the sparkling stars above. As the evening unfolds, the warmth of the fire ignites a newfound energy in the group. Josh reaches into a cooler nearby, cracking open a few drinks, the sounds of cans popping echoing into the night. The laughter swells as everyone grabs their beverages, toasting to camaraderie under the twinkling stars.

“Cheers!” Jake calls out, holding his can high. The others echo him, clinking their drinks together, the sound of laughter mingling with the crackling of the fire. You take a long sip, feeling the refreshing taste wash over you, a perfect complement to the lively atmosphere surrounding you.

The night deepens, and the glow of the fire flickers and dances across everyone’s faces, creating a cozy enclave of warmth amid the cool night air. The conversation flows easily, stories bouncing back and forth, punctuated by the occasional jeer or hearty laugh. You settle comfortably into the moment, appreciating the ease with which everything seems to be unfolding.

As the evening progresses, you catch sight of Sam from the corner of your eye. He stands at the edge of the clearing, arms still crossed, leaning against a tree. He seems disconnected, observing from a distance, his expression unreadable. Yet, as you continue to watch, it’s clear he’s caught in the contagious vibe that surrounds the fire. You look away, not wanting to give it too much thought.

Just when you begin to wonder if he’d stay withdrawn, he edges closer, his presence almost tentative but still steadfast. Jake waves him over, and to your surprise, Sam steps forward, joining the group but keeping a careful distance from where you sit. He responds to the others with brief smiles and nods, his warmth reserved only for them.

A moment later, Josh stretches and calls out, “Hey, Jake! Switch seats with me!” Without hesitation, he stands and swiftly swaps places with Jake, who falls into a natural rhythm chatting with Danny on the opposite side of the fire.

Now seated next to you, Josh leans in with a grin that instantly eases any lingering tension. “So, I’ve been mapping out a hiking trip for tomorrow,” he says, excitement bubbling in his voice. “I found this amazing trail that leads to this gorgeous viewpoint. If you’re up for it, I think it'll be a blast!”

You perk up, intrigued. “Really? How long is the hike?”

“A few hours, give or take, depending on how much we stop to take photos,” he says, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I thought it would be a great way to explore the area while also getting some fresh air. Plus,” he adds with a conspiratorial grin, “you can get a step ahead on your ‘adventure’ with Sam!”

You chuckle at the idea, but a part of you feels a little conflicted. “What if Sam doesn’t want to join us?” you muse, shooting a glance toward him. Even as he sips his drink, he seems engaged in casual conversation with the others, yet his gaze is distant, unfocused.

“Oh, come on!” Josh rolls his eyes dramatically, leaning closer, his voice a playful whisper. “He might be grumpy now, but when he gets out on the trail, the fresh air could do him wonders. Besides, it’s all about enjoying ourselves, right?”

You can’t help but smile at Josh’s infectious enthusiasm. “Okay, I’ll join you. Sounds like fun!”

“Awesome! I’ll make sure to bring some snacks. We can have a little picnic at the viewpoint,” he suggests, and just then, Danny breaks out into another story, eliciting laughter from Jake and the rest of the group.

As you settle into the conversation with Josh, a lightness begins to fill the air, and the earlier tension fades. You steal another glance at Sam, noticing he’s still holding his drink, but has started engaging more than before. It’s small, but you sense a subtle transformation with him—something that perhaps indicates that being around the fire is melting the ice a bit.

Everyone’s laughter mingles with the night sounds, the stars shining brightly above as the embers of the fire flicker and pop. You lean back, soaking in the moment. Tomorrow promises new adventures—one filled with hiking, laughter, and the spirit of exploration. For now, you allow yourself to enjoy that sense of belonging, sharing stories and warmth with your chosen family under the expansive sky.

The night begins to stretch on, each minute blending into the next, the laughter and stories creating a seamless tapestry of warmth and companionship. The fire crackles softly, slowly surrendering to the coolness of the evening air as the flames retreat into a pile of glowing embers. The comforting scent of smoke lingers, weaving through the crisp atmosphere around you.

As the group continues to chatter, the energy isn’t quite as boisterous as it had been earlier. Conversations begin to dwindle into soft murmurs, the warmth of the fire drawing everyone closer as shadows dance around you. You can feel the budding fatigue settling in; the day had been long, filled with travel and commotion. Glancing around, you catch sight of Josh and Danny, both leaning back on their hands, eyelids heavy with sleep.

Jake stands up, stretching with a yawn. “I think it’s about time we call it a night, huh?” he suggests, quickly met with nods and sighs of agreement. Slowly, everyone begins to rise from their places around the fire, reluctantly shaking off the comfort of the warmth.

“Goodnight, everyone!” Josh calls out, before he and Danny wander off toward the cabin.

The others follow suit, saying their goodnights as they drift in their separate directions, leaving you and Sam lingering by the fire. He stands nearby, his expression still somewhat distant, eyes flickering briefly toward the ashes.

“Let’s head in,” you say, breaking the silence as you turn to him. Sam nods but doesn’t say anything, still gazing into the dimming fire.

You walk toward the cabin door, Sam following closely behind. He steps through the threshold first, immediately letting out a breath as he brushes off the chill that clings to him. “Man, it’s cold out there,” he remarks, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

You smile, turning back to the fire for one last moment before stepping inside. As you linger, you scan the darkened cabin, your eyes drifting toward the dwindling logs stacked in the corner. There aren’t many left for tomorrow, and while it tugs at your mind, you decide it’ll be a problem for a later time. Right now, the warmth from the fire still barely fills the room, and it holds a comfort that you want to stay in a little longer.

The embers crackle softly, glowing like miniature stars against the ashy backdrop, and as you watch, a small wave of peacefulness washes over you. But then, the moment takes a shift. You turn back toward Sam and notice he’s looking around the cabin, a scowl etched on his features.

“Huh,” he says. “I didn't realize there was only one bed.”

His tone is curt, and there’s a flicker of something—annoyance? Disappointment?—behind his eyes. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow, feeling the weight of the night's earlier warmth dissipate slightly at his words.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a small cabin,” you reply, trying to keep the tone light. “We’ll figure it out.”

Sam huffs, hands shoved deep in his pockets, the tension palpable. “What do you mean we’ll figure it out?”

“Well,” you start, taking a small breath, unsure where to steer the conversation, “we can always share the bed, given that all the other beds are... well, nonexistent.”

He rolls his eyes, his dissatisfaction clear. “Great. Just what I wanted—sharing a bed in a cabin that’s apparently meant for couples.”

You feel a flush creep up your neck at the unintended implication in his words. “It’s just logistics, Sam. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me,” he snaps, his glare holding onto the shadows of the cabin. The air suddenly feels thick with tension, spiraling into an uncomfortable silence between you. You desperately search for the right thing to say, to ease the moment, but it seems nothing fits.

“Look,” you finally say, trying to keep the peace, “we can make the best of it, right? Maybe it’ll just be a fun memory to—”

Sam interrupts, his voice edged with frustration. “Yeah, a fun memory. Because sharing a bed with you will definitely be memorable,” he mutters, sarcasm dripping off his words.

You take a step back, a knot forming in your stomach. The atmosphere that had felt so warm and friendly by the fire now feels heavy and constricted. This isn’t how you wanted the night to end.

“Fine,” you say, drawing back slightly. “If you don’t want to share, you could always sleep on the floor.”

Sam’s expression shifts, caught somewhere between indignation and surprise. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

Silence lingers again, thickening the air. You both stand in the small cabin, the only sounds coming from the gentle crackling of the dying fire outside, your voices echoing in the corners of the room.

“Let’s just get some sleep,” you suggest quietly, hoping to soften the moment. He shifts slightly, the tension still palpable as he nods, but there’s an undeniable chill in the air that wasn’t there a moment ago.

As the last remnants of warmth flicker in the embers outside, the cabin darkens around you, pulling you both into an unwelcome reality—the boundaries of friendship challenged by the confines of close quarters.

[takenbythestarcatchers]

STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND LOOK AT THIS

This is actually the most precious low quality photo that I’ve ever seen 😭😭