22 With Danny 🥹

22 with Danny 🥹

Doing each others hair

22 With Danny 🥹

w/c: 2k

pairing: danny x reader

warnings: showering together but no smut, fluff 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting, I hope you like it!! ♥️

Prompt list here

The main door of your home opened, sending a jolt of panic through you. You weren’t expecting Danny to be home so soon, and your current state was very much reflective of that. Half of your hair was tied up, and the bottom half was doused in hair dye, although, admittedly, very poorly. You had greatly underestimated the dedication it would take to dye your own hair, and your arms were growing more tired by the second. Plus, it didn’t help that you couldn’t quite see what you were doing. The bleaching was an easy process, it didn’t take long and you still had motivation while you were doing it. Once you rinsed it out and blow dried, the mood shifted. You were hungry, tired, and ready to give up on your mission.

You expected to be finished by the time Danny returned home, but the process was taking longer than anticipated. When his footsteps echoed down the hall, you realized that it might just be easier to ask him to help, rather than to send him away. “Y/n?” He asked, nearing the door to the bathroom.

“In here,” you replied, loud enough so he could hear you over the music playing. “Come in.” You added, awaiting the door opening. After a moment, it did. He peeked his head around to get a look at you before he stepped inside. When he caught sight of the scene, he was met with a one that he certainly wasn’t expecting.

“What uh… what are you doing?” He asked, a smile on his lips and a small laugh following the question.

“Baking a cake.” You rolled your eyes. He chuckled, fully stepping inside.

“You need some help?”

“Yes, please.” You sighed. “My arms are killing me.” You set the brush down inside the bowl of red dye and turned to look at him. He lifted your chin, leaning down to place a kiss to your lips while being cautious about touching the dye. You carefully slipped off your gloves, motioning for him to give you one of his hands. When he did, you put it on him. He gave you his other hand so you could do the same.

He grabbed the brush, dipping it in the dye and positioned himself behind you. He was already aware of the process. It wasn’t the first time he’d helped you out, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You were quite keen on changing your hair up every so often, and in a true boyfriend fashion, Danny was always willing to lend a helping hand. “Red this time?” He asked, slowly applying the colour to your freshly bleached hair.

“Yeah, haven’t had it in a while. I thought it would look cool.” You shrugged.

“It will,” he agreed. “I like it already.” You smiled at his statement. He was always so accepting of anything you did, and made sure to cheer you on while you did it. He was the best boyfriend, and there was no arguing that fact. You had already done most of the work; he only needed to touch up the parts closest to your scalp. He worked in almost silence aside from an occasional comment. He finished it up with ease and placed the brush back in the bowl. He gently arranged the dyed portion on top of the towel you had draped across your shoulders. “All done.” He informed you.

“Thank you,” you said, turning to face him. He smiled down at you, just happy to finally get a good look at your face. That was something you loved about him; no matter what you looked like, or how much disarray you were in, he always looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world; like he was so lucky just to be able to be near you.

“Anytime, bug.” He replied, removing the gloves from his hands. Once they were safely on the counter, he grabbed you by the waist and gently guided you into him. He leaned down, giving you a proper kiss. You held him there for a moment, content with the action and realizing how much you’d missed him all day. When you parted, he gazed over your shoulder and looked to the dye that was still left. “What are you gonna do with the rest of it?” You turned, looking quickly at what he was referring to. You pondered, unsure of what you could use it for. You’d overestimated the amount by a little, leaving just enough to make you feel guilty about throwing it away.

An idea sprung to mind, eyes lighting up and a mischievous grin spreading across your cheeks. You turned back to him, letting your gaze fall on the blonde streaks that ran through his mess of dark curls. You reached up, finding a highlight that ran underneath his hair, hidden mostly from initial view. You looked to meet his eyes, just to find him already watching you. “We could match?” He let out a small laugh, already knowing what you were thinking before you said it. “Just an idea.”

“Yeah, why not.” He shrugged. “Just one, though.”

“Of course.” You nodded, feeling the excitement bubble within you. He’d never let you do anything to his hair before, but at the same time, you’d never really asked. “You sure?” You asked for clarification.

“Yeah.” He assured you. “I think it would be cool. And I’d get to match with you, so that’s even cooler.” You felt a blush dust across your cheeks. Even after years of dating, he still managed to make you blush. Even after so much time, you often still felt the nervousness and giddiness of the crush you had on him all those years ago. You hoisted yourself up on the edge of the countertop with your hands so you could sit. Once you were secure in your position, you guided him towards you.

“Take your shirt off.” You said, grabbing the dish of dye. He did as he was told, throwing it on the floor. Your eyes drifted to his now exposed torso, finding your heart speed in your chest.

“Like what you see?” He teased, a smile still stuck on his lips.

“Always.” You breathed, no tone of joking present. Instead of lingering on the topic, you moved most of his hair around to one shoulder, securing it there with the elastic you had around your wrist. Carefully, you separated one streak of blonde. “You can still back out, you know.”

“I’m okay.” He laughed. “It’s just hair.” You couldn’t argue the point with him, because you always said the same thing. Without any further hesitation, you started applying the colour to his hair, too. It only took a few moments to completely saturate the hair, as it was only a tiny amount. Once you finished, you placed the dish back on the counter once more. You shifted slightly, pulling him into you a little bit further. You wrapped your arms around him, enveloping him in a hug. He looked down, careful as to not disrupt any of the hair that was processing the colour, and placed a kiss to your forehead. “How long do we have to wait?”

“‘Till it’s ready.” You hummed, cheek pressed against his bare chest.

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question.” He laughed.

“About thirty minutes.” You said, closing your eyes and appreciating the warmth of his body. “How was your day?”

“Less exciting than yours.” He teased, fingers tracing small patterns into your lower back. “Lots of meetings, preparing for the next tour.”

“Don’t remind me,” you mumbled, your grip on him tightening a little bit.

“So you just decided you needed a change?” He asked.

“Yeah, got bored.” You explained, but he was well aware of your constant need to change up your hair. Over the years, it became normal for him to come home to the bathroom in complete disarray with coloured hair dye and towels all over the place. Often times, he ended up having to finish the job for you, but he never once complained. You thought the change kept things exciting, and he was always happy to see you happy. Plus, he’d think you were the most beautiful person in the world, even if you had no hair. He was in love with you no matter what, and proved it further every day that passed.

Minutes went by, filled with small chatter and many stolen kisses. When the time came to rinse the dye out, both of you thought it was easier to hop in the shower together. You stepped in first, the warm water instantly relaxing you. He let you enjoy the warmth for a moment before he helped you wash the colour from your hair. Once the majority was out, he searched for your shampoo and poured some on his hand. “C’mere.” He beckoned you towards him. You did so, allowing him the opportunity to lather the soap throughout your hair. He did it in a much more gentle manner than you would have, and took some extra time to massage your scalp, easing the tension in your head. Once he was satisfied with the amount of bubbles that had formed, he took it upon himself to try to form your hair into a giant spike at the top of your head.

“Stop,” you giggled, trying to push his hands away.

“No, hold on. I almost have it.” He pleaded. You stopped trying to fight it, in no way able to stay annoyed at him when he looked so happy. After a few moments, he managed to get it to stay up somewhat well. “There. It’s perfect.” He said in triumph. He only admired it for a moment before it inevitably fell. He didn’t dwell on the disappointment, wasting no time guiding you back into the water and washing it out for you. The beauty of the bare intimacy without the intent of anything sexual was overwhelming.

Once the shampoo was washed out, he carefully combed some conditioner through the ends of your hair. You stepped out of the way of the shower head, letting it sit for a few minutes. “Your turn.” You said with a smile. He stepped back into the water, wetting his hair and trying to maneuver himself down so you could comfortably reach his head. You did the same thing he’d done for you, leaving out the mohawk bit, and allowed him to wash the soap away. When it came time for the conditioner, you took extra time coating his hair and combing through the knots. Once you finished, he only gave you enough time to rinse your hands off before he was pulling you into a hug.

“I love you,” he hummed, guiding your face up so he could kiss you.

“I love you.” You mumbled against him, eyes closed in bliss. You both sat for a while, caught in an embrace neither of you wanted to break. Eventually, you parted and finished washing yourselves, then stepped out of the shower. You wrapped yourselves in towels, finding yourselves gravitating back to each others hold. “Thanks for helping me.” You mumbled, face once again pressed to his chest.

“I’ll always help you, bug. That’s what I’m here for.” He said, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Plus, I got a pretty cool hairstyle out of it, too.” You could feel him smile against you.

“We match.” You added, looking towards the steam streaked mirror. You lifted your hand, picking out the thin lock of red hair from his curls. “When you’re gone on tour, you won’t be able to forget me, now.” He let out a scoff, completely dismissing your comment.

“Like I could ever forget about you.” He pulled you a little bit closer, just to show you he meant what he said. “But, we do look super cool.”

“The coolest.” You agreed. “Everybody will be so jealous.” He laughed at your statement, nodding in agreement.

“I love you so much.” He whispered. “You look absolutely beautiful.” He ran his fingers through the freshly dyed hair.

“I love you,” you smiled. “And I have to admit, you look quite nice, too.” He pulled you into another kiss, both of you completely content by just being in each others arms. You knew that it would always be your happiest place, because you were certain you’d never find anyone else who was so willing to join in on your crazy ideas.

god i love danny he’d be such a good bf, always supportive and nice and sweet and i just love him sm :(

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I should really do some more coloring of sketchbook pieces.


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1 year ago
Birdie

Birdie

Golfer!Danny x Reader 18+ (afab anatomy) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

Danny comes home to a homemade lunch after a morning on the course and shows you just how much he appreciates you.

gender neutral terms, vagina haver, multiple orgasms, soft dom danny, soft smut, very light daddy kink (it's mentioned once), aftercare

A/n: gc asked for soft smut so here we go 🤭

you had just finished prepping lunch when you heard the door slam. "in here babe!" you called from the kitchen, wiping your hands on your shirt and moving from the counter to greet your boyfriend.

"hey my love," he said, smiling at you, leaning forwards to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, resting a hand on your waist. He peered over your shoulder to see the lunch spread you had put on the kitchen table. "babe, you made me lunch?" he asked sweetly, grip tightening around you. "i wanted to do something special! you've been working so hard and," he cut you off with a kiss. "you're just the sweetest. how did i get so lucky?" he cupped your jaw and pulled you in deeper, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. you pulled away, panting slightly, as he moved down your neck. "f-fuck danny, the lunch..." you gasped, reveling in the way his tongue worked at your skin.

"it'll still be there when we're done. besides there's something more delicious right in front of me." he whispered, returning to your lips as he slowly walked you backwards until your back hit the counter. his hands migrated towards your chest, toying with your shirt before slipping it off, exposing your skin. he placed soft kisses down your chest, teeth dragging ever so slightly. you moaned again, mouth dropping open, eyes slipping shut. "you gonna be good for me baby?" he asked, hands reaching down to unbutton his pants. you followed his lead and sank down to your knees, "you're always good for me huh? such a sweet baby," he trailed as you looked up at him through your eye lashes.

you placed your hands on his hips, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his hardening cock through his underwear, watching the precum leak through the fabric. "fuck, baby," he groaned, hand threading into your hair, keeping that nice firm grip that makes you go weak in the knees. you pressed more open mouth kisses, trailing down to his bare thighs, marking them along the way, before finally pulling his boxers down.

you giggled as his hard cock smacked against his stomach, letting his beautiful sounds wash over you. "so good for me baby," he whispered, taking in the view. ever so slowly, you placed a hand around him, lightly grazing the skin, before placing a kiss against the tip, slowly slipping it past your lips. as you sank further down, taking him into your throat, you let out a low hum, relaxing your throat as he thrusted gently into your warm mouth. you never knew giving someone else head could feel so good, but the way his hands felt in your hair went straight to your heat. "so beautiful," you heard him say from above you, as he rocked slowly into your mouth. you felt his hips stutter, a tell tale sign he was about to cum, so you tightened your grip on his hips, pulling him deeper to the hilt, until your nose was pressed against his pelvis, buried in the dark hair that surrounds him. "shit," he hissed as you hummed, hollowing your cheeks around him.

you swirled your tongue, curling it around what you could reach, peering up at him, watching the way his chest flexed, head tipped back. "so good baby," he grunted as you pulled off with a pop. you could tell he was seconds away as you kitten licked the tip. you watched the way his abs tightened, hand cradling his balls, before sinking back down, hollowing your cheeks, loving the feeling of him in your mouth before he's cumming down your throat. you take him to the hilt once more, swallowing around him as he cums. "fuck, fuck i love it when you do that," he chants, keeping you pressed against his skin as he rides out his high.

he sighs, releasing his grip, and you sit back on your heels, "was that okay?" you asked, voice hoarse from the abuse your throat just took. he scoffed at you, "more than okay," he assured, helping you off your knees. "now let's take care of you, darling," he said, pushing your sweat pants down so you could kick them off. "gorgeous," he murmured, taking in the view of your body, "fuck. i am lucky," he says, mainly to himself, before reaching out to touch you. you gasped at the feeling of his hands on you, something you may never get used to.

he patted the counter, signaling for you to hop up there, gripping your waist as you do so, helping you the rest of the way up, before laying you down, and spreading your legs. he leans forward, taking no time to get his mouth on you, sucking a hickey onto your thigh, moving to your hip, leaving light teeth marks as he nips at your skin in such as way that makes your heart stutter. "danny, please," you manage to whimper out, he looks up at you with dark eyes, "please what, darling? use your words, i know you can," he growled. you bit your lip to hold back a moan. "don't hold back love, i want to hear all your noises. so sweet, could make a playlist out of 'em," he teased, you could feel his breath puff against your skin. "need your mouth," you pleaded, eyes slipping shut. "good job, baby. i knew you could do it, so good for me always," he praised before finally tipping down and swiping a tongue across your clit. you couldn't help the surprised moan that escaped your lips. you keened high and airy as he moved lower, slipping his tongue into your hole, nose bumping lightly into your clit, giving you just enough sensation to make it a little unbearable. "fuck, fuck, fuck," you chanted, effectively egging him on.

he slipped a few fingers into you, curling up as he pressed them inside, tongue still sliding between your folds, swirling around your clit. "feel good, baby?" he asked, fingers still working inside you. "uh huh," you whimpered, clenching around him, trying to get that amazing friction. "please," you begged, hips wiggling, working towards your high. "please, what?" he asked, almost teasingly, you groaned, "fuck, please make me cum danny, i need it, fuck, fuck!" you grunted, feeling the way his tongue latched onto your clit, fingers thrusting roughly, other hand splayed across your stomach.

"danny, shit, i'm close," you warned, soft moans slipping out in rythym with his fingers thrusting inside of you. he replaced his fingers with his tongue once more, fingers circling around your clit, "cmon baby, cum for me," he whispered, at that was it. your orgasm hit you like a punch to the gut, you let out a loud moan as your orgasm tore through you. "fuck! daddy!" you cried as he kept his mouth on you as you rode out your high. he slowed his movements as you came down, both of your chests heaving from the effort.

you sat up a little to look at him, laughing a little breathlessly. you flicked your eyes over to the lunch that had been abandoned on the table, before he grabbed your chin, turning your head back to him. "ah ah, i'm not done with you yet," he said, pulling your hips closer to the edge of the counter. he shifted just a little before slipping his length into you. "fuck," you gasped out, not expecting it to be that quick. you sat up a little more, pressing yourself to his chest, legs hooking around his back, pulling him deeper.

you reveled in the way you stretched over his length, moans falling freely from your lips as his mouth returned to your neck.

"not gonna last long this time baby," he grunted out, whimpering each time he thrusted into you, "me either," you said, stomach already tightening once more as you came close to your second high. he hurried his thrusts, slamming into you roughly in just the right way. you tightened your legs around him as he quickened his rhythm, "shit baby, gonna cum," he whispered moving to pull out, but your legs kept him from moving "want it in me, please," you gasped, one of your hands moving to circle around your clit. "shit," he gasped out, thrusting sharply a few time before spilling into you. the feeling of his cum filling you up was the final thing you needed to reach your second orgasm of the night, crying out as you came on his length, legs finally dropping from around him, feeling the wetness from both of you dripping down your thighs.

you rested your head against his chest, listening to his heart beat as you both came down from your orgasms. you felt a little empty as he slipped out of you, laughing a little at the way his eyes widened at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. "shit, we gotta do that again," he said breathlessly, before breaking out into laughter. you couldn't help but join him, "i guess i should make you lunch more often," you giggled, leaning forward to press another kiss to his lips.

"that was fun," you sighed as you hopped down from your position on the counter, you looked around at the mess before you, both from cooking lunch, and the meal danny just had. "i've gotta clean this up now," you breathed, looking back towards danny, a gentle smile on your face.

he shook his head, "nah, baby. i'm gonna run you a bath, and while you're soaking and relaxing, i'm going to clean the kitchen. you work just as hard as me," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "i'm so lucky," you sighed, repeating his words from earlier, giggling as he nodded in agreement. he pulled you towards the bathroom, pulling you in front of him so he could smack your bare ass once more. you shook your head at him, watching as he bounced around the bathroom, filling the bathtub for your soak.

as you stepped in to the warm water, he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, "when you're done we'll eat the beautiful lunch you made, okay? see you down stairs," he smiled warmly, before leaving you to your bath.

it couldn't get much better than this.


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3 weeks ago

it’s 2028. trump is dead. elon is dead. zuckerberg is dead bezos is dead they’re all dead

11 months ago
Mornings Like These | Jake Kiszka X GN!Reader

Mornings Like These | Jake Kiszka x GN!Reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff || Words: 716

You and jake share a quiet morning together.

-

You blinked the sleep from your eyes, rolling over to see Jake still bundled up in the covers, his long dark hair askew. You sighed, letting a gentle smile spread across your face. You sat up, peering towards the large window adjacent to your shared bed, the sun streaming in, casting a soft glow against the features of the room.

These were your favorite kinds of mornings, when you wake up before Jake and can watch the way the stress fades from his face as he sleeps. He was always so stressed about the tour, wanting it to be perfect, and you appreciated the moments where he could be calm, quiet, and let the lines relax from his face.

Moments pass, and you relish in the peace of the morning, while Jake starts to shift. Turning over, he gives you a lazy smile, eyes half lidded, feature soft. “G’morning beautiful.” He mumbles before lifting up to place a sweet kiss on your lips. You rest your palm against his cheek, “Morning baby, what do you want to do today?” you ask, keeping your voice soft to break the quiet ambience of the morning. He flops back onto his pillows, letting out a hum, “How about… We stay in bed, and you let me hold you.” He says, before moving to bury his face in your neck, you let out a surprised laugh at the soft kisses he leaves there, loving the way his arms feel around your waist.

"Well, if that’s what you really want,” You giggle out, wrapping your arms around him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. You lay there, holding each other for who knows how long, savoring the feeling of being in each other's arms.

The quiet morning is ruined by a loud grumble from Jake’s stomach, forcing laughter from the both of you. You sit up, pushing your hair into somewhat of a cohesive style, before stretching until you get a satisfying pop from your back. You sigh, casting a glance at Jake, who's buried himself under the covers again. You pat the man-shaped lump in the bed as you stand, “C’mon babe, I’ll make you breakfast,” You say, leaving the room and walking towards the kitchen. Jake followed close behind, not bothering to fix his behead.

He flops down onto a chair at the kitchen table, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You rummage around the kitchen, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet, pouring the cereal and filling the bowl with milk. You cross, placing Jake’s bowl in front of him, “Your favorite, my specialty, Cinnamon toast crunch,” you laugh, sitting down in your own chair across from him. You watch as he loads an obscene amount of cereal onto his spoon, shoveling it into his mouth all at once. “This is great babe,” He says, words garbled from the food, milk dripping down his chin. You scoff at him, wrinkling your nose at his habits, “Ew, Jake.” You laugh, before taking your own bite, he pulls a face at you, making you snort, effectively shooting cereal milk out of your nose.

You laugh, coughing and sputtering on the meal, trying to catch your breath as Jake cackles at you. “You should’ve seen your face!” He squeals between laughs, he slams his hand down on the table as he calms down. “Sorry, that was great, y/n, truly.” He cries, wiping fake tears from his eyes. You shake your head at him, wiping the stray milk from your face.

You grimace, “Cinnamon toast crunch doesn’t taste as good when it’s coming out your nose,” this causes Jake to start laughing all over again, you ignore him and finish your cereal before it kills you.

As Jake eats, you reach your hand across the table, feeling his hand slide into yours. “I love mornings like these,” you say, looking at him with all the adoration you can muster, hoping your expression get across your true feelings. “I love them, almost as much as I love you,” He says, smile cheesy and full of joy. You purse your lips at him, “you’re such a sap,”

“I guess that's why you stick around, huh?”

You roll your eyes at his dad joke, you’ll never get tired of mornings like these

10 months ago

This is so adorable omgggg

There's A Smoocher On The Loose! 💋
There's A Smoocher On The Loose! 💋

There's a smoocher on the loose! 💋

8 months ago
Cover By @no-other-mashter

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.

11 months ago
GVF And Crying!reader

GVF and crying!reader

warnings: just a touch of angst

Josh

You've had a terrible day.

From people pissing you off at work, to spilling your lunch on the floor, to the grocery store being out of the one thing you needed, the only thing you stopped for.

So when Josh called and said he'd be home late from the studio, you broke.

"That's fine, see you in a little bit baby," you said, willing your voice not to crack, wiping at your eyes. "Are you okay?" You heard Josh's voice crackled through the speaker, "Yeah," you sighed, not wanting to keep him any longer, "'M okay. I- uh. I'm gonna get started on dinner, Love you." your voice cracked on those last two words, and you hung up before he could say anything else.

You dropped your phone onto the couch cushion next to you, curling in on yourself, and allowing the tears to flow freely down your face. You let out a short sob, wanting nothing more than to be held by Josh, but he was working late, and you felt awful bothering him over something so trivial. So, you sat for what felt like years, hoping you'd be calm by the time Josh did get home.

Through your tears, you didn't hear the front door open, Josh's sudden presence going unnoticed until he spoke. "Baby, what's wrong?"

You jumped at his voice. "Josh?" you croaked, sniffling and wiping your face, "W- I thought you had to stay late?"

"You sounded so upset on the phone, I thought being here with you was more important."

You cracked at this confession, a fresh wave of tears pouring from your eyes. "I just had such an awful day, I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like you needed to come home," you stuttered out, burying your face in your hands.

You felt Josh's palms against your cheeks, "You are the love of my life, I want to be here when you have awful days, to hold you and make you feel better. I came home because I wanted to, because you're worth it." He said gently, eyes shining. You sniffled again, leaning into his touch, letting him hold you like you so desperately needed.

After you calmed down, tears finally stopping, you told Josh about your day, apologizing once more before he stopped you. "Babe, you are allowed to have bad days, do you know how many times you've made me feel better have a shitty day? So many times I've lost count! If me being here to hold you is what makes you feel better, then there's no where I'd rather be. Plus, Sam was getting on my damn nerves. So you really saved me," he teased, making you giggle. "There's that smile," he sighed, before moving to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

"Now, let's order thai food from that place down the street." he said, making you laugh and roll your eyes. How'd you ever get so lucky?

Jake

Jake wasn't one to have over the top emotions, he was a level headed man (most of the time). You were the polar opposite, you suppose that's what made you two perfect for each other. Balance was the thing of like, you know.

Though, you couldn't help but look back on the first time Jake saw you cry.

It was about 3 months after you had officially started dating, putting a label on it, you were his and he was yours. And with comfortability, came arguments. No one said love was easy.

Jake had been coming home late, coming home reeking of alcohol, not bothering to say hello, or even acknowledge your presence. It was a trend you were getting tired of, but when you brought it up to him, it was the same response. "I'm fine babe, you know how you get. Emotions are a little dramatic," He'd say, brushing you off, reacting only in the slightest.

And you'll admit, you were quick to anger, quick to react, really. But for the second week in a row of this behavior, it was really grating on you. You missed the man you met.

So one morning after he came home, smelling like the bar, you struck up a conversation.

"Jake, babe. I- I have to be honest, I'm a little worried about you," you started, voice soft. "Don't be," He said flippantly, not bothering to even glance at you. "Jake, please." You urged, finally catching his attention.

"Are you really that bothered about me going out, y/n? It's not that serious," he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I don't want to start an argument-" you started.

"Fine, then let's just stop here."

"I just-"

"I said, stop."

"Jake-"

"Y/n, ENOUGH."

You gasped at his tone, tears making their way to your eyes. You willed them not to fall, worried at the reaction they'd get from your boyfriend. "I just... I miss you Jake. I-if there's anything I can do..." you trailed, voice wobbling.

He finally looked at you, noticing the way your eyes shined, tears threatening to spill. You blinked, allowing them to stream down your face, looking anywhere but his face.

"Y/n..." His voice was soft.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so. I try so hard to be good to you, and I'm fucking it up. I love you, so much. I- I was scared. I've never-" He paused, voice getting caught in his throat. He sniffled before continuing, "I've never felt this way for anyone before. I don't know... How to do this..." He shook his head, his own tears falling from his eyes.

"I want to be in this with you, Jake. I want all of you, not just what you pretend to be. I love you," you breathed, pulling his body into yours, feeling the way his tears wet the fabric of your shirt.

In that moment, your emotions were equal to each others, and you felt stronger in your relationship ever since that moment.

And you know, that when you cry, so does he. Because even though he doesn't show it, he feels just as deeply as you do. And that's why you two are meant for each other.

Daniel

Danny tended to be an emotional man despite his outward appearance.

He wasn't afraid to laugh or cry in front of you. He only really hid his emotions when he was infront of the crowd. Willing the tears of overwhelming pride not to fall.

You loved this about him, you loved the way he wore his heart on his sleeve, it made you feel like you could too. Still, you seldom cried, and even less so in front of others.

Watching him on stage always made you feel some type of way. But tonight, the first show of the tour, you were beside yourself. The way they all lit up, their smiles enough to light the stage by themselves.

It was a truly beautiful experience.

They went through the show with no mishaps, watching the boys pass out the roses, watching Danny toss his sticks into the crowd. The way the fans rallied around them was heart warming, and you were honored to be a part of it.

For some reason, as Danny exited the stage, you were overcome with the emotion of the show, all the joy, and excitement crashing down on you, tears springing up to your eyes. Danny rushed towards you, pulling you into his sweaty embrace. You couldn't even bring yourself to care about the sweat that dripped off his curls.

He pulled away to smack a kiss on your lips, "did you like the show?" he breathed, that toothy smile gracing his features. You took a deep breath, and gave him a watery smile.

"Babe what's wrong?" worry seeping into his tone, eyes searching yours for an answer.

"I'm just so proud of you," you whispered, voice cracking, "I- I don't know. I just- I love seeing you do what you love, it makes me happy."

He smiled at you, "So... Happy tears?" he asked.

You let out a watery laugh, and nodded, "Yeah, happy tears." You sniffled.

"Good, for a second I was worried I was gonna have to start groveling or something." He teased, making you scoff. "I'm glad you liked the show, babe." He said finally, leaning down to give you another soft kiss, and wiping the stray tears from your face.

Sam

Being clumsy and liking to hike wasn't a great combination. You've tripped over air before, and willingly going to a place full of rocks and holes isn't the best idea.

But you loved to hike! So you and Sam packed Rosie in the car and headed off.

The day started off fine, you taking Rosie and trucking ahead while Sam stayed back a few feet, he'd brought his film camera and wanted to get some photos of the day. So far, you'd made it through with nothing but a stumble, and you got a little too comfortable, a little too confident in your balancing abilities.

You handed Roses leash to Sam and jumped up onto a rock, "Careful, babe!" Sam warned, aiming his camera at you as you posed, capturing a few moments.

You clambered of the rock with no issues, throwing Sam a confident "I'm doing great." But that notion was short lived as you stepped in a slick spot of mud, and promptly met the ground. "Fuck!" you said out of surprise as you fell, the rocky ground cutting into your knees, stinging tears rising to your eyes.

Your ankle twinged as you shifted, "Ah shit, y/n. Don't move, babe," Sam fretted, not noticing your tears. You sniffled as you shifted, tears from pain and embarrassment finally falling, "Y/n? Are you crying? What hurts?" Sam said, kneeling in front of you, Rose rounding to lick you in the face. You sniffled and pushed her away gently. "I'm fine," you muttered, cheeks burning red. You don't know why you were embarrassed, this was a common occurrence, but combined with the pain and the distress of ruining the day.

Sam brushed the stray hairs from your face, "will you tell me why you're crying?" Sam asked, worry etched onto his features. You turned away from his gaze, tears still streaming. "Well. I guess I'll just have to cheer you up," He sighed, standing straight.

You arched your brow at him, "knock knock" he started, and you sighed. "Y/n. Knock. Knock." He insisted. You rolled your eyes, "Who's there?" you croaked. "Babe will ya get the door!" he called, grinning stupidly. You couldn't help but giggle, "That was so stupid, Sam."

"Ah but it made you smile, didn't it?" he sang, thrusting a hand towards you to help you up. You groaned as you stood, rolling your ankle a few times as you did so. "You sure you aren't hurt?" Sam asked, softness seeping into his tone.

You smiled at him, "Yeah, just a couple of scratches, my ankle hurts a bit too but I'll be okay. I was mostly embarrassed." You said with a blush.

"Oh well now that just won't do! We both know I'm the embarrassing one!" he scoffed, looking around. He spotted another hiker down the path a little ways, "Hold on." He said, mischievous glint in his eye.

You watched as he walked up to the hiker "'Scuse me, sir. I really had to go but I'm not sure if I did it quite right... Can you see if there are any stains on my shorts?" He said loudly, causing you to stifle a laugh as the fellow hiker grimaced and sped around him.

"Sam, you are ridiculous." you laughed, smile unwavering. "Well, yeah. I had to get even." He said seriously.

You rolled your eyes fondly, but you knew he'd do anything for you, and you'd do the same in return.


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11 months ago

You know how pirates would have a symbol branded on their hands showing they were a pirate? I figured why not do the same thing, but make it the caravel symbol 🤭

Captain Jake Kiszka, The Most Feared Pirate On The Seas.

Captain Jake Kiszka, the most feared pirate on the seas.

11 months ago
"Occupy My Mind So I Can't Speak"

"Occupy My Mind So I Can't Speak"

Josh Kiszka x Male Reader

Warnings: M/M, degradation kink, spanking, oral (m rec), edging, denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, grinding, bondage, begging, sub Josh, bratty Josh, use of "slut" and "whore", choking (if you squint), cum eating

The stage lights shimmered as Josh strutted across the stage to the music, his energy infectious as he locked eyes with the crowd. His passion for the stage was undeniable; he belonged up there.

It all began innocently enough, with Josh's charismatic charm shining through as he interacted with the adoring fans. Blowing kisses and sharing hugs had always been a part of his act, a way to connect with the audience on a deeper level. But lately it had been different, a subtle shift in the air that hinted at something more.

The kisses were physical and seemed to linger, almost brushing the lips of the fans who reached out to him. Their cheers and screams fueled his daring behavior, emboldening him to push the boundaries further.

As he recognized a fan dressed in an outfit reminiscent of one of his own, a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of Josh's lips. "You're too cute," he playfully remarked. The fan's eyes widened in surprise, a blush dusting his cheeks at the unexpected attention.

"Are you single?" Josh then asked after a double take. He giggled to himself when the fans went wild and the next song began.

Despite the cheers and the pulsing music, Josh knew he was treading into dangerous territory with his playful antics. The thrill of the moment was intoxicating, though, and he paid no mind to any consequences he'd have later.

That was, until later came.

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

Being the partner of a rockstar (and a particularly attractive one at that), you were used to Josh "flirting" with other people. It was part of the job, and something that didn't bother you much anymore.

However, sometimes Josh had a bit too much fun with his antics, and toed the line between "charming frontman" and "desperate whore". It was like a game to him, to see just how far he could go before you inevitably decided enough was enough and put him in his place.

And with how he'd been acting lately, you figured there was no better time to do so then now...

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

"Aw, what's the matter Josh? Can't handle a little bit of suspense? Or... is it foreplay?" You teased, running your fingers down his exposed chest. He bit back a moan, his hips twitching with need.

You had tied his wrists to the headboard, keeping them above his head where he couldn't touch you, or himself. One of his silk scarves was being used as a blindfold, preventing him from knowing what you'd do next.

"C'mon, Y/N, just touch me already," Josh groaned, clearly annoyed with the teasing.

You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his exposed skin and sending a shiver down his spine. Your fingers trailed lightly along his jawline, down his neck, eliciting a low growl from deep within his chest.

"Patience, Josh," you purred.

With deliberate slowness, your touch roamed lower, tracing the contours of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

His body arched instinctively towards your touch, a silent plea for more, for the release of the tension that coiled tightly within him. But you were in control now, and Josh could one get what you gave him.

'Y'know, you've sure been running your mouth a lot lately, Joshua..." You began, dragging your fingertips closer to where he was already leaking onto his tummy, "Flirting with all those people, kissing them, showing yourself off to them... as if I'm not enough for you."

Josh opened his mouth, probably to object, but you shut him up by wrapping a hand around his cock, pulling a moan from him instead.

"Are you a slut, Joshua? I bet you think about what it'd be like to have all of their hands on you, don't you?" Each question was punctuated with a stroke of your hand, just enough to build tension, but not enough to help him reach that tipping point.

"Ah!- No, I just- Mm! I just like the attention!" He gasped out, writhing and clearly aching for more.

"So you're just an attention whore? So desperate for their eyes on you that you'll do anything... You know what that kind of attitude gets you, don't you?" You ask, letting go of his throbbing cock. The warmth of your touch replaced by the chill of the room as you reached up to free him from the headboard, leaving his wrists still bound together.

Just when you thought Josh would give in and listen, that cocky attitude returned, "No, I don't think I know..."

You sighed; it was clear that Josh still wanted to play this game.

"Turn over."

"Make me," Josh's response was petulant, stubborn, a clear indication that he was still willing to test the boundaries you had set.

Oh. So he REALLY wanted to push you.

"Fine then, if that's how you wanna be..."

You wrestled him onto his front, leaving his ass up in the air and his face buried in the pillow.

"You're getting seven swats. I better hear you count each one, or else I'll re-start. Got it?" You say, watching closely as he shuffles into a better position and nods.

The first smack always builds up anticipation. It's unexpected, and he has no idea how hard you were gonna make it. To his credit, he stayed quiet during the first three, only letting shaky numbers cross his lips.

On four, you brought your hand down on his other cheek, surprising him. He whined, arching into the touch.

"F-fuck! Four!"

"Good boy..."

Five and six were fast, one right after the other. You stroked the reddening skin for a moment, soothing it just a bit before bringing your hand down on his ass harder than before.

It was no secret that Josh was loud in bed. Hell, he's posted about it publicly before, no shame to be found. So when he moaned loud enough that you were sure the neighbors probably heard, you weren't surprised.

"Aaah! F-fuck!"

What did surprise you, was his apparent death wish.

"Are you d-done?"

Before Josh could say anything else, he was being manhandled and brought to his knees in front of you beside the bed. He squinted at the sudden change in light as you removed the blindfold, honey brown eyes meeting your own after a moment.

"I think I know a much better use for your mouth instead of talking back to me like a brat," you murmured, your voice low and commanding as you unbuttoned your jeans and pushed them off your hips, along with your boxers.

Without breaking eye contact, you threaded your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly as a warning when he pulled back with a smirk. You guided his head forward, pausing only for a moment.

"If you need to pull away, tap three times, okay?" Your voice was softer now, breaking from the scene to check on him.

"Yeah, I know."

Having confirmed he was still all for this, you gave it to him just how he wanted it, making him gag as you fucked his throat.

Normally, you were careful when Josh sucked you off, not wanting to injure his throat or mess up his singing voice. This time, though, he had a month before the next show, plenty of time to get his voice back. So you went all out. Spit ran down his chin, and when he wasn't gasping and gagging, he was moaning, eyes rolling back when you'd go particularly deep.

Josh Kiszka was beautiful up on stage, there was no denying that. He was in his element in front of a crowd of cheering fans, dressed to the nines in glitz and glamor. But he was also beautiful like this, on his knees, hair a mess and teary eyed as he swallowed you down.

You felt three taps on your ankle, and you let go, watching as he pulled back and gasped in air. His voice was wrecked when he spoke, low and raspy where it usually wasn't.

"Please..." He mumbled, clearly aching to cum.

"Aw, you feeling needy, baby?" You ask, pulling him back up to the bed. You kiss his knees, red from kneeling, before trailing your kisses up his thigh to where he needed you most, "No touching, okay?"

He kept his bound hands above his head as you finally wrapped your lips around his aching length, grinning when he gasped and did his best to not thrust his hips up. As you hummed around him, savoring the taste of his skin, you could feel his impending release hovering on the edge. You traced a path down his throbbing length, teasing a vein along the side of his cock. The sensation was like a jolt of electricity, and, in a moment of weakness, Josh's fingers tangled in your hair.

But you were in control, not him. As soon as he sought to anchor you in place, you pulled away, a smirk playing on your lips as you watched his reaction. Josh's body jerked in response, frustration clear on his face as he was edged once again.

"Tsk-tsk, I said no touching, Josh. You haven't been a good enough boy to earn that yet."

"Just let me fucking cum, Y/N!" He groaned, still whining like a brat.

"You really want that? You think you deserve it?" You ask, an idea popping into your head, "Fine then. Cum whenever you want."

Josh was clearly not expecting the sudden shift, but it didn't matter when you spat into your palm and began jerking him off once more. Having been denied so many times already, the sensation was almost too much to bear.

"C-close! I'm so close!" His voice was strained, a plea laced with desperation. He half-expected you to pull away again, but this time, there was no teasing retreat, no denial of his release. Instead, you maintained the steady rhythm of your hand, driving him relentlessly towards that long-awaited peak.

Josh's head fell back, and his chest heaved with each hitched breath, the flush of arousal spreading across his skin like a wildfire. His hands clenched into fists above his head, fingers flexing with the need to touch, to grasp onto something—anything—to ground himself.

"Fuck! Y/N!"

Josh spilled all over your hand and his tummy, his whole body trembling after being denied so many times. When you kept going after he was spent, Josh realized what you had meant.

"I- I can't go again..." He whined, the pleasure turning into overstimulation.

"Color?"

"Green."

"I think you've got one more in you, Josh..." You reply, pressing a kiss to his lips before climbing into his lap. He had just a moment of respite before you were rutting your cock against his, the sensation pushing you slowly closer to your own peak.

Every nerve in his body was alight, every sense heightened to the point of exquisite torture.Tears ran down his cheeks but his expression was one of pleasure, a silent plea for more, for everything you could give him.

"Y/N, don't stop! I'm so close again! I- I'm gonna cum again!" He babbled, his words melding into a mix of your name and please.

"Cum for me, Josh," you order, watching as he arches his back and lets go, his eyes rolling back into his head. The sight pushes you over the edge as well, your release mixing with his.

You both sat back to catch your breath, drenched in sweat and various other fluids. Josh was limp under you, completely worn out. You took two fingers, dragging them through the mess on his tummy before bringing them up to his lips.

"Open."

He obeyed, opening his mouth. You pressed your fingers into his mouth, grinning when he obediently sucked them clean.

"Good boy, Josh..."

He whines against your fingers, his cock giving one last valiant twitch where it lay soft against him. Once your fingers were clean, you untied his hands, kissing the red marks left on his wrists. You trailed the kisses up to his lips, pulling the covers over you both.

You'd finish cleaning up later. For now, you just wanted to take a nap with your favorite person...


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no-other-mashter - Ash_VanFleet
Ash_VanFleet

23 | She/They | Queer | Current Hyperfixations: GVF, Pirates, and fashion design ~18+ ONLY~

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