perhaps you could do dave and james in the 90s, fighting over a girl, then she ends up with dave? fluff, smut and dave being all shocked and a bit insecure, considering his past with james? <3
It started like most nights did back then: music too loud, beer bottles scattered around, and the tang of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. I had always felt a little out of place in their world, like I was straddling some invisible line between awe and mischief. But there I was, caught between Dave and James, two titans of rock, and two men who couldn't be more different if they tried.
James had that easy confidence, the kind of swagger that came naturally to someone who’d been worshipped since his early twenties. He was charming, quick-witted, and devastatingly handsome in a rugged, all-American way. He made flirting seem effortless. Meanwhile, Dave… he was more of an enigma. There was a darkness to him, an edge that could either cut you or pull you in closer. He was magnetic, yes, but also a little volatile. And God, did he know how to brood.
I hadn’t planned on becoming a point of contention between them. Hell, when I first met them, I thought I was invisible in their eyes, just another face in the crowd. But something shifted over time. The way James’ hand would linger on my back when he told a joke. The way Dave’s piercing eyes would track my movements when he thought no one was looking. It was like walking a tightrope between two storms, each one threatening to pull me under in its own way.
It all came to a head one night after a show. The afterparty was winding down, the crowd thinning out until it was just the three of us in the dimly lit living room of some rented house. I was perched on the arm of the couch, nursing the last of my drink, when James sat down beside me, his arm slinging casually over my shoulders. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smoke in the air, making my head spin slightly.
“You know,” he drawled, his breath warm against my ear, “Dave’s been staring at you all night. I don’t blame him.”
I glanced over at Dave, who was leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes met mine for a brief moment before he looked away, his jaw clenching so hard I thought he might crack a tooth.
“I think you’re imagining things,” I replied, trying to keep my voice light, even as my pulse quickened. James’ thumb traced absent circles on my shoulder, and I could feel the weight of Dave’s silence pressing against my chest. The air felt thick with tension, and I wasn’t sure if it was intoxicating or suffocating—maybe both.
“Am I?” James smirked, leaning in closer. His lips brushed against my cheek, dangerously close to crossing a line. My heart was pounding, but before I could decide how to react, Dave’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
“Alright, that’s enough.”
I looked up to see him striding across the room, his movements sharp and deliberate. He grabbed James’ wrist, pulling it away from me with more force than necessary.
“She’s not some prize to fight over,” Dave snapped, his voice low and taut with barely restrained anger. His face was flushed, his eyes blazing with something raw and unguarded.
James raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Dave’s reaction. “Calm down, man. Just having a little fun.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe you should find someone else to have fun with,” Dave shot back, his eyes flicking to me before quickly darting away.
The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, and for a moment, I thought they might actually come to blows. But then James backed off, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone.” He stood, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary before he sauntered out of the room, leaving me alone with Dave.
The silence that followed was heavy, almost deafening. I set my drink down, suddenly hyper-aware of the way Dave was pacing the room, his hand running through his hair in frustration. I could see the strain in his shoulders, the way he was holding himself back, and my heart ached at the sight of it.
“Dave,” I said softly, but he didn’t look at me.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered, his voice rough. “James is… well, you know how he is.”
“It’s not James I’m worried about,” I replied, standing and taking a tentative step toward him. “It’s you.”
His head snapped up at that, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “Me?”
“Yeah, you,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm of nerves swirling inside me. “You’ve been acting like… like you don’t even want to be in the same room as me half the time. And then tonight, you… you step in like you…”
“Like I what?” he challenged, his voice rising slightly. There was a sharp edge to his tone, but I could see the vulnerability behind it, the cracks forming in his armor.
“Like you care,” I finished, my voice barely above a whisper.
That seemed to knock the wind out of him. He stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled sharply. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable than I’d ever heard it.
“Of course I care,” he said, his gaze locking onto mine. “I care so much it’s… it’s fucking terrifying. You think it’s easy watching James flirt with you? Watching him act like he can just… take you, like it’s some kind of game?”
“No, let me finish,” he said, taking a step closer. “You have no idea what it’s like to… to feel like you’re not good enough. Like someone else is always going to be better, funnier, more… more everything. And then you show up, and suddenly it’s like… like maybe I could have something good for once. But then James swoops in, and I… I don’t know how to deal with that.”
His words hung heavy in the air, raw and unfiltered. My heart ached at the vulnerability etched across his face, the way his usual bravado had crumbled to reveal the man underneath. I swallowed hard, trying to reconcile the man in front of me with the one who had made me feel invisible for so long. "Then why," I asked softly, my voice trembling, "did you make me think you didn’t like me? Why did you pull away like that?"
He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair as if he was trying to steady himself. "You don’t get it," he muttered, his voice rough and low. "You think I’ve been acting like I don’t want you around? You’re wrong. I want you here so bad it… it scares the hell out of me."
I froze, his words sinking in like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place. He hesitated, glancing at me before looking away again, his jaw tightening. "I’ve messed up so much in my life, and the thought of screwing this up with you… it’s like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. Every time I want to say something, I think, 'What if I ruin it? What if I’m not good enough for her?' So yeah, maybe I pull back, but it’s not because I don’t care. It’s because I care too much."
His voice cracked on the last words, and he finally looked at me, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that hit me like a wave. I stepped closer, my heart aching for the man in front of me. "Dave, you… you don’t have to be afraid of that," I said softly. "I’m not asking for perfect. I don’t want to be perfect. I just want you. And you don’t have to hold back anymore. I’m here because I want to be. With you."
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at me like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Slowly, I saw the tension in his shoulders ease as he took a shaky breath. "You mean that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, stepping even closer until I could feel the warmth radiating from him. "Yeah," I murmured. "I mean it."
You’ve already got my heart, even if you don’t think you deserve it.”
His eyes searched mine, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek. The touch was so gentle, it made my breath hitch.
Something in him seemed to break then. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his lips met mine in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and tenderness. It was like he was pouring every unspoken word, every hidden fear, into that moment, and I kissed him back just as fiercely, wanting to show him that he didn’t have to fight for my attention anymore. His lips were soft, yet insistent, and I could feel the tension in his body slowly melt away as he held me close.
When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin. His hands lingered on my waist, grounding both of us in the moment.
“You’re going to have to be patient with me,” he murmured, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. There was a softness in his eyes now, a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see.
“Good thing I’m stubborn,” I replied, grinning up at him.
Dave pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on my waist as he gazed into my eyes, the softness in his expression still a little uncertain. His fingers gently brushed a strand of hair from my face, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You know," he said, his voice low and teasing, "I think it’s time you go home with me."
I raised an eyebrow, my pulse quickening, though I kept my expression light. "Is that so?" I asked, my lips curling into a grin. "And why would I do that?"
His smile deepened, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his eyes. "Because you’re not the only one who's stubborn. And maybe you deserve to see how things feel when they’re done right."
I chuckled, the sound soft and warm, as the butterflies in my stomach fluttered wildly. "You think so?" I asked, my voice more playful than I'd expected it to be.
"Yeah," he murmured, leaning in just enough to brush his lips against my temple. "I think we’re both ready for the next step."
I could hear the sincerity in his voice, but there was also an undeniable shift—a quiet intensity that wasn’t there before. The chemistry between us had always been there, but now it felt like it was almost magnetic, pulling me toward him in ways that left me breathless. It was clear that neither of us was ready to pull back anymore.
I nodded, my lips pressing together as I felt the heat rise in my chest, matching the warmth in his hands. "Alright," I said softly, my voice steady, though my heart was racing. "Let’s go."
Without another word, he led the way, his hand slipping into mine as we left the dimly lit room behind. The air outside was cool against my skin, and I could feel the subtle hum of anticipation building in my veins as we walked to his car. Dave didn’t speak, but I could sense his energy—there was a quiet storm behind those dark eyes, one that seemed to mirror my own feelings.
As the door clicked shut behind us, the world outside seemed to fade away. The air in Dave's house felt heavy with anticipation, every touch between us like a spark, igniting something deeper.
He didn’t waste a second, his lips finding mine again, this time with a hunger that hadn’t been there before. His kiss was slow, deep, as though he was savoring the feeling of me—his hands tracing the line of my jaw, down my neck, sending shivers through me. I could feel the heat building between us, but it was a gentle burn, something that made my breath hitch and my body lean into him, needing more.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered between kisses, his lips brushing my cheek, then trailing down to my neck, where his mouth lingered, kissing me softly, tenderly. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone like this.”
I closed my eyes, feeling his breath warm against my skin, the feeling of his hands exploring me making my pulse quicken. He slid one hand around to my back, pulling me closer, pressing his chest to mine. My body responded instinctively, my hands threading into his hair, tugging him closer, desperate for more of him.
His lips found mine again, this time with a growing urgency, his kiss deepening, the need between us growing stronger. His hands moved lower, sliding down my sides, grazing the sensitive skin of my waist, making me gasp into his mouth. He pulled away slightly, his eyes dark with desire, but there was something in them—something gentle, like he was asking for permission.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “I want to make you feel so good, like you’ve never felt before.”
The way he said it made me shiver, the tenderness mixed with that raw, smoldering heat. I could feel myself melting into him, the tension between us building with every soft touch, every whispered word. I nodded, my heart racing as his hands traced the curve of my waist, then slid slowly up, caressing the sides of my ribs, feeling the rise and fall of my breath.
“I need you,” I whispered back, my voice barely audible, but full of need.
His lips curled into a soft smile, and for a moment, he just looked at me, his hands resting on my hips, grounding me as his gaze softened. “You have me,” he whispered, his voice like a promise.
And then, as if some invisible barrier had been lifted, he moved with a quiet confidence, gently pushing me toward the bed, his lips trailing a slow path from my mouth to my neck, then lower, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin of my collarbone. I gasped, my body arching toward him, urging him on.
“Dave,” I breathed, the sound of his name a plea on my lips. I felt him smile against my skin, his hands slipping under my shirt, slowly lifting it off, his touch burning as he exposed more of my skin to his hungry gaze.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, his fingers grazing the smoothness of my skin, sending sparks of electricity through my body. He kissed me again, softly at first, before his hands moved to my waist, his fingertips brushing the edges of my panties, his touch teasing, making my body hum with anticipation.
He pulled away just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire but soft, full of affection. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered, his lips brushing against mine, just enough to leave me aching for more.
I shook my head, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. “I want you, Dave,” I breathed, my voice filled with longing.
The way he looked at me—like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment—was all I needed. He kissed me again, deeper this time, and with a deliberate slowness, he undid the button of my jeans, his fingertips grazing the skin of my stomach as he slowly worked them down my legs. I shivered, not from the cool air, but from the heat of his touch, the way he was making every inch of my skin burn with need.
“God, you’re killing me,” he muttered, his lips trailing down my body, kissing each inch of exposed skin with worshipful tenderness, his hands now exploring me with more confidence. When his lips finally reached the top of my thigh, he paused, looking up at me with a smile that was both devilish and gentle.
“I want to hear you,” he whispered, his voice low, teasing. “Tell me what you want.”
My heart raced, my chest heaving with anticipation. “I want you to touch me… everywhere,” I breathed, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
He groaned, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, his fingers sliding under the waistband of my panties, teasing me just enough to make me ache for more. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured against me, his voice rough with desire.
And then, he moved lower, his lips and hands tracing every inch of me with an intensity that made my head spin. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, just feeling the warmth of his hands on my skin, the heat of his mouth making my entire body shudder with each tender, possessive touch.
When he finally joined me fully, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the connection between us, the unspoken words, the mutual surrender. His body pressed against mine, moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each motion both tender and full of longing, like he was savoring every second, every moment of us being together.
I kissed him again, this time with all the passion I’d been holding back, and he responded just as fiercely, his hands tracing the curve of my back, holding me close as if he couldn’t bear to let go.
When it was over, the room filled with the sound of our breathing, slow and steady, the intimacy between us palpable. I rested against him, feeling the weight of his arms around me, grounding me, keeping me safe in the afterglow.
As we lay there, the quiet of the room enveloping us, Dave pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go. His breath was warm against the back of my neck, the soft thrum of his heartbeat steady and comforting against my skin.
"Stay here," he whispered, his voice rough with the vulnerability that only seemed to surface when he was this close, when we were tangled together like this.
I turned slightly, my eyes meeting his, and saw the softness in his gaze, the intensity of everything unsaid between us. “I’m not going anywhere, Dave,” I whispered back, my voice steady, full of reassurance.
He didn’t say anything at first, but I felt the tension in his body ease as he pulled me closer, as if drawing me into him wasn’t enough. He wanted to make sure I was there, with him, for as long as he could hold me. His lips brushed my forehead gently, the touch tender and almost reverent.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmured, his voice thick with the weight of the words. “I don’t want this to end.”
I smiled softly, the warmth of his embrace making my chest swell with something that felt like peace. "It doesn’t have to end, Dave. I’m here. I’m right here with you."
With that, he pulled me closer still, his chest rising and falling against my back as he held me, like he was afraid I might slip away if he let go. His hands, gentle but firm, caressed my arms, the skin of my back, as if memorizing the feel of me beneath his touch.
“Promise me,” he whispered, his voice thick, his breath warm against my skin. “Promise me you’ll stay.”
“I promise,” I breathed, closing my eyes as I settled deeper into his embrace, my own arms folding around his, grounding both of us in the moment. His scent, the warmth of his body, it all wrapped around me like a protective cocoon.
And there, in the quiet darkness of his room, we found solace. It wasn’t the kind of promise that needed words to seal it—it was understood in the silence, in the way we held each other. He pulled the covers over us, and for the first time in a long time, I felt truly at peace.
Dave’s arms tightened around me, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart as we drifted into the stillness of sleep. Neither of us spoke again, but I could feel the weight of his feelings in the air between us—something real, something strong.
"I’m not going anywhere, Dave," I whispered one last time before sleep took over, the words a promise that echoed softly in the quiet room.
And with that, we drifted off together, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside forgotten.
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