#cmpunk fanfic

The air in northern Wisconsin had that late September crispness, the kind that carried both the bite of fall and the last warmth of summer. The trees lining the backroads were just beginning to turn, with hints of gold and red mixed in with the green, and the air smelled faintly of wood smoke.

You were back in your hometown, visiting your family, taking advantage of the stretch of free time your boyfriend actually had for once. Ever since you started dating a couple of years ago, he’d made a point to carve out time for things that mattered, away from arenas, interviews, and the chaos of life in Chicago. You suggested this trip months ago, a little escape from the city, and now the timing finally lined up. The two of you were driving those winding backroads together, windows down to let in the late summer air, finally making good on the promise of a quiet weekend.

You leaned your head against the cool window of Phil’s car as he drove, the hum of the road beneath you steady and calming. He quickly glanced over at you with that small, knowing grin, one hand loose on the wheel, the other reaching over to lace his fingers through yours.

“Not gonna lie,” he said, breaking the silence, “I never pictured myself spending a weekend up north picking apples.”

You laughed softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “What, can’t handle an orchard, city boy?”

“I didn’t say that,” he smirked, leaning back in his seat. “I’m just saying… I’m more used to the city than the north.”

“Well,” you teased, “then this will be good for you. Clear air, no arenas, no traffic. Just you, me, and a fuck ton of apples.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Guess I can deal with that.”

You grinned, squeezing his hand as the car pulled into the gravel lot of the orchard. The crunch under the tires and the sight of rows upon rows of apple trees made your chest feel warm with familiarity. It smelled like childhood, cider, hay, the faint sweetness of donuts drifting from the barn shop up ahead.

“This is it,” you said as Phil parked the car. “I swear it’s the best orchard in Wisconsin. My parents used to bring me here every September.”

He glanced out the window, eyebrow raised at the sprawling fields, the kids running past with baskets bigger than their heads, and the rustic red barn that anchored the whole place. “Not bad,” he admitted, turning the engine off. “Definitely beats Chicago traffic.”

You laughed, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Told you it would.”

Stepping out, the cool air nipped at your cheeks, crisp and clean in a way the city never was. Phil came around the car to join you, slinging an arm casually over your shoulders as you both headed toward the orchard entrance.

“So, what’s the game plan?” he asked. “Grab a basket, climb a tree, and hope I don’t fall and break a bone?”

You bumped his hip with yours, grinning. “Something like that. We pick apples, eat donuts, drink cider, and maybe take home a pumpkin or two for my mom. Very hardcore.”

He smirked, giving your side a squeeze. “Sounds dangerous. Good thing you brought a professional.”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you as you passed him one of the orchard baskets resting on the table out front. Together, you stepped through the wide wooden gates, baskets in hand, and into the neat rows of apple trees. The earth was soft beneath your shoes, the air crisp enough to taste, carrying a sweetness that you swear lingered on your tongue. Branches hung heavy with apples in every shade, ruby red, golden yellow, and bright green.

Phil looked around, tilting his head back to study the branches. “Alright,” he said, adjusting the basket on his arm. “So, what’s the strategy here? Where do we start, ones closest to the ground so I don’t have to climb?”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “You’re tall enough, you’ll be fine. Just don’t drop them all in the dirt.”

He smirked, plucking the nearest apple from a low branch and tossing it lightly in his hand like a baseball. “Like this?”

“Exactly like that,” you said, rolling your eyes, but grinning. “Now put it in the basket before you bruise it.”

Phil obeyed with mock seriousness, carefully setting the apple inside before he shot you a lopsided grin. “See? I’m a natural.”

You wandered further into the row, the leaves rustled gently overhead. Families and couples were scattered throughout the orchard, but somehow it felt like it was just the two of you tucked between the trees. You reached up to grab one just out of reach, your fingers brushing the smooth skin but not quite closing around it.

“Need help?” Phil teased from behind you, clearly amused.

“No, I’ve got it,” you insisted, stretching on your toes. But before you could snag it, he stepped closer, reaching easily over your head to pluck the apple down in one motion.

He held it up between you with a smug little grin. “Guess being tall has its advantages. Long arms.”

You laughed, taking the apple from him and slipping it into the basket. “Show-off.”

“Just trying to impress my girlfriend,” he said, softer now, his eyes were warm as he watched you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The orchard was now quiet around you, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world had slowed down just to let you breathe it in.

You both keep moving down the row, baskets slowly filling with a mix of red and golden apples. The sunlight slipped through the leaves, casting warm patches across the ground. Every now and then, Phil reached up effortlessly and dropped an apple into the basket, while you crouched lower to gather the smaller ones closer to the ground.

“You know,” you said, brushing dirt from your jeans after kneeling, “this would go a lot faster if you weren’t taking your sweet time.”

Phil arched an eyebrow, plucking two apples at once with ease. “Faster isn’t always better,” he mumbled with a smirk, setting them gently into his basket. “Besides, I like watching you work for it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed all the same. “You can be insufferable sometimes.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, leaning casually against a tree trunk, watching you with that lopsided grin that made your stomach flip. “But you love me anyway.”

“Unfortunately,” you teased, though your smile betrayed you.

A little further down, you spotted a tree with branches heavy and low, apples so bright you swear they practically glowed. You hurried ahead, tugging him along by the hand. “Look at these,” you said excitedly, already reaching for the biggest one.

Phil stepped closer, basket swinging from his arm, before he leaned in beside you. “That one looks good,” he agreed, but when you stretched for it, he lifted his hand over yours, plucking it down before you could.

“Seriously?” you laughed, swatting his arm.

He took a dramatic bite right out of it, crunching loudly. “What? Gotta make sure it’s safe.”

You shook your head, laughing as you stole the apple from him and tucked it into your basket. “I can’t believe you.”

“I know,” he chuckled, brushing a quick kiss against your temple before grabbing a few more for his own basket.

For the next half hour, you fell into an easy rhythm, walking, reaching, laughing when one slipped from your fingers and rolled into the grass, or when Phil showed off by stretching high into the branches to grab the ones you couldn’t reach. Your baskets grew heavier, but neither of you seemed to mind, lingering among the trees as though you had all the time in the world.

Once you both agreed that you had enough apples, you grabbed the handle of your basket and lifted it up, the weight a reminder of just how many you managed to collect. Both of you walked to the nearby barn to weigh and pay, Phil carrying his with one hand, like it was nothing, while you struggled to keep your own from tipping.

"Show-off," you muttered again, puffing a strand of hair out of your face.

He only grinned, swinging his basket with an exaggerated ease just to tease you. “I offered to carry both.”

“And I said no,” you shot back, stubbornly tightening your grip. “I can handle it.”

By the time you reached the barn, your arms were aching, but you kept your chin up. Phil caught the way your shoulders sagged, and before you could protest, he slipped the basket from your hands and dropped it onto the wooden scale with a solid thud.

The air inside the barn smelled of hay, fresh apples, and cinnamon. Sunlight streamed through the wide doors, catching dust motes in golden streaks. The woman behind the counter glanced between the two of you with a knowing smile. “You two picked some great ones,” she said warmly, jotting the weight down on her notepad.

By the time you reached the car, you swore your arms felt like they were going to fall off. Phil popped the trunk and slid both baskets inside with ease, dusting his hands off on his jeans before shutting it with a thud.

He leaned against the bumper, catching his breath for a moment before flashing you a grin. “Alright. Apples secured. Now…” He straightened up and nodded back toward the barn. “Cider and donuts. Deal’s a deal.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re really stuck on that, huh?”

“What can I say? Priorities,” he shot back, stepping close and nudging your arm with his. You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes catching on the narrow dirt path that snaked off from the edge of the lot, disappearing into a patch of woods. The sight tugged at something familiar, a memory. 

“Actually…” you mumbled, pointing. “See that trail? I used to walk it all the time when I was a kid. Before cider, we should go down there. Just for a little bit.”

Phil followed your gaze, squinting like he was sizing up. “What’s back there? Bears?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, just trees and quiet. It kind of feels like stepping into another world.”

He studied you for a moment, that soft smile tugging at his lips. “Alright. Lead the way, then.”

You reached for his hand, tugging him along as you headed toward the trail. The crunch of gravel shifted to the soft rustle of dirt and fallen leaves beneath your shoes, the orchard sounds fading the further you went. It felt like slipping into the past, into the same woods you used to explore when you were small, only now with Phil’s hand in yours.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t an awkward silence, it was more like the kind that settled easily, filled with the rhythm of your steps and the faint brush of Phil’s thumb against your hand. You stole a glance at him, he looked more relaxed than you had seen in a long time, shoulders loose, eyes softened by the quiet.

“You were right,” he murmured after a while. “It does feel like another world.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Told you.”

He stopped then, pulling you gently towards him. The world narrowed down to the quiet woods, the filtered sunlight, the warmth of his body against yours. His eyes lingered on you, and for a moment, it felt like time itself slowed, leaving just the two of you in the stillness.

“You know…” he mumbled, voice low, “I could get used to this. Just… being here with you.”

You stepped a little closer, your fingers curled around his. “Me too.”

There was a pause, a moment suspended between breaths, and then Phil leaned in. Your heart raced as his lips found yours, gentle at first, warm and sure. The kiss deepened slightly, just enough to feel the pull between you without breaking the quiet magic of the woods.

You pulled back slightly from the kiss before turning your head just enough to glance ahead. Sunlight spilled through the trees, and you noticed a small clearing up ahead, framed by a ring of slender birch trunks. The grass there was soft and speckled with tiny wildflowers, the perfect little patch of quiet hidden away from the world.

Phil followed your gaze, his eyebrows lifting. “Looks… peaceful,” he murmured, his hand tightening around yours.

You nodded, a small smile tugged at your lips. “It’s exactly like I remember it. Nobody comes here, just the trees, the sunlight… and us, if we want.”

He grinned before stepping a little closer so your shoulders brushed. “Us, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, brushing a stray leaf from his sleeve. “Us.”

The clearing seemed to invite you both in, a soft, private world tucked into the woods. It was almost whimsical, really. You let him lead you forward, hand in hand, feeling the crunch of leaves underfoot give way to the gentle softness of the grassy patch. The intimacy of the woods wrapped around you like a blanket, the kiss from moments ago was still warm on your lips. 

The soft grass in the clearing looked very inviting, and without a word, you sank down onto it, patting the spot beside you. Phil followed immediately, lowering himself carefully onto his side so he was facing you. For a long moment, you two just lay there, letting the quiet of the woods settle around you.

You tilted your head, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, letting your fingers linger against his temple. “This is nice,” you whisper, voice low, almost afraid to break the calm.

Phil reached out, tucking his hand under your cheek, his thumb gliding lightly along your jaw, tracing the line with a careful gentleness. “Yeah… it is,” he said softly, his eyes locked on yours, slow and steady.

You felt the rhythm of his breathing as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours again, soft, lingering, and deliberate. This kiss was slower, sweeter, like you were both savoring the space between you. Your hand rose to rest over his heart, fingers spreading just enough to feel the steady, reassuring beat beneath your palm.

Phil shifted slightly, moving closer beside you. His other hand brushed along your arm, fingertips grazing your skin in a way that makes a small shiver run through you. The two of you were laid out tangled in the grass, sunlight and shadow painting warm patterns over your skin, the smell of leaves and earth thick around you.

Without thinking and not much hesitation, you rolled onto him, straddling his hips, your knees pressing lightly against the soft ground. Phil groaned softly, eyes widening just a fraction before he closed them, leaning up to meet you.

You dove into another kiss, this time harder now, more urgent. Your lips pressed firmly against his, teeth grazing lightly, tongues brushing in a teasing dance. Your hands tangled in his hair, thumbs pressing into the nape of his neck, fingers slipping along his shoulders, tracing the planes of muscle beneath his hoodie.

Phil responded immediately, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his hips pressing upward slightly beneath yours. Every movement, every shift of weight, sent a pulse of heat between you. The soft grass beneath you muffled your movements, but the dappled fall sunlight and the forest around you faded entirely. There was only the press of your bodies, the quickening of his heartbeat beneath your palm, and the rhythmic press of your lips against his.

Phil tilted his head, deepening the kiss, lips moving hungrily against yours. His hands trailed down your back, sliding to the curve of your hips, tugging you closer with an almost desperate need. You arched into him, matching his movements, grinding slowly against the hardness of his body, letting every brush and press drive the tension higher.

The chill in the air was long forgotten, replaced by the heat radiating off your bodies and ragged breaths mixing. You felt him stiffen beneath you, pulse racing, every exhale rough and heavy.

Finally, you pulled back just slightly, foreheads pressed together, lips still brushing. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Phil muttered. You smirked against him, leaning in to press another hard, teasing kiss to his lips.

“Maybe,” you whispered, letting your hands roam along his chest, “maybe I’ve been waiting for you.” Phil froze for a second, his hands still on your waist, his eyes darting around the clearing. 

“Wait… here?” he said, a mix of surprise and disbelief in his voice. You grinned, leaning down just enough to press a teasing kiss to his jaw. 

“Why not? It’s private. Nobody’s here. Just us.” 

Phil swallowed, a flush rising in his cheeks. His hands tightened slightly, as if holding you close kept him grounded. “I mean… yeah, I guess… but the grass...and it’s pretty chilly out here…maybe we should wait until we get back?”

You shrugged playfully, tilting your head to press another firm, heated kiss to his lips. “You like it,” you murmured against him. “Don’t act like you don’t.” 

Phil exhaled, a soft groan slipping past him, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. “Yeah… I like it,” he admitted, voice thick with certainty. “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel like I was 16 again.”

You laughed softly, nipping at his lower lip before soothing it with your tongue. "Then stop talking and show me," you purred, rolling your hips just enough to make his breath hitch. Phil didn’t hesitate this time. His hands slid up your back, fingers dipping under your shirt, warm and rough against your skin. His mouth found yours again, hungrier now, lips pressing harder as his tongue swept inside. The taste of him was almost intoxicating, coffee and mint, something you’d been craving since moments ago when you first kissed him. You quickly arched into him, pressing your chest against his, feeling the rapid flutter of his heartbeat beneath his clothes. "We'll have to be quiet," you said, breaking the kiss and unbuttoning your jeans. 

Phil's breath caught audibly at your words, his fingers stilling on your back for a second before continuing their slow, exploratory path upward. "Quiet... right," he grumbled, his voice rough with restrained excitement. His eyes darted to the treeline beyond the clearing, scanning for any movement or sound that might have suggested you two were not alone.

You smirked, rolling off of him until your back touched the grass, then slid your jeans down your legs until they bunched at your ankles. Phil's eyes followed the movement, darkening as they settled on your exposed skin. His breathing had gone ragged already, his fingers twitching against your hip before he pushed himself up onto his knees. You saw the war play out across his face, want and hesitation, urgency and caution. The second his hands landed on your thighs, pressing them apart, you knew he had decided. His gaze locked with yours, and his grip tightened, thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin just above your knees. 

"Fuck," he breathed, eyes intense as they moved over your body. His other hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his kiss. As his lips crashed against yours, your hands wandered down his chest, tracing the lines of his body until they reached his waist. Fingers curling around the hem of his jeans, you tugged lightly before unfastening the button.

Phil shivered under your touch, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, pressing you back into the soft earth as his tongue tangled with yours. His hands roamed down your sides, fingers pressed into the dip of your waist before sliding lower, fingertips teasing at the waistband of your panties. A sharp intake of breath caught in his throat when your nails scraped lightly over the hard planes of his abdomen. "Quiet," you purred against his lips, feeling the pulse at his neck hammering beneath your fingers. "Or the whole forest will know how much you want this."

Phil exhaled a ragged laugh, shaking his head before pressing another heated kiss to your lips. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, sliding lower, brushing over the already damp skin between your thighs. You gasped against his mouth, back arching slightly as his fingers found your clit, circling with just the right amount of pressure.

His thumb continued in slow, teasing circles while two fingers slowly pressed inside you, stretching and filling you in the best way possible. The rhythm was slow at first, allowing you to adjust, but when he heard the soft moan you bit back, he picked up the pace.

"I need you," you moaned, now unzipping his unbuttoned jeans and tugging at the hem. Phil let out a shuddering breath as you pulled him closer, his fingers still working inside you while he shifted to accommodate your movements. He was hard already, his cock pressing against the front of his underwear, straining to get free. You pushed the fabric down just enough to wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly at first, then with more purpose as he groaned against your neck.

"Fuck," he hissed, hips jerking slightly into your grip. His fingers moved faster inside you, curling just right to hit that spot that made your vision whiten at the edges. His mouth found yours again, swallowing your moans as his thumb flicked over your clit.

You bit your lip to hold back a moan, seizing his wrist and pulling his hand away. "Fuck me right here," you whispered, your breath ragged as you pushed yourself up and tugged his sweatshirt higher. Leaning in slowly, you pressed soft, lingering kisses against his stomach, just beneath the ink of his ‘Straight Edge’ tattoo.

Phil sucked in a sharp breath as your mouth traced the words on his skin. His hips rocked instinctively, cock brushing against your inner arm, already leaking from how badly he wanted you. "You're killing me," he muttered, fingers tightening on your waist as you licked a slow stripe along the tattoo.  You smirked up at him, taking your free hand and stroking him as your other hand wrapped around his waist. 

“Take me slow and here.” 

Phil's pupils dilated when you said the words, his breathing growing even more ragged as he gently pressed you down and positioned himself between your thighs. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped your hips, thumb pressing into the soft skin above your hipbone. "You're so fucking perfect," he growled, his voice rough with want as he guided himself to your entrance. His grip on your hips tightened as he pushed forward, sliding in inch by agonizing inch. Your back arched off the ground, a silent gasp escaping your lips as he filled you completely. His breath caught as he sheathed himself fully inside you, forehead dropping to yours as he gave himself a second to steady.

Phil exhaled shakily, lips brushing against yours. "Fuck you feel so good,” he moaned out. He pulled back just slightly before thrusting again, deeper this time, drawing a sharp breath from both of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle as he moved, setting a slow, deliberate pace. His mouth quickly found your neck, kissing and biting softly at the sensitive skin there as his hips rolled against yours.

"Fuck," you breathed, trying your hardest to stay quiet. Your hand slipped down from Phil's shoulder, sliding beneath his hoodie to feel the taut movement of his chest as he drove into you. Phil groaned softly at your touch, his skin burning under your fingertips as his thrusts grew more urgent. The sweat on his neck glistened in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, muscles straining with the effort of holding back. He changed the angle slightly, causing you to bite your lip hard to keep from crying out.

"You like that?" he murmured against your ear, hips rolling in a slow, deep circle that made your toes curl. “You like it when I fuck you out here like this, knowing someone could hear?” 

You nod, breathless, your nails dragging down his back when he hit just the right spot. “F-fuck yeah, just like that, just—" You gasp as he pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing firm circles in time with his thrusts. The combination of the stretch and the pressure had your vision whiting out for a second, your entire body tensing as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach. Phil groaned low in his throat when he felt you clench around him, his movements faltering for just a second before he redoubled his efforts. His hips snapped forward harder now, skin slapping against skin as he fucked you with relentless intensity in the grass.

"Cum for me, baby, I’m so close," he whispered into the crook of your neck, thrusting deeper. Your head fell back against the grass as release soon crashed over you in waves. You clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling the moans as pleasure tore through your body. 

Your climax dragged Phil with you, his teeth sinking into his lip as he fought to choke back his own sounds, spilling deep inside you. He nearly collapsed against you, bracing his arms in the grass to keep from crushing you. Lowering his gaze, he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face and exhaled a shaky sigh.

"I don’t think I expected this today," Phil chuckled breathlessly as he eased out of you, shifting back onto his knees.

The clearing seemed to breathe with you both, leaves rustling overhead, birds calling in the distance, sunlight spilling through the branches in dappled gold. Your body still buzzed with aftershocks, the sharp scent of sweat, musk, and sex heavy in the crisp autumn air, intoxicating.

“Me neither,” you laughed softly, tugging your panties and jeans back into place as your pulse slowly steadied.

"That was… fuck, I don’t even have the words right now," Phil admitted with a crooked grin, dragging his boxers and jeans back on.

He raked a hand through his hair, his chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths. He glanced at you, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Christ… you really do know how to surprise me.”

You smirked, buttoning your jeans and tugging your sweater back down over your stomach. “You didn’t exactly complain.”

He laughed quietly, shaking his head as he leaned back on his hands in the grass. “Guess the forest got its own show today,” he teased, voice low and still a little breathless.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. The world felt sharper now, the intimacy still clung to both of you, heavy.