warnings . jake x reader, use of pet names, minors DNI, 18+ smut, oral (f!receiving), etc.
word count . 3k+
note . hiya! haven’t posted in a while (sorry) but i’m obsessed with raider so here’s a little something inspired by that one line (you know the one)
You woke up first this morning, stretching your limbs and rubbing your eyes as the sun rolled in lazily through the curtains. It's warm, glowing rays creep across the room, just barely hitting the foot of the bed, soon to illuminate the entire room. Your eyes slowly roam to your right, checking on Jake who is still asleep.
His deep, even breaths let you know your night bird won't be up for a while. Even so, you turn onto your side and curl over him, pressing a light kiss to his cheek as to wish him a good morning. He doesn't stir, and it makes you exhale a soft chuckle before moving back to your side of the bed.
Yawning as you push the covers off and swing your legs over the edge of the mattress, you give yourself another soft stretch before setting your feet on the floor and standing. Fall is just beginning to set in, the mornings starting off cold before the sun heats up in the afternoon. A hot cup of coffee is calling your name, so you sneak out the room in Jake's t-shirt and a pair of your underwear. He usually kept the bed warm throughout the night, so there was no need for fuzzy pajama sets, plus he loves seeing you in his clothes. Always has.
Down the hall and through the living room, you make your way to the kitchen.
Mornings were so different from nights here. In the evenings, the house is full of music and noise. Whether it was Jake on guitar, or the record player blasting blues, or your shared voices singing a spontaneous melody together, it was not silent. But when morning comes, the only sound is the mourning dove outside.
You glance out the back doors leading to the deck, overlooking the land as you pass through, making your way to the coffee machine. You move quietly, filling it with water, preparing the grounds, pressing the power button and watching the dark liquid drip drip drip. Soon, the only sound is its gentle brewing, and you become absorbed in the way the pot slowly but surely begins to fill.
After a few minutes, you grab your favorite mug from the cabinet. It's the one Jake bought for you as a Christmas gift in Europe many moons ago. It was a cream color with different hues of red and green and blue painted across it in an intricate pattern. You grab his go-to mug as well, a simple red one thrifted by you before you'd even met each other. Instead of pouring his coffee though, you set it by the machine for him to make himself, knowing he loves his coffee scalding and not wanting it to sit out for too long and grow cold.
So, you make your cuppa, then, slip out the back door to lounge on the deck.
It was just warm enough to enjoy sitting outside in the morning. Fall was right around the corner, but summer was managing to hang on for as long as she can, just like always. You make an effort to spend these mornings outside before you can't anymore. Simultaneously, you can’t wait for the mornings you’re curled up with Jake, sleeping in late just to lay in each other’s warmth beneath a thick quilt.
You aren't alone for too long when the sound of the back door opens and closes, and soft footsteps pad across the wood as Jake approaches you from behind.
"Morning, sweetness," he hums softly, his voice still rough and raspy with sleep.
"Hey," you look up, taking a sip from your mug, "made coffee."
He leans down over the back of the Adirondack while nodding his head, kissing your shoulder, then your neck, then your jaw. You smile, turning your head to capture his lips after he's pecked your cheek.
Jake is always so gentle in the morning, it has to do with him not being awake yet. You don't mind, of course. It was nice to spend quiet mornings with Jake. Almost heaven.
You expect him to slide into the chair next to yours, but instead he walks to the banister across from you and leans his lower back against it. You sip your coffee slowly as your view changes from the acres of misty grass to your man looking far too sinful for such an early hour. Why was he up so soon anyway? He usually wouldn't roll out of bed for another hour unless he had something planned. And as far as you know, nothing is on the calendar.
A pair of black sweatpants sit low on his hips, and an old Gibson shirt with a stretched out neck and holes decorating the sides hangs from his shoulders. His hair, a little tangled from the pillow, falls over the right side of his neck, leaving the left side exposed. You swallow your drink as he rests his palms on the railing behind him, his biceps flexing subtly as he does so, nearly making you choke. He’s gotten a subtle build on him, all that lifting guitars and throwing them behind his head as he shreds will do that a guy.
"Have any dreams last night?" He asks with a hint of mischief in those dark brown eyes of his.
You can always tell when Jake is asking you a question out of genuine curiosity, and when he's asking you a question because he wants you to ask him it back. It's obviously the latter this morning, he tries his best to keep patient but his sleepy features are giving him away. He has something he wants to tell you.
So you shake your head, "Nuh-uh," settling back into your chair, "you?"
"Yeah." He nods, but says nothing more.
He just loves to build up the suspense to a story.
"What about?" You hum with an airiness to your voice.
A smirk crawls across his lips, making you more alert. It makes your face warm and your skin tingle.
"Well," he starts, which is never good, but excites you nonetheless. "I came home and you were lounging, all stretched out, on the couch, reading that one magazine you picked up the other day." He's talking about the copy of Vanity Fair you found with Dakota Fanning on the cover. You frown slightly, wondering what the big deal is, about to ask such, but then he continues, "And I looked away for a second, but when I looked back at you, all your clothes were gone."
Your head tilts back in a cackle that surely makes birds fly from their nests in a panic and squirrels race up tree bark with racing hearts. Jake always knows how to catch you off guard like that, to send you into a fit of laughter that makes your stomach ache. Oh, how he loves that’s laugh of yours, even if you hate how it sounds. To him, it is music. He watches you with a fond grin as you catch your breath, trying to calm yourself down so he can go on with the story.
"Then?" You exhale as you wipe tears from the corners of your eyes.
"Well, I don't have to say much," he pushes himself away from the banister and steps over to you. Once he's close enough to he leans down and sets his hands on the armrests of your chair, hovering over your body as he huskily whispers, "but lets just say, I was a little disappointed to wake up without my girl by my side."
"Jake," you blush, placing your hand on his shoulder as he swoops down and kisses you hot and slow. You kiss him back, but he takes charge, making it to grow heated and heavy.
Your coffee grows cold and forgotten on the wood beneath your feet, and usually that would annoy you if it was anything else serving as distraction right now. Soft sighs and gentle whimpers escape through your lips in between kisses, a longer whine escaping when he decides to spread his kisses up your jawline.
"Should we take this inside?" You whisper, though there is no need to.
The nearest neighbor was ages away. Your home with Jake was extremely private, perfect for moments like that. However, you can't help but feel very exposed when you open your eyes and see the garden and the trees and the morning sky. It felt wrong, and you were hesitant, but you love it all the same. It makes excitement bloom in your chest.
Jake shakes his head, curling a finger into the neck of the shirt you wear so he can tug it down and pepper kisses along your collarbones. "Stay right here. Here is perfect."
You take a deep breath and slowly let it out. He can feel your hesitancy in the way your muscles have stiffened and your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt. So, he lifts his head and leans his face close to yours.
"I'll be quick. You know it doesn't take me long." He winks. You're about to ask what exactly he has planned, but then he's sinking down to his knees, and no explanation is needed.
Your entire body heats up, watching him watch you. The way his eyes trace down your body, he can read you so well. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he notices your hardened nipples through the material before he moves down to your hands anxiously gripping the armrests, then landing on your spread knees. The large shirt has pooled between your thighs, so he smooths his hands up them and pushes the fabric away to get a better look at you.
A throaty groan sounds deep from his chest when he finds out you're wearing the pink cotton pair with the decorative lace trim. You always found it amusing just how much Jake loves you wearing your back up underwear, the kind you buy in a pack of six out of mere convenience. He sighs, spotting the tiny wet patch that's just begun to form on the front, and smirks as his eyes flit to yours.
That knowing gleam in his gaze makes you flush and tuck your chin down toward your chest bashfully. He thought you were the sweetest little thing ever and just couldn't wait to wreck you with his mouth.
It shocked you, early on, when Jake was so insistent on going down on you. No man you'd ever been with before had been so willing, so desperate to get you off with his tongue. But Jake loves it- blames it on his sweet tooth.
You're the thing he craves the most, and he gets just as much satisfaction as you when he eats you out.
Damn was he good too. Almost too good sometimes.
"Love when you wear these," he snaps the elastic of your shorties against your skin, causing goosebumps. "Lift your hips, pretty. Let’s take ‘em off."
You shiver at the pet name, and do as you’re told, like your body is under some sort of spell he's cast. As you press up, he tucks his fingers beneath the cotton and slowly drags them down your smooth legs. You swallow a shaky breath when he sets them aside and you sit back down, nibbling on your bottom lip in an effort to soothe yourself.
His thumbs brush comfortingly over your thighs as he gently separates them, reminding you with reassurance, "It's just us baby."
"I know," you whisper because you really can't trust yourself to speak normally.
"So don't get lost in that pretty head of yours," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee, then to the other. He pulls back, sitting on his heels with his fingers wrapped around your ankles, and tells you, "Look at me."
Your eyes lift to his. They're the same shade, darkened with hunger and desire. You're desperate for him to make you feel good and he's more than ready to get the job done, but he still wants to make sure. He gives you a nod, which you reciprocate by tilting your head back to him. He leans down after that.
"Is this what happened in your dream?" You breathe through a whisper.
"Amongst other things." He grunts, brushing his lips over your inner thighs, sweeping upwards until he's inches away from your core.
You let your eyes shut as the anticipation gets harder to deal with, pressing your mouth together tightly and flaring your nostrils in an effort to calm your breaths. He glances up at you through his eyelashes and you can feel the breath of his laughter fan across your skin.
"Get so tense, every time." He says, surely to himself but your ears pick it up. You almost respond, but he licks a stripe through your center that steals your voice away along with your breath.
You didn't think this is how the morning would go. Looking at Jake asleep in bed, you would have never guessed what was being dreamt behind his eyelids, that he was getting so worked up in his sleep.
He mouths over you lazily, lapping at your wetness and kissing your clit with just enough pressure. Your eyes roll, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. He knows you're holding back, so he shifts his hand up your body beneath your shirt, palming at your breasts and rolling your pebbled nipples between his fingers. The callused tips add a rough sensation to his touch that makes you tremble and shake out a tiny sigh.
He breathes heavily over you, kissing and sucking exactly how you need. Your back arches when he points and swivels his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Behind your eyelids, stars burst.
"Sweet little thing," he mumbles into your wetness, letting it smear over his lip and chin, "just like candy."
"Shush," you exhale, moving your hands from the armrests down to the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up and holding it above your chest.
You bring your feet up to the chair, bending your legs at the knee and resting your heels on the painted wood. He looks up at you from his position, groaning at the sight.
You never knew that it was the simplest things you did that drove him crazy. You're so lost in the feeling right now, obsessed with the way he's making you feel. He notices the way you've begun to relax, how you've settled into your seat and have let him free your mind. Nothing could interrupt this now. Anxiety has vanished into thin air, with Jake it always ceases to exist.
"Oh," your voice drawls when he pulls your clit between his lips and suckles on it, "my- Jake..."
He nods, which adds a bit of pressure that makes your eyes water deliciously. Your head tilts back, hand absently reaching for his head and pressing his face even closer. He doesn't mind, in fact he loves the encouragement, so he moves his head and flattens his tongue.
"F-fuck." Your eyes roll back as your fingers curl into the dark tresses and softly pull at the roots, making a moan from him vibrate against your heat.
His hands spread your thighs wider, fingers splayed over the skin and holding you open for him. Soft moans leak from your lips as you watch him with an open mouth. His tongue glides over you hungrily, not coming up for air even for a second. You have to let your head tilt back and eyes shut when he kisses your clit before sucking it back in between his lips.
"Jake," you barely get his name out in a whisper as your climax builds rapidly, and all at once breaks. Your other hand joins his hair and keeps him in place, "Jake!"
As your orgasm takes over, you lose control. Your teeth grit in an effort to bite back the obscene noises you've begun to make, but there's no point in trying to cover them up. Your hips move on their own, grinding yourself against his lips as your release washes over you. His hands scramble to find purchase on your outer thighs, gripping your flesh so hard marks will be left behind. Neither of you care.
He responds to your noises with sounds of his own, echoing your moans and sighs. It makes your lashes flutter and toes curl, until it becomes too much.
Finally reaching the end of your peak, you whimper softly and soften your hold on his hair, gently pushing his shoulder with your foot. He pulls back breathless, letting go of you and resting on his haunches. You lazily stare at him through half-lidded eyes, trying to catch your breath.
You were a gorgeous mess. It makes him want to ruin you all over again, but he knows better than that. So instead, he gets up.
"Thank you," you pant out, barely paying attention to the way he's begun to lean into you until his hand is gripping your chin and his mouth is pressing against yours.
"I fuckin' love it." He mumbles into your mouth as he kisses you messily. "Could live off of that alone."
He pulls away and straightens your shirt so it's covering your thighs again as you sit back, trying to catch your breath. You watch him with heavy lids as he looks around the flooring, bending to snatch your panties. He stands, dangling the pair of underwear from his fingers, giving it an appreciative look before stuffing them in the pocket of his sweats and wiping his face with the back of his hand. A rush of arousal races through you again, your core begins to throb, and you have to cross your legs in attempt to ease the reemerging ache.
He smirks and scoffs at that, in a way that makes you blush and sigh. His hand pulls from his pocket and gently caresses your face.
"Think I'll get some coffee now." He hums, tracing his fingertip along your jawline as he slowly saunters away.
The Mikey & Nick erasure. Yes I know this is the brainchild of Jake & Chris. I get that they are the central beings associated with Mirador. But it truly chaps my ass that not only does the fandom forget about Nick & Mikey but that every fucking promotional video or thing is like Jake & Chris, Jake & Chris. I said it awhile back that Mikey & Nick know they are expendable. I was saying it in defense of Greta and all the sky is falling bullshit, but the more I think about it the more pissed I got.
I just finished listening to the entirety of the debut album and omg! Mikey & Nick are genius! I saw them last year in concert and was like this is cool. I’ve delved further into Mikey & Nick not having been familiar with them the way I was Chris & Jake.
I’ve watched some interviews and rig rundowns with Mikey and the man is truly truly gifted. The things he can do with a drum kit are insane. The way he uses multiple tools at the same time and sometimes even gets his hands in there to create the tones and sounds he wants are amazing. Skyway Drifter is elite because of the drums. The crashing out drum chaos at the beginning Heels of the Hunt is perfection. He is the heartbeat of Mirador and while the acoustic Jake and Chris in the church is cool it lacks that depth & fire and beat that Mikey brings to the table.
i haven’t watched as much with Nick, but come on the dude is a talented multi-instrumentalist. Bass, Double Bass & Keys. Fuck me! I love what he has done with keys in Fortune’s Fate. I also noticed that he switched from Double Bass to keys for Must I Go Bound on this tour and that makes me sad because it really added something to the original version of that song. Plus it’s just cool af to watch him play it. The bass line in Heels of the Hunt is glorious.
I say all of this to say that this band wouldn’t be half of what they are if it wasn’t for the rhythm section. It’s been said in multiple interviews that they specifically sought these two out and handpicked them because of their genius and talent. And the fact that no one gives them credit and everyone focuses on Chris & Jake irritates the hell out of me. Why the hell are all the videos just Jake & Chris in a open field or by water. Where the hell are the other two? Why not include them in the acoustics at the Church of St John?
Unless this is what Mikey & Nick wanted. Maybe they didn’t want to be promoed. Maybe they don’t truly consider themselves a part of the band. Maybe they know it’s just a job for now. Who knows?
it could be anything and I’ve got my undies in a twist over nothing. At the end of the day, the music is fabulous the lyrics are weird and wonderful and the accompanying music is sensational. Quit ignoring the rhythm section.
le morte d’arthur, ch 6 pt 2 is steadily on its way. this weekend — i promise.
it’s sitting at about 40k words at the moment, & there are still a few things to left finish up. (good things. hehe)
so, be ready for a long read. until then, enjoy this little preview. (for those of you who are reading, you know exactly what he’s trying to ask. ugh, poor guy. lol)
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