#but now all i can think about when i see those decorations is the fact that he mightve drunk himself into organ failure that night

[sjyzip]

 ᯓ  ✈︎ paradise found .ᐟ ˎˊ˗

⤷ 22. butterflies📍

warning: typos

wc: 2k

“you can do it man” sunghoon encouraged jake, fixing his shirt. “can i?” jake questioned him, running a hand through his hair. “yes you can, you just have to be more confident jake.” sunghoon reassured jake, giving him a pat on his back. “now go pick her up or else you’re going to be late” sunghoon spoke, jake’s car keys hanging on his finger. “thanks hoon” jake smiled, grabbing his keys. “you’re welcome, just remember to confess this time” sunghoon teased him as jake left his apartment, groaning at sunghoon’s teasing.

jake drove to get to your apartment before making a quick stop, he parked his car nearby and walked towards a flower shop, the bell above the door ringing when jake entered. he browsed around to see which flowers would you like until he saw the one; a bouquet filled with pink lilies and white roses, decorated with baby’s breath. he asked the florist for it and bought it. once jake had the bouquet in his hands he left the flower shop and headed to your apartment.

“do you think i should confess today?” you blurted out as giselle curled your hair. “if you need to get your feelings out, you should, after all he does like you” giselle spoke while curling your hair. “you think so?” you asked giselle, looking at her through your vanity mirror. “i do, i’m like 100% sure and if he doesn’t then he’s just blind cause you’re amazing” giselle said. “thanks gigi” you smiled.

it had been a long time since you went to a proper date that it felt odd going out like this, so much that you were nervous although that mainly came from the fact that you’ll try to confess tonight to jake. in your head all you could think about were countless of ways to ruin your date tonight and somehow jake didn’t seem not even a bit disappointed in all of those like he was immune to any embarrassing thing you could (possibly) do.

but then something shook you off your thoughts. a phone call, you picked up your phone from your vanity and saw the screen;  jake was calling you, you looked at giselle with a nervous smile before answering the call.

“hello?” you spoke into the phone. “hi yn, uh.. i’m already here, i’m right in front of your apartment” jake answered. you stood up from your chair and peeked through your window, jake’s car was right there. “alright! i’ll be there in a few minutes” you said, looking for your purse and heels. “i’ll be waiting then” jake spoke, just by hearing his voice you knew he was smiling when saying that and he in fact was.

you rapidly put your heels on and grabbed your purse, checking if there was anything you could need inside of the purse. “i’ll see you later” you said to giselle. “take care and if i see you comeback without confessing  i’ll force you back outside” giselle teased you. “yes ma’am i’ll confess tonight” you rolled your eyes. “okay go now, don’t keep jake waiting” giselle pushed you out of the apartment.

as soon as you left your building, you made eye contact with jake, he was standing beside his car with a hand behind his back. you smiled and waved at him while crossing the street.

the moment jake saw you leave your building, he was struck by how beautiful you looked, the white dress you were wearing looked like it was made for you. he shook his head, realizing that you were already next to him.

“these are for you” jake said, moving the hand he had on his back to reveal the gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

“they’re beautiful, thank you” you smiled, not once taking your eyes from the flowers. jake had gotten your favorite flowers this time and they were beautifully arranged, the pink lilies stealing all of your attention.

“a little someone told me that you liked these flowers so i had to get them for you” jake spoke with a smile he couldn’t help whenever he saw you. “they’re beautiful and all, but i think you look even better” jake said with a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. “you look good too” you nodded your head in approval, feeling your cheeks heat up by his compliment.

“should we get going?” jake asked, opening the passenger's seat door. you nodded and took a seat, jake closed your door as you entered and then got into the car.

the ride to the restaurant was filled with laughter and chatter , you both talked and laughed but after a while, a comfortable silence settled in; it was oddly comforting, the way that if you confessed and things went right this could be your new normal, your everyday.

once you arrived to the restaurant jake asked for his reservation and the waite took you both to your table. the restaurant was elegantly decorated with the  immense yet beautiful chandelier in the center of the restaurant taking all the spotlight

you both ordered your meals.  as you waited for your food to come, you talked about your life, catching up on things that had happened recently. once your dinner came over you both ate while chatting occasionally.

after you both finished eating dinner you left the restaurant. “soo.. what is next on our itinerary?” you asked jake. jake smiled before answering “the night sky” jake spoke. “like seeing the city on top of a tower??” you asked him once again. “something similar you could say so” jake answered. 

the place wasn’t a tower where you could see the city from the top. in fact it was a 20 minute walk to the top of a mountain in the middle of the city.

“are we there yet?” you asked jake, panting from walking up so long. “we’re almost there” jake looked at the top of the hill. “here, take my hand” jake looked back at you, stretching his hand to you. you took his hand in yours. every few minutes jake would squeeze your hand to see how you were doing and you would respond by squeezing his hand back.

“here we are” jake said, leading you to the railing on the border of the hill, the night sky was filled with stars and the view of the city lights on the night was also beautiful. the place was almost empty and it was quiet; it felt like only the two of you were there.

you both looked at the stars and city in silence till you broke it. “the view is beautiful, thanks jake” you spoke, maintaining your view on the city “yeah it is” jake agreed, turning to look at you with a soft smile. you glanced at him, returning his smile. 

after some time you both called it a night and went down the hill. jake was already regretting not telling you how he felt on the hill; it was the perfect moment to do it; under the night sky filled with stars yet he missed his opportunity once again.

the drive back home was filled with a comfortable silence although it was mostly because the walk up and down to the hill tired you out so much that you only wanted to get back home but first you had to confess to jake before your date ended.

“here we are” jake let out a small sigh, parking the car outside your building. “thanks for today, i loved it” you smiled, grabbing the flowers before leaving jake’s car. “wait— actually can I go in with you? to make sure that you arrive safely” jake blurted out.

“sure, i don’t mind” you nodded.

the both of you got out of the car and crossed the street to get to your building. jake was hyping himself the whole time, hoping he would have enough courage to confess this time. 

the elevator doors opened and the both of you headed to your apartment. “thanks again for the date, it was amazing” you spoke, flashing a grateful smile. “you’re welcome” jake smiled awkwardly, inside he was a nervous wreck and realized that this was his chance, his last chance to confess to you

“before you go.. i need to tell you something” jake added, fidgeting with his hands, he couldn’t back out now. “alright, tell me” you nodded your head, looking at him attentively. 

“this has been on my head ever since we hung out that time on the beach, that’s when I realized that you were like different from anyone, not in a bad way but—“ jake paused, he took a deep breath before continuing. “but as in the way that you were the same as me yet so different. it made me feel like it was just the two of us in our own world.” jake continued, taking a small pause to calm his nerves. 

“that day changed everything about how i saw you, i just couldn’t stop thinking about you, it was like i was stuck in a haze of you; everything i did or saw reminded me of you even the stars and that’s why i took you to that hill tonight” jake paused, feeling more confident after each word he poured out.

you stared at him, his gaze softening each second yet you could still tell that jake was nervous, to help him, you took his hand in yours, tracing small circles with your thumb to soothe his nerves.

“so what i’m saying right now is that i like you so much i can’t even use words to describe how much i like you, actually i might just fallen in love with you; i’m in love with everything about you. your personality, the way you smile, the way you talk, your random thoughts, the way you pout slightly when you focus. i love all of that.” jake poured his soul and heart out, his voice slowly becoming quieter after each word.

and that’s when the world stopped. it felt like you had frozen in time, the distant sounds of the city life were now silenced. your eyes widened slightly as you heard his confession, the circles you traced were now gone and all you felt was your face blushing.

after pouring his heart out, the loud silence filled with unspoken feelings was making jake feel even more nervous now. what if you didn’t feel the same? what if you rejected him? what if you both couldn’t never be friends again? all those thoughts ran through jake’s mind yet not even his thoughts could silence his loud heart beat

“you know.. if you don’t feel the same it’s okay, i just confessed cause i needed to get it—“  you interrupted jake, cupping his face with your hands, leaning in; jake surprised yet he leaned in. a soft, tender kiss, his lips; gently pressed against yours, he wrapped his arms around your waist.

 you pulled away slightly, catching your breath. All you could see was jake’s eyes looking down  and then back at your eyes with a soft smile; eyes filled with love. butterflies lingering in your stomach just with that smile alone.

“so i guess that was an i like you?” jake asked, his tone playful yet still laced with worry. “yes jakey, it was.” you began. “i’ve liked you since our little hangout last summer, i actually never thought that we would end up being this close but i like it” you added, jake taking your hand in his, calming your nerves.

“i actually like everything about you, even if you annoy and tease me. sometimes when i think about it later i laugh at it ” you giggled, tracing circles on jake’s hand.  jake’s eyes sparkled by hearing your words. 

“so.. uhm” jake took a deep breath, his heart pounding once again. “will you be my girlfriend?” 

jake asked, his heart racing even more now; his eyes darting around everywhere but yours.

“of course jakey” you smiled softly. you cupped jake’s face once again, forcing him to look at you. you placed a small, tender kiss on his lips and once you pulled away all jake could see in your eyes was a sparkle full of genuine love and affection

previous masterlist next

taglist: @domfikeluva, @keylimejake, @starry-eyed-bimbo, @rairaiblog, @tkooooop, @right-person-wrong-time, @sunghoonswhore, @minfolio, @bluxjun

a/n: the end is near…😣

[orcelito]

Man, seeing all the valentines day decorations in stores n shit is just reminding me how much I fucking Hate valentines day

[theemporium]

putting up the christmas tree with quinn hughes pls 🥰

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

series masterlist

.

“You really didn’t have to come.”

“Did you not want me here?” 

“I—no. Wait, yes but—”

“It’s your family’s Christmas tradition,” Quinn interrupted, shooting you a look that felt more amused than exasperated. “Did you really think I was going to miss it?”

“You have a game in two days,” you deadpanned. 

“This may surprise you but I am aware of that fact,” Quinn retorted, his lips twitching upwards when you lightly smacked his arm in response. But he caught your hand before you could pull back, pulling you closer to him. “Babe, I wasn’t gonna miss this for the world. We used to join in all the time when we were kids.”

“Yes. When we were kids. And weren’t proper adults with proper jobs that require proper rest,” you grumbled. “Plus, my parents don’t care. It’s been years since—”

“It has been years but this year is different,” Quinn acknowledged with a small nod. “This year, I’m more than just a family friend. I’m your boyfriend. I want us to be a part of each other’s lives and traditions, even if it means flying out in the middle of a three day break just for one event. You’re important to me and I want to show that.”

Your face softened completely, something in your chest tightening at the small but genuine smile on his lips. “Fuck, now I look like a dick for trying to make you stay with the team.”

Quinn huffed out a laugh. “It’s cute you care about the team so much.” 

“They are a part of your life,” you countered, throwing his own words back at him. “Of course I care about them.” 

Quinn’s smile widened. “See? You’re starting to get it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, playfully rolling your eyes before shoving him in the direction of the door. “If you wanna help, you can go help grab all the boxes from the garage.” 

It didn’t take too long for all the boxes to be brought into the house, stacked up in the living room before your mother started allocating everyone jobs. You shrieked when Quinn slipped his cold hands under your shirt, sending a shock through your system before you shoved him away and pushed the tangled Christmas lights into his hands as retaliation. The boy only grinned wider in response.

Memories flashed through your mind about spending Christmas with the Hughes family when you were younger and lived right next door. Your parents always taking over the decorating once the rest of you got bored, the tantrums and arguments on who got to put the star at the top, the cookies that Luke always managed to get an extra one of (your mother always gave in to his puppy dog eyes). 

Those memories were fond but you think you liked this better, watching the way Quinn joked around with your family and took the playful chirps in good stride before dishing them out just as good. It felt different to your childhood, it felt like a new tradition that you were eager to do every year in the future. 

“My side looks way better than yours,” Quinn stated confidently as he settled into the spot next to you, his arm thrown over your shoulders to tug you into his side with ease. 

You snorted, lightly elbowing him. “You’re lucky you’re good at hockey because your eye for detail is abysmal.” 

“College girl showing off her fancy vocabulary,” Quinn teased before leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “S’fine, I’ve got years to practice. Your parents are going to be begging for me to decorate the whole tree alone in no time.” 

You shook your head fondly. “So humble.”

He beamed. “Always.”

“Stick to your day job, Hughes.” 

“I take it back, I’m not sharing my cookies with you anymore.”

.

[wtfaniii]

I can do it alone, but he can also save me

Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho

Part 1 // Part 2

•Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between

•Note: Thanks for the support! Here I bring you the second part of this one shot that is personally one of my favorites.

•Warning: Maybe some drama, Some violence and attempted abuse, ¡Don't worry! this man arrives on time like a prince on a white horse

N/A: I haven't checked this yet, sorry if it has spelling mistakes

Gi-hun had told some participants that the next game would be dalgona, but it was not so and now they were upset with him, surrounding him and complaining about his mistake, calling him a "liar."

��You guys decided to play these games —the girl said standing in front of Gi-hun —Face the consequences and don't expect someone to come and save us.

—He's a fraud! —Player 100 shouted at him, pointing at accusingly and with contempt.

—ibelieve in him word —001 interrupted, standing next to her.

Due to the first impression that the two made on all the players, the complaints immediately stopped and retreated.

—It's nothing, I really believe you —Young-il said with a friendly expression

—And if you allow me... I would like to be on your team.

The next game would be in teams of five players, counting the girl, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho and now Young-il, they were full, however, when they were talking to get to know each other a little, a woman with the number 222 on his uniform approached them cautiously.

—¿Can I be on your team? Please —Jung-bae was going to interrupt her to tell that they were full but the young woman finished his sentence first —I'm pregnant.

The five pairs of eyes fell on the small bulge of her belly and noticed that it was true. Immediately, the woman spoke. —I'll look for another team.

—¿Are you sure you'll do it?— In-ho asked, looking at her carefully. A person who looked out for someone else's well-being in these games was rare to see, but considering the situation, it was quite understandable. He wouldn't give up his place if he wasn't so interested in his enemy.

She nodded confidently and left to find another team, it didn't take long, after all, most people took advantage of having someone like her on their team just by considering the word "police" in their introduction.

Once the teams were formed and they were told what had to do, they sat on the floor to wait the turn.

As time passed and gunshots mixed with screams sounded in the background, the young woman thought silently.

¿Will Jun-ho be okay? She really hoped so, she had known him for four years and knew that there were times when he could go to extremes to get what wanted.

It was something she loved about him but right now just worried about.

—¿What game are you going to play? —246 asked sitting next to her, momentarily taking her out of his thoughts.

—Gonggi —answered immediately, she was very good at that game, it had been his favorite since she was a child.

The others nodded and continued talking, she didn't go there with the intention of socializing too much.

For starters.

She was only there because Jun-ho had asked her to.

Jun-ho...

She just hoped him could find her and Gi-hun in time.

The policeman had no intention of stopping now, even without having the tracker active and with the fact that apparently someone was sabotaging them from inside, he was not going to stop searching.

The woman he loved was in those games, that wasn't going to be the plan, she was only supposed to be Gi-hun's bodyguard but things didn't go as planned.

—I think we should stop, it's almost time to eat and we're a bit far from the shore.

—We can't be so close now —he said, somewhat irritated and helpless. —Every minute they spend on that island is a danger.

He felt guilty for having dragged her into his own problems.

He remembered the last conversation he had with her before he lost sight of her.

[...]

—We are police officers —Jun-ho said, showing his badge to the guard who was guarding the entrance of the place

—Just like everyone else tonight —the man said with a mocking laugh, pointing at the long line waiting to get into the Halloween party.

Jun-ho didn't have enough patience to tolerate this, so with no other choice he went up to the man and took his gun out of his pocket.

—¿Do you want to see if this is a toy?

The guard stepped back in fear, giving them free passage.

The girl smiled proudly and waved her hand as if it were hot while sighed.

—That's my man —she boasted to the guard as they crossed the entrance. Jun-ho managed to hear her and inevitably a sly smile appeared on his lips.

—We have to find him before they do —he said, referring to Gi-hun searching the crowd but no masked pink guard was visible.

—It will be faster if we separate —she added, taking out her weapon and pointing it at the ground just to be ready in case used it —When we leave here it will be fondue night —she said without losing her charming touch.

It was something they both shared, despite being in tense situations like this, comments like that were never lacking, especially from the girl and that was something Jun-ho adored, her daring was part of what made the policeman fall in love with her.

—Maybe I should drag you into my problems more often —He replied with a smile and separated from her.

The girl was the first to find Gi-hun and surprisingly they let her get into the limo with him.

Jun-ho was unhappy about that but he couldn't change her mind and just when they thought they could intercept the front man of those suicide games they were forced to make a last-minute decision by shooting at the tires of the cars.

[...]

His stomach turned just remembering what people go through inside those games, he trusted that she could survive but the odds of not making him tremble and want to vomit.

—Okay... we'll call off the search —He relented after a few minutes.

He looked up at the sky and asked whoever would listen him to keep the woman he loves alive.

Meanwhile on the island, they had managed to get through the second game alive, she was sitting with Gi-hun's team silently watching around them when 001 sat next to her.

—Hi... —he greeted her with a soft smile, hoping that the mask being Young-il was convincing enough to fool her —I'm curious... if you're a police officer, ¿how did you end up here?

—¿Debts? —She replied with a false smile —My job was to take care of Mr. Seong but it didn't turn out the way I had in mind —she admitted, looking away again but feeling Young-il's intense gaze on her.

—So... ¿you're here as an undercover agent? —he asked, feigning surprise and curiosity.

He himself was the one who gave the order to allow her to also get into the limousine to accompany Gi-hun.

In-ho knew his brother would be worried about her, searching for her relentlessly, but it was inevitable, he needed to meet her in person and be sure how good of an influence she was on Jun-ho.

Or at least he thought it was a good excuse.

—Yeah... —She looked at him silently and attentively when she noticed a certain peculiarity in him appearance —¿Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I've seen you before...

Him face seemed familiar but she couldn't figure out why. In-ho kept eye contact with her, waiting for her answer.

It was a pity, if she recognize it him had no other option to let her die in the next games but luckily for the girl she denied it.

—Forget it, I'm just stressed ¿And why are you here?

—My wife is sick and pregnant.

She looked at him with pity as he told her his story, it wasn't a lie, it was just that it happened years ago and he couldn't do anything to keep her alive.

—I'm sorry —The girl said after he finished his words.—I promise we'll get out of here and I'll help you as much as I can with the expenses.

The police had money, not to say that she was a millionaire but she lived in a good social status, she was willing to help him only because her heart was softened by him story.

–You barely know me, ¿why would you do that?

—My boyfriend has also had a somewhat hard life and I took this job for a reason, to help others.

She did not consider herself a saint, but if she had the opportunity to do something good for other people, she would do it regardless of the consequences.

—Also... I think I'm pregnant —She said with a small smile.

How chaotic and unfair could fate be that just one night before she was to go to the medical laboratory for her results, she was taken to those games against will.

On the other hand, she could also feel a slight connection with this stranger, which was why she revealed that to him so naturally, but she still didn't know exactly why.

—I have to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back.

He nodded and watched her leave but his eyes also noticed three other suspicious looking players who followed her into the bathroom.

Without thinking twice he also stood up.

Not even two minutes had passed since she entered the bathroom when a woman grabbed her by the collar of the jacket and threw her backwards, making her fall on back.

–¿You remember me? —the woman demanded, looking at her with disdain and annoyance

—No —She answered standing up.

—You threw my husband into prison and won't be out for another twenty years —The woman pulled out a small pocket knife and another woman stood behind the police girl to hold her —I thought about how to kill you for days.

—Very cute, I still don't know who you are.

Those words only made the woman even more furious as lunged at her and tried to stab her,

Her hard training served her well in this unarmed fight.

But she was counting on another man to come in to help the two players who were trying to kill the young policewoman.

—Three against one unarmed is not fair... —she gasped for air as saw that he had a small opening in his head, her had hit himself on the sink at one point during the fight.

���¡It was also not fair that my husband was sentenced to twenty years in prison for attempted abuse!

—Oh, believe me, I tried to make it forty.

A kick to the face from one of them managed to stun her long enough to give them time to pin her down on the cold, damp bathroom floor.

She couldn't hear clearly what they were saying but when she saw how the man placed himself on top of her, their intentions were quite clear.

She didn't have enough strength to continue defending himself, her felt bleeding from his leg from the knife and the cut on his head hurt, but like a hero coming to save the day, Young-il walked through the door and shouted "Hey!"

That small interruption was enough for her to hit the man in the genitals with her knee, making him move away and moan in pain.

She was too stunned to see what was happening, but before she knew it, he had her in him arms and walked out of the bathroom leaving the two women unconscious on the floor and the man with a bleeding nose.

—¡You should do a better job as guards! —he yelled at the two pink soldiers guarding the door, she didn't know it but that scolding was enough to fire those two.

He carefully led her to the men's room where, due to his front man advantages, he was able to have a guard deny another player access until he said so.

—Thanks... —Her murmured as he dropped her on the ground—But I had it under control.

She let out a giggle that made his ribs hurt, In-ho refrained from laughing, now he had to focus on fixing her wounds.

—Being a police officer you made many enemies —He said while using his jacket with some water to clean her.

—You have no idea.

In-ho continued to clean her wounds and after a few minutes everything was better for her, the girl stood up cautiously because of the wound on her leg and thanked Young-il with a small bow.

—Thanks for helping me, for the second time.

—I hope it doesn't become routine —he said with a soft smile, looking her up and down unconsciously.

When they came out of the bathroom there were suspicious glances but neither of them cared.

It was cute, she liked the way this man treated whenever her found himself in trouble, in a way he reminded her of Jun-ho,

She liked that even though she could defend herself, there was still a knight in shining armor who would arrive in the worst situations.

Young-il, the gentleman who arrived just in time and the only one who knew about her suspected pregnancy.

tag list:

@raya4643 @lvspedri @iloveoldermen0204 @ravenslocked

[julietsbody]

divine figures — luke castellan + reader : nothing could steer luke off his path to god now, until you came along. 

tags : southern setting au, small town setting, loser!luke, idolization, christian religious references & imagery, religious inconsistencies, church sex, religious guilt, body worship, sex but poetic, cannibalistic imagery…………..

a/n : heavily inspired by the lovely @murdrdocs!! 

luke castellan was never one to follow a religion, well, not at first he wasn’t. he thought it was all bullshit, to put your all into someone nobody is sure even exists, it’s bullshit. but then his mom began insisting that he went, that he needed to find god, they both did, so he went.   

luke lacked a father figure, so when he stared up at the statue perched at the apse of the church, he found the man he always lacked in his life, no matter how much the statue ignored his gaze, never bothering to look his way. he was quick to read the bible like it was a drug he just couldn’t get enough of, he sat straight with his eyes forward during each sermon, he kept himself pure. 

and he stuck true to that, until you came. 

he never really noticed you at first, but you were always there. 

always looking over your shoulder to his place in the pew, always smiling at him when he accidentally glances your way, always passing by his house on your bike on hot summer days in hopes of seeing him outside, shirtless and working on his mother’s car. 

you hadn’t mustered up the proper courage to speak to him, not until your parents have tugged you over to where he stood with his mother in the nave. your mother and father immediately sparked up conversation with his mother, leaving you to awkwardly look around the church in hopes of finding something worthy of speaking of. nothing, there was nothing. so you just mumbled out a, “hey.” 

he hesitates for a second, “hi.” 

“did you like the sermon?” your southern drawl, along with your sugar coated smile, luke can feel the thumping of his heart against his knit sweater. 

“‘course,” he smiles shyly, “i always do— um.. did you?” 

you nod at him, your ability to hold eye contact so well had him feeling nervous, constantly breaking it to glance around the room, “are you excited for easter?”

luke’s lips curve to a brighter smile, one that proves that he hopes that with jesus’ return, there will be a proper savior for him, his prayers will finally be listened to, maybe for once the statue on the wall will glance his way. 

jesus molded everything about luke, at this point, if he couldn’t believe in his father, jesus was going to take that place— and he did, luke was taught everything by the bible, all he ever relied on was the words of the lord, everything he ever did was a representation of what lied in those scriptures. he never worshipped another god, never said the lord’s name in vain, always remembered sabbath day, as well as honored his mother and… father. 

he didn’t commit adultery, in fact, he never spoke to women, really. his mother kept him sheltered, he was only allowed to speak to the women at church, not any of the women who rode on their bikes past his house, or smiled at him in the library. he just stared at them for a minute and looked away, contemplating how different things would be if he was able to speak to them. 

at the thought of women, luke’s mind races back to you, who is currently blinking at him and thinking he didn’t hear you. “i am excited— for easter, will you be at— the um.. the church that day?” 

another nod, then an awkward silence as you find nothing more to say, and neither does he. the church was a beautiful place, decorated with swirls of gold and dark wood, colorful stained glass windows that painted pictures of jesus, or virgin mary. if luke could move out of his home and live somewhere he genuinely enjoyed, it would be the church. 

there was something so comforting about it, maybe the faint music that played in the background, or the way it smelled of old books and floral perfumes, or the fact that it was just a place where so many people went to put their faith into someone. god was just so important, if luke didn’t know any better, he’d envy him. 

“you should come on sabbath days,” you interject his thoughts, leaning in to his vision. 

he blinks, eyes refocusing on your face, and he awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “i thought they were for relaxation?” 

“and worship,” you correct, and he crystalizes the memory of how each word sounds on your tongue, how it flows out so well, how it makes him swallow. 

“right, right,” he wets his lips nervously, “i’ll just— ask my mom. mama?” 

as soon as he asks his mom, she’s all smiles at him, nodding and even shaking your hand, thanking you for urging him to go to church more. 

“i’ll see you there,” is the last thing you say to luke that day. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

luke would be a liar to say he wasn’t riddled with visions of you in the darkest parts of the night, they started from the day you first spoke to him, and never left him since. he hated how much it plagued him, because it tempted him so well. it was like you were eve, offering him, adam, the apple. you reassure him that it’s sweet, that there’s no harm in taking a bite, and luke is parting his lips, ready to taste it, when he finally wakes up. 

the heat of the room is beating down on him, even in the cool of the night. his skin is sticky from sweat, and all he can ever think about is you. it should be a crime, really, how much you had consumed his every waking thought. for once, he wasn’t thinking of the bible verses he would be reading that day, what prayer he would be saying. 

luke didn’t know one thing about women, but the way you spoke to him, the way you smiled at him, the glints in your eyes, it had him wondering how he could make your face twist up in pleasure— fuck. he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s unholy, it’s weird, but he’s already in too deep. 

he’s already fed the memory of how pink your lips are, how soft they look, they probably feel the same. is it a sin to wonder how well you kiss? would you be all - consuming? or slow, sweet? luke doesn’t know why he prefers if you’d be hungry, if you’d bite and nip at him like you’re hungry, like he’s the last supper. 

his boxers feel tight on his skin, dick twitching in the confines of them. luke hardly knows this feeling well, he wasn’t one to allow himself to get hard, nor was he one to properly take care of it. but something about the idea of your teeth clashing against his when you kiss him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste him properly— it had his fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his underwear. 

when his fingertips graze his cock, he immediately shudders, lashes fluttering. every time luke touched himself, it felt like the first time, only now it felt.. better. better because he was thinking of you. luke had never watched porn, he hardly knows what it is, so the idea of what sex would be like is.. a gray area for him. 

but he works with what his mind is capable of, which is dry humping. the first setting that comes to mind is the church, which leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he goes with it. it comes to vividly, you on his lap, wet patch evident on his jeans from where your hips push down, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. when you moan, he does, when you whimper, he does, when you roll your hips, he does. 

everything was in sync, and it was all so sinful. masturbation itself wasn’t a sin, unless you thought of someone, and for the longest time, luke never thought of anyone, but you were a parasite he couldn’t shake, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 

luke wonders how much the priest will judge him when he utters these thoughts, these events in the confessional tomorrow. he has only ever uttered small, pitiful confessions, i didn’t help my mom with dinner, i turned in a book to the library late, i forgot to pray. he’s never had to confess anything larger. 

heat bubbles in luke’s stomach, it’s pleasant, sweet, but it curls, and curls until it’s suffocating, until his wrist is hurting from the fast pumps of his cock, sweat glistening on his skin, cheeks flushed. he can feel a whine scratching up his throat, in the confines of his mind, something is screaming at him, telling him to stop, but it’s too late, he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

when luke comes into the church the next day, it’s a saturday, a sabbath day. typically on these days, he would be spending his time lounging around his house, reading some piece of classical literature that he has hidden from his mother, wishing to keep the inked pictures of statues reeking of desire for one another a secret. 

but he was here, and so, he prayed. 

the sun had barely risen over the horizon (courtesy of daylight savings), yet the candles in the church were lit, leaving an orange hue to project around the empty room. 

luke felt gross, corrupt, unholy. 

for once, luke feels as though the statue above is glaring down on him, and he tries his best to not shrink into himself under the piercing gaze. he knows. his mouth is dry with each prayer, fingers sweaty around the rosary, but he wouldn’t allow himself to falter once more. 

as soon as he starts his fifth prayer, he hears the creak of the floorboards that he knows all too well, eyes fluttering open so he can look back to see who was there, hoping they hadn’t heard his last confessions in his prayers. 

you. his mind is tugged to a halt, every prayer he had rehearsed on his way to the church, completely forgotten. it was all just.. you. you seared on his skin, burned him until he was nothing but smoke. your gaze softens on him, a stark contrast to jesus’ pointed glares, “i didn’t think you’d come.” 

his voice is coarse from the nonstop prayers, “of course i would.” 

all he can think about is you underneath him, his own skin bitten and scratched, decorated in mulberry and deep pinks, he’s practically salivating at the idea. he wonders if, behind the confines of the church walls, would anyone hear you? would the priests dare to look for whoever is letting out such unholy noises? 

luke feels frozen the second he comes back to reality, dick hardening underneath the fabric beyond his control, his mind is tearing itself apart before he can even realize you’re speaking to him. 

“— wondering if you’d like to sit next to me tomorrow,” you pose, seemingly unaware of the bulge in luke’s pants that he is desperately trying to naturally cover with his hands. but you knew, you knew the effect you had on him, and he had the same effect on you. 

is it so cruel to only tease him harder? 

luke swallows the remaining saliva in his drying mouth, quickly moving to a stand, rosary bringing more attention to his covered crotch, “sure, yes— um.. i need to— go.” 

before you can even say anything, he is pushing past you, hand moving only to chastly grab your waist for a mere second as he passes, an instinct of trying to keep you stable, but it only makes a heat between your legs grow. 

desires go both ways, and it’s only a matter of time before they snap. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

easter was once luke’s most anticipated day of the year, but now it was the day of his nightmares. he barely slept last night, kept himself awake with chores, prayers, and reading the bible until it made him sick. he couldn’t have another dream, he couldn’t let you get to him anymore. he thought it would be easy to avoid you today, but he was cursed with his own mistakes as you sat down next to him in the pew. 

the worst part wasn’t that you sat down next to it, it’s that his mind was riddled with disgusting thoughts as soon as he saw how your dress brushed up your thighs, it was so simple, such a small act, but it just made him think the worst possible things. 

you bent over the pew, the bottom of your dress tugged up to show your panties, his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on it, crotch pressed to your clothed pussy from behind. 

luke blinks back with his cheeks hot, noticing the bible in your hands. when he speaks, he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying, it’s like he’s possessed, “what verse are you reading?” 

“luke 22:40,” you say it so simply, a smile barely teasing your lips. 

on reaching the place, 

he said to them, “pray that you 

will not fall into temptation.” 

the saliva on luke’s tongue is sour, near poisonous, his lips were stained maroon from the skin of the apple. luke 22:40 was the exact line he had been reciting to himself, luke was his name. the serpent was squeezing him tight, his breath felt swiped away from his lungs. 

luke is quiet for the rest of the evening, even through the sermon, when he should be smiling when everyone else is, clapping when everyone else is— he is just silent, blank - faced. 

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling until everyone has gone off to eat after the sermon, and he’s tugging you back into the pew once it’s vacant, fingers forming a tight grip around your wrist, “why are you doing this?” 

he’s out of breath, and no matter how tough he tries to seem, he sounds pathetic, his voice a near whimper, like he’s pleading with you. 

“doing what?” you blink up at him, doe eyes making his teeth press together. 

“you’re tempting me— this, this isn’t fair, why?” his breath is shaky when he exhales. 

“i’m not doing anything, luke.” 

“you’re making me think— making me imagine things.. sinful things.” 

“what exactly are you thinking?” your voice is softer, and the heat of the sun is seeping into the church. 

“i..” how can he explain himself? every image that he wants to communicate is all too disgusting, a mixture of hunger and desire, it seemed luke wanted you to eat him alive, “you know what i’m thinking.” 

“why don’t you show it to me?” 

absolution; 

formal release from guilt, 

obligation, or punishment. 

or.. 

an ecclesiastical declaration

of forgiveness of sins.

morals trickle down luke’s back when he kisses you, he knows it’s all wrong, he knows he could just leave it at a kiss, but he didn’t want to be haunted with these visions any longer, maybe if he made them a reality, they would just leave. he could be himself again, the picture - perfect religious boy he was always supposed to be. the kiss is small at first, the hesitant movement of lips, the adjusting to the feeling, but it quickly grows into something hungry. 

luke didn’t know how to properly kiss, so he just followed your lead, and soon enough, he was kissing you like a starving man. from tongues clashing, to his hand mindlessly moving to your hip, body pressing against yours, it was everything he saw in the pictures printed in those books he read. 

when luke falls back into his seat on the pew, you had pulled away from him, admiring how flushed his lips are. when your hand meets his jaw, luke forgets who his god is supposed to be, all he can think about is you, even on the day dedicated to the man he has spent all of his life worshiping. 

“please,” it’s barely even audible, only made out by the slight flick of his tongue from the l. 

“tell me what you want.” 

it felt like luke was sitting in the confessional, admitting all of his nastiest desires when his lips part, finally being able to say his thoughts out loud, “can you— ride me? or.. if you don’t want to— that’s okay.” does luke know what riding is? only from the overheard gossip of other men, but he was told it was something he had to try, when he got married, of course. 

“i want to,” it’s as if you aren’t in a church, as if nobody could just walk in and see how you’re moving onto his lap, moving his hands to your ass, letting his desperate fingers tug your dress up. his purity bracelet brushes against your skin when you move to guide his hands to your ass, watching the nervous look in his eyes when he squeezes the flesh. 

he has no idea what he’s doing, he just wants to please you, to make you feel as good as he made himself feel to the idea of you the other night. maybe, at this point, luke isn’t praying to jesus, maybe he never was, because you were always in the back of his mind. no matter how guilty it made him feel, how many times he had squeezed his tear - ridden eyes shut and wished he was different, wished he wasn’t so easy to fall for temptation. 

god is watching, is what his mind tells him, but your eyes tell him to keep going, watching as he moves his hands to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal clinging being so improper for the walls ridden with crosses, but it just felt so right. he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out his dick, the cool air searing his delicate skin, pupils blown wide when they watch your lips slightly part at the sight. 

 “you’re so big,” is all you can manage out. 

luke’s lips twitch around a small smile, “is that a good thing?” 

“if it fits,” you move through a few twists to properly take your panties off, letting them hang off your ankle when you reposition yourself to have your entrance pressing against the tip of his dick, “then yes.” 

luke’s lips press together as soon as you start sinking down on him, you’re so slow with it it’s almost torturous. the holy water he had dipped his water in and pressed to his skin, was now scorching him with each inch that filled your velvet walls. when you reached the hilt, it was safe to say you felt stuffed, and luke was making more noise than you. 

whimpers, grunts, he tried to hide them all behind the confines of his lips, but they dug their nails into his throat and crawled their way up until it was impossible for him to hold them back. as soon as you began moving, luke was purely fighting for his life against the own noises leaving him to the point of where he had to sit up, pressing his lips to your neck, he was quick to press his lips against the sensitive areas, biting, sucking— he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it properly, but he was just so desperate. 

he wanted you to shatter him like fine porcelain, to snap off his glass parts and crush them underneath your fingers with pure ease, to deconstruct every inch of him that he had taken years to build. no matter how empty he would feel in the end, to put himself in your hands, like a lump of clay in the hands of a goddess, he trusted your instincts. 

“i want you to ruin me,” he mumbles against the flesh of your neck, barely audible. 

“what?” your voice is breathless between moans, walls tightening around his dick with each movement of your hips. 

he whimpers out a simple, “sorry.” 

you didn’t forget his words, though, in fact, you let your fingers run through his dark curls, tangling through them until you tugged him back from your neck, just so you can take his place, now the one pressing your lips to his neck. he felt small underneath you, but he didn’t hate it, he liked the way that your lips felt on his skin, enough for him to lean his head back to provide you more blank canvas. 

you painted him in maroons and mulberries, blooming rose petals on his skin, marking him as your own. no matter how much luke knew he would be praying for forgiveness tonight, in this moment, everything he’s ever stood for has fallen off his broad shoulders. his hair is messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, skin peppered with bite marks, deep reds, purples, every color in between and beyond.

“‘m gonna—“ luke’s words come out choked, dick pulsing inside of you, “gonna cum—“ 

luke’s orgasm hits him hard enough to have tears pooling into his eyes, maybe it was the guilt, or the everlasting pleasure, he wasn’t entirely sure, how could he even be? all he could think of was you, now. 

“do you still believe in god?” you offer him once you’re off him and he’s putting his belt back on. 

he stares at you for a second, hesitating, then his lips part, “yes.” 

[jayhyunglover]

Wine Pon You

Pairing: Sylus x fem! reader

Warnings :MDNI unprotected sex, creampie, fingering , oral sex (f and m receiving). Dirty talking , alcohol consumption .Let me know if I missed anything

Synopsis : when your friends dragged you in a club to relax this certainly wasn't the type of relaxation you had in mind

Now playing : Die for me by Chase Atlantic

The scent of the alcohol wafted through your nostrils mixed with something so intoxicating , so sweet,  so him.

How did you get into this situation? You don't even remember.

Tara and Neilie dragging you into a club as a pathetic excuse to have fun  and relieve some stress but as you sat down here at the bar  gulping down mojitos after mojitos , you were far from relaxed.

Scanning the crowd of sweaty and pressed bodies with a disinterested gaze, that's when your eyes fell on him, poised on a couch on the VIP section looking as utterly bored as you were,  crimson eyes�� roaming over the crowd below.

His eyes found yours and you swear your heart stopped beating. Yet you didn't look away , your eyes locking with his as you sipped on another cocktail.

His gaze traced over you like a caress that sent shivers down your spine , one snowy eyebrow cocking up as if daring you to look away  and you were never one to back  down from a challenge.

Your little staring contest lasted for a while but you were a little impatient thing , body growing hotter under his hypnotizing gaze.

Sylus was doing no better,  sitting there in this boring club,  he was counting the minutes down to leave until his eyes fell on you , sitting there looking as utterly bored as he was. That was until she turned around to gaze at him , losing himself in your hypnotizing irises , so defiant in the way you were challenging him with your stare.

Sylus's eyebrows furrowed when you stood up to head over where he was sitting

Daring are we ? He thought the corners of his lips curling up in a small smirk.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the fact you were ovulating. Hell you didn't even know when your feet started to guide towards the VIP section just that  you needed to get here and take a closer at him at least.

Your mind and body  were ready for the rejection and get escorted out by the guards but to you  your surprise they let you in .

Stepping inside was like stepping in another world , the black and red tones adding to the sultry atmosphere but you didn't give a damn about that. You didn't came here to admire the decorations but the man sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey in hands , legs spread  while his eyes roamed over your form taking every inch of  you in greedily.

Sylus was right , you were definitely prettier up close. Those rosy lips , those eyes roving over him like he was a piece of meat . Yet he wasn't mad or offended Quite the opposite he found himself intrigued.

"To be honest I didn't expect you to win our little staring contest" you approached him trying  your best to stay in character and you mentally applauded yourself for not stuttering

He cocked his head slightly to the side before a small smirk pulled on the corner his delicious mouth

"What can I say ?" He shrugged nonchalantly twirling the glass of whiskey in his hand "I am full of his surprise"

His voice was a low sultry purr that sent tremors all the way down your slutty cunt.

Damn this was bad..

"Beside.." he took another sip of his drink, crimson gaze flickering over you once more "you're not as sneaky as you think , you were just as captivated as I was"

Now it was your turn to smirk inching closer to where he was manspreding on the couch

"You think?" You raised an eyebrow at him standing between his man spread legs

"No." He murmured his voice a low husky rumble "I know"

"So confident I see" you chuckled leaning down to rest a knee on the small place between his legs , one hand resting on the couch beside his head your own tilting slightly to the side to look at him , taking in his sharp features.

His face was a real piece of art,  one you'd very much like to frame with your legs

"So may I know your name staring partner?"

And Gosh Sylus almost missed your question with the way you were so close to him , your scent coating his mind with the sweetest intoxication,  your lashes fluttering up at him in a way that almost made him forget his own name

"Sylus" he grunted out body stiff with tension.

"Sylus" you repeated the name rolling off your tongue like a caress and Sylus swear he was alredy addicted to the way you say it.

"And might I  know yours?" He tilted his head as well , bloody gaze boring into yours

Feeling more daring you brought your face closer to him breath teasing his ear as you whisper

"Call me Y/n"

"Y/n" he reapeted eyes tracing down the column of your throat sweeping over the sliver skin bared by the low neckline of your dress

Fuck you were such a tempting vision.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman" he mused aloud making you laugh softly

"Flattery will get you nowhere Sylus" you shook your  head and Gosh Sylus wanted to bottle up this melodic sound to listen to it over and over.

"It's not flattery I am just stating the truth sweetie"

And that nickname made your knees weaken , the last shred of sanity or self respect leaving your body as you stood up and step away from him. Yet Sylus found himself missing your proximity , missing the warmth of your body , your sweet intoxicating perfume that drove him wild with Desire

"So Sylus" you start body moving before your mind can process anything "do you enjoy dancing?"

"Dancing?" He raised an eyebrow at her before taking another sip of his drink "I am just passable"

Oh he wished he could tell you how he wanted you to dance for him , on him but no he held back not wanting to scare you away .

Your eyebrow furrowed sensing he misinterpreted your point

"I was talking as in Dancing for you" you clarified making him choke on his drink the liquid burning down his throat.

"You mean as in right here right now?" He asked tone laced with a mixture of disbelief , shock and arousal

"You don't want to ?" You asked , a hint of uncertainty passing through your gaze. Teeth worrying the plush of your bottom lip

Maybe you were being too forward.

"No , I do" Sylus quickly said internally wincing at how desperate he probably sounded but you just offered him a small smile one that he knows would be etched into his mind for a while before you made your  way towards him hips swaying at the sound of the music.

The sight nearly had him biting back a groan his body taunt like a bowstring, mind swirling with thoughts each more filthier than the last.

And when you settled on his lap back facing him , he nearly let his hold on his drink slip , a small groan that went straight to your cunt leaving his parted lips.

He could feel every dip and  curve through the flimsy material of your dress , every slow grind having his sanity  melting away like a popsicle on a summer day .

His hand gripped the back of the couch holding onto it for dear life , grounding himself to not flip you over and fuck you right her on the expensive leather.

Patience

You abruptly stood up from his lap to face him , cheeks now crazed red , parted lips red from biting them too much.

You were so fucking aroused , heat throbbing at any mere friction that you had to stand up to stop yourself from humping him like a bitch in heat.

Sylus felt the loss of your warmth like a physical blow to his chest  and he had to  fight back the urge to pull you back on his lap.

He watched with half lided eyes as you traced a line down his neck to his open collar legs resting either side of his muscled thighs to straddle him properly,  to dance for him properly.

Your head fell back in ecstasy as your arms wrapped around his shoulder when the song reached your favorite part eyes tightly shut as you grind harder against him , hips moving in a circular motion that made Sylus keen. His mind shutting off , the last remnants of his sanity dancing away replaced by the unbashabed need he felt for you.

Unable to resist the temptation anymore, He leaned in to nose down your pulse inhaling your sweet scent and just one whiff made him literally groan. The sound pulling you from your drunken Haze.

"What are you doing?"  You asked breathlessly,  hips still moving shamelessly against his.

Sylus's breath came out in feverish pants lips pressing  small kisses against your neck that made your skin tingles , hips bucking up against his.

Sylus's hands snaked down to pin your hips down, to stop you  before he did something unforgivable.

"Trying to keep myself from flipping you over and have you right here" he murmured against your neck,  voice gruff as he spoke

the words went straight to the throbbing pulse between your legs a small humorless laugh escaping your parted lips , your lust filled mind far too gone.

"Then I guess.." you pressed yourself hard against the obvious bulge in his pants "I am not trying hard enough"

Oh you little minx.

He let out a small moan,  teeth nipping at your neck to muffle it

"No you're doing the exact opposite, you little minx" he murmured in the crook of you neck , nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh , the touch making your knees weaken

"If you keep this up" he rasped out "I wont be able to hold back"

"Who asked you to hold back?" You leaned down to whisper in his ear before nipping at his earlobe "I sure didn't"

Oh that was his last straw.

In the blink of the eyes you found yourself splayed out beneath him dress hiking up your thighs with his form looming above you.

"If you want me to stop holding back then" his features twisted into such a feral grin that made your cunt twitch "I'll show you , little temptress" he nipped at your  neck hand rubbing the soft skin of your thigh. Lips peppering kiss down your  neck to your  collarbone and it's only when he reached the low neckline of your dress you starting to feel self conscious of your current location.

You were still in the VIP section,  no matter how horny you were you couldn't let him have you here . What if someone walked on you?

As if sensing your inner turmoil Sylus stopped his ministrations , crimson eyes flickering up to search for your gaze.

"You dont want anyone to see us like this?" He grunted mouth still leaving feverish kisses against your skin

"No" you murmured softly. Even if you acted so boldly with him you wouldn't be very pleased to have someone walking on you.

And Even if it killed him to part with you , Sylus didn't really like the prospect of someone seeing you like this all flushed and panting because of him.

Letting out a soft grunt he reluctantly parted away from you but not for long , because soon he was hoisting you up on his shoulder earning a small yelp from you that made him smile

So cute.

Before you knew it you were out of the club . Sylus crossing the path to outside in just a few strides.

Your body shivered when he sets you down on your feet , the cold air biting on your skin before Sylus's wrapped his jacket around you.

"Wouldn't want you to get cold on me now Sweetie?" He offered a charming smirk that made you just wanna kiss him right here.

Straddling his bike you followed closely behind.

"Hold on tight now, kitten"

And he didn't need to tell you twice bevause you were holding onto him for dear life.

When you arrived at his penthouse,  you didn't even had the time to admire the beauty of it because he was already dragging you towards his bedroom, too impatient, mind too clouded with lust , body taunt like a bowstring , muscles strained , as if he'd die if he didn't have you right here.

Lips devouring yours , drinking in them like he was a dying man in a desert arm snaked around your waist to hold you close against him . And his lips tasted so addictively sweet. A mixture of wine and whiskey that had heat pooling low in your stomach.

As soon you reached his bedroom he pinned you against the closed door , lips trailing open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat

"You're so impatient" you chuckled against his lips hands tangling in his cloudy locks "I like it"

"You have no idea how impatient I can be" he murmured before claiming your lips in another bruising kiss , all teeth and tongue

"And tonight kitten" he nipped down at the side your neck "I am gonna have you screaming  for me" lips sucking at the sensitive skin below your ear in a way that had your legs trembling

"Is that ahh a  promise?" You let out between small gasps and moans .

He hummed in response lips too busy continuing their slow assault on your sense , now sucking and nipping at the plush of your breasts bared by the low neckline of your dress.

"And Sweetheart I always keep my promises" he whispered before dropping to his knees,  hands literally tearing your dress apart

Aww this one was your favorite

"Don't worry sweetie, I'll buy one hundred dresses , the whole fucking store even" he looked up at you  pupils blown out with lust , cheeks flushed a delicate pink and the sight of him on his knees looking so wrecked already nearly have you coming undone.

Big hands spreading your legs open hooking one of your legs on his shoulder to trail small kisses on the skin of your inner thigh teasingly close to your underwear but never quite reaching it.

Your hand found his snowy locks , caressing the soft strands in a pathetic attempt to coax him out

"Sylus" your voice was a soft desperate plea that went straight to his aching cock.

"Yes Sweetie" he grunted  , breath coming in short condensed puffs that fanned against your skin.

"Tell me what you want?" He nipped at the edge of your underwear in a way that just heightened your arousal

"You know what I want" you clutched at his hair , frustration lacing your tone. But he just chuckled,  the vibrations of his laugh going straight to your twitching cunt.

"No I don't" he whispered looking up at you , the frenzied look on his eyes having you throw your head back against the door and moan

"why don't you speak up for me , huh sweetie?"  He continued to nip at the flimsy material of your panties , tongue tracing over the lace and just one taste of your sweet beading juices had his mouth watering tongue licking greedily over the lace again and again as if he couldn't get enough.

And you could nothing else but keen, mouth leaving such sultry moans Sylus knew he'd never forget and he will make sure you never forget about this night as well , etching the memory into your very soul.

"Sylus please"  your words were nothing short than a sinful plea that had him seeing stars .

"Yeah sweetheart?" fucked out little grunts leaving his rosy lips who refused to part from your sweet addictive cunt not even for a second. "What is it? tell me, you know I'd give you anything" and he would truly if it can get him to stay  here buried in the heaven between your plush thighs.

"Eat me out properly please" rosy lips jutting out in a soft pout that made his pants constricts "need to feel your tongue nghh please"

And how could he ever deny you when you asked so sweetly?

"Well" he rasped out , teeth catching the edge of your underwear to trail it down,  down , down your legs "since you asked so nicely , how could I refuse?"

His feral smirk was the last thing you saw before he dove nose deep in your slutty cunt , tongue licking a long strip down from the base to your throbbing clit.

Yoyr head fell back against the door,  eyes fluttering closed while a string of curses and moans left your parted lips , body reduced to a babbled mess. And you sure if it wasn't for the iron grip he had on your hips you would have already collapsed on the floor.

"You taste so sweet kitten" he murmured between teasing licks,  the vibrations sending shivers all the way down to where he was making out sloppily with your drooling cunt.

"Can you hear her?" Another french peck "she's so talkative,  such a talkative kitten" he nipped softly at your clit , the action making your arch into his slutty mouth,  coating the lower half of his face in your sweet beading juice.

"Come on now" he quickened his pace middle finger now probing at your entrance while his lips latched on the poor swollen nub.

"Sylus I am gon-"  your words got cut off by another loud moan when you felt him add his ring finger , moving them at an unforgiving pace while his lips and tongue continued their abuse on your clit

"Yeah that's right Sweetheart, come on my face" he whispered between feverish kisses,  teeth nibbling on your inner thighs the plush of your pussy lips , everywhere he could reach.

And who were you to deny him?

You don't even realize it at first when you're cumming, hot white splashes of pleasure that made your vision tips white crashing over you , stars behind your eyes as you rode it out on his gorgeous face,  smearing your juices everywhere and he let you. Moaning happily between your thighs , crimson eyes taking in the sight greedily,  etching it into his mind .

Sylus continued to pepper small kisses down your thighs,  soothing them as you came down from your high chest heaving up and down breath ragged from the intensity of it

"That was WOW" you exclaimed making him let out an hoarse chuckle

"That good sweetie?" he gave your clit one last lingering kiss before pulling away.

"Are you kidding me?" Your eyes widened in disbelief hand cupping his face to make him look up at you "it was incredible,  your mouth GOSH feel heavenly" you ran your fingers over his slick glossed bottom lip

"Heavenly huh? You're the one who tastes heavenly sweetheart" he murmured against your hand before taking your finger in his mouth to suck it. the sight made you let out a small moan  before Yanking him by his collar to crash your lips against his , tasting yourself on his tongue and it was so sinful So depraved making your thighs rub together to temp down the fire that was beginning to burn once again.

"Kitten" he panted into your open mouth when your hand snaked down to palm at his obvious bulge

He was rock hard his need for you so painfully obvious but he still wanted to take his time with you , worship you like the Goddess you were but it seemed like you had other plans. 

You bit down on his bottom lip before starting to trail down kisses on his neck leaving blossoming purples mark on his skin , while your hands fumbled with his trousers , too impatient

"Eager are we?" He chuckled helping you take off his pants

"As if you're any better" you scoffed making him smile.

"Shit" you groaned , hand wrapping around his cock through his boxers "why is it so heavy?" You voiced out genuinely taken aback

And Sylus felt the tip of his ear heat up. Biting back a groan at your touch

"You really don't know" he looked down at you taking in your dishelved hair and smeared lipstick

"Its heavy because I want you so badly"

Those words made your eyes widen further

"I made you like this?" You spoke in a small voice hand still moving at a slow pace.

He grunted in response and before you knew it you found yourself sinking on your knees in front of him.

"Then I guess"

And Lord forgive him , Sylus knew this sight will be the start of every shower he will be taking on the next few weeks

"I should take responsibility for it" you murmured before trailing his boxers down letting his length spring free slapping against his lower abdomen .

It was so pretty , long , girthy inches that made your mouth water with veins trailing down the side and a mushroom tip flushed  your favorite shade of pink.

"So pretty" you cooed tongue lolling out to trace a vein on the underside and the touch makes Sylus throw his head back and moan,  a low feral growl deep from his throat.

She's going to be the death of him

"What a beautiful death that would be?" You chuckled leaving soft pecks all over the length of his cock

Shit did he say that out loud ?

"A beautiful death by the hands of a beautiful woman" he chuckled voice roughened by a mix of Desire and lust , hands tugging at your hair while you made out sloppily with his aching cock , pressing french kiss after French kiss against his reddened tip.

It was so filthy.

"Sweetie" he heavened out, breath growing ragged , sanity dancing away leaving a feral beast that was on the verge of pouncing on you.

You looked up, eyes blearimg lazily at him, lips stretched around his girthy length in such a fucked out smile.

"You taste so good Sy" you murmured cockdrunkenly already high on his taste his scent , the way he moan out your name like a prayer.

"Shit you're so good at this" his grip tightened on your hair, your head bobbing faster to bring him to his peak , hand scratching down the trail of white hair at his lower abdomen.

"Kitten I am going to-" his words got cut off when he felt one of your hands massaging his heavy balls

"Come for me Sylus" you pressed another French kiss to his aching cock looking up sultrily at him "make a mess on my face" another french kiss , sloppier , messier and he was cumming so hard he thought he was seeing stars for a second,  painting your face in such a sinful white. It was so depraved,  so lewd yet you loved every single second of it.

You parted from him with a lewd pop , tongue darting out to lick the remnants of cum staining his thighs,  the touch sending tingles down his spine.

"God you're going to kill me at this rate sweetheart" he pulled you up to crash his lips against yours,  tasting himself on your tongue , the salty taste making his head spin.

He picked you up effortlessly legs wrapping his wait without breaking the kiss

He laid you gently on the bed as if afraid you'd break not having a single idea that if he did break you you'd Thank him and come back for another round.

"You're so beautiful" he whispered trailing kisses down your exposed shoulders , collarbone , hands caressing you like you were  a piece of art.

"Sylus" you whimpered when you felt his hips pressing sensually against yours.

You needed him inside right fucking now

"Patience kitten" he murmured,  voice a low heated whisper , hands cupping your breast to roll deftly your peppled nipples

"We have all night"

Don't get him wrong,  he wanted you just as badly you needed me but he also wanted to take his time to explore you slowly,  to keep drawing each gasps and moans from your kiss bitten lips.

But you weren't having it , hands fumbling with his shirt to get it off of him as soon as possible.

"And here I thought I was the impatient one" a soft laugh rumbled out his throat before helping you discard his shirt somewhere leaving his sculpted chest on display for your eyes to admire

"You're such a work of art" you breathed out loud , hands trailing down his chest caressing his pecks,  his broad shoulders down his abs and his twitching  cock that was begging for your attention again.

Sylus buried his head on your chest to muffle his sounds , sucking and biting on your hardened buds to distract you (and himself )

"You're such a little tease" he grunted out against your skin tongue flicking against your nipple while his fingers were rolling deftly against the other , pinching and twisting it at his will.

"Yet you love it" you countered hand wrapping around his cock once more to pump him slowly.

Damn right he did

He continued his slow assault on your chest , the heat of his mouth so distracting it made your pace falter.

"Sylus please" you bucked your hips in the air cubt clenching around nothing.

"Please what sweetie?" he let go of your nipple with a lewd pop "tell me what you want"

"Just fuck me" you whimpered out , mind too scrambled to process your words just that you knew you'd die if he didn't fuck you now.

Yet he was still reluctant,  toying with your sanity.

"Are you sure sweetheart?" He whispered against your skin eyes searching for yours "I dont want to hurt you" another small peck between the valley of your breasts

Groaning in frustration you brought his hand to the literally pool between your legs

"Is this enough to convince you?"

Sylus let out a sharp exhale at the wetness between your thighs,  fingers slipping between your folds to pinch your clit earning a small yelp from you

"So wet already" he groaned  before positioning himself at your entrance,  his tip sliding up and down between your folds coating himself in your essence.

"I am gonna fuck you so hard" he grunted the fat divot at his tip catching just right against your throbbing clit "until all you'll be able to do is scream my name"

"nnggh" you threw your head back when you felt his tip pushing in stretching your walls sinfully around his girth

"You're so big" you whimpered mindlessly already so cockdrunk

"Relax" just  pushing in small gyrations to fit himself inside "you can handle it"

And you can do nothing but take it letting out such sinful little Ah Ah Ah that had all the blood of his taunt muscles rushing through where he was buried deep inside you

"Fuck did you just-" and you're getting shut up by a kiss , bruising , feverish while his hips keep moving, letting out a small pant when he finally bottomed out.

"S-shit" his voice was shaky , his breathing ragged ,his head rested in the crook of your neck movements stopping to let you adjust to his size. you felt so good , so unfairly so. So tight and warm , perfect like you were made for him

"You're gripping me so tightly" he rasped out hips starting to move slowly "so warm so perfect" he continued to ramble in the crook of your neck.

You could only keen , sinful whimpers and moans that went straight to his cock leaving your lips like a beautiful chant.

"Look at you" he raised his head from where it was buried in the crook of her neck "taking me so well" another slow grind "like you were made for me"

"Sylus" you moaned legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer. The way you were looking up so expectantly at him with those wide does eyes of yours had him bit back the urge to throw his head back and moan but nothing prepared him for the words that was about to leave your parted lips

"Faster baby"

And who was he to ever deny you?

In the blink of the eyes you find yourself splayed out on your stomach ass raised in the air while he let out such a fucked out grunt.

"My my" he's evening out leaving small kisses on your shoulder down on the arch of your spine "so demanding" a small nibble that made you push your ass down against his pelvis.

His hand automatically found your hip to hold you in place

"Patience kitten we have all night" he chuckled before sliding into you in one full thrust , your head dropping in the pillow with a small gasp

"Faster was it?" Just slamming himself into you the sudden pace making you squeal. Drool trickling down the corner of your lips.

The skin slapping sound was deafening coupled with his occasional grunts and groans had your pretty pussy drooling

"Such a slutty pussy" he groaned looking down at you "look at her" he spread your pussy lips wide open watching how she was drooling all over him "taking me so well like she was made for me, wasn't she? "

You were far too gone to register his words,  too busy moaning to answer his questions but he didn't mind your cunt was talking enough for the both of you and he was determined to keep her talking.

You bit down on the pillow to muffle your scream when you felt his bulbous tip hit your G spot but he wasnt having it

"Dont do that Gorgeous" he yanked you up to bring your back flush against his chest "let me hear the pretty sound you make" he nipped down at the side of your neck,  2 deft fingers coming down to abuse your poor clit. And you couldn't hold back anymore , head lolling on his shoulder while you uttered the sluttiest moans he ever heard. His Tip abusing your G spot with no reprieves.

"That's right sweetheart let me hear you" his touch on your clit never relented not even when you were a sobbing cockdrunk  mess , hips fucking back against his sloppily,  not even when your orgasm hit you like a truck,  waves and waves of pleasure crashing down on you like a sea storm. Sylus never relented his pace fucking another one out of you

"No no more" you let out soft broken whimpers trying to swat his hand on your clit away but he wasn't having it , pinching your clit to make you reliatate.

"One more sweetheart" he murmured against your skin voice so soft and gentle the complete opposite of his relentless hips still pistonning against yours only stooping when he's shooting ribbons of cum inside you painting your insides white and it was so much dribbling down your thighs and his to form a puddle on the sheets below.

Sylus never felt so good , small tears clouding his vision from the intensity of his orgasm,  a strawberry pink blush tainting his cheeks and the tip of his ear , red eyes nearly turned black from lust.

"You're so perfect sweetheart" he peppered small kisses on your neck,  hand trailing down your side in an attempt to soothe you "did so well for me" he kissed your temple before slowly untangling himself from you and laid you down on the bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You were still floating on a cloud nine , his soothing caress slowly bringing you back to life

THAT was WOW the most mind blowing sex you had.

"I am glad you think so sweetie" he chuckled caressing your cheek and that's when you realized you said that out loud

"I mean yeah" you looked away feeling a bit self conscious

"Come on" he cupped your chin to make you look back at him "dont get shy on me now" he caressed your bottom lip with his thumb making you nip back at it.

You minx he groaned. Watching as you took his finger in your mouth to suck at it

"Come on now Mr Sylus" you released his thumb to pepper kisses on his jawline , legs moving to straddle him . "I remember you saying something about 'having all night'. What about we put this time to good use?" I nipped at his earlobe

And who was Sylus to say no to you?

What you meant by putting this time to good use was to get fucked on his mattress,  the floor , the  vanity  , up against a wall, everywhere on his appartment   until you both almost passed out.

Sylus's arms was locked firm around your frame , head buried in the crook of your neck. You stirred in your sleep , eyes fluttering open to take in your surroundings.

You slipped out of the bed stealthily,  trying to make as much as less sounds possible to not wake him up.

Heading to the bathroom to take a shower,  your mouth fell open when you took in the sight of you in the mirror , body littered in love bites and hickeys,  your neck your chest , your back and even your cheek had one

Damn how are you even gonna present yourself at work today?

After taking your shower you wrapped yourself in Sylus shirt that was hopefully big and long enough to act as a dress shirt.

Everything about him is so big.

You did your best to arrange your hair before leaving his penthouse not without leaving a small notes on his bedside table.

When Sylus woke up he felt a small pang through his chest when he realized you were gone .

After making him lose his mind like that last night you dare leaving like a thief?

But a small smile found his way to his mouth when he read your small note

"Thanks for Last night , it's one of the best I've ever had  

Your Staring partner Y/N"

Sylus felt strange sensation on his stomach like butterflies wings before quickly catching himself.

It was just a one-night stand nothing to get too excited about. Still a part of him wished you would've stayed longer , at least to eat breakfast together

You're being way too hopeful Sylus.

This morning you went back home with both of your heart happy and your mind poised not having a single idea of what fate had in store for you

"What do you mean I am pregnant?"

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

Pt2 👀maybe??

Tag: @jinwoosbabyboo @poisonf0rest

[jymwahuwu]

BARKINGN WOOF WOOWF DOES HE LIKE DOGS?? I CAN BARK!! GOOD HEAVENS MR. RECA. MISTER MISTER!! HELLOOO SAILORRRR!!

cough cough, my apologies for that outburst but here are my thinking thoughts on Mr. Reca..

Thinking of him holding you in a headlock to make sure the camera could capture your face. Maybe press down on your tongue with some of his fingers so the camera can capture those lil mewls and such.

He loves to keep going until he sees that doe-eyed blank stare you get whenever he goes too far. Face tear-stained while you drool mindlessly against his fingers. In fact, he always tries to get that one clip in whenever he wants to record(which is always.)

Bondage but it's him tying you up with old film from your previous commercial/scenes of you in other movies. Just so he can see the before and after his special films. He loves you dearly, look at how footage he kept of you from your previous acts!!

(Also on a more romantic topic, thinking him of making roses out of his favorite film tapes of you on the first date. You don't know because it's pitch black but they're actually from the films that you have acted as a romantic love interest. He's very sweet..when he's not insane me think.)

I passed out…Mr. Reca…his movie-related kink, and the way he expressed his love…😩💖💖💖

cw: yandere, dub-con, obsession, humiliation, oral sex, ooc because the official plot has not been released yet

Headlock may be a little rough, but that's the way to get your face on camera! He enjoys making low-budget movies for his own entertainment, without any regard for commerce but only his art and desires. The camera is right in front of you. Are you a little too shy? His arms were draped across your neck, holding your face in place as you bounced on his cock. Now you can't avoid the camera no matter what. He presses his thumb against your tongue as you swallow those sobs. No reason to hide them!

Mr. Reca doesn't show restraint. He pushes you to your limits to see how far you can go. Disappointing that you only need 5-6 orgasms to be brainless. The dazed look on your face is priceless (eyes melting out of focus, tears all over your face, and trembling legs. No quick reaction, just a subconscious whimper as your lips wrap around the cock). He often fails to part with these precious films and adds plots that have no obvious connection. In a movie about human loneliness in the universe, the scene of your orgasm is played. This is what happens at film festivals and cinemas. Anyway, if the audience complains, he will say it is a montage.

He keeps every movie that includes you. Those are his treasures. Even with the technology here, he still keeps these physical movie discs in his collection box. There are handwritten marks on it, such as: "1:15:32 blowjob part", "A must-see during the holidays", "3 hours without breaks version" and so on.

This stems from Mr. Reca's romantic moment. He created a CD collection of movies about you, decorated with fresh flowers and a cosmic gemstone.

Tucked inside is a card:

"To my favorite actor, legend, and sun. (Beautiful cursive writing, but at the last word, the person who wrote it seemed a little emotional, and the ink melted) Only when the sun shines on him, the moon will glow.”

[foxy-eva]

Prom Night

Summary: After everyone shared their sad (or non-existent) prom stories, Penelope decided to host a BAU Prom Night, giving Spencer the perfect excuse to finally ask out Reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) a bit of miscommunication, jealous Spencer, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author’s Note: This is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party Challenge!

Word count: 2.8k

Masterlist

“And that’s how I ended up with a broken heart on prom night,” JJ concluded her story after a couple of other BAU members had shared their prom experiences in their lunch break. 

“Aww, that’s so sad!” Penelope cooed. 

“I didn’t even go to prom,” Spencer chimed in. “I mean, I was twelve, but still…”

Derek looked at you and asked, “What about you, pretty girl? Did anything exciting happen on your prom night?”

You took a moment to think about it and shook your head, “Don’t even get me started.” 

“You know what!” Penelope suddenly exclaimed. “We should throw our very own prom night! This way we can make up for all those miserable experiences.”

“That sounds fun,” JJ agreed. “I would love to take Will to prom.” 

“Yes, that’s perfect. Everyone has to bring a date!” Penelope locked eyes with Spencer and made herself very clear, “No exceptions. Not even for you, doctor.” 

Spencer cleared his voice as a slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks. It made you smile to see him like this and you wondered if he already had someone to ask to go to prom with him. His eyes met yours for a moment and your heart immediately skipped a beat. 

To everyone’s surprise Hotch agreed to have a BAU Prom Night and made sure that you could use one of the function rooms at Quantico. Over the next few days you helped Penelope figure out the details until the date of your big night was set. 

Everything was going as planned except for one detail - you still didn’t have a date. You were sure that you were the only one at this point, even Spencer seemed to have found someone. At least that was what you assumed after you kept catching him and Derek mumbling about something (or someone) and stopping once you got close enough to eavesdrop. 

Three days before the festivities began, you and Penelope were waiting for fresh coffee in the kitchen while talking about the perfect color arrangement for decorations. Spencer approached and noticed that the coffee wasn’t ready yet, so he joined into the conversation by sharing some facts about color theory. 

“Hey, Y/N,” you turned your head to spot Anderson approaching. “I heard you don’t have a date for prom night yet.” 

“You don’t?” Spencer exclaimed. “I thought you had a boyfriend.” 

You flashed him a confused look and muttered, “What? No.”

“But you mentioned this guy a few weeks ago. I overheard you talking about a date with him,” Spencer stammered. 

“I never heard from him again,” you clarified and turned to Anderson. “And no, I don’t have a prom date yet.” 

The man you had never paid any attention to before smiled at you and said, “Well, now you do!” 

Spencer looked shocked at Anderson’s words and stormed out of the room without saying anything. You had never seen him acting this way and watched as he disappeared in the empty conference room. You flashed Anderson an apologetic look before following Spencer to talk to him. 

You found him sitting at the table, pretending to look through a file when you sat down beside him. “Spencer, what’s going on?” 

“I thought you already had a date,” he mumbled without looking at you. “And now you’re going with Anderson.”

Slowly you got a hunch what all of this was about. It made your heart flutter to realize that he wanted to ask you out. 

“I haven’t agreed to go with him, yet,” you told him. 

He finally locked eyes with you and asked, “Do you want to go with him?” 

“I don’t want to go alone. But the guy I actually want to go with hasn’t asked me yet.” 

Spencer didn’t respond, instead his eyes found the file on the desk again. You couldn’t believe how oblivious he was and realized that you had to spell it out for him. “Spencer, I’m talking about you.” 

“Wh..What?” It took a few seconds until he realized the meaning of your words. “Oh.” 

“Are you gonna ask me out now or what?” You giggled. 

“Yes! Yes. Uhm,” he cleared his voice and took a deep breath. “Do you want to go to prom with me?”

You smiled at him and nodded. “I would love to.” 

A wide grin appeared on his face and you noticed a sparkle in his eyes you had never seen before. Spencer seemed genuinely happy. 

“Should I uhm… pick you up at your place?” Spencer wondered. 

“No, I’ll get ready here because I have to help with decorations. But you could pick me up right here and we’ll walk down to the function room together?” 

“That sounds lovely.” 

After you turned down Anderson’s invitation, you and the rest of the team had to get back to your job for the next few days. It was hard to focus on work as your mind kept drifting off to the fact that Spencer had finally asked you out. Anytime that thought crossed your mind, you felt your cheeks heating up and your heart began beating erratically inside your chest. 

For the first time since you started working at the BAU, Spencer didn't look right away whenever your eyes met his. His glances lingered on you and it made you feel like you were the only person in the room with him.

When the big night finally arrived, you spent most of the day preparing the function room for the evening. About thirty minutes before everyone else would arrive, you hastily disappeared in the restroom to change into your dress, fix your hair and put on some make-up. 

Spencer arrived at the conference room just a few minutes after you. He wore suits most days but you had never seen him wearing anything that fancy. He looked incredibly handsome in his black suit, white dress shirt and bow tie. 

Before you had a chance to tell him how gorgeous he looked, he stammered, “Wow… you look stunning.” 

Your fingertips brushed over the soft fabric of your dress as if to straighten out wrinkles that weren’t there. A wide smile spread over your face at the compliment. It was no coincidence that you picked a purple dress, aware that it was Spencer’s favorite color. 

“Thank you. You look very handsome, too.”

A rosy shade spread over Spencer’s cheeks while his lips curled into a coy smile. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments until he seemed to remember the item he held in his hands. 

“Here, I got you something,” he said as he let you take a look. 

It was a small corsage with white and lavender-colored blossoms. It matched your dress perfectly. You reached out your hand, implicitly telling him to put it over your wrist. 

His fingertips gently brushed over the back of your hand as he placed the corsage on your arm. His touch was innocent but ignited sparks inside your chest nonetheless. He must have felt it too because when his eyes found yours you noticed that warm glimmer in them again. 

As the two of you entered the function room the party had already started. The dance floor was filled with your coworkers, moving in ways you had never seen before. The colors of the balloons matched the rest of the decor and you were more than happy that everything had worked out so wonderfully.

“So, what do you think about your very first prom, boy wonder?” Penelope giggled as she approached the both of you. 

“It’s perfect,” was all he had to say.

Penelope grabbed you both at your arms to pull you onto the dance floor. Spencer protested at first but gave in once you took his hand in yours. You joined the others in their silly little dances and to your surprise, Spencer did too. That was until a slow song came on. 

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he turned to you and placed his hands on your waist. You let yours rest on his shoulders and began swaying from side to side. 

“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing,” he chuckled as he looked down at his feet. 

“You’re doing great, Spencer,” you sincerely responded as you moved a little closer towards him until there barely was any distance left between your bodies. 

“Is this better than your actual prom night?” He wanted to know. “You never actually told us about it.” 

You couldn't stop your hands from moving to the nape of his neck, gently playing with a few loose curls as you purred, “It’s so much better.”

Just when you thought that he was about to lean down to kiss you, you noticed the high-pitched laughter of your female coworkers. 

“Aah, look! They are exactly like those teenagers in every high school romcom!” JJ chirped as she pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the two of you. 

You turned your head to find her face in the crowd, prompting Penelope to chime in, “No, don’t stop, my two lovebirds! Go on, kiss!” 

You felt your cheeks heating up at the realization that you had an audience in this intimate moment.

“Do you wanna try out the photo booth?” Spencer suggested to get away from the curious glances of your work family. 

“That sounds fun!”

And it was fun. You spent a while posing like those typical prom couples before taking a bunch of silly pictures with the props Penelope had bought. 

“Okay, I think we’re done,” you laughed once your cheeks started hurting from smiling so much. 

Spencer shook his head and pressed the button once more. “One last set!” 

Just when the countdown of the camera reached the number zero, you felt Spencer’s lips on your cheek. Your head was spinning after everything that had happened tonight. It seemed like finally being close to the man you had pined after for months gave you the courage to show some initiative. 

You turned your head to find his mouth, capturing it in a soft kiss with no intention to stop even after the last photo was taken. Kissing him then was chaste and sweet and so, so perfect. 

“Busted!” You heard Derek’s voice as he approached the photo booth with his date. “You two should get a room.” 

Almost in unison the both of you responded, “Shut up, Morgan.”

The next few hours flew by quicker than either of you would have liked. Spencer must have noticed how exhausted you were, so he offered, “It’s getting pretty late. I can drive you home if you want?”

Even though you didn't want this night to end, you knew that it was probably for the best. “Yeah, I would like that.”

Spencer nodded and took your hand as he led you out of the room. The way to his car seemed endless and the need to be close to each other was all-consuming. There was no way you could make it without giving into your desperation.

The elevator seemed like the perfect place for your second kiss. Spencer pushed you against one of the walls, his hands cupping your face as he leaned down to find your lips. This time it was far from innocent, the way he instantly deepened the kiss let you know that he must have fantasized about this moment for just as long as you had. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against your lips. “I’ll never get enough of you.” 

What followed felt like a haze, between longing glances, sweet kisses and bright laughter you somehow made it to your doorstep. Spencer leaned down to find your lips once more before he said, “I would really like to take you out to dinner sometime.”

You kissed him again and mumbled against his lips, “I would like that, too.”

His smile was soft when he purred, “Goodnight. I had a great time tonight.” 

Right when you wanted to respond, you remembered something. Your facial expression must have given it away, because Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “What’s wrong?” 

Without really thinking about it, you told him, “I can’t get out of this dress alone.”

His saccharine smile morphed into a playful smirk. “Is that so?”

“I know that sounds like the lamest excuse to… you know,” you giggled. “But it's true. Penelope had to help me put it on earlier. There’s no way I’ll be able to get it off on my own.” 

Instead of teasing you some more, Spencer simply followed you inside your apartment. You lost the ability to form any coherent thought once you turned around and Spencer touched your back to undo the zipper. He opened it all the way down to the small of your back. The way his knuckles brushed over your exposed skin was intoxicating.

Once the dress dropped to the floor, you turned around again. Spencer let his sight wander over body for a split second before he found your eyes. You noticed how his fingers twitched and he licked over his lips. 

“If you don’t tell me to leave right now I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”

You stepped closer to him and whispered, “Stay.” 

That was all he needed to hear. His hands were on you in an instant, exploring the curves and dips of your body while your bodies melted into one another in a passionate kiss. With joined forces you helped each other shed each piece of clothing as you stumbled into your bedroom. Spencer pushed you onto the mattress and you welcomed him on top of you. 

He began trailing kisses down your neck before biting down on your pulse point. Your whole body felt like it was floating on a cloud as you felt his lips wandering over your skin. 

“Would you have let him take your dress off, too?” He mumbled against your neck.

It took you a moment to realize that he was talking about Anderson. “No,” you sighed. “I’m yours, Spencer.”

He moaned in response to your words and found your lips once more. One of his hands wandered down your body, greedily grabbing at your skin until it found its destination between your legs. The moment he noticed that you were already dripping with desire for him, he groaned, “You’re mine.”

Your whole body felt like it was on fire when he began dragging his fingertips through your slick folds. When he focussed on your little bud, you couldn't help but start to grind your core against his hand. Your own hands became curious and wandered from his shoulders down his body until your fingers could wrap around his hardness. 

The sounds of his pleasure spurred you further on as you moved your hand up and down, letting your thumb glide over his weeping tip. He felt hot and heavy inside your palm and you got impatient to find out how good he’d feel inside of you. 

Spencer's eyes followed your hand when it let go of him to grab a condom from the nightstand instead. He was quick to put it on before kneeling between your legs. The way he took a moment to let his eyes graze over your body almost felt more intimate than anything you had done until then. 

When he leaned over you he reached between your bodies to guide his cock to your opening. Your body welcomed him without any resistance and you relished the sensation of him filling you out perfectly. 

“Fuck!” He groaned as you clenched around him. “I have wanted to do this for so long.” 

With your arms and legs wrapped around his body you brought him impossibly close. 

“Take me,” you demanded before kissing him again.

He began pushing into you, slowly at first but with an accelerated pace once he seemed sure that you could take it. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure and your bodies colliding over and over again. 

When he felt you getting tighter around him, he propped himself up on one arm and  reached down between your bodies with his other hand. When he found your most sensitive spot, he instantly began drawing tight circles around it. 

“Are you gonna come for me?” He sighed as if it hadn’t been obvious. 

You were already too far gone to answer him, your climax taking the both of you by surprise. When he felt your walls pulsing around his hardness he praised you, “Good girl.” 

Just a few moments later he fell over the edge himself, throbbing inside you before collapsing into your arms. He began mumbling sweet nothings into your ear while your fingertips danced over his back. 

After cleaning up, you found your home in each other's arms. 

“I’m really glad I got to experience my first prom with you,” Spencer cooed before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I can’t believe you almost went with Anderson though.”

“I can't believe you almost didn’t ask me out,” You snickered in response.

“Fair point.”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @purpledsky @super-nerd22 @velvetthunder93

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Room To Breathe - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) and Nicholas’s relationship thrives despite the pressures of his work, but as the demands of his career escalate, (Y/N) starts to make small sacrifices that soon begin to pile on.

warnings: 18+, fingering, exhibitionism, binding, hair pulling, spanking, choking, biting, established relationship, dom/sub

required listening: Enjoy The Silence by Depeche Mode

word count: 29,523

a/n: yall this one rlly took so much out of me, im gonna have to take a break and really think abt what i can write for the next part ☠️ Maybe what i can do is instead of writing long parts with overarching plots, i can do little vignettes into their lives? idk pls let me know!! i would love to discuss, crying emoji

Room 5 (Part 1) | Making Room (Part 2) | Room On Fire (Part 3)

reblogs, likes, and replies are appreciated and lets me know if you'd like to see more!

It all felt like a dream at first. How couldn’t it? After years of losing myself in the fictional worlds of books and movies, wondering what my own life would be like if I were one of those characters, I suddenly found myself thrust into a whirlwind story of my own.

Within the past year, I’ve managed to do more things than I had done in a lifetime — one of those things having been following my boyfriend, Nicholas, to New York to see where what the world might have to show me outside the confines and expectations of my home, of what my mother told me my life should be like, of what I had grown accustomed to.

The cold air hit me first when we landed, but it was the weight of the city — the noise, the lights, the people — that left me breathless. Never did I picture myself becoming one of the countless droplets of water in the sea of strangers that was New York.

I felt Nicholas’s arm wrap around my waist as I stared out to the twinkling buildings in that moment, kissing my temple, the hot breath leaving his nostrils and enveloping my face in a visible whisper that left just as quickly as it appeared. “Thank you for coming back with me,” he whispered into the shell of my ear and rubbed my sides, warming me up.

I had been so overwhelmed with emotion then, scared but hopeful of the journey that lied ahead, that all I could then was lean into his touch and plant a soft, thankful kiss on his lips. I’d hoped it could convey all the words that were lodged at the back of my throat, what I couldn’t let out. Nicholas, the one I’d do anything for, understood completely, gently taking my hand then and leading us to the taxi that would take us to his rented apartment in the city.

That night, he was in no rush to share me with anybody else just yet. The city hummed outside, alive with a pulse that felt both foreign and thrilling, but inside the one-bedroom apartment, it was just us in the stillness. The world outside could wait.

His apartment wasn’t anything fancy like a double-height artist’s loft. In fact, it reminded me a lot of his apartment back in Los Angeles — functional but modestly stylish. It was just a little impersonal, as though it was waiting for someone to truly settle in and make it a home. And Nicholas did. There were stacks of scripts strewn about the coffee table, each of them with different color sticky notes sticking out of them, some open and written all over. There was a jacket or two draped across the brown leather sofa. And his gym bag was left forgotten near the front door, some dirty clothes spilling out of the top.

What had amused me the most were the types of art hanging on the exposed brick walls. They looked like cheesy 1980s watercolors, like the ones you’d find now in a roadside motel or the art section in a Goodwill. Clearly, Nicholas hadn’t picked them out. They clashed with the otherwise neutral, understated decor of the space, their bright, pastel hues seeming almost comical.  But that was what made this space feel so temporary, like a stage set ready to be dismantled at a moment’s notice.

Nicholas helped me in removing my coat, carefully peeling it away, “Are you feeling takeout or home-cooked tonight?” He asked with a small smile.

I hesitated, looking around the apartment as I tugged my scarf down, hanging it on a hook by the door. The question was simple, but as I looked outside the large windows, out to the endless lights, I couldn’t help but feel the unspoken weight behind it. To him, the question was just about what food I wanted. To me, the question was about whether I would let myself fall completely into this new bustling city or continue to seek the comfort of my home.

I smiled softly, turning back to him. “Takeout,” I finally said, my voice steadier than I expected. “Something easy on the stomach.”

Nicholas nodded, his face lighting up with that easy grin that made my heart squeeze. “Takeout it is,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

I watched him for a moment as he scrolled through options, his brows furrowing slightly in concentration. It was such a small thing, but it grounded me — this reminder that even amidst the chaos of the city, there were still simple, familiar routines. Like ordering takeout on a bitter cold night in.

While he ordered, I took my luggage and wandered further into the apartment, letting my fingers trail over the back of the leather sofa. The soft creak of the material under my touch was oddly comforting, a tactile reminder that I was here, in this moment, in his space. My fingers traced over every surface it passed as I made my way over to Nicholas’s bedroom, setting my luggage down on the ground and kneeling before it.

Oddly enough, the ritual soothed me. I knew that by unzipping my luggage that it meant I could slow down and lord knows I needed that right now. I started to pull out all the items I needed for the night — my pajamas, my toiletries. I smoothed out the fabric of my pjs as I placed them on the edge of the bed, my fingers brushing against the soft linens. Surprisingly, Nicholas’s scent still lingered faintly in the room, even after being out of town for two weeks. It was a small comfort amidst the unfamiliarity of the city outside.

As I zipped my bag shut, I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps behind me. I turned to see Nicholas leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed casually but his gaze warm and intent. He had peeled away his jacket and kicked off his shoes, and the sight of him like that, relaxed but still impossibly put-together, sent a flicker of warmth through me.

“Food’s gonna be here in twenty minutes,” he said, his voice low and easy.

I nodded, turning to face him, and was met with that boyish grin that still managed to catch me off guard every time. “Good,” I said, my voice lighter now. “I’m starving.”

His eyes flicked to the neatly folded pajamas on the bed, and a small smile tugged at his lips. He stepped closer, the faint creak of the floorboards under his weight breaking the silence, and pulled me up off the floor, his hands resting on my waist. “Settle in, ok?”

I felt my cheeks warm at his words, a flutter of something indescribable sparking in my chest. Indeed, I did have to settle in. This wasn’t just a weekend getaway. I had basically just moved in with my boyfriend of 10 months until further notice. The realization hit me as softly as his touch: this was it. This was my life now. The thought should have been daunting, but with Nicholas standing so close, his presence steady and reassuring, it felt… manageable. Maybe even exciting.

I nodded, murmuring in agreement as I let myself lean into him for a moment. His hands didn’t leave my waist, and I felt the faint press of his thumbs moving in lazy circles over the fabric of my sweater. It was a small gesture, but it grounded me, just like everything else about him seemed to.

“Okay, I’ll go shower in the meantime,” I spoke softly, my lips growing into a smile. I quickly kissed Nicholas and reached for the stuff I had laid out on the bed.

As I gathered my things, Nicholas’s hand brushed lightly against mine before he let me go, his warmth lingering even as I stepped away. There was something so natural about the ease in his movements, the way he leaned against the doorframe for just a moment longer before turning back toward the living room. It was a rhythm I was beginning to recognize, one that felt like it could become our own.

The bathroom was small but functional, with tiles that had seen better days and a mirror slightly fogged at the edges. It wasn’t glamorous, but it didn’t need to be. I turned on the shower, letting the steam rise and fill the room as I carefully laid my toiletries on the counter. The sound of water rushing was calming, a momentary escape from the whirlwind of thoughts that had been swirling in my mind since we’d left my house.

As I stepped under the hot stream, the tension in my shoulders began to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of calm. The warmth seeped into my skin, soothing the chill that had clung to me from the cold air outside. I let my mind wander, focusing on the simple act of washing away the day, and allowed myself to relax for the first time this entire day.

By the time I finished, the air in the bathroom was thick with steam, and my skin was warm and flushed. Wrapping a towel tightly around myself, I quickly dried my hair just enough to stop the water from dripping down my back, then slipped into my pajamas — a soft, oversized sweater and a pair of tight shorts.

I stepped back into the bedroom and caught the faint scent of food drifting through the air. I padded into the living room, where Nicholas was sitting cross-legged on the floor, unpacking containers of takeout and arranging them neatly on the coffee table. He looked up when he heard me, his smile easy and genuine, and motioned for me to join him.

“Food’s still warm,” he said, his tone light, as if everything about this moment was perfectly normal. And maybe it was — maybe this was what normal could look like for us now.

I sank down beside him, the smell of spices and soy sauce making my stomach growl. We ate together in comfortable silence at first, the clink of chopsticks against plastic containers punctuating the quiet. Then, little by little, the conversation started to flow — lighthearted jokes, stories from the flight, musings about the city outside the window. I caught him stealing glances at me between bites, his soft smile warming the space more than the radiator ever could. I teased him lightly, nudging his leg with my foot, and he laughed, the sound low and intimate in the small apartment. It was a simple meal, but it felt special in a way I couldn’t quite articulate. It reminded me of our time in Los Angeles, except we were 10 months older now, maybe just a tiny bit wiser, and it was winter in New York.

After we finished eating, Nicholas tidied up, gathering the empty containers and bringing them to the kitchen. I stayed on the floor for a moment, letting the contented haze settle over me before standing and wandering back to the window. The cityscape was mesmerizing, the lights reflecting against the glass like a living mosaic. My fingers rested lightly on the icy cold glass, sending a titillating chill up my spine. My breath fogged a small patch of the window as I leaned closer to take it all in.

Outside, the city stretched out endlessly, its lights twinkling like a thousand tiny stars in reverse. It was overwhelming and beautiful all at once, the sheer scale of it reminding me just how small I was in the grand scheme of things. It was so different from the quiet, predictable streets I had grown up on. It was intimidating and exciting all at the same time. I then felt Nicholas’s presence behind me, his warmth steady and grounding, and suddenly I didn’t feel so small.

He wrapped his arms around me, pressing a kiss against my temple. “You’ve been staring out there a while,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. His lips brushed against the curve of my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine despite the warmth that surrounded us.

I leaned back into his chest, letting his presence anchor me as my fingers lingered on the glass. The cold from the window contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, making the moment feel even more electric. My breath hitched slightly as his hands slid from my waist, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path over my hips.

“It’s mesmerizing,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, more to myself than to him. The city lights below sparkled like a never-ending galaxy, but all I could focus on was the way his touch sent waves of warmth through me, grounding me amidst the chaos outside. Suddenly, a cheeky grin grew on the corner of my lips. “Can that building across the way see us?”

Nicholas chuckled softly behind me, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck as he tightened his arms around me. “Probably,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the vibrations sending a thrill down my spine. His fingers trailed along the waistband of my shorts, deliberate but unhurried, as if daring me to push the moment further. “Does that bother you?”

I bit my lip, my gaze flickering between the glittering lights of the city and the faint silhouettes visible through the neighboring windows. The thought of being seen—of this intimate moment being observed by strangers—made my pulse quicken, a mix of exhilaration and nervousness coursing through me. “I don’t think I care. They seem so small,” I admitted, turning my head slightly to catch his gaze in the faint reflection on the glass. “What about you?”

Nicholas smirked, his eyes darkening with the kind of confidence that made my knees weak. “I think I can handle it,” he replied, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. His hands slid lower, settling firmly on my hips as he pressed his body closer to mine. The steady rhythm of his breathing against my back only heightened the tension simmering between us.

The city outside seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat, the lights blurring slightly as I leaned my head against him. “Then do it,” I said, my voice bolder than I felt. “Right here. Against the window.”

For a moment, everything stilled. The air between us grew heavy, charged with the weight of my words. Then Nicholas’s hands tightened their grip on my hips, his fingers digging in just enough to send a spark of anticipation through me. “Are you sure?” he asked, his tone serious despite the clear hunger in his eyes.

I turned my head to glance at him, the smirk on my lips matching the fire in his gaze. “Absolutely.”

He smiled against the apple of my cheek, kissing the corner of my eye. “Whatever you want, baby,” he whispered, his hand splayed across my tummy and pushing me closer to him before letting his hand venture downward.

Nicholas’s movements were deliberate, every touch an unspoken promise. The anticipation coiled tightly in my stomach as his lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear, brushing featherlight kisses that made my breath hitch.

“Keep your eyes on the city, ok?” he murmured against my skin, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down my spine.

The words sent a flush of heat through me, pooling low in my belly as I pressed my palms flat against the window. The city lights twinkled below, an endless expanse of life and movement, but the only thing I could focus on was the tension building between us, the way his hands molded to my body like he was memorizing every curve.

His fingers found the hem of my shorts, teasing the fabric upward before slipping beneath, tracing slow, deliberate circles against my throbbing self. I exhaled sharply, my breath fogging the glass in front of me. Nicholas’s other hand slid up my sweater, his fingers grazing my nipple, setting fire to every nerve he touched.

I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears, echoing the rhythm of the city below. His fingers tugged my shorts down with agonizing slowness, the cool air against my thighs only heightening the heat radiating between us. The fabric pooled at my ankles, forgotten as he gripped my ass and pressed his hips against mine, pinning me lightly to the glass.

Nicholas’s hands roamed my body with purpose, one tracing the curve of my spine while the other dipped lower, coaxing soft gasps from my lips. He shifted behind me, his movements deliberate and slow, his body heat engulfing me as he leaned in closer. The glass was cold against my flushed skin, but Nicholas was everywhere else, his warmth, his strength, his presence anchoring me.

As his hand traveled further down, a quiet cry escaped me as I felt him insert his fingers inside me. Instinctively, I fluttered my eyes shut at the sensation and threw my head back onto Nicholas’s shoulder, whimpering.

“Nonono,” he spoke softly, carefully using his other hand to turn my chin back toward the window. “Keep looking out,” he whispered, his voice strained but full of control.

I obeyed, my gaze fixed on the sprawling skyline. The city stretched before me like an infinite tapestry of light and movement, a living, breathing thing that seemed to pulse in time with my rapid heartbeat. The glass beneath my palms was cool and unyielding, grounding me even as Nicholas’s touch sent me spiraling into a haze of sensation.

“Do you see it?” he murmured against my ear, his voice low and rich.

I fought back a moan, mustering up my energy to answer him. “I see it,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Nicholas smiled against my skin, his lips brushing lightly over the curve of my neck. “Good,” he murmured, his voice a blend of satisfaction and restraint. He continued to thrust his fingers, the wet sound and our breaths filling the space. “All of that…”

The city stretched before me, an endless canvas of glittering lights and moving shadows, but it was Nicholas’s voice grounding me, his words weaving into the hum of the city.

“It’s yours,” he said, his voice low and rough, a quiet command. His hand pressed against my lower stomach, his fingers inside me moving in a rhythm that felt synchronized with my pulse.

I pressed my forehead against the glass again, my breath creating soft, foggy patches that quickly faded. The cold surface was a sharp contrast to the fire building within me, and I couldn’t help but arch into Nicholas’s touch. His other hand traveled up, resting lightly on my shoulder before trailing down my arm, his fingers brushing against mine as they flattened against the window.

“Keep your hands there,” he murmured, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. “I want you to feel how far you’ve come, how high up you are right now.” His lips trailed down the side of my neck, and I shivered at the mixture of his warmth and the cool air brushing against my skin.

Each point of light blurred and sharpened as my focus shifted, but Nicholas never let me forget where I was. His hand moved from my stomach to tilt my chin up gently, guiding my gaze higher toward the horizon. “That’s all out there for you,” he whispered.

His words sent a rush of heat through me, tangling with the tension he built with his touch. I wanted to answer, but my voice caught in my throat, replaced by a soft moan as his fingers curled inside me, hitting a spot that made the world outside blur completely.

“Focus, baby,” he said, his voice both gentle and teasing. “Eyes on the city.”

I forced myself to steady my breath, to anchor my gaze on the skyline as Nicholas continued his deliberate rhythm. For a moment, I felt as though I were floating above it all, weightless and untouchable. The glass beneath my palms seemed to hum with the energy of the city, and I let that energy flow through me, blending with the pleasure Nicholas was building in waves.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with reverence. His free hand slid around to my waist, holding me steady as he pressed a kiss to the back of my shoulder. “You don’t even realize it yet, do you? How strong you are. How beautiful.”

I whimpered softly, his words pushing me further toward the edge. My reflection in the glass caught my eye, and for a moment, I saw myself as Nicholas seemed to see me — powerful, vibrant, alive. The flush in my cheeks and the wildness in my gaze mirrored the city’s intensity, and I felt a surge of something unfamiliar but thrilling: pride.

“Nicholas…” I managed, my voice breathless, more of a plea than a statement.

“I’ve got you,” he replied instantly, his hand tightening on my hip, his voice filled with steady reassurance. “I’ll always have you.” He kissed the side of my neck, his lips soft and deliberate, as though he were trying to leave a mark that went deeper than skin.

His touch grew more insistent, the tension inside me coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I might shatter. My eyes stayed locked on the skyline, the city’s pulse becoming my own, the boundary between me and the world outside blurring until there was nothing but light, heat, and movement.

And then, with one final, deliberate motion, Nicholas sent me spiraling. My body trembled against the glass as I cried out softly, my fingers curling into fists against the cold surface. The city outside seemed to explode with light, the skyline shimmering in my vision as every sensation crashed over me in waves. Nicholas’s hands stayed firm on my body, grounding me as I rode the high, his quiet murmurs of praise and reassurance the only sound that broke through the haze.

When I finally stilled, my breathing ragged and my legs trembling, Nicholas wrapped his arms around me fully, pulling me back against his chest. He kissed the top of my head, his lips lingering as though sealing the moment.

“You’re amazing,” he said softly, his voice filled with awe. “Never forget that.”

I let my head rest against his shoulder, my gaze drifting back to the skyline. The city still pulsed with life, but now it felt like a part of me, as though I’d claimed it, made it my own. And with Nicholas’s arms around me, his warmth and strength anchoring me, I knew I could face whatever came next.

And for a while I did.

While Nicholas started filming again, I still had a few days left of my holiday break before having to start remotely. I took advantage of that time to venture out into the city and explore places around the neighborhood. I didn’t keep track of time as I walked, letting my curiosity guide me. There was something freeing about having no responsibilities, at least not yet, in such a big city.

The neighborhood was a mix of old-world charm and modern chaos. Brownstones lined the quieter streets, their stoops decorated with potted plants that defied the winter chill. On the busier avenues, cafes and boutique shops jostled for space, their windows fogged up from the warmth inside. I ducked into one of them—a tiny coffee shop with mismatched furniture and the faint smell of cinnamon in the air.

The barista greeted me with a smile, and for a brief moment, I felt like a regular, as though I’d been here countless times before. I ordered a tea and found a spot by the window, watching the city outside. The people rushing by were a mix of hurried professionals, bundled-up families, and tourists clutching guidebooks. I sipped my coffee and let the scene wash over me.

The streets became less intimidating, their rhythm familiar as I mapped them in my mind. I passed a bookstore with a worn wooden sign hanging above the door, its display filled with second-hand novels that begged to be explored. A florist’s shop caught my eye, the bursts of color behind the glass a stark contrast to the gray skies outside. I promised myself I’d return to both places soon.

I stumbled upon a small park nestled between two buildings, its trees bare but still beautiful against the backdrop of the city. I sat on a bench for a while, letting the sounds of New York surround me — the distant honk of car horns, the chatter of people passing by, the hum of life moving forward.

By the time I returned to the apartment, Nicholas would already be home, sprawled out on the couch with a script in hand, his face lighting up the moment I’d walk through the door.

“How was your day?” he asked, setting the script aside as he stood to greet me. His arms wrapped around me, and I leaned into his warmth, the familiar scent of him instantly soothing.

“Perfect,” I said honestly, looking up at him. “I did so much,” the excitement in my voice was palpable as I removed my jacket and sat back down on the couch with Nicholas to tell him all about my day.

And that routine of me out exploring as if I had all the time in the world would continue through to the day I had to start work again, but I didn’t let that stop me.

I balanced my work with the thrill of exploring the city, and it felt like I had struck gold. My remote job gave me the freedom to pick any spot in New York as my office for the day. One morning, it was a cozy little café with. The next, it was a seat by the window at the bookstore, surrounded by the faint smell of old paper and whispers of passing customers. I was productive, inspired even, with the city humming around me like a constant companion. It felt like I had the world at my feet.

But the novelty didn’t last.

Soon, the bustling energy that had initially fueled me started to feel more like a distraction. The noise of steaming espresso machines and the chatter of strangers became harder to tune out. I’d catch myself staring out of the window for too long, watching people live their lives, while my own tasks piled up. Deadlines started to feel tighter, and my focus waned.

I decided to shift gears and work from home, thinking it might help. Nicholas’s apartment was quiet during the day while he was filming, and I figured I could finally focus without interruptions. At first, it was a relief. I didn’t have to worry about finding a seat in a crowded café or whether my laptop battery would last. I could just settle into the small desk in the corner of the apartment and get things done.

But that relief was short-lived, too.

The walls of the apartment that had once felt like a cozy retreat now felt confining. I’d look out the window and see the city stretching endlessly before me, a living, breathing organism, and I’d feel trapped. The hours bled into each other as I worked, the vibrant city outside reduced to background noise. I began skipping lunch breaks, telling myself I’d make up for it by exploring in the evenings, but by the time Nicholas came home, I was too drained to go anywhere, and so was he.

I started to dread opening my laptop in the mornings. The notifications blinking on the screen felt like tiny weights dragging me down. Projects that once felt manageable became daunting, and my to-do list seemed to grow faster than I could check things off. I’d sit at the desk for hours, the same desk where I’d once felt so confident about this new chapter in my life, and stare blankly at the screen. The apartment was silent, save for the occasional hum of the radiator or the muted sounds of the city filtering in through the windows.

Working remotely had sounded like a dream when I first took the job — freedom, flexibility, the chance to be anywhere in the world. But in practice, it had become suffocating. Without colleagues nearby to chat with or a change of scenery to break up the day, my motivation dwindled. The tasks blurred together, and the once-rewarding feeling of completing something gave way to an unrelenting sense of monotony.

The hours ticked by slower and slower. The same four walls that had once felt comforting now loomed over me, oppressive and inescapable. I would take breaks to stretch or make a cup of tea, but even those moments felt hollow. Quickly, I started to associate the apartment with work, and that was a dangerous concoction. I tried to convince myself it was just a phase, that I’d adjust, but the stress began to pile up.

Days started to blur together, and the isolation crept in slowly, like a shadow at the edges of my days. I’d hear the faint laughter of neighbors in the hallway or the hum of life outside the window and feel an ache in my chest. I was in one of the most exciting cities in the world, but I felt like I was missing out on everything. While the world moved at a breakneck pace outside, I was stuck behind my laptop, the glow of the screen my only connection to the world. Thankfully, though, I always had weekends off, which gave way for me to decompress for a day or two, until the cycle started again.

The city started to feel colder, too.

At first, the cold made me feel alive. I had loved the way it nipped at my cheeks as I walked briskly through the streets. The sharpness of the wind felt cleansing, like it was carving out a new version of me. The scarves and coats were comforting, a cocoon of warmth against the chill. I’d sip on steaming cups of coffee, the heat blooming in my hands as I watched the puffs of my breath mingle with the city air.

And the snow… Oh, the snow was so magical. I hadn’t seen snow since I was 4 years old. It was the first time it had snowed in my hometown in over 20 years. It wasn’t many inches, but It was enough to build a mud-covered snowman with grass sticking out of all the wrong places, and I enjoyed it all the same. So one night, when it started to snow while I was out exploring, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I quickly took as many photos and videos as I could, excitedly texting Nicholas what was happening. The snow was so romantic.

But over time, the cold began to wear me down.

It crept under my skin, turning the once-refreshing breeze into an icy bite that seemed to settle in my bones. The excitement of bundling up in layers gave way to frustration as I struggled with stiff zippers and gloves that never seemed to warm my fingers enough. Every trip outside felt like a chore, the gusts of wind slicing through my resolve. My lips became perpetually chapped, no matter how much balm I used, and my nose stung from the relentless chill.

The gray skies that had once seemed moody and poetic now felt oppressive. My skin craved the sun. The early sunsets cast the city in shadows before I’d even finished my work for the day. By the time I’d look up from my screen, the world outside would already be dark, the streets glistening with half-melted snow or slick patches of ice. Walking anywhere became a careful, hesitant shuffle, my focus on avoiding a fall instead of taking in the sights.

Even inside, the cold lingered. Nicholas’s apartment, though cozy, was drafty in places, and no amount of blankets seemed to chase away the chill that settled in the corners. I found myself sitting closer to the radiator, my legs tucked under me as I worked, but the heat felt suffocating after a while. It wasn’t the same warmth that had felt so romantic in those first few days — it was stale, stifling, like a reminder of how much time I was spending indoors.

The cold became another reminder of what I was missing. It made the city feel distant, uninviting. I’d scroll through photos online, seeing people from back home smiling and even enjoying the beach whenever the cold front would die down, basking in sunlight. Sometimes, I swore I could feel the warmth of my hometown kiss me through the screen.

One day, as I sat at the desk in the corner of the apartment, the pale winter light filtering through the window, I realized I hadn’t left the apartment in three days. The thought hit me like a slap, and I felt an overwhelming wave of guilt and frustration. This wasn’t who I wanted to be. I had come to New York for adventure, for a fresh start, for a life that was bigger than the one I had left behind. But the cold — the relentless, biting cold — had made me retreat into myself, had turned the city into something to be endured rather than embraced.

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, and grabbed my coat. The air outside was as harsh as ever, the wind cutting across my face the moment I stepped onto the sidewalk. I pulled my scarf tighter and shoved my hands deep into my pockets, forcing myself to walk down the block. The city was alive, bustling even in the dead of winter, but I felt disconnected from it, like a spectator watching through frosted glass.

I paused at the edge of the park I had visited when I first arrived, the one where the bare trees had seemed so starkly beautiful. Now, the branches looked brittle, almost lifeless, their dark silhouettes clawing at the gray sky. I shivered and turned back, heading home.

By the time I reached the apartment, I was exhausted — not from the walk, but from the effort it had taken to force myself out. Nicholas wasn’t home yet, and the apartment felt colder than ever despite the radiator hissing softly in the corner. I sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, and stared out the window at the city lights blinking in the distance.

And as much as I tried to immerse myself in the city, I couldn’t shake the loneliness of not knowing a single face. In my hometown, I had grown used to the small, comforting interactions that peppered my day: nodding at neighbors as I walked to my car, chatting with the barista at my regular coffee shop, bumping into an old high school friend at the grocery store. There was a familiarity to those moments, a feeling of being seen, of being part of a community.

Here, in New York, I felt invisible.

The sheer number of people I passed each day was staggering. Mornings were a blur of anonymous faces rushing to catch trains or hurrying into office buildings. Even when I ventured out during the quieter midday hours, the streets were still crowded. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to be, their focus fixed on their phones or their destinations. I had never seen so many people in one place, and yet I had never felt so alone.

When I first arrived, I found it exciting. The anonymity was freeing, in a way. I could be anyone, do anything, and no one would judge or remember. But as the weeks turned into months, that same anonymity began to feel like isolation. The faces blurred together, no longer individuals but part of the endless churn of the city.

It struck me one day as I sat in a café near the apartment. I watched a couple laughing over their coffee, their heads close together as they shared a joke. Across the room, a group of friends was chatting animatedly, their laughter cutting through the soft hum of conversation. And I realized I hadn’t had a conversation like that in weeks. Outside of Nicholas and the occasional video call with my family or coworkers, my interactions had dwindled to transactional exchanges: ordering food, paying for groceries, a polite thank-you as I stepped off the subway.

The truth was, I missed belonging. I missed walking into a place and being recognized. I missed the easy smiles of people who knew my name, the warmth of a community that had roots as deep as mine. In New York, I felt like I was floating — untethered, unnoticed, and unconnected.

And so, I retreated further into myself. The more I stayed inside, the harder it became to step out. The vibrant, bustling city that had once seemed so full of possibility now felt like a labyrinth I couldn’t navigate. The faces I passed each day became a blur, and I stopped looking at them altogether. It was easier that way, less painful than acknowledging how distant I felt from it all.

And then there were the days where Nicholas brought his work home with him, and I’m not talking about scripts. I started to notice it in small ways at first — the way Nicholas’s shoulders slumped just a little lower when he walked through the door, the slight hesitation before he smiled at me, the faraway look in his eyes even when we were talking.

And as the days turned into weeks, it became harder to ignore. He would come home later than usual, his scripts tucked under his arm and his face shadowed with exhaustion. Sometimes he’d sit on the couch, staring at the wall for what felt like hours, his expression unreadable. Other times, he’d go straight to the bathroom without a word, locking the door behind him. When I knocked to ask if he was okay, he’d tell me he was fine, his voice steady but distant.

I knew he wasn’t fine. I knew something was weighing on him, pulling him deeper into a space I couldn’t quite reach. And as much as I wanted to give him the space to process whatever he was going through, I couldn’t help but worry. Yes, I had known his filming was gruesome, but now that I was here in person, I had a chance to see how it actually was for him.

One night, after he’d come home particularly late, I decided I couldn’t just sit back and watch him unravel anymore. He had barely said a word to me since walking through the door, his body language tense and closed off. I waited until he’d gone to the bathroom to wash up, then quietly followed, knocking softly on the door before pushing it open.

“Nicholas?” I called gently, stepping into the bathroom. He was sitting on the edge of the tub, his head in his hands, his shoulders trembling slightly. My heart clenched at the sight.

He didn’t look up, but he didn’t tell me to leave, either. Taking that as permission, I knelt in front of him, placing my hands on his knees. “Hey,” I said softly, my voice steady even though my chest felt tight. “Talk to me.”

He finally looked at me, and the pain in his eyes hit me like a wave. “I don’t know if I can,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, understanding more than I could put into words. “Will you let me take care of you at least?”

He didn’t protest as I gently guided him to stand, helping him out of his shirt and pants before leading him to the tub. I turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was warm but not too hot, and added a few drops of lavender oil to help him relax. As the tub filled, I helped him settle into the water, his body sinking into the warmth like he was finally letting himself breathe.

I then removed my own clothes and slipping myself behind him. I grabbed a washcloth and soap, carefully lathering it before running it over his shoulders and back. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel the tension slowly melting away under my touch. I worked methodically, washing away the day’s weight as though I could scrub away the darkness that lingered in his mind.

When I was done, I set the cloth aside and poured warm water over his hair, my fingers massaging his scalp as I worked shampoo into a lather. His eyes fluttered shut, and for the first time in weeks, I saw a hint of peace on his face.

After the bath, I helped him dry off and led him to bed, where I wrapped him in blankets and held him close. He curled into me like a child seeking comfort, his head resting on my chest as I stroked his hair. I whispered soothing words, telling him how proud I was of him, how much I loved him, how strong he was. He didn’t respond, but his breathing evened out, and I felt his body relax against mine.

I cradled him late into the night, my arms never loosening their hold. And I would lay there awake for hours, sometimes into the early morning, listening to the sound of his breathing and feeling the steady beat of his heart. I would lose sleep over him, secretly praying that everything would turn out ok for him with his movie. And that ritual — bathing Nicholas, massaging out his stress, and cradling him at night while I lay awake, my eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep — would become the normal for a few days out of the week.

Still, as much as all the stress weighed on me, I refused to let it show when Nicholas came home. He didn’t deserve to carry my burdens on top of his own, especially when he had been nothing but supportive and kind. Every evening, I made a conscious effort to push aside the heaviness I felt and greet him with a smile. I didn’t want him to think I regretted following him to New York, because I didn’t — not for a second. This was a choice I had made with my whole heart. It was just… a lot. A big change that had happened so fast.

When I heard the sound of his key in the lock, it was like a switch flipped inside me. I’d smooth my hair, check my reflection in the mirror, and take a deep breath. No matter how drained or lost I felt during the day, I wanted him to come home to the same warm, loving partner he had left that morning. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel like he’d uprooted my life for nothing.

“Nicholas,” I’d call out brightly as he walked through the door, his arms full of whatever groceries or takeout he had picked up on his way home. “How was your day?”

He’d smile at me, the weariness in his eyes fading just a little at the sight of me. “Better now,” he’d say, letting out a tired sigh and setting everything down before pulling me into a hug. His arms wrapped around me like a shield, his warmth seeping into me as if he could chase away all the cold, both inside and out. Then, I’d remember that this hug was my favorite part of the day.

And there were so many moments like that — little things that made it all feel worth it, even when the weight of it all threatened to pull me under.

Like the nights we’d spend on the fire escape, bundled up in blankets with mugs of hot chocolate, looking out at the city lights. Nicholas would point out random buildings or make up stories about the people living inside them, his imagination as vivid as ever. “See that one?” he’d say softly, a little tiredness behind his voice from a day’s work, gesturing to a window with a faint glow. “That’s where the writer works. He’s been stuck on chapter three for weeks, but tonight’s the night he finally figures it out.” I’d laugh, the sound echoing into the crisp night air, and for a moment, it felt like the city was ours alone.

Or the Sunday mornings when we’d sleep in, the world outside quiet for once. I’d wake up to find him already awake, his hand lazily tracing patterns on my back. “Good morning,” he’d whisper, his voice warm and soft, and I’d bury my face in his chest, reluctant to leave the cocoon of warmth we’d created. We’d eventually drag ourselves out of bed and make pancakes in the kitchen, the smell of batter and syrup filling the small apartment as music played faintly in the background.

There were spontaneous adventures too. Like the time he surprised me with tickets to a Broadway show. “You can’t live in New York and not see a show,” he’d said, his grin mischievous as he handed me the tickets. I’d been hesitant at first, unsure about braving the crowded theater, but the moment the curtain rose and the actors took the stage, I forgot all my worries. Nicholas held my hand the entire time, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, and I found myself tearing up — not just at the story unfolding before us, but at the realization that I was living one of my own.

Even the quieter moments carried their own kind of magic. Like when we’d sit side by side at the kitchen table, him going over scripts while I worked on my laptop. The sound of his pencil scratching against the paper was oddly soothing, a steady rhythm that grounded me. Every now and then, he’d glance up and catch me staring at him, and his lips would curve into that boyish grin that never failed to make my heart skip a beat.

Then there were the rare evenings when he’d come home early, his arms full of groceries. “We’re cooking tonight,” he’d announce, refusing to let me lift a finger as he clumsily attempted to recreate a recipe he’d found online. The kitchen would inevitably end up a mess, with flour on the countertops and sauce splattered on the stove, but the laughter we shared made it all worth it. And somehow, the food always tasted perfect, even when it didn’t look like it.

Or the absolutely unforgettable sex we’d have. Like the time we had hooked up in the back of a town car on the way home from a rare fancy date during a particularly long stretch of traffic.

It had started innocently enough—just the two of us basking in the afterglow of an amazing night out. Nicholas had pulled out all the stops for the evening: a dinner reservation at an exclusive restaurant with dim lighting, soft music, and impeccable food, followed by drinks at a rooftop bar that offered a breathtaking view of the city. We’d laughed and flirted like it was our first date, the world outside momentarily forgotten.

By the time we slid into the backseat of the car, my cheeks were flushed from both the cocktails and the way Nicholas had been looking at me all night. His hand rested on my thigh, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. At first, it was casual — fingers tracing lazy circles as we chatted about the night. But as the traffic crawled to a halt and the hum of the city surrounded us, the air between us shifted.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered something that sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and filled with mischief, and before I could respond, he closed the distance, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was anything but innocent. It was slow and deliberate, his hand sliding higher up my thigh as he deepened the kiss. The privacy partition was up, and the driver was oblivious to what was unfolding in the backseat.

I gasped as his lips trailed down my neck, his stubble grazing my skin in a way that made my toes curl. “Nicholas,” I whispered, half a plea and half a warning, though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was warning him against. He grinned against my collarbone, his hands firm as he pulled me onto his lap, the constraints of the small space forgotten as he claimed every inch of my attention.

“You’re irresistible,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. His hands roamed over my body, exploring as though he hadn’t memorized every curve a hundred times before. The lights of the city flickered through the tinted windows, casting shadows that danced across his sharp features, making him look even more devastatingly handsome.

I lost myself in him, in the way his lips moved against mine, in the quiet moans and gasps that filled the confined space. My dress slid higher, his hands moving with a confidence that made my pulse race. There was something thrilling about the moment — the intimacy of it mixed with the possibility of being caught, though I trusted Nicholas to keep everything discreet.

The world outside faded into a blur of lights and sounds, the only thing grounding me being the way his hands gripped my hips, the way he whispered my name like a prayer. Time seemed to stand still, and by the time we arrived at the apartment, I was breathless and flushed, my legs weak as we stumbled inside, unable to keep our hands off each other. It was wild, passionate, and completely us.

It was moments like those — the laughter, the warmth, the passion, the way he made even the most mundane things feel special — that reminded me why I had chosen this life. Why I had chosen him. After 10 months of long distance dating, this was all I ever wanted, to finally be able to have those moments in person, not through a screen. The stress, the loneliness, the cold — all of it faded into the background when I was with him. It was enough to just take it one day at a time. To hold onto the moments of warmth and connection we shared, even as the world outside felt colder and farther away. And when Nicholas kissed me goodnight, his voice soft as he told me he loved me, I told myself that alone was worth all of the stress.

Then, I saw a flash of light at the end of the tunnel.

Nicholas and I were lounging around at home, a rare moment of calm between his long days on set and my own struggles to find balance. The radiator hummed softly in the corner, the apartment dimly lit by the warm glow of a single lamp. Nicholas was sitting flipping through his script, his brow furrowed in concentration, while I laid across the couch with a book above my face, my head on his lap, stealing glances at him every so often.

His fingers absentmindedly traced small patterns on my scalp, his touch gentle yet grounding, like he was tethering himself to me without even realizing it. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of us, a fragile bubble of calm amidst the chaos of our lives.

I wasn’t really reading. The words on the page blurred together. Instead, I stole glances at him, watching the way his brows knit together as he read his script. His lips moved faintly, mouthing lines as his pencil tapped against the armrest in a rhythm only he seemed to know. There was something captivating about seeing him like this — focused, immersed.

When he set the script down, I caught the way his shoulders eased, the tension melting away as he leaned back and let out a soft sigh. His tired smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and I felt a pang in my chest—love mixed with a deep ache for how hard he’d been working. 

His eyes met mine, warm and searching, as his hand brushed over my hair, fingers lingering for a moment before he spoke. “Guess what?”

“What?” I asked, pulling my book down and resting it on my tummy, giving him my full attention.

“Tomorrow’s the last day of filming,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of relief and excitement.

The words last day of filming hit me like a wave, and I could feel my heart swell with relief and joy for him. It was as though a curtain had been drawn back, revealing a glimpse of light after what felt like an endless stretch of shadow. He had been living with Patrick Bateman for months, carrying the weight of him, and I had seen how it had drained him piece by piece. But now, with just one more day to go, he was almost free.

I straightened up, my heart skipping a beat. “Really? That’s amazing, Nic!”

He smiled, reaching for my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me tomorrow. Be there for the last day of filming. And there’s a wrap party right after. I want you there for that, too. To celebrate,” he brushed his thumb across my jaw.

It wasn’t just about finishing the movie. It was about closing a chapter that had consumed so much of him, and having me there to witness it felt like a quiet, profound honor. Of course, I couldn’t deny the invitation.

My heart swelled, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, I felt a flicker of excitement that wasn’t tinged with worry. “I’d love to come,” I said, smiling up at him.

His face lit up with relief and joy, and he pulled me into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around me like he was anchoring himself. “Thank you,” he murmured against my hair. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

I hugged him back just as tightly, feeling a weight lift from my chest.

The thought of seeing him on set, of finally understanding the world he’d been killing himself for, filled me with anticipation. It wasn’t just curiosity; it was a deep-seated desire to understand the world that had consumed him entirely. I wanted to see the passion that drove him, even when it seemed to break him at times. And the wrap party… well, it felt like the perfect way to close this chapter.

I hugged him back just as tightly, feeling a small weight lift from my chest.

The next day, I had woken up before Nicholas. Truthfully, I was so anxious that I could barely sleep a wink. I’m not sure why I felt anxious; maybe I was just anxious for Nicholas. He looked so peaceful, his chest rising and falling steadily, the tension he carried during his waking hours nowhere to be found. It made me ache to think of how much weight he’d been carrying, how much he’d given of himself to this role.

Today was his last day, and I wanted it to start with something good, something grounding. I slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb him. 

In the kitchen, I busied myself with breakfast, trying to shake off the restless energy that had kept me up most of the night. Pancakes seemed like the perfect choice. I whisked together the batter, the sound of the metal bowl and the sizzle of butter in the pan the only noise in the stillness. As I worked, I kept glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until we’d be on set.

By the time the pancakes were stacked high on a plate, golden and steaming, and the coffee brewed, I felt a little more settled. I set the table, placing everything just so, even adding a few berries and a drizzle of syrup to make it perfect. It was small, but it was something I could do for him, a way to remind him of the ordinary joys that existed outside of the roles he played.

When Nicholas finally emerged from the bedroom, his hair tousled and his movements slow with sleep, the sight of him softened me instantly. He rubbed at his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips as he noticed the table. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, his voice warm and raspy.

“I wanted to,” I replied, pulling out a chair for him.

He chuckled softly as he sat down, the sound low and genuine, and for the first time in a long time, I saw a flicker of lightness in him. As we ate, we didn’t talk much — just the occasional comment about the pancakes or a murmured thank you. But it was enough. The quiet was comfortable, the kind that didn’t need filling. Anyway, he still had a few more hours of being in that Bateman state of mind.

After breakfast, we both got ready, the routine familiar but laced with a quiet excitement. Nicholas dressed with care, slipping into a plain shirt and jeans. I opted for something understated, not wanting to draw attention to myself on set.

The car ride to the studio was quiet, his hand resting on my thigh as he gazed out the window, lost in thought. I didn’t press him to talk, sensing he needed the silence. As we pulled up, I felt a strange mix of awe and apprehension. The sprawling set was alive with activity, the air buzzing with anticipation for the final day of filming. Nicholas led me inside, his hand never leaving mine as he navigated the maze of departments and equipment.

First, he led us to the makeup department. The makeup department was a world of its own — a small, brightly lit space filled with mirrors surrounded by bulbs, shelves crammed with powders, brushes, and palettes of every shade imaginable. A team of artists buzzed around, their hands steady as they worked their magic on cast members. Nicholas greeted them with a quiet hello and a tired but genuine smile, clearly at ease in this environment, introducing me to the team that had been helping me transform for the past few months.

He led me to an empty chair in the corner, a spot out of the way where I could sit and observe. “I’ll just be a few minutes, baby,” he murmured, squeezing my hand before letting it go and taking his place in the main chair.

I watched as one of the makeup artists set to work, her hands quick and confident as she transformed Nicholas into Patrick Bateman for what would be the last time. The precision was mesmerizing. She worked on his hair, slicking it back until it gleamed under the lights, and applied the makeup that would give him that unnervingly perfect, plastic look. I couldn’t help but marvel at the detail, the way every brushstroke seemed to chip away at the Nicholas I knew and replace him with someone else entirely.

It struck me then, how much of himself he had to give away to embody this character. Every morning, he sat in this chair, shedding his own identity piece by piece, only to reclaim it at the end of the day. How exhausting that must be.

Once the transformation was complete, Nicholas turned to look at me briefly, his face now Bateman’s, his expression unreadable. He stood and caught my eye, his lips quirking into a small smile, almost as if to say, I’m still here.

“How do I look?” He asked, playfully cocking an eyebrow.

I stifled a chuckle, “Killer.”

Proudly, I took a few pictures of him to remember this momentous day. Perhaps he could use it in a photo dump on Instagram. He nodded toward the door, and I followed him back out into the bustling set.

The soundstage was even more chaotic now, filled with crew members shouting directions, adjusting lights, and moving equipment. Nicholas navigated it all effortlessly, exchanging brief greetings and pats on the back as we made our way to the scene they’d be shooting. I stayed behind him, not wanting to intrude, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from darting around, taking in every detail.

This was his world — the world he had worked so hard to be a part of, the world that demanded so much of him. Watching it unfold in real time felt like being let in on a secret, a glimpse into something sacred and grueling all at once.

The set was meticulously crafted, a cold, sterile replica of an upscale Manhattan apartment. The kind of place Patrick Bateman would inhabit — minimalist, sleek, and devoid of warmth. I stood behind a huddle of what I assumed to be assistant directors and the like watching from some monitors, my thumping out of my chest.

As they called for quiet on set, the noise of the soundstage faded into a tense hush. Nicholas stepped into the scene, his demeanor shifting entirely. It was immediate, like watching a mask fall into place. He moved differently now — stiffer, deliberate, exuding a calculated charm that was distinctly Bateman’s. Nicholas, as Bateman, was seated at a sleek, sterile desk under harsh lighting, his suit crisp and tailored, his tie knotted perfectly — a stark, menacing red. The man I had eaten pancakes with this morning had disappeared, replaced by a predator in a suit. The transformation was startling, even though I’d seen glimpses of it before. But here, in the heart of his performance, it was terrifyingly real, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

As the camera rolled, Nicholas leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the desk, his fingers steepled together. The moment Nicholas opened his mouth, the air shifted. His voice was measured, almost dispassionate, as he delivered Bateman’s chilling words:

“I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip. My nightly bloodlust has overflowed into my days. I feel my pulse quickening, my senses heightening as if I’m plunging into a void… and I’m afraid. Afraid that this is all there is. The numbness, the emptiness.”

The words hung in the air, stark and unrelenting. Nicholas delivered them with precision, his tone devoid of remorse but brimming with a chilling self-awareness. It was unsettling how easily he embodied Bateman’s descent, how his voice carried a weight that felt too personal.

“There is no catharsis,” he continued, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on some unseen point beyond the camera. “I gain no deeper knowledge of myself. No new depths are uncovered. I am simply not there. And I have to wonder… does anyone else see it? Or are we all just… pretending?”

My stomach twisted as I listened. The words felt like they resonated beyond the character, striking a chord I wasn’t prepared for. The loneliness in Bateman’s confession, masked by his indifference, echoed something I’d felt in the past few months — the struggle to connect, to feel like I belonged.

As he continued, Nicholas’s delivery sharpened, his voice rising ever so slightly as the monologue neared its end. “This confession has meant nothing,” he said, the finality in his tone like a door slamming shut.

Luca, the director, yelled, “Cut,” and the tension broke. “That’s a wrap!”

The room erupted into applause. Crew members cheered and clapped, some even whistling, but I stood rooted to the spot, my heart pounding. Nicholas didn’t move right away; he stayed in his chair, staring at the desk in front of him. Even as the set bustled back to life around him, he seemed distant, as though some part of him was still in that void Bateman had described.

It was only when Luca approached him, clapping him on the shoulder, that Nicholas finally stirred, blinking as though shaking off the last remnants of Patrick Bateman. He nodded at Luca, forcing a small smile, but as he stood, his movements were slow, heavy. He tugged at his tie, loosening it slightly, and ran a hand through his hair. The mask was gone, but the exhaustion he’d been hiding was clearer than ever.

Nicholas stood at the center of it all, accepting congratulations with quiet grace. He hugged the director, shook hands with the crew, and posed for photos, but there was a weariness to his smile — a quiet emptiness left behind by the months of grueling work.

I watched him approach me, his face softening as he met my eyes. He was Nicholas again — tired, drained, but mine. He didn’t say anything as he reached me, just leaned in and kissed my temple, a silent reassurance that he was okay. Or at least, he would be. Though, I could feel the tension still lingering in his body as he wrapped his arms around me.

“You were incredible, Nic,” I whispered against his chest, my voice thick with emotion.

He didn’t respond right away. When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched mine, as though looking for reassurance. “Thank you for being here, (Y/N),” he admitted quietly.

I nodded, my hand brushing against his cheek. “Always.”

The wrap party that followed was a whirlwind of energy, music, and champagne. Nicholas was at the center of it all, the undeniable star of the night, but he kept me close, his hand finding mine whenever he wasn’t shaking someone else’s. It was surreal to see him celebrated this way, to see how much respect and admiration he commanded. Yet, even in the midst of it all, I could see the tiredness that lingered beneath the surface.

As the night wore on, the party seemed to drain Nicholas more than energize him. He laughed at the right moments, posed for photos with his co-stars, and accepted compliments with a polite smile, but there was an unshakable weariness to his movements. It was the kind of exhaustion that ran deeper than physical fatigue, a heaviness that came from giving so much of himself for so long.

I watched him from across the room as he stood by a small group of producers, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding a glass of champagne. His posture was relaxed, his expression easy, but I knew better. His shoulders sagged slightly, and the faintest shadow lingered under his eyes, the telltale signs of a man who was running on fumes. Even his smiles felt thinner, like they didn’t quite reach his eyes.

At one point, a costumer from the crew approached me, a friendly woman I’d been introduced to earlier in the day. “You must be so proud of him,” she said, her voice warm. “He’s poured everything into this role. You can tell.”

I nodded, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “I am. He’s amazing.”

I’d seen how Bateman had clung to Nicholas, how it had seeped into him in ways I wasn’t sure he even realized. And now that filming was over, I wanted to help him shed that weight. To remind him that he wasn’t Bateman, that he was Nicholas, the man I loved. Just then, I had an idea.

I turned to the costumer, my voice quieter this time. “Would it be possible to get one of Bateman’s ties?”

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile creeping across her face. “A souvenir for him?”

“Something like that,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks warm.

The costumer seemed to understand. “Hold on,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. A few minutes later, she returned with a tie folded neatly in her hands. “Here,” she said, slipping it to me discreetly.

“Thank you,” I said, clutching the tie tightly. It was simple, sleek, and unmistakably Bateman. The color was a deep, commanding red, bold and almost… masochistic.

When Nicholas finally pulled me aside later in the evening, his exhaustion was impossible to miss. “Ready to go?” he asked, his voice low.

I nodded, slipping the tie into my bag without a word. “Let’s get you home.”

The walk back to the apartment was quiet, his hand heavy in mine. When we finally stepped inside, he dropped onto the couch with a sigh, leaning his head back against the cushions. I sat beside him, pulling his legs into my lap, and he let out a contented hum as I started to rub his calves gently.

“You did it,” I said softly. “It’s over.”

He nodded, his eyes half-closed. “Yeah. It’s over.”

But as I watched him, I knew it wasn’t really over — not yet. He carried Bateman with him still, in the set of his shoulders, in the quiet moments when he thought no one was looking. But I had a plan — a way to remind him that he was more than this role, more than the weight it had left behind. Though, I wouldn’t be able to set the plan in motion until our one-year anniversary, which was right around the corner.

So for now, I focused on the man in front of me, the one who had given so much of himself to his craft and was finally ready to rest. I leaned forward, brushing a kiss to his temple. “I’m so proud of you,” I whispered, my voice steady.

And for the first time that night and maybe the last handful of weeks, Nicholas smiled — a real, unguarded smile that reached his eyes.

In the weeks following the wrap of filming, Nicholas threw himself into us completely, as if he were trying to make up for all the time the movie had stolen from us. He planned lazy mornings in bed, pulled me out of the apartment during lunch for weekday picnics in Central Park, and impromptu walks through the quieter streets of the city. He cooked dinners, insisted on movie marathons, and even picked up small gifts for me — a flower from a street vendor, books I’d had on my wishlist for a while, and various sweet treats.

It was sweet, thoughtful, and entirely Nicholas. But even as he smiled, kissed my forehead, and called me “baby” in that soft, low voice that melted me, there was something lingering beneath it all. A tension in his shoulders he couldn’t quite shrug off, a flicker in his eyes when he thought I wasn’t looking. Patrick Bateman still clung to him, like a shadow he hadn’t fully stepped out of.

I noticed it in the way his hand lingered too long on the back of his neck when he thought he was alone, or the slight hesitation in his laugh when he told a story about filming, or when he was just the tiniest bit rougher during sex. There were even nights when he woke up suddenly, his breathing uneven, his hand instinctively reaching for me as if to reassure himself that I was there. He never wanted to talk about it, brushing it off with a smile and a kiss. But I knew better.

I wanted to believe that time and love would be enough to help him leave Bateman behind, that with every breakfast we shared, every laugh we exchanged, and every quiet moment we spent together, he’d remember that he was Nicholas — kind, gentle, and so, so human. But as the days passed, I started to wonder if he needed more than that. If maybe he needed a way to reclaim himself, to take all the weight and intensity he’d poured into that character and channel it into something else. So when our anniversary rolled around, it was pretty much all I thought about.

And Nicholas had plans of his own for our anniversary — grand ones.

A week before the big day, he casually mentioned he had a surprise. “I want to make it special,” he said, his hand grazing my cheek as he leaned in close. “Something we’ll never forget.”

I smiled, intrigued, but he wouldn’t give me any details. It wasn’t until the day of that I finally understood what he meant.

The day started off innocent enough. He surprised me with breakfast in bed, a most glorious spread of tea and Italian crème croissants — the meal I had when we first met each other exactly one year ago on the beach.

As I sat up in bed, the sunlight streaming through the curtains, I couldn’t help but smile at the tray Nicholas placed carefully in front of me. The smell of warm croissants and the delicate aroma of tea instantly transported me back to that day on the beach when everything started.

“Do you remember?” he asked softly, sitting beside me and brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“Of course,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. “How could I forget?”

His lips curved into a smile, and for a moment, I saw the Nicholas I knew so well — the one unburdened by the shadows of his work. We lingered over breakfast, laughing about the titillating details of our first meeting and marveling at how far we’d come. It was easy, natural, and exactly what I needed.

But the day had only just begun.

After breakfast, Nicholas handed me a small envelope. Inside was a handwritten note with only a time written in the most elegant cursive: 7PM

“What’s this?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Your next clue,” he teased, his grin mischievous.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of anticipation. I couldn’t stop thinking about what he might have planned, his cryptic smile every time I asked only adding to my curiosity. When seven o’clock finally rolled around, I found myself standing in front of a sleek black car, Nicholas waiting with the door open, with a bouquet of peonies in hand, looking devastatingly handsome in a midnight blue suit with a dark red shirt underneath, the color combination absolutely stunning.

“You look devastating,” he smiled as he stepped closer, handing me the bouquet and passionately kissing me, even dipping me a bit. He pulled back, smiling down at me as he held me below him, his arms carrying my entire weight.

Smiling, I caressed my hand down his cheek, “And you look absolutely dashing,” I spoke softly.

My eyes fell on the collar of his red shirt, reminding me of the weight of the red tie I slipped into my purse for tonight, and suddenly the bag felt heavy.

He straightened us both, gently guiding me toward the car. His touch lingered on the small of my back, a gesture that spoke volumes without a single word. The peonies rested on my lap, their soft pink blooms a stark contrast to the sleek black interior of the car. I turned to him, curiosity lighting up my face, but he only smiled, his dark brown eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Not one hint?” I pressed as he slid in beside me, closing the door with a quiet click.

“Not a single one,” he replied, leaning back and stretching his arm along the seat behind me. His fingers found their way to my shoulder, tracing slow, lazy patterns. “But I promise, you’ll love it.”

I raised an eyebrow, but the warmth in his gaze made it impossible to do anything but smile. The car hummed softly as we pulled away from the curb, the city’s lights casting fleeting patterns of gold and silver across his face. I studied him in those moments — the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his lips twitched at the corners when he caught me staring. Even now, after everything, he still took my breath away.

Suddenly, cobblestones replaced asphalt, and boutique shops appeared in droves, quickly replacing the modern storefronts of midtown.

“SoHo?” I asked, smiling, looking back out the window.

The streets of SoHo blurred past the windows, a kaleidoscope of boutiques and brick facades, their festive lights twinkling against the evening sky. The drive was short, just long enough to feel like we’d stepped into our own little bubble away from the rest of the world. Nicholas’s hand slipped down to lace his fingers with mine, the simple gesture grounding me as we neared our destination.

The car slowed to a stop outside a boutique hotel, its façade understated yet elegant, the kind of place you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. Nicholas stepped out first, offering his hand to help me out of the car.

The evening air was crisp, wrapping around me like a gentle embrace as I took in the sight before me. The hotel’s warm light spilled onto the sidewalk, casting a golden glow that felt almost magical. I glanced at Nicholas, my heart swelling at the sight of his quiet pride, the way he held the door open for me with a small, knowing smile.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low and intimate, as though this moment was meant for just the two of us.

I nodded, slipping my hand into his. “Always.”

Inside, the lobby was cozy yet refined, with soft lighting and plush seating that hinted at the charm waiting just beyond. The receptionist greeted us warmly, handing Nicholas a key card with a nod and a knowing smile. My curiosity burned brighter, but I didn’t ask. I let him lead me, trusting him in a way that felt effortless.

The elevator ride was quiet, our hands still intertwined. I felt the weight of the red tie in my purse, already planning out the moment I could reveal it to Nicholas in a way that wouldn’t scare either of us.

When the elevator doors opened, Nicholas led me down a hallway to a corner room. He slid the key card in, the lock clicking softly before he turned to me. “Close your eyes,” he murmured.

I gave him a dubious look but obeyed, letting him guide me inside.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice close to my ear. “Open.”

I opened my eyes to a lavish suite that looked like it had been plucked straight out of a 1920s dream. Gold accents gleamed in the soft candlelight, red velvet furniture begging to be touched. The room was covered in extravagant floral arrangements, peonies of all colors. The bed, covered in peony petals and draped in plush, cream-colored linens, beckoned invitingly with a bottle of massage oil by the bedside. There was a small dining table adorned with candles and two dome-covered plates, but I could already smell the delicious scent of a warm steak dinner wafting ever so slightly through the room’s scent of something woody and luxurious. A bottle of chilled champagne, a bowl of strawberries, and warmed chocolate, waited for us on a nearby bar cart.

I stepped inside, taking it all in, and turned to Nicholas, who was watching me with an expectant smile. “Nic, this is gorgeous,” I spoke, dropping my purse in the middle of the floor in complete awe.

“It’s all for you,” he replied, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around my waist. “I wanted tonight to be perfect. Just us, no distractions.”

I leaned into him, my heart swelling. “It’s beautiful, Nicholas.”

He kissed me again then, before taking my hand and leading me over to the king-sized bed that was covered in adorned in pink petals. There was a big, rectangular box resting on top, a huge black bow on the lid.

I glanced at it, then back at Nicholas, my eyebrows slightly furrowed in curiosity. “What’s this?”

“Open it and find out,” he said, his grin teasing as he gestured toward the bed.

I stood at the edge of the mattress, my fingers brushing over the smooth ribbon before carefully untying the bow. The lid lifted easily, revealing a dress nestled inside — sleek and utterly captivating. It was midnight blue, the same color as his suit, and it was the kind of fabric that shimmered with every movement, catching the light in the most mesmerizing way. The neckline dipped just enough to be daring without losing its elegance, and when I pulled it out to admire its entirety, noticing its plunging back, I saw a lingerie set underneath.

The lingerie set — stockings, a garter, a bra, and underwear — beneath the dress was breathtaking. Delicate lace in the same color as the dress, edged with shimmering gold thread that caught the light just enough to feel luxurious without being gaudy. It was the kind of thing that felt both daring and intimate, something designed to make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

I looked up at Nicholas, my cheeks warming as his gaze met mine. There was something in his expression — admiration, anticipation, and maybe just a hint of nerves.

“You picked this out?” I teased, holding up the lingerie with a playful smile.

“Well, I know how much you love lace,” he whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His confidence was evident, but there was a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes that made my heart ache in the best way.

“Who doesn’t?” I asked with a laugh, setting the lingerie and dress back in the box to wrap my arms around his neck and devour him in a kiss. I pulled away after a moment and spoke softly, “It’s beautiful.”

Nicholas’s hands settled firmly on my waist, his thumbs brushing against my sides in a way that sent a shiver up my spine. “Not as beautiful as you,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, like the words were meant for no one else but me.

I smiled, my cheeks warm as I leaned into him, resting my forehead against his. “You’re making it really hard not to jump you right now.”

Nicholas chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. “That’s the idea,” he murmured, his voice playful yet edged with a softness that made my heart flutter. His hands slid up my sides, his touch slow and deliberate. “But we have all night, baby. Let me spoil you first.”

I let out a soft laugh, my hands resting on his chest as I pushed him back just enough to meet his eyes. “You already are,” I whispered, my voice tinged with affection. “You always are.”

Nicholas gave me that smile — the one that always made my knees weak, the one that reminded me why I fell so hard for him in the first place. He stepped back, giving me space to stand, and gestured toward the en suite bathroom. “Why don’t you put that on for me, hmm?”

I nodded, unable to keep the giddy grin from my face as I carried the box with me. The bathroom was as opulent as the rest of the suite, with marble countertops, gilded fixtures, and a deep soaking tub that practically begged to be used. In fact, there were already candles set up all around the edge. But it was the full-length mirror that caught my attention as I set the lingerie and dress on the counter and took a moment to gather myself. My heart raced, not just from the anticipation of the night but from the overwhelming love I felt for Nicholas in that moment.

The lingerie fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for me. The lace clung to my curves in all the right ways. Because the dress had a pretty daring neckline and a plunging back, I decided against the bra, only putting on the stockings, underwear, and garter.

Once I was dressed, I slipped into the midnight blue gown, the shimmering fabric cascading down my body like liquid light. The lingerie beneath added an extra layer of allure, but the slit on the side revealed just enough of the garter to make me feel daring. My hands trembled slightly as I smoothed the fabric over my hips, taking a deep breath to steady myself before stepping back into the suite.

When I opened the door, Nicholas was waiting, leaning casually against the windowsill. His eyes lifted the moment he heard the soft click of the door, and the way his gaze swept over me stole the air from my lungs. He stood up straight, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Wow,” he breathed, his voice low and reverent. “You look… absolutely stunning.”

I felt my cheeks flush under his intense gaze, but I managed a playful smile. “I had a good stylist.”

Nicholas chuckled, closing the distance between us in a few slow, deliberate steps. His hands found my waist, his thumbs brushing against the silky fabric as he took me in. “I think I might be the luckiest man alive,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

My heart fluttered at his words, and I leaned into him, resting my hands on his chest. “I might be the luckiest girl alive,” I teased, my voice soft.

He grinned, his fingers gently tilting my chin up so our eyes met. “This night is just getting started, baby,” he said, his voice full of promise. Though, he himself didn’t know what I had in store for him either. “Shall we?”

Nicholas led me to the small table where the champagne, our dinner, and the strawberries waited. He pulled out a chair for me, always the gentleman, before making his way to the chair on the opposite side, but I motioned for him to pull the chair next to me, not wanting to be apart from him for a second.

Without hesitation, Nicholas moved his chair next to mine, his knee brushing against mine as he sat down. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on either of us. He poured us each a glass of champagne, the golden liquid bubbling softly in the flutes.

As we clinked glasses, he held my gaze, the moment feeling both intimate and electric. “To us,” he murmured.

“To us,” I echoed, taking a sip. The crisp champagne fizzed against my tongue, and I set the glass down before leaning closer to him. My free hand found his knee, and I felt him tense slightly under my touch before relaxing.

Nicholas picked up the domes of our food, tossing them beneath the bar cart, and reached for the silver knife and began cutting into the perfectly cooked steak on my plate, slicing it into bite-sized pieces. His focus was precise, the candlelight flickering against his sharp jawline as he worked. Once he had a piece ready, he held it up with his fork, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Open up,” he teased, his tone warm and playful.

I laughed softly but complied, letting him feed me. The steak melted on my tongue, its rich, savory flavor making me hum in appreciation. “You’re spoiling me,” I said, covering my mouth as I spoke.

We ate quietly for a few moments, the atmosphere intimate and unhurried. I found myself watching him more than eating, wondering if under all of tonight’s charm he still was still carrying all the stress from filming and planning our anniversary on top of that.

As I chewed thoughtfully, my mind drifted back to the beginning — our beginning. It felt surreal to think how much had changed in just a year. That weekend on the beach was supposed to be nothing more than a getaway from my chaotic home, but it turned into the moment my life shifted completely.

“You looked so focused on that book,” Nicholas said suddenly, his voice pulling me out of my reminiscence. It was almost like he could read my mind. Could he? He cut another piece of steak, setting it gently on my plate.

I smiled, shaking my head at the memory. “I was trying to distract myself from the fact I heard my hotel room neighbor,” my eyes flicked to him, “having sex the night before.”

His laugh was low and warm, a sound that always made my heart skip. “As I recall, you were touching yourself to the sounds of my lovemaking.”

“And you deliberately sat next to me on the beach because you knew I could hear you.”

Nicholas smirked, his fork pausing midway to his plate. “Guilty,” he admitted, his voice rich with mischief. “But can you blame me?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to keep a straight face, but the smile playing at the corner of my lips betrayed me. “A little.”

He smiled, cutting another piece of steak with deliberate care, holding out the piece of meat in front of me. I rolled my eyes playfully before taking the bite, but the memory softened something in me. That weekend had been the start of everything — his teasing charm, my cautious curiosity. The stolen glances, the agonizing teasing on his part, the mind blowing sex. Us meeting… it almost felt inevitable.

Nicholas leaned back in his chair, watching me intently as I chewed the steak he’d just fed me. “We were inevitable,” he said softly, echoing my thoughts like he’d plucked them right out of my mind.

I raised an eyebrow, swallowing before speaking. “You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I am,” he replied simply, his gaze steady. “You and me, baby. It was always going to happen. Whether it was on that beach or somewhere else, it would’ve happened.”

His confidence should have been maddening, but instead, it made my chest ache in the best way. I reached out, tracing my fingers over the back of his hand where it rested on the table. “And you’re still this confident a year later?”

Nicholas chuckled, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Especially now,” he murmured.

I smiled, shaking my head at him but unable to hide the warmth blooming in my chest. It was easy to believe him when he looked at me like that, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

He reached across the table, cupping my cheek in his hand. “You make me better,” he said, his words unhurried and deliberate. “And after everything, after these last two months…” He paused, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “I don’t ever want to go back to what life was like before you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I leaned into his touch, my hand covering his. “You don’t have to,” I whispered. “I’m here. Always.”

For a moment, the rest of the world fell away. It was just us, sitting at that candlelit table, the weight of the past year settling into something softer, something full of promise. Nicholas’s eyes searched mine, and I knew he felt it too.

“Happy anniversary,” he said softly, leaning in to press his forehead against mine.

“Happy anniversary,” I whispered back, my voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill over.

We stayed like that for a moment, the quiet hum of the room wrapping around us like a cocoon. Eventually, that sentimental moment had grown into a more light-hearted dinner with conversations about both of our jobs, what other iconic New York landmarks he could take me to, and future date plans.

The steak dinner ended as perfectly as it had started — intimate, unhurried, and brimming with unspoken affection. When the plates were finally cleared, and the champagne glasses topped off, the room seemed to shift slightly. It was time for dessert.

Not wanting to leave my side for a second, Nicholas pulled the bar cart of strawberries and warmed chocolate with the tip of his shoe. The cart held an artful arrangement: plump, glistening strawberries nestled in a bed of crushed ice and a ceramic pot of melted chocolate resting on a low flame, its surface shimmering and inviting. The chocolate was dark and rich, the kind that promised an indulgent bitterness softened by the sweetness of the fruit. As Nicholas carefully moved everything to the table in front of us, a faint curl of steam rose from the pot, carrying the decadent aroma of cocoa through the air.

Nicholas dipped the first strawberry, swirling it through the warm chocolate with deliberate slowness, as if savoring the act itself. The glossy coating clung to the fruit, the contrast between the deep brown of the chocolate and the vibrant red of the strawberry making it almost too beautiful to eat. Almost.

He held it out to me, a small smile tugging at his lips as his eyes met mine. “Taste,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

I leaned forward, biting into the strawberry. The warmth of the chocolate melted into the tart sweetness of the berry, the combination indulgent and utterly divine. I closed my eyes briefly, letting the flavors linger as I hummed in appreciation. Opening my eyes, I said, “Delicious,” licking a bit of chocolate off my lips.

His gaze lingered on my mouth for a moment longer than necessary, and I could see the tension in his jaw as he fought to keep his composure. Nicholas cleared his throat, but his eyes never left my lips.

His hand reached for another strawberry, dipping it deliberately in the chocolate before offering it to me again. “Have another.”

I hesitated for a moment, but the look in his eyes made me lean in. I bit into the strawberry, slower this time, the chocolate melting on my tongue. I didn’t mean to drag it out, but the flavors were too perfect not to savor. When I looked up at Nicholas, his jaw was clenched, his breathing slightly heavier than before.

His lips parted as if to say something, but he shook his head and smiled instead. But he couldn’t resist. He chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Are you doing that on purpose?”

“What?” I asked with a smile but still a little confused.

“You’re eating those strawberries like…” He trailed off, laughing under his breath, his cheeks tinting ever so slightly. “You’re eating them like you’re trying to seduce me.”

I realized then what I must’ve looked like, slowly licking the chocolate off my lips, using the tip of my finger to swipe away any that was leftover. I stifled a laugh, “They’re just that good.”

Nicholas leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with an amused smirk, but his eyes were darker now, filled with something simmering just beneath the surface. “I don’t know if I believe you,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly tone that always sent a shiver through me.

“I’m serious,” I said, laughing softly, though I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. “I wasn’t trying to do anything.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearm on the table, his face closer to mine. “That’s the problem,” he said, his gaze flickering down to my lips. “You’re not even trying, and I’m already losing my mind.”

I felt a rush of heat spread through me, my pulse quickening at the intensity in his eyes. “Well, maybe you should try one,” I said, reaching for another strawberry. “See if they’re as irresistible as I say.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I think I’d rather watch you.”

I bit my lip, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face as I looked down at the strawberry in my hand. “Fine,” I said, holding it up. “But if I keep eating them, it’s on you.”

I took another bite, this time slower, more self-conscious under his watchful gaze. The chocolate and sweetness of the strawberry were almost too good to handle, and I couldn’t help the soft sighs that escaped me. When I glanced up at Nicholas, his jaw was clenched again, his hand gripping the arm of his chair as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

The tension in the room had shifted, thickening with every shared glance and teasing word. Nicholas’s eyes were fixed on me, dark and unwavering, his breath audibly slower as he tried to keep himself in check. The strawberry I had just finished left a faint trace of chocolate on my lips, and I instinctively ran my tongue over it, savoring the lingering sweetness. That small, unthinking gesture seemed to push him just a bit further toward the edge.

Without a word, Nicholas took me by the wrist and guided me onto his lap, the fluid grace of his movements betraying the coiled tension he was holding in. I let myself settle on his laps, sitting sideways over him and crossing my legs as my hand brushed through his hair.

Nicholas’s hands traced up my legs, savoring the stocking’s material. His touch was slow and deliberate, his fingers trailing along the lace edge of the garter where it met my thigh. The warmth of his palms seeped through the delicate fabric, and I felt a tremor run through me as he took his time, savoring every inch of exposed skin. His gaze followed the path of his hands, dark and focused, as though he was committing the moment to memory. Just then, I could feel Bateman’s tie burning a hole through my purse.

“I have something for you,” I whispered.

Nicholas paused, his fingers stilling on my thigh as his eyes met mine, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Something for me?” he asked softly, his voice low and steady.

I left his hold, walking over to where I had abandoned my bag. I pulled the tie out of my bag, my eyes tracing its shape one last time before hiding it behind me as I walked back over toward Nicholas, grabbing him by the hand and leading him to the red velvet chair near the window, motioning for him to sit and settling back into his lap, revealing what I had for him. The deep crimson fabric seemed to gleam in the dim light, a reminder of the character that had lingered in the shadows of our lives for weeks — months — now. I held it up, letting it dangle between us.

Nicholas’s expression shifted immediately. His jaw tightened, and a flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. “You have that?” he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and something heavier — something darker.

I nodded, my fingers brushing over the silk as I met his gaze. “I thought it might help,” I said gently. “Filming’s been done for a few weeks now, but I know how much you’re still carrying, Nic.”

Nicholas’s gaze dropped to the tie, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. His hands rested on my hips, tightening slightly as though anchoring himself.

I leaned in closer, cradling his face with one hand. My thumb brushed over his cheek, tracing the strong line of his jaw. “I know it’s not easy to let go of something so intense,” I said softly, my eyes searching his.

His lips parted as if to speak, but I pressed a gentle kiss there, silencing him. When I pulled back, I held the tie between us again. “I want to help you release it,” I murmured. “All of it. Whatever’s left lingering inside you, whatever you’re holding on to… I want you to let it go. With me.”

Nicholas stared at the tie, his jaw tight. He exhaled slowly, his hands sliding up my sides, his touch steady but hesitant. “Why would you want this? Why would you—”

“Because I love you,” I interrupted, my voice resolute. “Because I see what it’s doing to you, keeping it all bottled up. And because I want to be the one who helps you let go. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore.”

Nicholas looked at me then, truly looked at me, his eyes searching mine for any sign of doubt or fear. When he found none, something in his expression softened. He reached up, taking the tie from my hand, the crimson silk slipping through his fingers.

“You’re sure?” he asked one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, my breath hitching as I whispered, “I trust you. Completely. And I want you to trust me, too.” I spoke softly, my voice steady despite the tremor of anticipation running through me.

He studied the tie for a moment, his fingers tightening around it before his gaze shifted back to me. The hesitation was still there, but it was mingled with something darker now, something raw and unguarded.

I slid off his lap then, standing a few paces in front of him as he stayed anchored to the chair. Slowly, I started to pull away at my dress straps. Nicholas’s gaze darkened as he watched me and his legs parted slightly, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly, knuckles whitening as if bracing himself. The silky straps of my dress slid off my shoulders with ease, the fabric cascading down my body until it pooled at my feet. The midnight blue lace lingerie beneath shimmered in the low light, accentuating every curve of my waist, hips, and legs while my chest laid bare.

His breath hitched, his eyes raking over me with a raw intensity before he closed his eyes, clutching the masochistically red tie in his fist and resting his lips on it, his jaw tight as if he was still deciding what to do. When his eyes met mine, I saw the storm raging within him — the hesitation, the desire, the lingering weight of what he’d been carrying for far too long. I took exactly one step closer, emboldened by the way his restraint felt like a taut wire ready to snap and to let him know that I was okay.

My heart raced as I stood, the anticipation building with every second that passed. The red velvet chair framed him like a king on his throne, and the way his gaze raked over me made my pulse quicken. He was all sharp lines and quiet command, his fingers drumming once against the armrest before stilling, his body humming with restrained energy. He tilted his head slightly, beckoning me over to him. I made my way over to him, taking several steps, but with the subtle lift of his finger, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Nicholas’s breath was heavy, his gaze flicking between the crimson tie in his hand and my face. Slowly, he stood, towering over me. The tension in his body was palpable, his hands shaking slightly as he reached out to cup my face, his touch gentle despite the turmoil within him. I tilted my head into his hand, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve.

His thumb brushed over my cheekbone, his eyes scanning my face as if searching for any trace of fear. When he found none, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease, replaced by something darker, more primal.

“If I go too far, you stop me,” he said, his tone firm but laced with concern. “You say the word, and I stop. Do you understand?”

I nodded, my breath catching as I stepped closer. “I understand,” I whispered, my voice steady despite the rapid beat of my heart.

He stared at me for a long moment, his breathing shallow. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he let out a long sigh, removing his blue jacket. “Turn around,” he quietly commanded.

I hesitated for only a fraction of a second before obeying, the weight of his words sinking in. Slowly, I turned, my back to him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as it swept over me. Every nerve in my body was on edge, the anticipation coiling tightly in my chest. I heard the faint rustle of fabric as Nicholas adjusted his grip on the tie, the silk slipping through his fingers like a whispered promise.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher.

I did as he said, crossing my wrists behind me. A moment later, the cool silk of the tie brushed against my skin as Nicholas wound it around my wrists with a precision that was almost clinical. The knot tightened but it was loose enough for me to wriggle my wrists around easily, as if he was too afraid to tighten it further. If I tried, I could let myself slip away, but I didn’t want to.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. His hands lingered for a moment, his fingertips brushing the curve of my waist before he stepped back. I could feel the space between us, the charged air thick with the tension of what was to come.

“Walk to the bed,” Nicholas ordered, his tone sharper now, his earlier hesitation replaced by a commanding presence that sent a thrill through me.

I started toward the bed, the weight of his gaze following me. The click of my heels was silenced the moment I walked across the plush carpet, and I felt hyperaware of every movement, every breath. When I reached the foot of the bed, I paused, facing the plush mattress with my back to him, unsure of what he wanted next.

A beat passed, and I felt him behind me, close enough for his warmth to ghost over my bare shoulders but not touching. The silence stretched, thick with anticipation, as if he were letting the moment linger on purpose, testing the limits of my patience. My breath hitched when his fingertips finally brushed against the nape of my neck, tracing a line down my spine. The slow, deliberate touch sent a shiver rippling through me, my bound hands twitching slightly behind me.

Slowly, he stepped closer and closer, pinning me between him and the bed until I was forced to bend over, my upper body landing on the bed with a soft bounce while my feet stayed stuck to the floor.

Nicholas’s presence was overwhelming, a physical force pressing against me as he loomed behind, his weight commanding without even a word. The tie around my wrists tightened slightly, the silk unyielding as he pulled it just enough to remind me of his control. The cool air of the room kissed the exposed skin of my back, and I couldn’t suppress the shiver that coursed through me.

His hands slid over my sides, slow and deliberate, his fingers digging slightly into my skin as though marking his territory. One hand gripped my waist firmly, holding me in place as he leaned down, his breath hot against the back of my neck. The sensation sent a jolt through me, and I arched slightly, seeking more contact, but he didn’t give it to me — at least, not yet.

Instead, his lips grazed my shoulder, soft and teasing, before his teeth sank in sharply, leaving a sting that lingered. I gasped, my body jerking reflexively against the restraints. Nicholas’s low growl rumbled against my skin, his hands tightening their hold as though to steady me. His nails dragged down my sides, deliberate enough to leave faint trails that burned with the contrast of pleasure and pain.

“Stay still,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with authority. There was no mistaking the command in his tone, and it sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in my stomach.

I did my best to obey, my breaths coming faster as he worked his way down my back, alternating between soft kisses and bites that left marks I knew would linger. Each press of his teeth was sharp, calculated, a reminder of the control he held. His hands roamed freely, exploring every inch of me with a possessive intensity that left me trembling.

When his hand finally slid around to the front of my throat, I let out a soft whimper, my head tilting back instinctively to allow him access. His fingers wrapped around my neck, firm but not constricting, just enough pressure to remind me who was in charge. He held me there, his thumb brushing over the hollow of my throat in a way that sent shivers racing through my body.

The other hand trailed lower, gliding over the lace of my lingerie before delivering a sharp smack to the curve of my hip. The sound echoed in the quiet room, followed by the sting that bloomed across my skin. I gasped, my body jolting against the bed, but the silk tie held firm. Nicholas’s grip on my throat tightened slightly, his lips brushing against my ear as he murmured, “Good girl.”

The praise sent a fresh wave of heat through me, and I felt myself melt further into his hold. His hand moved again, this time skimming the edge of my garter before slipping beneath it. His nails dragged lightly against the sensitive skin of my thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, his hand came down again, harder this time, the sound and sensation rippling through me.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice rough and filled with a dark satisfaction. “So perfect like this.”

His hand returned to my neck, his grip steady as he pulled me back slightly, forcing me to arch against him. The contrast between the roughness of his hold and the softness of the bed beneath me was dizzying, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body as he pressed closer.

Nicholas’s teeth found the curve of my shoulder again, biting down harder this time, drawing a sharp whimper from me. His free hand slid over my stomach, teasing the edge of the lace before dipping lower, his touch deliberate and teasing. He didn’t rush, didn’t give me what I wanted right away, instead drawing out the tension until every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire.

The next smack landed harder, this time on the curve of my backside, the sting sharp and immediate. My breath hitched, and I twisted slightly against the restraints, lifting my hips up toward him the tiniest bit, my body aching for more. Nicholas chuckled darkly, his grip on my neck tightening just enough to hold me still.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a low growl. His hand slid over the sting, soothing the ache with a gentleness that was almost cruel in its contrast to the sharpness of his earlier touch.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, my body trembling with a heady mix of anticipation and surrender. Nicholas didn’t need an answer; he could feel it in the way I responded to his touch, in the way my body arched into him despite the restraints.

He tugged on the tie, pulling me upright so my back pressed flush against his chest. His hand slipped from my neck to my jaw, tilting my head back so he could claim my mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was rough, demanding, his teeth grazing my bottom lip before he bit down just hard enough to make me gasp.

The silk of the tie bit into my wrists as I struggled slightly, not to get away but to feel more, to push against the limits he’d set. Nicholas’s grip on my jaw tightened, holding me in place as his other hand trailed lower, the tip of his finger trailed achingly down the valley between my breasts all the way to the edge of the lace underwear he had picked out for me. My entire body shivered at the sensation, earning a shaky moan out of me.

“Stay still,” he growled again, his voice a warning and a promise all at once.

The command hung in the air, heavy and electrifying, rooting me in place as his touch sent waves of fire through me. I nodded, barely able to form coherent words, my breathing uneven as Nicholas’s finger traced the lace’s edge, teasing but never quite giving me what I craved. The deliberate slowness was maddening, every nerve in my body tuned to the rhythm of his movements.

Nicholas didn’t hold back. His fingers curled into the lace, tugging just enough to make the fabric strain against my skin. The sound of the delicate material stretching filled the air, blending with the sound of my rapid breathing. His hand returned to my jaw, gripping firmly as he tilted my head to the side, his lips brushing against my neck.

“I told you to stay still,” he growled against my skin, his voice raw, dark, and dripping with control. “But you keep testing me. Do you want me to break you tonight?”

The words were sharp and unapologetic, carrying a heat that burned through me. My knees nearly buckled under the weight of his command, and I gasped, my body trembling as he pushed me forward again, pressing me into the bed. The tie around my wrists tightened with a calculated pull, reminding me just how restrained I was — and just how much power he held.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his palm coming down hard on my ass. The sting rippled through me, sharp and thrilling, making me bite my lip to suppress the cry that bubbled up.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling but sure. “Yes, Nicholas.”

A low growl of satisfaction escaped him, and he leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. “Then don’t hold back,” he commanded, his hand gripping my waist roughly as his other hand tugged on the tie, arching my back just the way he wanted. “I want to hear you. I want to feel you.”

His words pushed me further into the haze of surrender, and when his teeth sank into the curve of my shoulder, harder than before, I cried out, my body trembling under the onslaught of sensation. His free hand slipped beneath the lace, his fingers pressing firmly, rougher than his earlier teasing. There was no hesitation now, no softness — just raw, unapologetic desire that left me breathless.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with satisfaction as he felt the way I responded to him. “So perfect for me.”

The roughness in his touch was intoxicating, the way his hands explored every inch of me, leaving no part untouched. He alternated between sharp, biting smacks that left my skin burning and soothing caresses that only served to heighten the anticipation. The contrast made my head spin, my body caught in the push and pull of his control.

Nicholas pulled me up again, forcing me to meet his eyes. His gaze was dark, burning with a possessive intensity that made my heart race. “You’re mine,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I breathed, the words spilling out without hesitation.

He nodded, satisfied, and his hand gripped my jaw tighter. “Don’t forget it,” he growled before claiming my mouth in a kiss that was fierce and punishing, leaving no doubt of who I belonged to. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, pulling until I gasped, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss until I was left dizzy and desperate for more.

When he finally pulled back, his chest heaved with his own labored breathing, but his grip on me never wavered. “Get on the bed,” he ordered, releasing me just long enough to watch as I struggled to move with my wrists still bound. “Face down.”

I obeyed, my body trembling with anticipation as I crawled onto the bed, the silk tie tugging slightly against my wrists with every movement. The plush linens were cool against my overheated skin, a stark contrast to the fire Nicholas had ignited in me.

His weight shifted the bed as he climbed on behind me, and I felt his hands on my hips, pulling me into position with a roughness that left no room for resistance. “Now, let’s see how much you can take.”

Nicholas didn’t waste a moment. His hands gripped my hips firmly, his fingers digging into the delicate lace of the lingerie, pulling me back toward him with a strength that sent shivers through my entire body. The air was thick with tension, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as he leaned down, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of my lower back before his teeth nipped sharply.

I gasped, the sting blooming into heat, and he chuckled darkly, his voice rough and unapologetic. “You’re trembling already,” he murmured, his hands roaming up my sides before tugging at the tie around my wrists, forcing me to arch even further. “I haven’t even started yet.”

The words sent a thrill through me, and I whimpered softly, every nerve in my body on high alert as his hands slid over the curve of my butt. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, but there was an undercurrent of barely restrained energy in him, a coiled tension that threatened to snap at any moment.

Without warning, his hand came down hard against me, the sharp crack of the impact echoing through the room. The sting was immediate, radiating heat through my skin, and I cried out, my body jolting forward against the restraints.

“That’s it,” Nicholas growled, his hand smoothing over the spot he’d just marked before delivering another sharp slap. “Don’t hold back, baby. Let me hear you.”

I couldn’t stop the sounds that escaped me, a mix of gasps and moans as he alternated between soothing caresses and punishing strikes. Each smack was harder than the last, the sting sharper, and my body arched instinctively, caught in the overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure.

I then felt Nicholas tug down at my underwear, unbuckling my garter to slip it out from under my feet. I shivered at the feeling of the room’s cool air nip at my slick heat. Then, the bed became lighter when he left my side. Desperate for him, I peeked over my shoulder.

Nicholas stood at the edge of the bed, his gaze dark and commanding as he looked down at me. The red silk tie still bound my wrists behind my back, leaving me exposed and vulnerable in a way that sent another wave of heat coursing through me. He took his time, letting his eyes travel over every inch of me, his expression a mix of satisfaction and anticipation.

“Stay just like that,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with an authority that left no room for argument.

I bit my lip, nodding as I turned my head back to rest against the bed. The cool sheets contrasted sharply with the fire burning inside me, and every second of his silence only heightened the anticipation. I could hear the faint rustle of fabric behind me, and my mind raced, imagining what he was doing, what he was planning. The air seemed to shift as he moved closer again, his presence as commanding as ever.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he climbed back onto the bed, his hands sliding over my legs, spreading them apart forcefully. The cool air kissed my most sensitive spots, and I gasped softly, my body trembling under his touch. His hands were steady, firm, as they gripped my hips, pulling me back slightly to align with him.

There was a pause, a beat of silence that seemed to stretch on forever, and then I felt his lips on my lower back, warm and teasing as they trailed upward. He took his time, alternating between soft kisses and rough nips that left my skin tingling.

When his lips reached the nape of my neck, he leaned down, his breath warm against my ear. “Ready?” he murmured.

I nodded, my voice lost to the haze of anticipation that enveloped me. My body felt like it was strung tight, every nerve attuned to the subtle shifts in the air, the warmth of Nicholas’s breath against my skin, the firm grip of his hands on my hips.

He quickly settled between my legs and without warning, inserted himself. I let out a sharp cry, fluttering my eyes shut as he started to thrust, deeply and powerfully. I buried my face into the sheets, muffling my own cries, but Nicholas wasn’t having it. He brushed his fingers through my hair, clutching a fistful and pulling my head back toward him.

“Don’t hide from me,” he growled, his voice low and rough, filled with a commanding edge that sent shivers coursing through me.

Nicholas’s grip on my hair was firm but not painful, his fingers tangling in the strands as he pulled me upright. My back arched, the silk tie biting into my wrists as I gasped, the sound raw and unrestrained as his movements deepened, each thrust sending waves of sensation through me.

I whimpered, my body trembling as his free hand trailed down my side, his touch possessive as he explored every curve. The heat of his body against mine was overwhelming, each movement deliberate and precise as he drove me further into the haze of pleasure. My head tilted back against his shoulder, the sharp pull of his grip keeping me in place as he murmured against my ear, his breath hot and electrifying.

I focused my gaze on him then, noticing the tight furrow of his brows, not of anger but of concern. His eyes searched mine for any sign of discomfort, but I felt none. I encouraged him to continue by leaning into his hold and letting out unrestrained moans.

His movements faltered for a brief moment, as he seemed to process the permission I had given him. Then, as if a dam had broken, he growled low in his throat, his pace quickening as he let go of my hair and threw me back down against the bed.

The intensity of his thrusts left no room for thought, only sensation, my body responding to his every move as he guided me to the edge and back again. Nicholas’s grip on my hips tightened, his hands steadying me as he buried himself deeper and deeper, his breathing ragged as he chased the same release building within me.

He pinned me down against the bed with his arm, resting his forearm across the back of my shoulders and letting his full weight fall on me as he continued his powerful movements. I let out shuddering whimpers, trying to catch my breath as best as I could and at times it felt like I couldn’t breathe, but it felt all the more exhilarating. The way Nicholas was thrusting in and out of me, completely unrestrained and unguarded, was intoxicating.

He lowered his face next to mine, planting a light kiss behind my ear before he buried his face completely into the back of my shoulder, focusing on his thrusts becoming more intense. His breathing became more ragged, breathier.

“No—“ I heard him strain out a whimper as his movements continued.

Nicholas’s movements were relentless, his body pressed tightly against mine as the tension between us built to an almost unbearable peak. The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment, his breaths hot and ragged against the back of my neck. Each powerful thrust sent shivers through me, my body trembling as I let out a cry and surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensation, reaching climax.

But then, I felt the weight of Nicholas’s arm on my back falter, his pace slowing, becoming uneven, as he rode out his own high and buried himself against my back. His breathing grew heavier, almost strained, and I realized it wasn’t just exertion — it was something deeper, more vulnerable.

“Nic?” I whispered, my voice shaky from the intensity of it all. I turned my head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, and what I saw made my heart clench.

He was clutching onto me, not with any roughness, but as if he was afraid I might leave him alone. A quiet, pained whimper escaped his lips as his shoulders shuddered. That’s when I felt the light sensation of a tear fall onto my back.

Nicholas was crying.

Panic flashed through me as the realization hit. I stilled beneath him, my body still trembling from the aftermath of what we’d just shared. The tie around my wrists suddenly felt too tight, too restrictive. I wriggled against it, desperate to free myself and reach him.

“Nic,” I whispered, trying to get his attention. His grip on my hips loosened slightly, and I took the chance to twist my wrists, managing to slip one hand free. The silk tie fell away as I quickly turned under him, catching his face in my hands.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw clenched tight, and silent tears streaked down his face. He was trying so hard to hold it in, to keep it together, but his body betrayed him — his shoulders trembled, and his breath hitched uncontrollably.

“Nicholas, look at me,” I urged, my voice soft but firm.

He shook his head, his hands coming up to cover his face as if he couldn’t bear to let me see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice thick and broken. “I don’t— I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop,” I interrupted gently, prying his hands away from his face. “You don’t have to apologize. Let it out; it’s ok.”

His watery eyes met mine then, the raw vulnerability in his gaze cutting straight to my soul. “It’s just…,” he whispered hoarsely. “Filming, the pressure, trying to make this perfect for you… And then… you… I just…” He trailed off, his voice breaking as another tear slipped down his cheek.

“Oh, Nic,” I murmured, my heart breaking for him. I shifted closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him against me. He resisted for a moment, but when I whispered, “I’m here. I’ve got you,” he collapsed into me, his head resting against my shoulder as the sobs he’d been trying to suppress finally broke free.

I held him tightly, my fingers running through his damp hair as he clung to me, his body trembling against mine. “Let it out,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

Nicholas buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot and uneven against my skin. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating, his voice muffled and thick with emotion.

“Shh,” I soothed, my hands moving in slow, comforting strokes over his back. “You did nothing wrong. This is what I wanted — for you to let everything go, to not hold back.”

He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, letting everything out while I held him, whispering soft reassurances and pressing gentle kisses to his temple. Slowly, his breathing began to even out, his grip on me loosening as the storm within him started to calm.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were red, his face tear-streaked, but there was a lightness to him now — a sense of release that hadn’t been there before. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice raw but sincere. “I needed all of that.”

I cupped his face in my hands, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks. “You don’t have to thank me,” I said softly. “I’m here for you, Nic. Always.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch as he let out a shaky breath. When he opened them again, there was something different in his gaze — a vulnerability, yes, but also a deep, unspoken gratitude and love that made my chest ache.

“I love you,” he said, the words weighted with everything he couldn’t put into words.

“I love you, too,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill over. 

“Come with me,” I murmured, gently guiding him to his feet. His brows furrowed in confusion, but he followed my lead as I led him toward the bathroom. The warm glow of the dimmed lights reflected off the marble, the inviting expanse of the oversized bathtub waiting for us.

The bathroom was bathed in a golden glow, the soft lights reflecting off the pristine marble tiles. I turned on the faucet, letting the hot water rush into the oversized tub as steam began to curl into the air. I added a handful of eucalyptus bath salts, their fresh, calming scent filling the room. Nicholas stood behind me, watching silently, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe

Once the tub was half-filled, I turned back to him, offering a gentle smile. “Come on, Nic,” I said softly, I reached for him.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering between the bath and me. “You’ve done enough for me tonight,” he said quietly, his voice still thick with emotion. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”

I shook my head, stepping closer to him. “You don’t have to do that. Tonight is about you letting go.”

Nicholas’s brows furrowed, and he reached out, his fingers brushing over my bare shoulder. His touch was light, almost hesitant. “(Y/N)… look at yourself.” His voice was filled with a quiet anguish as his gaze dropped to the faint red marks and bruises forming along my arms and hips. His fingers ghosted over a particularly dark mark on my thigh, and he swallowed hard.

I glanced down, suddenly aware of the evidence of our earlier intensity written across my skin. I had been too focused on him to notice, and now, seeing his reaction, my heart ached. “It’s okay,” I said gently, placing my hand over his. “I wanted that. I wanted to give you whatever you needed.”

Nicholas shook his head, his jaw tightening as guilt flickered across his face. “You shouldn’t have to carry the weight of my frustration like that,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You gave me everything tonight, and I—” His voice broke, and he closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to steady himself. When he looked at me again, his gaze was filled with determination. “Let me take care of you now. Please.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the earnestness in his eyes stopped me. He needed this — not just for me, but for himself, to reconcile the roughness he’d shown. Slowly, I nodded, stepping back toward the tub. “Okay,” I said softly. “But we’ll take care of each other.”

Nicholas’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he stepped forward, his hands steady and deliberate as he helped me into the warm water. The heat enveloped me, soothing my tired muscles as I sank into the tub. He climbed in behind me, his legs settling on either side of me.

The warmth of the water surrounded us, the eucalyptus scent filling the air as Nicholas’s strong arms wrapped around me. He pulled me close, his chest against my back, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The sound of the water gently lapping against the edges of the tub was the only noise in the room, a soothing backdrop to the weight of the moment.

Nicholas’s fingers brushed against my shoulders, tracing the faint red marks his grip had left earlier. His touch was featherlight, almost hesitant, as though he was afraid to hurt me again.

I reached up, placing my hand over his before he could even have the chance to speak, intertwining our fingers. “Nic, I wanted those marks. Every moment of it, I wanted it.” My voice was soft but firm, willing him to understand.

He didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he leaned down, pressing his lips to the top of my head in a lingering kiss. “Even so,” he whispered, his breath warm against my hair. “We had never done anything like that before.”

“I know,” I said, turning my head slightly to meet his gaze. His brown eyes were filled with a vulnerability that tugged at my heart. “But I think it was something we had to do.”

His jaw tightened, and his free hand reached for the sponge resting on the side of the tub. He dipped it into the warm water and squeezed a bit of the hotel body wash onto it, squeezing it gently before running it over my shoulders and collarbone. His touch was slow, deliberate, as though he were trying to erase the marks with every careful stroke.

The sponge glided down my arms, and Nicholas paused as his gaze settled on the faint red marks around my wrists where the tie had been. His fingers brushed over them, his brow furrowing deeply. “I tied you too tight,” he muttered, his voice laced with self-recrimination. “I should’ve checked—”

“Nic.” I turned in his arms, cupping his face with both hands. The water rippled around us as I shifted. “Listen to me,” I said firmly, holding his gaze. “You didn’t hurt me. I wanted to surrender to you, to trust you completely. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

His hands settled on my hips, his grip gentle but steady. “I just… I need to make sure you’re okay,” he said softly. “Because the thought of hurting you—”

“You didn’t,” I interrupted, leaning forward to press my forehead against his. “You gave me everything I needed, Nic. And now, I’m giving you the chance to let go of that guilt. Let it go, just like you let go earlier. We’re in this together, remember?”

His eyes closed for a moment, and I felt him exhale, his breath warm against my lips. “Together,” he repeated, his voice a quiet promise.

I leaned back slightly, giving him space to continue. His hands moved again, the sponge tracing over my chest and down my sides with a care that made my heart ache. For the rest of the bath, Nicholas’s touch remained gentle and reverent, his movements slow as he cared for me with an intensity that spoke louder than any words could.

As he continued, my gaze turned toward the open door of the bathroom. I looked at Bateman’s tie that had been left abandoned on the bed, strewn like it was nothing. In my head, I thanked it for the purpose it served.

Patrick Bateman was someone that had been looming over our relationship since Nicholas had taken the role. At times, the energy worked in our favor when Nicholas felt emboldened and riskier whenever we had sex, which were beautiful memories. Other times, though, he was this pestering dark cloud that followed Nicholas around, not letting him fully out of his grasp, even when he was at home.

Tonight, though, we used something of his — his iconic red tie — to channel all of that energy into something cathartic, something I thought could help free us from his clutches. So, believe me when I say that I thought that would be the last I saw of Bateman. Imagine my surprise when the press tour for American Psycho began and he was all I saw.

This time around, though, Bateman’s energy didn’t cling to Nicholas — not at all. After our anniversary, Nicholas was as lively as ever, back to his old self before he had ever decided to take on the role, and if any traits of Bateman’s lingered in him, it was his love of control, which Nicholas channeled in a tender and, most importantly, consensual manner. He was no longer ashamed of having been consumed by the character; he was open and honest about it. He shed him completely.

No, Bateman had somehow managed to cling onto me. Not in the way it had clung to Nicholas, but I just couldn’t escape him anywhere we went. I had hoped that after Nicholas had finished filming that our lives would slow down a little bit and give me a chance to breathe and readjust, hoping maybe then I could feel a little less stressed about moving to the city, but it only seemed to ramp up as the months passed.

That’s when all the invitations started to roll in. Interviews, parties, early screenings, events — they were piling on and on. And Nicholas was just so enthusiastic about attending them all, asking if I wanted to accompany him. I said yes every time, of course. How could I not? His excitement was contagious, his joy palpable after months of emotional turmoil.

And I couldn’t deny the excitement of accompanying him to an industry event. It was something I was afraid of throwing myself into way back when I visited him in Los Angeles, but now I had the emotional maturity of not caring what others thought of me. I was floating through these parties without a care in the world, excited to be sharing such joyous occasions with Nicholas. 

Slowly, but surely, I started to miss more and more days of my remote job. I told myself I’d be able to catch up, and at first, I was. I would meet all my deadlines and I wouldn’t miss a meeting for anything in the world. However, the more events Nicholas was invited to, the more planes we had to take, and the less time I found to be able to catch up on work.

The look in Nicholas’s eyes whenever I’d agree to go with him, his excitement when he talked about the events, or the way his face lit up when he introduced me as his partner — it was worth everything. There were nights where I would stay up late into the early morning losing sleep trying to meet deadlines just so I wouldn’t have to tell him no.

As much as I didn’t like the fact that my job had me tethered to a laptop inside our apartment in a bustling city like New York, it was also a tether to my independence. Losing sleep was one thing; losing that tether was another entirely. 

So, I tried to juggle both as best I could, even when we moved back to his apartment in Los Angeles, but eventually, my performance at work started to suffer. I would miss deadlines — not by much, but I had never missed one before. There would be rookie mistakes on documents, ones that were so small but I still couldn’t believe I had missed, especially when I had been working for a few years now. It had gotten to the point where my absolutely understanding boss had emailed to check up on me. He was such a sweetheart about everything, even giving me a few days off so I could decompress and come back swinging. Though, that didn’t work much; my performance never really bounced back.

Nicholas caught me at a particularly vulnerable time for him to ask a monumental question. It was one of those rare mornings when the sunlight filtered through the windows just right, casting a warm glow over our bedroom. Nicholas sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, scrolling through his phone with a faint smile tugging at his lips. I was sprawled on the bed, still in my pajamas, half-heartedly sipping my tea while trying not to think about the email draft I had written the night before.

“Hey, babe,” Nicholas said suddenly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the room. I glanced over, raising an eyebrow. He looked up from his phone, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “I have something to ask you.”

I set my mug down on the nightstand, already wary of the energy radiating off him. “Okay,” I said slowly, sitting up straighter. “What’s up?”

He leaned forward, placing his phone down and clasping his hands together like he was about to pitch me the idea of a lifetime. “So, you know how the global press tour for American Psycho starts next month, right?”

I nodded, already feeling the nerves creep into my stomach. He’d mentioned it before in passing, but I hadn’t really thought much about it. It was the last thing on my mind.

“Well,” he continued, his voice softening, “I was talking to my team yesterday, and if you’re up for it…” he grinned, “I want you to be my plus one.”

My stomach dropped. “You want me to go with you?” I asked, my voice more breathless than I intended.

He nodded eagerly, reaching out to take my hand. “Yes. I mean, I’d get to show you so many incredible places — London, Paris, Tokyo, Sydney, Mexico, then back to New York for the American premiere. I can show you what the world has in store for you.”

It warmed my heart to have him remember the sentiment that had pushed me to follow him to New York in the first place. The thought of traveling the world with Nicholas, sharing in his success, was undeniably tempting. But the reality of what it would mean hit me like a freight train. If I said yes, I’d have to fully commit — no half-hearted attempts to juggle work and this tour. I’d have to quit my job, officially severing the last thread of independence I had. And unfortunately, Nicholas caught me at just the right moment.

I shifted closer to him, planting a kiss on his lips and hoping my smile didn’t come off as tired. “I’d love to go with you,” I whispered.

He grew giddy, embracing me in a tight hug before pulling away and kissing me again. He grabbed his phone and stood up from the bed, already tapping away, “I’ll let my team know.” He left the room with his phone up to his ear, smiling widely.

As soon as he was out of the room, I grabbed my own phone, opening the Mail app and tapping over to the email I had drafted the night before. It stared back at me, almost daring me.

Subject: Two Weeks Notice

Dear Mr. Lee,

I am writing to formally resign from my position, effective in two weeks from the day this email is sent.

This decision wasn’t easy, but I believe it’s the right step for my personal growth. I’m grateful for the opportunities you have given me during my time working, and I truly value the experiences and knowledge I’ve gained.

Thank you again for everything, and I wish you and your company continued success.

Best regards,

(Y/N) (Y/L/N)

The words “right step” mocked me. I’m not sure I believed my own words, but I had to make a decision and I wanted to be there for Nicholas. So… I hit send.

As soon as I did, I felt a strange mix of emotions wash over me — relief, fear, and an unsettling sense of finality. The email disappeared into the ether, and for a moment, I just sat there, staring at my phone. The “sent” notification blinked back at me, a confirmation that there was no turning back now.

I set the phone down and leaned back against the headboard, taking a deep breath. My heart pounded in my chest, and I pressed a hand to it, as though I could somehow calm the storm brewing inside me. This was it. I had made my choice. There would be no more juggling deadlines on planes or late-night cram sessions after events.

Nicholas reappeared in the doorway, his grin still firmly in place. “They’re thrilled,” he announced, stepping back into the room. He dropped his phone on the nightstand and crawled back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. “You have no idea how happy this makes me. I get to share everything with you.”

I tried to match his enthusiasm, forcing a smile as I hugged him back. “I’m happy too,” I murmured, and in some ways, I was. But the unease lingered, coiling in the back of my mind.

He pulled back slightly to look at me, his hands cradling my face. “You won’t regret this,” he said earnestly, his eyes searching mine.

I wanted to believe that this was the right decision, that this sacrifice would be worth it in the end. But as Nicholas held me close, excitement radiating off him in waves, I couldn’t help but feel the faintest flicker of doubt. However, that feeling was quickly pushed aside with excitement as we touched down at all the different cities.

The following weeks blurred into a whirlwind of airports, hotel rooms, and bustling cities. The excitement of the tour swept me up, and for a while, it was easy to ignore the lingering doubt that had settled in the back of my mind. Nicholas was in his element, thriving in the spotlight as he charmed his way through interviews and red carpets. Watching him come alive like this, seeing the passion he had for his work, made me forget everything else.

Our first stop was London. The city was a blur of cobblestone streets, red carpets, and late-night drinks at posh hotel bars. The press schedule was packed, with interviews at iconic landmarks like the London Eye and Tower Bridge. I watched Nicholas charm every journalist he met, his smile as bright as the city’s twinkling lights. He was in his element here — confident, captivating, and utterly magnetic.

One night, we snuck away from the glamour, hand in hand, to a quiet pub on the outskirts of town. Over pints of ale and baskets of chips, he leaned across the table, his eyes soft as he murmured, “This is the best part of it all — just being with you.”

My favorite stop was Paris. The city was as magical as I’d imagined, with its cobblestone streets and golden sunsets over the Seine. Nicholas made a point to steal moments away from the tour schedule to show me the city. We spent an afternoon at the Louvre, getting lost in the endless halls of art, and one evening, he surprised me with a private dinner on a boat that floated along the river, the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the background. I couldn’t take my eyes off the hunk of metal at all.

“Can you believe we’re here?” he whispered that night, his fingers laced with mine as the boat glided across the water.

I smiled, leaning my head against his shoulder. “It feels like a dream.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re the only thing that makes this real for me.”

The sweetness of his words carried me through Tokyo, where the neon lights of Shibuya Crossing cast a kaleidoscope of colors over our late-night ramen adventures. It was there that I saw a side of Nicholas I hadn’t seen ever — carefree, almost childlike in his wonder as he marveled at the vending machines and arcades. He pulled me into a photo booth one night, laughing as we struggled to time our poses with the flashing lights. The photo strip, with our silly faces and unfiltered joy, became a cherished souvenir.

By the time we reached Sydney, I had almost convinced myself that I had made the right choice. The harbor sparkled under the summer sun, and Nicholas’s excitement was infectious as we climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge together. He insisted on holding my hand the entire way up, even when I teased him about how sweaty our palms were getting.

“You’re stuck with me,” he said, grinning as we reached the top. “Sweaty palms and all.”

I laughed, leaning into him as the wind whipped around us. “Good thing I don’t mind.”

Things didn’t come to a head until we reached Mexico, the last stop before the American movie premiere in New York.

The vibrant energy of Mexico City enveloped us as soon as we arrived. The streets buzzed with life, the colors were extra vibrant, and the air filled with the tantalizing scent of street food. Nicholas was in awe, snapping pictures on his phone, pulling me along with an excitement I couldn’t help but mirror at first. But as the day wore on, I found myself retreating inward, the hum of the city blending into a distant background noise.

We strolled through Chapultepec Park, its lush greenery offering a serene escape from the bustling streets. Nicholas chatted animatedly about everything, from the architecture to the way the city pulsed with history and culture. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I smiled when he paused to admire a local artist’s work, but my smiles felt faint, like they didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“You okay?” Nicholas asked at one point, his voice laced with concern. He had stopped to buy us horchata from a street vendor, handing me a cup as he studied me.

I hesitated, sipping the sweet drink and avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, just tired,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt.

His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t press. “Alright,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Just a few more hours until I have to do my interview, and then we can go to the hotel, okay?”

I nodded, forcing another smile, “Okay.”

Nicholas’s hand slipped into mine, his grip gentle but reassuring, and he led me toward the Museo Nacional de Antropología. The exhibits were stunning, the artifacts rich with history and culture, but my mind felt foggy, unable to fully engage. I found myself trailing behind Nicholas, nodding when he pointed out something he found fascinating, but my responses were automatic, disconnected.

For our last stop, we arrived at some studio for his interview, Nicholas was whisked off by a flurry of assistants and makeup artists. I found myself standing in the corner of the room, out of the way but still close enough to see him. He looked relaxed, poised, and entirely in his element as he laughed and chatted with the crew.

I watched him through the chaos, feeling both proud and slightly detached. This was his moment — the culmination of months of hard work. But as I stood there, arms crossed over my chest, I couldn’t shake the nagging thought that while he was flourishing, I felt like I was wilting.

The interview began, the host effusive in their praise for the movie and Nicholas’s performance. They asked him questions about his process, the challenges of stepping into Patrick Bateman’s shoes, and what he hoped audiences would take away from the film. Nicholas answered each question with the kind of eloquence and charm that made me fall for him in the first place. His passion was undeniable, his smile magnetic.

But then it happened. Toward the end of the interview, the host reached under their desk and pulled out a promotional poster of Patrick Bateman. It was a close-up of Nicholas as Bateman, his expression cold and unyielding, blood splattered across his face. The room buzzed with admiration as the host praised the poster’s “brilliant intensity.”

For me, though, it was like a punch to the gut. I couldn’t escape him. He followed us from city to city, always there. Billboards, promotional posters glued to fences, on the sides of city buses, even when I tried to take a break and scroll through social media on my phone, there he always was. Every promotional photo of him I’d see, he would smile back at me as if he knew he had won, and he became this reminder of what I had sacrificed — myself. Seeing it then, when I felt at my lowest, with everyone smiling and clapping, made something inside me snap.

By the time we returned to the hotel that evening, I felt like a shell of myself. The day had been beautiful, filled with moments that should’ve felt magical, but instead, I felt like I was watching it all from a distance, unable to fully participate. Nicholas held my hand as we stepped into the elevator, his thumb brushing over my knuckles absentmindedly. I could feel his gaze flicking toward me, searching for something I wasn’t ready to give.

When we reached our room, I barely made it through the door before the tears started to fall. I tried to stifle them, turning my back to Nicholas as I set my bag down on the chair and made my way to the bedroom. But the weight of everything — the months of running on empty, the sacrifices I’d made without fully realizing their cost, the suffocating presence of Patrick Bateman in every city, every billboard — it all came crashing down.

Nicholas was quietly going on about what we could do few our last few days in Mexico. I could hear his voice carrying on in the other room, his enthusiasm unwavering, but all I wanted was silence. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands trembling as I tried to catch my breath, the weight of everything pressing down on me. By the time Nicholas joined me, I was curled up, tears silently streaming down my face. I really didn’t mean for him to see me this way, but I just couldn’t keep it in anymore.

He froze in the doorway, his smile faltering as he took in my crumpled form. “(Y/N),” he said softly, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I shook my head, unable to find the words to explain the storm inside me. He crouched down beside me, his hands gently cupping my face as he wiped away my tears with his thumbs. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice full of concern. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“I… I can’t do this anymore, Nic,” I finally choked out, my voice breaking. “I thought I could handle it, but I can’t. It’s too much. I feel like I’ve lost myself completely.”

His brows furrowed, his grip on my face tightening slightly as if to anchor me. “What do you mean?”

“I gave up everything to be here with you,” I said, my words tumbling out in a rush. “My job, my independence, my sense of who I am. I wanted to support you, but I feel like I’ve disappeared in the process. And it’s not your fault — it’s mine. I’m the one that let this happen.”

Nicholas’s face crumpled, guilt washing over his features. “No, it’s not your fault. I should’ve seen how much this was weighing on you. I should’ve—”

“Stop,” I interrupted, my voice shaky. “This isn’t about blame. I just… I need a break from everything. From the tour, from all of this.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and I could see the panic rising in Nicholas’s eyes. “A break?” he echoed, his voice tinged with desperation. “What kind of break?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my hands twisting in my lap. “I just know I can’t keep going, not like this.”

As his eyes desperately flicked between both of mine, a flicker of an idea sparked in his eyes. “Wait here,” he said, his voice steady but determined. 

I sat up, my feet dangling off the foot of the bed as I watched him stand on his feet and walk over to his suitcase. He rummaged through the piles of clothing , pulling something out from under. I didn’t know what it was, but it was something that made his body tense. He turned around then, slowly walking back over and kneeling down in front of me.

Carefully, he held out that damned red tie in front of me. “You gave me this when I was breaking down. You let me let go of everything.”

I stared at the tie, my breath hitching as I realized what he was asking. “Nic—”

“Please,” he interrupted, his voice cracking with urgency. He knelt closer, holding the tie out like it was some kind of salvation. “You let me fall apart when I needed it most. You didn’t judge me, and you helped me through it. Now… now I want to do the same for you. Use this. Use me. Whatever you’re holding onto, whatever you’re feeling — anger, frustration, resentment — let it out. Tie me up, hit me, scream, I don’t care. Just… don’t hold it in anymore.”

I stared at him, the tie trembling slightly in his hands. My chest tightened, and I shook my head, trying to form words through the lump in my throat. “Nic, this isn’t the same.”

His shoulders dropped slightly, but his hands remained steady, holding the tie out to me like a lifeline. “You don’t know that,” he said softly, his voice laced with desperation. “You’ve carried so much for me, for us. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Let me take it.”

Against my better judgment, I took the tie from his hands, my fingers trembling as I ran them over the familiar silk. It felt heavier than it should, like it carried all the unspoken words and emotions between us. I clutched it tightly, my knuckles white, as I looked down at him. He was kneeling there, his wrists offered to me, his gaze unwavering despite the vulnerability etched into his features.

“Do whatever you need to do,” he said softly, his brown eyes full of vulnerability.

I waved away his wrists, my hands trembling as I brought the tie up to his head, tying it around his eyes. Nicholas’s breath hitched as I slipped the tie around his head, his body tensing beneath my touch. I could see his chest rise and fall with every heavy breath as he clasped his hands behind his back. Even blindfolded, he exuded trust, surrendering himself entirely to me in a way that both broke my heart and made it swell.

He whispered softly, “I trust you.”

Those words pushed a lump into my throat, and I struggled to keep my composure. I knelt down in front of him, carefully placing my hands on his chest to feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my palms. My fingers curled into fists, and I gave him a soft thump against his chest.

It wasn’t anything at all, but it made his head tilt slightly, his lips parting as if he could hear the weight behind the gesture. “Good. Do it again,” he murmured.

I bit my lip, the frustration and confusion swirling inside me like a storm. I struck his chest again, a little harder this time, but it still felt wrong. “Nic,” I said, my voice shaky, “I don’t think I can…”

I wanted to be angry, to release all the frustration I had bottled up for months, but the truth was, it wasn’t anger I felt anymore. It was sadness. Exhaustion. A bone-deep ache that no amount of hitting or yelling could cure.

“Yes, you can,” he urged, his voice gentle yet firm. “Whatever you’re feeling, let it out. Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

He could take it, but could I?

I tried again, my hands pressing into his chest with a tremor of force, but then my arms fell limp. The tears came hard and fast, spilling over as I crumpled forward, burying my face into Nicholas’s chest, sobbing fully into his chest.

“I can’t,” I choked out between sobs. “I can’t do this, Nic.”

In an instant, I felt his arms wrap around me, holding me tightly as I cried against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I just — I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to lose you.”

I cried harder then, and I could feel him start to cry, too.

We stayed like that, crumpled together on the floor, our emotions spilling over, mixing and melding into one shared, raw moment. Nicholas’s arms wrapped around me tighter, as if he feared that letting go would mean losing me entirely. His tears soaked into my shoulder, his breaths ragged against my neck. He was holding me together even as he fell apart himself.

“Tell me what you need,” he choked through his cries, “I’ll do anything, please.”

My hands clutched his bare chest, holding onto him as though he was the only thing anchoring me to reality. “I want to go home,” I cried.

The words felt heavy, like an admission of defeat, but it felt like a weight that I had been carrying for the past 6 months had finally lifted.

I didn’t end up going home. At least, not to my parents’ house. I thought about it, but the idea of retreating to my childhood bedroom felt wrong. It wasn’t the place to sort through my feelings, and I didn’t want my mom to have the satisfaction of being right. Instead, I ended up going to a place near and dear to my heart — the island. It was exactly as I remembered it, and the perfect place for me to shut myself away from the world.

Every day, the waves greeted me like an old friend, their steady crashes lulling me into a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in months. I walked the beach for hours, dragging my feet through the warm sand, letting the tide pull me closer and further away, as if it understood the push and pull I felt within myself. Here, time didn’t matter. The sun rose and set, the tide ebbed and flowed, and I let myself simply be. It was exactly what I needed.

Returning to this beach — this island — where my journey with Nicholas had begun, felt bittersweet. I thought about the person I’d been back then — wide-eyed, hesitant, yet eager to explore the unknown. And now, here I was, trying to find my footing again.

I sat on the sand overlooking the shoreline, hugging my knees to my chest, letting the salty breeze wash over me. The sound of the waves was the only thing grounding me in that moment, pulling me away from the whirlwind of memories threatening to overwhelm me.

I thought about Nicholas, the way his eyes had filled with desperation and pain when I told him I needed to leave. I thought about his touch, the way he always tried to anchor me when I felt like I was drifting. And I thought about his smile, the one that could light up an entire room and make me believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

I hadn’t talked to him since I left him alone at the hotel in Mexico seven days ago. There were moments I thought about calling him, just to hear his voice, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He needed to focus on the press junkets, and I needed to focus on myself. Still, every night as I lay in the crisp white sheets of my hotel bed, I wondered if he was thinking about me too.

It was the day of the American Psycho movie premiere, and while Nicholas was getting his suit steamed and getting his hair brushed back, I was here at The End of The Road staring out into the horizon. I made sure to send him a message, short and simple: Good luck tonight. I’m so proud of you <3. I didn’t expect a response, but it didn’t matter. I just wanted him to know that, no matter what, I was proud of him. He had come so far in so little time, how could I not be proud of him?

But why couldn’t I feel that same pride for myself? I had come so far, too. I met my first real love, I stood up to my mom, I moved out of the house and across the country, I saw the world… I had done so much, but somewhere along the way, pieces of me had been chipped away.

I used to think finding myself would be this grand, transformative moment, like flipping a switch and suddenly knowing exactly who I was and what I wanted. But now, sitting here with the sand sticking to my legs and the breeze tugging at my sweater, I realized that maybe finding myself was less about grand revelations and more about rediscovering those little pieces I’d lost along the way.

Back then, before Nicholas, I’d had a rhythm to my life. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. I had a job that, while not exactly fulfilling, gave me independence. I had hobbies, passions. I loved Nicholas with all my heart — that was never the question. But somewhere between following him to New York, quitting my job, and boarding planes to cities I’d only dreamed of visiting, I’d let my identity become tied to his.

It wasn’t his fault, not really. He never asked me to give up those parts of myself. If anything, he encouraged me to hold onto them, to keep my sense of self intact. But I had let my eagerness to support him, to be the perfect partner, overtake everything else. I had wanted so badly to prove I could handle his world, that I could fit into it without losing myself, that I hadn’t noticed the slow erosion of my boundaries until there was almost nothing left.

As I stared at the waves, I thought about what I wanted now. Not just in this moment, but for my future. I wanted to feel like me again. I wanted to wake up in the morning and feel proud of the choices I was making, the life I was building.

But how?

I couldn’t go back to the person I was before Nicholas — I didn’t want to. That version of me hadn’t experienced the highs and lows of our relationship, hadn’t grown through the challenges we’d faced together. But I could start piecing together a new version of myself, one that combined the person I used to be with the person I was becoming.

Maybe that meant finding a new job — one that still felt meaningful. Maybe it meant setting boundaries, learning to say no to events or trips that drained me, even if it disappointed Nicholas. Maybe it meant carving out time and space for my own passions, whether that was painting or even writing a book just because I could.

It also meant having a real conversation with Nicholas. He had been so open with me in Mexico, so willing to take responsibility for his part in our imbalance. But it wasn’t just on him. I needed to own up to the ways I had let myself slip away, the times I had said yes when I should have said no, the ways I had failed to advocate for what I needed.

And even though all these thoughts and solutions were racing around in my head, I realized I didn’t need to have all the answers at that moment. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was giving myself permission to not have everything figured out. To just exist, to just… breathe.

By then, the sun had already set and stars slowly started to populate the inky sky. Having reflected enough for the day, I walked over to my car and drove back to the hotel.

The drive back was quiet, the hum of the tires on the road almost meditative. The stars above twinkled faintly through the windshield, a reminder that even the vastness of the sky could hold light in its darkest corners. The heaviness in my chest was still there, but it felt a little less suffocating after my time by the ocean. I didn’t have all the answers, but at least I felt a sense of clarity — a place to start.

When I pushed open the door to my room, 5 — trust me, the irony wasn’t lost on me — the soft glow of the bedside lamp greeted me. The room was untouched, everything exactly as I’d left it. My sandals hit the floor with a quiet thud as I walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge and letting out a quiet yawn.

I sat there, the room feeling cavernous despite its cozy size. The faint hum of the air conditioning filled the silence, but my mind was anything but quiet. Then, suddenly, a knock sounded through the door.

It wasn’t tentative or demanding, just a steady knock, but I thought I had just imagined until again, a knock came through. My breath hitched, my pulse quickening as I stood and crossed the room. My hand paused on the handle, hesitating for a moment before I pulled it open.

It was Nicholas.

“Nic,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I stumbled back. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

He stood there, still dressed in his premiere outfit. His tuxedo jacket was perfectly tailored, but the bow tie around his neck was slightly undone, hanging loose against the crisp blue shirt. His eyes, however, were what caught me. They were filled with a quiet intensity, a mix of exhaustion, worry, and something softer — understanding. His chest was rising and falling, like he had just run up the stairs coming up here.

“W-what are you doing here?” I questioned. “Why aren’t you at the movie premiere?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind him. The soft click echoed in the room, and suddenly the air felt heavier. He stood there, only a few feet away, his gaze fixed on mine.

He swallowed his breath, slowly making his way across the room, “I walked the carpet, I posed for the cameras… but none of it mattered.” He spun around, his eyes intense, “None of it mattered because I couldn’t take another day being away from you.”

I blinked, my throat tightening. “Nicholas,” I said softly, my voice cracking under the weight of his words. “You shouldn’t have left — this is your moment. The premiere, your hard work—”

“It doesn’t mean a damn thing without you,” he interrupted, his voice low but steady. He stood just a few feet away now, his hands clenched at his sides, as though holding himself back from closing the distance completely. “I didn’t come here to argue or try to convince you to come back. I came because… I wanted you to know that I understand.”

I froze, his words hitting me harder than I expected. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his expression softening as he continued.

“You’ve been carrying so much, (Y/N). Not just your struggles, but mine too. All of it. I let you carry the weight of my world while you were still trying to figure out your own. And I didn’t see it — not the way I should have.” He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I see it now.”

My chest tightened, tears threatening to spill over again. “Nic, it’s not your fault. I—”

“No,” he cut in gently, his voice firm but filled with tenderness. “Let me say this.” He took another step forward, his gaze locked on mine. “You gave up so much for me. Your job, your independence, your time. You supported me through every milestone, every success these last six months, and I got so caught up in all of it that I didn’t stop to ask if you were okay. And the fact that I wasn’t there for you the way you were for me all of those restless nights… it breaks my heart, because that’s not what I had promised you.”

Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them back. “I chose this, Nic. I wanted to be there for you.”

“And I love you for that,” he said, his voice softening. “But I should’ve made sure you were taking care of yourself too.”

His words broke something inside me, and I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled over, hot and heavy, as I pressed a hand to my mouth. Nicholas stepped closer, finally closing the gap between us. He cupped my face gently, his thumbs wiping away the tears that refused to stop.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to give up who you are to be with me,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I love you for you — for everything that makes you who you are. And I want to build a balance together, one where neither of us has to sacrifice our identity for the other. You shouldn’t have to disappear for me to shine, and I’m so sorry for letting that happen.”

A sob escaped me, and I leaned into him, my arms wrapping around his waist. He held me close, as though he was trying to fuse us together. I felt his warmth. It felt like home.

His fingers gently stroked my hair, and I let out a shaky breath, leaning into him as if he was the only thing tethering me to the moment. Nicholas stepped back slightly, his hands settling on my shoulders as he studied my face, his own expression pained but resolute.

“There’s something I need to do,” he said softly, his voice steady even as his hands trembled.

I looked at him, confused, as he reached into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. For a moment, I thought he was about to pull out some very grand gesture that would’ve been way too early of a step in our relationship, but instead, he held out something that made my breath catch in my throat.

The red tie.

Patrick Bateman’s tie.

The sight of it sent a wave of emotion crashing over me. It was as though everything I’d been holding back, every silent frustration, every unspoken word, was encapsulated in that piece of fabric. My chest tightened, but before I could say anything, Nicholas spoke.

“This,” he said, holding the tie between his fingers like it was something poisonous, “has been a symbol of everything I let take over my life. Everything I let hurt us.” His voice wavered, but his gaze was firm as he looked at me. “I thought us keeping it would be a reminder of what we’d overcome, but it’s only become a weight. On me, on us.”

I watched, frozen, as he walked toward the window, his movements deliberate. He unlocked the latch and pushed the window open, letting the cool sea breeze fill the room.

Nicholas held the tie out over the edge, his fingers gripping it tightly as he looked back at me. “We don’t need this anymore. Not in my pocket, not in our life.”

Before I could respond, he let it go. The tie fluttered in the breeze, a streak of crimson against the night sky, before disappearing into the distance. My heart felt like it stopped for a moment as I watched it vanish, and then, like the rush of air after holding your breath too long, I felt something inside me loosen.

Nicholas turned back to me, his face soft but serious. “I can’t erase what this role has done, what it’s taken from us. But I can promise you that moving forward, we rebuild together. On our terms, and neither of our work is going to disrupt that.”

Tears streamed down my face, but for the first time in what felt like weeks, they weren’t tears of exhaustion or frustration. They were tears of release, of relief. I crossed the room to him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he held me close.

“I love you,” I whispered against his shoulder, my voice trembling but sure. “So much.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his forehead pressing gently against mine. “I love you, too. And I’m not letting us slip away, ever, ever again.”

The weight I’d been carrying — the exhaustion, the compromises, the slow erosion of my sense of self — seemed to ease, replaced by the warmth of his arms around me. Nicholas held me tightly, like he was anchoring us both to something real, something steady. 

The red tie, Bateman, all the chaos of the past year — it was gone now, fluttering somewhere out there in the night, where it belonged. What remained was just us: the boy I met on the beach, the man who made me laugh even when I didn’t want to, the one who followed me across the country because he refused to let me go.

I pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. There was no trace of Bateman in his eyes now, only Nicholas — kind, unguarded, a little broken but still standing. And me? I wasn’t fixed, not yet. There were still pieces of myself I needed to find again, pieces I wanted to rebuild on my own. But for the first time, I felt like I could tell him that without fear because through all the noise and the shadows, we’d made it here, to this quiet, honest moment. It was ours. Not his, not mine — ours.

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing Homicipher Characters to Your Plushies - Pt. 3 !

The Homicipher Characters come to you in hopes for whatever insanity they plan to drag you into, you instead have a different plan! Showing them your plushies!

Notes: Gender Neutral Reader! This Part includes: Ms. Bride, Ms. Nurse, Ms. Blue-Clad, Hairdresser, & Adami ! Girls Round 🫶

Previous Parts: One & Two

Ms. Bride

So cute !!!!!! Oh my gosh !!!! She loves your plushies so much !!!

She immediately wants to put them in cute little outfits! Please let her do so she'll love you even more than she does now!

You both have so much fun with your plushies, she loves them as equally as you do.

She memorizes all the names and any lore you may have and also their importance to you.

If you so desire she'd love to see up little tea parties or something with them. It'd be a lot of fun! You could put together your own wedding with them as the guests as well!!!

She did not know how much she adored plushies until she met you and she's so happy that she did. Please get her some plushies of her own. She'll got absolutely insane dressing them up and will never let them go.

Ms. Nurse

She loves you and your plushies a lot !!! You're so adorable when you talk about them and she loves when you do !!

As a nurse she completely understands how plushies and other small gifts can help comfort a person. So she knows just how important they are to you and will never judge you for that ever.

If she ever sees you remotely upset she will bring over the plushies she knows that brings you the most comfort and place them on you.

She finds some comfort in the plushies as well, and she would be over the moon if you got matching ones for you and her.

I'm not sure how much she knows how to sew, but if she sees a hole or anything on one she'll wrap it up in bandages to make sure the stuffing doesn't fall out!

It's hurt after all! She's gotta take care of it and help it and you feel better in any way that she is capable of.

Overall, she's a huge lover of plushies, and loves that you love them too! 10000% memorized all their names after that day you told her about them.

Ms. Blue-Clad

She seems like the type to like plushies a lot. Though I think she prefers when they're smaller plushies rather than the bigger ones.

She'll listen to you talk about them but I'm not sure how much she's actually memorizing about them. If anything she's just looking at the different colors and creatures they are.

Any blue plushies you have she immediately adores. Those are her favorites.

Bonus points if you get her one later on.

That being said! She thinks you're adorable when you're talking about them!!!

She wants to smother you in kisses so badly!!! And she probably will.

Honestly so long as you are happy and smiling, I think she is as well.

Hairdresser

... Do any of them need haircuts?

If you say no she'll totally understand. But if you allow her to give one or two a haircut she'll still make sure they look super cute!!

I don't think she had deep thoughts on the plushies, but she will listen to you talk about them. Especially if you let her do your hair while you talk.

Might occasionally bring you one or two she comes across while looking for her scissors if she loses them.

I don't know if she'll memorize all their names but she definitely remembers the ones you talk about the most.

Decorate her little salon with plushies!

She will allow it only because it's you. Plus, she does really like the fact it adds some character.

Adami Adashino

Staring blankly. This girl walked into her partner's house covered in blood said partner just starts rambling on about plushies.

Honestly, she can't deny she's endeared.

10000% the type to get cuteness aggression.

Can and will start squeezing and pinching your cheeks and such. But she can't help it!!! Look at how adorable you are!!

She will learn their names for you but she doesn't always remember them very well.

But like. You still think she's cuter than your plushies right? Right?

If you don't say yes prepare for her to be jealous. Good luck!

[dulaglutide]

Hello! Can I request some scenarios with yandere! Uppermoons (+ Hantengu’s clones)(separate) where reader who’s well behaved and asks them if she can take a walk by herself outside? The demons think she’s planning an escape so they secretly stalk her only to she her just gathering flowers to decorate the hideout/infinity castle with. (Maybe she notices them and just says; “Pretty aren’t they?” Idk-) I apologize if this is too many characters!

Yandere! Uppermoons x behaved fem reader!

(I did all of the uppermoons except for Daki, Gyutaro, and Gyokko because I don’t know how to write them) (Sorry if some of them don’t sound that yandere like) Warnings: swearing, sexual themes (Karaku), one mention of a cult (Douma), one mention of the words “good girl” (Karaku)

Kokushibo

He will not like this idea one bit

Since your so well behaved though he will let you go outside just to see if he can still trust you

When you go a little far he will watch you from afar seeing if you try to run

But when he sees you playing in and looking at flowers he is in shock

Why don’t you try to run? Maybe you do really love him? What if it’s a trick?

All of those possibilities were going through his head

But when you saw him and waved with the biggest smile on your face he just melted on the inside

He really chose the right person

Douma

He will say yes to see if you end up playing a game of cat and mouse

He loves chasing you then punishing you after

But he hasn’t needed to punish you in so long due to your well behavior

He wants to see if it was a trick the whole time so he takes you outside holding your hand and tells you not to go far

Well……you went a little far but you made sure you could get back and he could find you

He would be following you the whole time waiting until he can catch you and scare you

But when he hears you giggling at a rabbit you found he’s in awe

When you went back the way you came and back to the cult house he was so proud

Now you get to go outside more sue to how loyal you proved you are

Now you can escape much easier

Akaza

In that moment he almost snapped at you saying no once you asked but he stopped himself

This would be a good time to test your loyalty

Wouldn’t it?

He let you go outside and saw how happy you were to be in the out doors finally after so many years

He really didn’t want you to be alone due to the fact you might run and he didn’t want to deal with that today

But he left you alone

He was really watching you from a tree but what’s the difference

Once you started making a flower crown he was surprised and proud at the same time

You knew he was in the tree so you looked at him in the eyes, smiled, and said “thank you”

He knew he could trust you more now

Get out of there

Sekido

He will look at you like you have lost your fucking mind

But he ends up letting you go outside because he felt like it

You were well behaved and listened to everything he said so he had a little bit of hope that you wouldn’t run away because he doesn’t wanna deal with that shit

He will follow you and if you start to run away you will get electrocuted and back to square one when you were first kidnapped

When you stop walking and sit by a tree and just look up at the stars he’s surprised but thankful omg he isn’t angry for once

You ended up falling asleep on the tree so he picked you up and carried you back home

You just earned more of his trust

Karaku

He won’t be surprised that you wanted to go outside

Since you have been a good girl he will allow you to go outside and have fun

He warned you that if you ran off to far that there would be punishments

He followed you of course but you didn’t know he was there

You were playing in a flower field just dancing with the smile he loved so much

He was thinking about how much he wanted to fuck you those flowers loves you

Hearing your happy voice made him happy so now it is a daily routine for him to let you go outside (at night of course we can’t have you running away now)

He fucked you in the flowers because he couldn’t resist

Aizetsu

He would be very scared to let you go outside

But you have been very sweet and kind to him for a while now after your kidnapping

He let you go in the backyard of the little house in the woods and watched you from the window

You were sitting there staring at the stars kicking you feet back and forth

You knew he was watching you from the window so you waved your hand for him to come outside

He was slightly happy that you were asking him to do such a thing

He was so happy with how obedient you have become

Urogi (I am obsessed with his voice)

Urogi already takes you outside to fly with him

He will always hold you close so you can’t move much

But one night you wanted to go alone….

Urogi didn’t like that much

He thought you were going to try to leave him

He allowed you to only because of how good you have been lately

He followed you though making sure you pulled no tricks

He was very upset and mad that you wanted to go alone

He became more possessive because of that

[lino-lov3]

this moment | Bang Chan

𖦹 genre : fluff, angst, boyfriend au, idol au

𖦹 warnings : none

𖦹 a/n : this is just a repost from my main blog @lino-jagiyaa !! I'm trying to seperate my fluff from my smut fics lol

𖦹 summary : chan has always been the type of person to never want anything special or any big gifts for his birthday. just the small gifts and to spend time with those he loves. this year though, he gets to spend it with you.

𖦹 word count : 540

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chan being his usual chan self, kept insisting to you and his members that he didn’t want anything special planned for his birthday this year. when asked what kind of gift he wanted, he just hit everyone with a simple “uh.. i dunno” every time.

when you think about it, this is a good thing but also a bad thing. since this was your first year being with him on his birthday you wanted to plan something special for him. or at least get him a gift. picking out a gift for him seemed impossible.

 perfume? jewelry? clothes? room decor? you just couldn’t figure it out. it’s not that you didn’t know what he’d like, it’s just he never expressed wanting anything specific. 

still you wanted to treat him on his special day. the two of you were cuddling on the couch when you say “babe?” 

“hmm?” he replied, nuzzled in your neck.

 “what do you want for your birthday?” 

“nothing” he hums. sitting up, 

you reply “you sure? nothing at all? i still want to get you something.” 

“mhm. i just want your company. spending time with you all day is all i need” smiling as he speaks. you feel your cheeks flush at his confession. 

“i.. alright channie. whatever you want.” giggling, you both sit up and he engulfs you with a hug and it makes you feel as though you can feel his love radiating through you through the action. 

the two of you do in fact spend the entire day together. starting with a little run to the local café to get your favorite coffee. 

then chan squeezes your hand softly and says “how about we go to the beach?” you nod. 

a short drive later you arrive. the sun shining bright, waves gently crashing to the shore. 

everything in this moment is perfect. you never want to let go of this moment. 

this moment with him.

 he seems so happy. by just spending time with you on this day, it seems as though all of his worries go away and he feels at peace with everything. 

standing there, toes in the sand, he never lets go of your hand. grabbing your waist softly with his free hand, he stops walking to stare at you. 

taking in every detail of your face. 

tracing every inch of it as he slowly lets go of your hand. you can see the love in his eyes. so pure. so real. 

you smile. smiling back, he then pinches your cheek and leans in and gives you the softest, sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. he just loves you so much that he couldn’t help himself. 

he pulls away. “you’re so beautiful. i love you so much. thank you for spending today with me.” now showing off his dimply smile. 

“i love you too channie. and of course i’d spend today with you, all i wanted was for you to spend your birthday well and enjoy it and it seems like that was the outcome.” you say smiling back.

 he engulfs you in a hug once more and the two of you turn to watch the sunset together. Hand in hand, not for a second thinking nor wanting to let go.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ but i'ma be under the mistletoe with you ❞

# prompts; 6: "They kiss under the mistletoe." 7: ^ but A does the, "Oops, I'm holding mistletoe above us, guess we have to kiss." thing.

# playlist; mistletoe - Justin Bieber

# word count; 737

# note; merry christmas to all who celebrate, & Happy Holidays to those who don't<333 i missed writing for arthur so much omg.

The holidays are always a stressful time, however, more than half of your family was abroad for Christmas this year, so you all had chosen to do your family celebrations on New Year instead. Arthur and Lisa were more than happy to have you with them instead.

You spent the morning making and eating a full English, exchanging gifts, and going through their old photo albums much to your boyfriend's protests.

His parents turned in early after a bit of chatter over a few glasses of wine, leaving you lying on the couch stuffed from both dinner and copious amounts of cookies. You tap the arm he has lazily resting on your chest, "'m gonna go get some water," he whines but when you lift his arm he sighs, dramatically letting it fall back against his chest.

"Don't be long," he calls out when you disappear off into the kitchen, his eyes catch a branch of mistletoe on the mantle he presumes his mum set out to add to her decor, giving him an idea.

He listens for you intently, when he finally hears you rummaging through the the freezer for ice, he takes the opportunity to set his plan into motion, he grabs the branch and leans against the door frame, silently watching you.

When you turn, you raise the cup to your lips until you spot him and more importantly the mistletoe he's holding above the door, making you snort, "if you wanted a kiss, you could've just asked," you mumble, shaking your head.

You shuffle toward him agonizingly slow. Arthur reaches out for you, his free hand pulling you into him by the front of your matching, festive pajamas. A confident smirk falls from your face, and a gasp escapes you at the sudden movement.

The feeling of the water swishing in the glass, the only sound now is the ice clinking against it. His voice interrupts the silence, suddenly having dropped an octave compared to earlier, "Oh look at that," his eyes flick up to what's pinched between his fingers, "Guess we might have to kiss, now..."

Setting the glass on the counter next to you, before you hum, "Think you might be right."

He smiles content with the fact that you're going along with things, he shrugs, "I don't make the rules," he pulls you into him impossibly closer, watching how your lips twitch slightly. You're floored and Arthur can simultaneously see and feel it, "May I?"

Smiling once more at how he never fails to make sure you're comfortable, "You may," somehow you've found yourself breathless at his words and demeanor alone. He dips down to catch your mouth with his, facial hair tickles your upper lip when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

Arthur's hands, warm and strong, slowly slide under the hoodie you had stolen earlier that morning. As he presses you back against the counter, your bodies locked together, you both freeze at the sound of a voice calling out just behind you, "Arthur, you've got a bedroom for a reason."

Lisa, shit. He steps away from you quickly, running his hands over his face and through his hair, "Sorry, mum," he mutters, he always talks about how comfortable they are with talking about certain things but you find yourself wanting to giggle at how he can't meet her eyes.

"She's a nice girl, she doesn't need to be done on my counter," you can't stifle your laughter now, you watch in your peripheral the way his face twists, "Mum! I understand, please," he pleads, obviously hating this conversation.

Lisa scoffs as she turns on her heels deciding she's said enough to his face, but she continues mumbling about raising him to be a gentleman as she disappears around the corner and shuts her bedroom door loudly.

"That's so embarrassing," he groans, hiding his face in his hands with a sigh. You reach for his wrists, tugging them away gently to reveal his reddening cheeks. "'ts not embarrassing," you reassure him, a small smile on your lips. "It's sweet; she cares."

He shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle as he drops it onto your shoulder. "Such a cockblock," he mutters into your ear. You flick the back of his neck, making him step back, rubbing the spot with a mock frown. "Maybe it's a sign we shouldn't be shagging in your parents' house, hm?"

[koenigami]

soft kissing hour. tags : fluff, fem!reader, touchy togame, mentions of reader wearing make up wc : 950 - Less is more. Togame likes to live by that simple rule in more than only one way. Whether that be his clothing, his minimalistically decorated home, or his decision to exchange his long messy mullet with a plain short undercut a few years ago. As cheesy as it sounds, he just thinks that it is important to appreciate the mundane things in life.

His conviction is even further undermined once your silhouette appears in the doorway of his bedroom.

It is the first time that you’re actually spending the night at his, and to say that he’s more than elated is an understatement.

Being able to watch you pad around his room in his own clothes, hold you in the comfort of his bed, and having the honor to have you being the last thing he sees before falling asleep as well as the first thing when he wakes up the following morning. The simple thought of it makes him only now aware of the fact that his home has been missing something significant all this time. You.

That's why you're met with the most gentle smile once you walk over to the unoccupied side of the bed, clad in an old shirt of his and sweat shorts.

A light shiver runs through your body accompanied with goosebumps rising along your skin once you slip under cold sheets. Yet when Togame's arm reaches out and pulls you in by your waist, you can't hold back the little hum of contentment once you feel his warmth.

You always tell him that he's a walking furnace. Especially on days when he calls you a living icicle. When your freezing fingers meet his warm palms, or when you bury your cold nose in the crevice of his neck, soaking in his warmth and the woody scent of his that you've gotten so very addicted to.

"I don't think I've seen you like this before." He speaks lowly once you're nestled against him, your head resting on his upper arm.

"Like what?" You breathe out and wonder whether he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. His lips are so close, all you would have to do is lean in the slightest bit only to taste him, slot your mouth against his and forget the entire world around you.

His soft gaze travels across your face. Your eyes, your lips, your jaw, your nose, again your lips-

Your eyebrows perk up when he opens his mouth, obviously unsure about how to word his thoughts. There's a stuttering beat against your chest, and you have no clue whether it is yours or his. A second passes, then another, and when the suspense is getting almost unbearable, Togame only sighs. You both giggle in unison when he just curses while a rosey blush suddenly dusts over his cheeks.

"Jo! Come on, just say it already." The corners of your mouth are starting to hurt from the bright grin plastered on your face. Though it falls slowly when his palm cups your jaw, and he just silently looks at you.

Your heart swells at how tenderly his thumb swipes over the skin of your cheek. Togame Jo, a man so strong yet a man who knows that the blessing of such a strength comes with certain responsibilities.

His broad shoulders and back have always been an advantage when facing adversaries, allowing him to intimidate them easily. Now, he knows that those same shoulders are meant to carry any burdens that seem to weigh you down.

Big strong hands that have punched and broken so much, been covered in blood for way too many times. Now, he can use those same hands to gently hold your softer ones in his, glide them over the plush skin of your curves and feel your warmth.

"What are you doing?" You giggle quietly when his thumb slides higher up to the corner of your eyes, tracing the dark shades which are usually covered by a light sheen of concealer. He can easily move the pad of his finger over your eyebrows and down your nose bridge without you whining about how he's messing up your make up.

"You're just-" You follow his eyes which somehow seem to drift all over your face, as if he wants to take in all of you and burn every single detail into his memory. There's just something so satisfying about being able to see every single mark and blemish on your skin, and it's crazy how he has thought that you could not be any prettier. Yet here you are, taking his breath away and leaving his mind empty, and unable to come up with words to properly describe you. "Pretty. Very."

A beat of silence passes, while you blink at him.

"My boyfriend has such a way with words." Your voice is a pitch higher as you fan your face, containing your smile with a bite on your lip until you shriek when his teeth suddenly graze your jaw.

"Maybe my girlfriend should have dated a poet instead then." There's something darker in his voice as he looks at you through hooded eyes. As if even the single thought of you with someone else is able to kindle a fire inside him that could only ever be extinguished by you yourself.

No, Togame may not be your classical poet. However the way his body language speaks to you, reacts to you, how his fingers trace all kinds of shapes into your skin, how his eyes roam all over your body, pupils dilating and throwing shadows into the green forest in his eyes- It's probably more worth than simple words on a piece paper.

"Nah." You quip and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him. The tip of your nose touches his. "I think I'm more than fine like this."

[starrieangel]

🍰Mouthwashing Crew takes you to a Character Cafe!☕️

Request by Anon: "... I was wondering if I could ask for some other Mouthwashing headcanons (Curly, Jimmy, Anya, and Daisuke)? Maybe them taking you to one of those cute character cafes like they have in Japan (i.e. Kirby Cafe, Pokemon Cafe, Moomin Cafe, etc.)..."

Features: Curly x Reader, Anya x Reader, Daisuke x Reader, Jimmy x Reader

Tags: Fluff, Normal!Jimmy, Curly is a dork (confirmed)

Curly

...takes you to Pokemon cafe!

Curly admires the cute outfit you picked out to go to the cafe, complimenting your favorite pokemon you have on your shirt or dress.

He has some pokemon merch of his own- Not only is he wearing a baseball cap with an embroidered pikachu design on it, but he goes "And wait til you see this-" before lifting up the pant leg of his jeans to show you his pokeball themed socks- This man is just too damn silly..!!

He is just as if not more excited to go than you, and he doesn't wanna be late!

You both get pikachu burgers and share a float topped with whipped cream and a cookie shaped like your favorite pokemon!

(Don't imagine him taking a drink and getting whipped cream on his nose. Don't imagine it because it's too cute and you'll die)

Later, you two get separated at the shop and you sneakily buy him a pikachu plushie keychain. You go to surprise him with it when he reveals that he's bought you the exact same one as a surprise too!!

Anya

... takes you to sailor moon cafe..!

You help Anya get dressed for the cafe! You initially picked out little skirts paired with white sweaters and a colored neck scarf to mimic the look of the sailor uniforms. She loves what you picked, but she decides you should both wear leggings underneath the skirts you picked out... the skirts were very short, oops!

You two decide to share a cheesecake, cookie, and milkshake between you both! (She’s a little worried about your sugar intake, starlight..!)

Anya is more than happy to take pictures of you in front of any cool decoration or with other cosplayers you see!

In fact, she's fangirling quite a bit herself!! I think Anya would love shoujo manga, and probably grew up watching sailor moon!

She would make sure to tell you afterward what a fun day you two had together, and how much she appreciates how much you both have in common!

Daisuke

...takes you to kirby cafe!

He has a surprise- he bought you both matching outfits. So now ur dressed like twins. To go to kirby cafe. You each have a pink shirt with your favorite character on it as well as shoes, shorts, and a kirby themed hat that he bought especially for this occasion.

When you arrive, he assures you you can get anything and everything you want off the menu, he has it covered!! Ok rich boy

He takes lots of photos of you both, taking selfies of you both in front of all the themed decor ~ Like, so many selfies (and tiktoks, he has brainrot)

Buys you more kirby merch than you know what to do with...

He likes teasing you and making you laugh with cute messages, so he sends you memes later of the kirby with a big mouth eating everything in sight and captions it "this is how u look eating that cake today"

Jimmy

...is dragged along to Pompom Purin Cafe!

Look, this is not really his idea of a date... you're lucky you're cute.. and really annoying when you beg

Still, he has an outfit picked out for you- you think it's cute how he lays your outfits out for you before you wake up, ready for you to put on in the morning. Secretly, he likes dressing you up like you're his little doll ♡ This time, he chose something on theme- a yellow dress ! You accessorize with a brown beret.

You two get desserts and drinks at the cafe- a pudding of course and a cake. Jimmy gives you whichever dessert you like more ♡ And you both get drinks with a cute character on them ♡

You explain to him who all the little characters are. He doesn't really get it, but he thinks it's really cute how you're taking photos of everything, you're so excited..!

Well, it's cute until you start taking photos of him (Tbh he doesn't really want evidence that he was there!!) He flat out tells you to delete a pic you took of him with a bit of frosting on his face ♡ (Sorry but that one is a keeper..!!)

[auragasmics]

LICK ME LIKE A LOLLIPOP!

𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 cw: 1.8k, drabble format, teasing, cunnilingus

Guilty…oh it’s so guilty but you can’t help it.

It’s your favorite movie on the living room television but you really can’t help it.

There, in the corner of your eye is a scene so innocent but a sight so sinful of Toji eating a lollipop. He’s so mindless with it, it’s almost so cute. But what wrings that adorable sense of joy into a dry, thirsty reality is the way his lips lock around the pink bulb, focusing all his attention down to a point.

Or maybe it’s the way your ear tunes into the delightful hums he sings whenever his mouth fills with the sweet confections, all to be washed away by a single ‘gulp’.

Your thighs have never been folded so tightly and your hands have never braced the black decorative pillow until tonight—a movie night at home, per Toji’s suggestion.

How could he sit there—a man such as he suckling on that confections knob of sugar without a care.

“Um…Toji, I thought you didn’t like sugary candy?”

Before paying you a glance, he pried the pink lollipop from his jaw, leaving nothing but the glimmering wisps of spit to drip from his lips.

“I grabbed it from the bank today and forgot it was in my pocket. Used to love them when I was younger. Why…you want some?”

“No, I don’t think sharing lollipops are—”

“Aww, why not? You can just pretend it’s my d—”

“Okay! T-Thank you, Toji. I’ll have a taste then,” you sigh, leaning towards his beckoning side.

His chiseled arm laced around your shoulder, his hand bracing along its curve. The tips of his fingers softly traced along your pried jaw. His own sights bounced between the unfolding scene of your big, fluttering doe eyes calling out to meet his gaze and the sinking of the sweetened orb finally resting along the flat of your tongue.

A wicked grin cracked along Toji’s lips, hiding his pleased whims against the curve of your ear.

“That’s my good girl. You look so pretty using your tongue fr’ me.”

“Toji!” The squealing shout bringing his grin to a full-hearted smile. Toji could simply react, his arms encircling you in an embrace and his cheek smothered against your own.

“Oh I’m sorry Princess, just got a flashback in my head. I’ll behave like I promised.”

Shamefully, you nodded to his words as you gave into his warmth.

“Mm…my turn!” Toji chimed as he pinched the lollipop stick between two fingers.

Your eyes watched as he tugged the candy from your lips and back into his own, the tip of his tongue swirling about the polished sweet.

Seconds turned into minutes and those very minutes turned into the passing scenes of the movie on the screen. Toji earned your attention far quicker than the film, a fact that he could no longer ignore.

“Alright, you’ve been watching me more than the movie—and it’s your favorite…what’s up, Dollface?” Toji finally interjected. Toji’s full attention was placed onto you, that damned lollipop standing within his thick digits.

Widened eyes and a parting gap filled your lips as you stumbled upon some words to fill the silence.

“I…don’t know…what to say…I just…want some.”

“If you wanted some more, you could’ve asked. Here—”

You caught Toji’s wrist as he returned the lollipop to your lips, the sticky bulb pecking against your lips.

“I don’t want that right now. I just…since when did you eat candy like that?”

The arch in his brow spoke more for Toji than what his fumbling words could. He returned the lollipop back into the wrapper sitting on the glass coffee table, folding what’s left between the colorful wax paper. With his attention clear, Toji brought his full visage to you with a newly placed smirk.

“Huh? I’m just…I see what’s goin’ on here.”

“Hm? What’s going on—”

Before you could even finish your words, Toji was already ways ahead of you. With just a blink of an eye, he had your back pressed and arching against the arm of his couch and your chest smothered along the thick hull of his own.

It was one thing to be beneath Toji at his own whim, but bearing the heft of the accompanying stare was nothing short of stupefying. It comes without a call for regard, but yet you can’t help but forfeit your attention to him and him alone.

All his fascinations about you—the wants and desires crowd about the darkening blue hues of his eyes and consume his whole being. He’s even eager enough to close the distance that much more, pitting the very thumps of his heart to fade along your enveloped chest.

All that stains the thick air is the staggering breaths clogging the lungs of you and Toji alike, growing until his confidence reaches the peak to finally speak.

“You don’t have a problem with me eating this candy—hell, you don’t even care about any of that. You’ve got that look in your eye that I love.”

“And what look might that be?”

And of course, you didn’t need Toji to tell you—you already knew. It’s that look when stubbornness and determination form the thinnest of silver lines, careful not to cross each other’s boundaries. When your eyes peer up to meet his own, your pupils grow to encapsulate to contain all that tension down to a single point.

The look of desire.

And of course Toji knows that look all too well—he fell for it the very night you met and put a ring on your finger under a year later. It’s because the second you pass those eyes his way, he can’t help but give in to you.

“The look of you wanting something. Y’know what I like to say—Whatever my pretty girl wants, she gets. So…what do you want, Princess?”

The weathered palm of his hands brace at your waist, the pads rubbing at the supple skin as he makes a path to slot himself between your thighs.

Toji’s glare flickered, the tips of his fingers drifting along the lacy triangle front of your panties as your voice lovely warbles out some facade.

“Hm? You know I hate mumbling, Sweetheart. But I think I heard you want some attention, right?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Toji shot a stifling glare back towards you, “So then what did you say?”

A silence fell over you as you searched for the unnecessary words. Nothing more had to be said at this point, except for the couch’s springs aching out as it bared the shifting weight of your lifted hips for Toji’s subtle tug at your intertwined pair of black shorts and blush pink panties. Your eyes followed his movements, the slow pull of clothing down your legs and to being tossed out into the dark oblivion of the living room.

Toji’s cheek sank along your thigh as he waited for a response, his hands taking hold of the supple plush to trap you in his hold. “Exactly, you don’t need to say or think of anything, Princess. Just let me take care of you, ‘kay?”

The soft curve of Toji’s pout is the gentlest of sensations to pool at your navel and pull the mellowest of gasps from your lips. Just a kiss, a luscious one that’s carefully met by the timid bud of your clit.

But he’s only this kind with you for a single minute. And in that single minute, he’s peppering those sweet kisses everywhere as nothing as a courtesy—an introduction, really. The moment sixty seconds pass, his courteous nature sheds away.

Why, once Toji makes the mistake of absorbing the poor, pink bulb between his lips…he’s a man lost to lust. He can’t help but to induce a suckling tug along your clit, relishing the swelling throbs to strum within his mouth. Just to spite you, Toji lets the bundle of nerves greet the frigid air for a second as he takes a moment to observe the mess he’s made of you.

The tips of his fingers wander from the crease of your thigh to graze at the sopping slit of your pussy, begging for attention.

“Mm, n-no hands, Toji. Just keep doin that, please?” You broke out carefully.

He shot you a glare, a particular one at that—a leering gaze, one riddle with spite.

“I gotcha, no hands tonight.”

His words didn’t settle the worry brewing at your core. He’s agreed but knowing Toji, your terms would work out in his favor.

Yet, your thoughts ran dry the moment Toji pressed his cheek back along your inner thigh. Just by the swirl of his tongue, he’s pulled you back down into ecstasy with a breathy moan.

His tongue’s been waiting all the same to taste you, making no haste to delve between your folds at last. As eager as Toji is, he’s sure to catch every drop of your essence, allowing your honeyed pussy to meld into his senses.

When he’s ready to start all over, he lets his jaw come to a slow close as he drags the flat of his tongue from your hole back up to the puffy hood. He’s even keeping his eyes glued above, ensuring that you’re watching just how lazily he reels your twitching clit back into his care.

“Fuck…I wanna touch you s’ bad,” Toji whimpers out as he pulls away for a breath. The pads of his thumb drag along the puffy lips of your pussy, his touching lingering just beside the glossy bulb. “But if my lady says no hands…”

“N-No, you can use your hands now, Toji…please,” you whine, flashing a weak yet coaxing smile towards him.

Yet your pleas fall on deaf ears as Toji returns to his ministrations. He really had no intention of touching you—just like you instructed. It didn’t help that his eyes remained pinned with yours, those blue hues mocking your growing misery. But you truly couldn’t take it, that knot in your belly reaching desperate heights.

In the corner of his eye, Toji’s catching the rarest of phenomenons: your legs trembling in his care. It’s something he knows you try to control out of some temperance, but tonight must be his lucky night.

“If you keep moving like that, I can’t focus on you, Pretty,” he hums, pulling away from your folds with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Then I guess you’ll have to touch me, right?”

“But it’s more fun if I don’t. I mean, this is what you wanted. Got all jealous ‘nd needy over a piece of candy and now you can’t take it…tsk-tsk-tsk, that’s not like you, Baby,” his words marked by a greedy grin.

All that could chime from your blubbering lips were whimpers, the ones that made Toji smile the most. Your hands came to brace the fabric of the couch’s armrest as Toji drove back between your legs, his grip on your thighs stilling your restlessness.

And that’s all Toji did, just lick you like a lollipop.