#chime payment

[babsaros]

had to download chime, here’s my referral code if anyone wants to do it and get $100

[jialissa-only]

[icontributed]

Join me on Chime and we'll each get $100. Terms apply. https://chime.com/r/annpitts4?c=s

Come on let's make money 💰

[feelingemotjons]

a black trans women is in need of help

@miracleon63rdstreet is a black trans women who has gone through absolute hell and back. She is currently in a lot of debt and she and her cousin don’t have enough money to feed her cats and her cousin’s kids. She is living with her cousin and her cousin’s electricity bill is due on the 10th

if anyone could give her money on her cashapp, venmo, paypal, chime, or gofundme it would be greatly appreciated

[mapis-putellas]

𝑺𝒊𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The soft chime of the bell over your studio door broke the quiet as Alexia walked in, her familiar silhouette instantly drawing your attention. She wore a loose black hoodie and gray sweatpants, her hair tied back in a messy bun. Her eyes found yours, and the faintest smile tugged at her lips as she made her way toward you.

“Hola, cariño,” she greeted, her voice low and warm as she leaned over the counter to kiss your cheek.

“Hi, baby,” you replied, smiling as you wiped your hands on a towel. You’d just finished reorganizing your supplies for the third time that morning, nerves settling into something calmer now that she was here.

Alexia leaned her elbows on the counter, her green eyes roaming the space as if she hadn’t been here a hundred times before. “Estás ocupada?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I kept my morning free since you said you were coming.”

She gave you a small, grateful smile and nodded. “Bien. I want… un tatuaje nuevo,” she said, shifting a little in place.

“Oh, yeah?” you teased, tilting your head at her as you stepped out from behind the counter. “What do you want this time, captain?”

She held your gaze for a moment before tugging her hoodie up just enough to expose her ribs on her left side. Her skin was smooth and tan, and your fingers instinctively reached out to touch her as she traced the spot with her own hand. “Aquí,” she said softly. “Quiero… ‘Siempre.’ In your writing.”

Your brows lifted slightly at her choice, and a small smile tugged at your lips. “Siempre?” you repeated, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You didn’t need to ask why—both of you said it all the time. It was your word, your promise to each other.

Alexia nodded as she subconsciously leaned into your touch, eyes soft as they searched yours. “Sí. Para ti.”

Heat crept into your cheeks, and you cleared your throat as you gestured toward the back. “Alright, let’s get you set up then.”

Alexia followed you without hesitation, her presence filling the small space of your private studio. She was familiar with the routine by now, sitting down in the tattoo chair as you washed your hands and began to gather your supplies.

“Are you sure you want it on your ribs?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her. “It’s gonna hurt.”

She smirked, leaning back in the chair with an air of confidence. “Puedo manejarlo,” she said, her tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, tough girl. Don’t come crying to me later.”

Alexia chuckled softly, pulling her hoodie off and setting it aside. The tattoos scattered across her arms and back were on full display now, each one carrying its own story. You loved tracing them with your fingers late at night, listening to her whisper their meanings in Spanish while your head rested on her chest.

“Relax,” you told her gently as you approached, marker in hand. You set it down for just a second before picking up some green soap and a razor to remove the minuscule hairs from her skin. “Sit back, lift your arm a bit.” You direct.

She obeyed, her lean, athletic frame shifting slightly to give you access to the area. Once you’d made quick but careful work of removing the hairs, you once again grab the marker. Your eyes focused as you leaned in, your fingers steady as you wrote out the tattoo in your utmost best writing.

“Perfect,” you murmured, leaning back to inspect your work. “Take a look and let me know what you think.”

Alexia craned her neck to see the small outline you’d drawn on her ribs. She nodded once, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Me gusta.”

“Good,” you said, setting the marker aside as you rise to your feet to wash your hands again. Once clean, you slip on a pair of latex gloves and reach for the tattoo gun as you sit back down. You glanced up at her, your tone turning playful. “Now, remember the deal. No pouting about payment.”

Alexia’s lips twitched, and she rested her head back against the chair, watching you with amused eyes. “Besos?”

“Besos,” you confirmed with a grin. “That’s all I’ll accept.”

Alexia laughed, the sound low and warm as it filled the space. “Eres terca,” she murmured, though there was no bite to her words.

“And you love me for it,” you shot back, your voice light as you prepped the machine.

She didn’t argue, simply tilting her head slightly as she watched you work. “Sí, siempre.”

You glanced up at her then, your chest tightening at the soft sincerity in her tone. “Siempre,” you echoed, smiling before turning your focus back to the task at hand.

The low hum of the tattoo machine filled the room as you carefully began the design. Alexia sat still, her expression relaxed save for the occasional furrow of her brow when the needle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“You okay?” you asked after a few minutes, glancing up to check on her.

Her lips twitched into a small smirk. “Told you… puedo manejarlo,” she assured.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “Alright, Miss Tough Girl.”

As you worked, the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. Alexia told you about her last match you hadn’t been able to attend, how her teammates had teased her for accidentally kicking the ball out of bounds. You shared a funny story about one of your clients, who had nearly fainted halfway through their tattoo because they’d insisted they could handle the pain.

“Es como Mapi,” Alexia said with a laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “She acts… so fuerte, but when she got her back tattoo, she cried.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you dipped the needle back into the ink. “I’ll have to remind her of that next time she teases me.” You grumbled as you pulled her skin taut with the hand that was also holding the kitchen towel you were using to wipe away the excess ink.

Alexia grinned, her gaze softening as she watched you. “You’re… muy linda when you work,” she said quietly.

Your cheeks flushed, and you ducked your head slightly, focusing on the tattoo to hide your reaction. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Es verdad.”

You glanced up at her, your heart fluttering at the earnest look in her eyes. “You’re distracting me, baby,” you murmured.

Alexia smirked, leaning her head back again with a satisfied expression. “Good.”

The rest of the session passed in comfortable silence, save for the occasional hum of the machine and Alexia’s soft breathing. When you finally finished, you sat back with a sigh of relief, inspecting your work.

“All done, go take a look.” You said, setting the machine aside and pulling off your gloves.

Alexia sat up slowly before easing herself off of the chair, making her way over to the mirror sat just to the left of her. Her hand immediately goes to her side as she twisted to get a better look, eyes lighting up as she took in the delicate lettering etched into her skin.

“Es perfecto,” she said softly, her fingers brushing over the fresh tattoo.

You smiled, leaning against the counter as you watched her. “I’m glad you like it.”

After a few quiet moments, you spoke again.

“Alright, baby, sit back down,” you said, gesturing toward the chair. “I need to wrap it up so you don’t mess it up before you can show it off.”

She chuckled, obeying without protest, though her gaze never left you. “Eres la mejor,” she murmured.

“Oh, I know I am,” you teased, carefully cleaning the tattoo with madacide.

She smirked. “Dork.” she said, her tone playful.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you reached for the plastic wrap to cover the area. “Well, I could start charging you, you know. Some people pay me a fortune for this.”

Her lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Mis besos son suficientes,” she replied, leaning her head back against the chair.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, securing the wrap carefully over her ribs with some medical tape. “There,” you said, leaning back to inspect your work. “Now you can go and show it off to Mapi and make her jealous.”

Alexia grinned as she pulled her hoodie back over her head, sitting up straight and turning in place so her legs hung over the side of the chair. “Tu besos,” she murmured softly, her hands finding the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you closer.

“You’re very persistent, you know that?” you said as you come to step between her legs, though the corners of your lips twitched as you fought a smile.

“Siempre,” she replied. Her arms wrap around your thighs, just beneath your behind, and pulled you so your chest was flush against her own.

Before you could say anything else, her lips were on yours, soft and warm. She kissed you slowly, deeply, her hands sliding up to your waist to hold you in place. You sighed against her mouth, your hands coming up to rest lightly on each of her cheeks as her tongue grazes the roof of your mouth.

When she finally pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, and you were certain your legs felt a little weaker than before. Alexia smirked at you, clearly pleased with herself, and pressed a final kiss to the corner of your mouth as she pats your ass a couple times.

“Payment complete,” she murmured, her voice tinged with amusement.

You huffed out a laugh, stepping back to give yourself a moment to recover. “Alright, get out of here before I change my mind and start charging you for real.”

Alexia chuckled, standing and stretching her arms above her head. “Gracias, mi amor,” she said softly, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before grabbing her bag.

You followed her to the front of the studio, watching as she pulled her hoodie tighter around herself and adjusted her bag strap.

“Te veré más tarde,” she murmured, lips quirked up into a tender smile.

“See you later, baby,” you replied, leaning up to press a quick kiss to her cheek before she walked out the door.

Once she was gone, you shook your head fondly and went back to cleaning up the studio, humming softly to yourself as you worked. It wasn’t until later, when you checked your phone, that you noticed a new notification from your bank.

You opened it and immediately groaned when you saw the familiar four-figure amount Alexia had transferred to your account, listed under a memo that simply read, Gracias, bebé.

“Alexia Putellas Segura,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head as a smile tugged at your lips.

You’d told her time and time again not to pay you, but she never listened. She might have been stubborn, but so were you, and you made a mental note to bring it up again the next time you saw her—right after kissing her senseless to thank her for always showing how much she cared, even when she didn’t have to.

**

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @chelseacult

[genderqueerdykes]

homeless disabled trans person needs help affording more nights in hotel while government housing program keeps delaying my move in-date

3/11/2024: hello, my name is equinox. i am a homeless severely disabled trans person who is living in a hotel. i have been working with this apartment complex since october, working through a program for low-income severely disabled people who will provide me a rent figure based off of my earned income. because i sell jewelry and accept donations online, they are extremely confused as to how much income i make and have been stalling and delaying the process this entire time.

i was promised a move-in date of Tuesday, 2/27/2024, then 2/29/2024, only to have it pushed back yet again. i already set up the electricity in my name as they requested it of me on the 27th. it is march 11th, and i have no idea of when i will be approved, now.

today, i received this email:

i have given them this information several times over the past few months. i have explained that venmo does not generate statements, and that gofundme does not hold a balance. now i've had to explain that stripe also does not hold a balance, and that tumblr is not a payment gateway.

i have been in a hotel for over a month because of this. i have had to explain this information over and over again and have made no headway. i broke down crying this morning because this has been psychological torture. my hotel room is only $38/night. i have tonight booked, but will need help saving up for future nights, as well as the deposit and if i'm ever accepted at this place:

pay pal: glittergraphicnightmare@ gmail . com venmo: @ equinoxian cash app: $glitterGraphix chime: $Equinoxian

you can also support me here, i sell jewelry as well as zines on my ko-fi:

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘

ㅤㅤjoel miller x plus size!f!reader

genre: romance, flowershop au, jackson era, minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you own a small flower shop in Jackson, when Ellie comes to visit, your life inevitably becomes tangled with the man who cares for her; joel miller.

warnings: age gap, piv in the middle of a flower field, no one sees, praise kink, some angst because joel, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while and honestly, life has been kicking me in the gut lately with everything its got.

This originally was a commission, reader had a name and I've been working at it for months but sadly the person who commissioned be backed out last second saying they weren't interested anymore meaning I'm not getting paid for this work. Again, it's on me. Admittedly I've been slow on commissions due to my living situation and work and I should've taken half the payment upfront but trusting it was a joel fic I didn't really take extra precautions.

I decided to share it anyway, and the person who commissioned me said that I could. Any kind of writing has been hard for me to do lately and I really like how this one turned out. But since now I'm not getting paid for this work I decided to take out readers name and make some changes to the overall plot that I was given.

Sadly, I can't take any more commissions at the moment before finishing the ones I have left, but I'd be grateful for any kind of support you guys can give. I need to move out this summer (if I don't, I don't have a shadow of a doubt that my aunts will tell me to leave anyway) and I've been trying to save up as much as I can. Everything just has been a lot lately and I'm feeling anxious about my decisions and lost.

Again, any kind of support is greatly appreciated even tho I know I don't deserve it at this time:

my kofi

**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

You unlock the door to your quaint flower shop, the antique bell that you found and Tommy fixed chiming softly in greeting. Stepping outside, you're immediately embraced by the warmth of the morning sun, its golden rays dancing playfully on your skin. The air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, a delicate blend of fresh blossoms and earthy notes that fills your lungs with every inhale.

Dressed in a flowing dress, you feel perfectly in tune with the season as you begin arranging the colorful array of flowers on display outside your shop. The fabric of your dress sways gently in the breeze, a soft symphony of movement that mirrors the graceful dance of the petals.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and tilt your face towards the sky, basking in the gentle caress of the sun's rays. Above you, the cerulean expanse is dotted with fluffy white clouds, their shapes shifting and morphing with each passing moment.

With practiced hands, you arrange the blooms with care, each stem finding its place in the intricate tapestry of colors and textures. The vibrant hues of the flowers contrast beautifully against the backdrop of the weathered brick walls of your shop, creating a scene that's both inviting and enchanting.

As you work, you can't help but smile at the thought of the joy these flowers will bring to those who pass by. It’s been hard adopting to a new and broken world, but ironically, you have found your passion. Something to make you eager to get up in the morning. Of course your heart still ached for those you had lost, the suffering, but working on flowers, something living and growing and adapting just like you managed to lighten the weight on your heart. Whether it's a simple bouquet to brighten someone's day or a thoughtful arrangement for a special occasion, your creations have a way of spreading happiness and light wherever they go.

With the last of the flowers arranged to perfection, you step back to admire your handiwork, a sense of pride swelling within you. With a contented sigh, you turn to head back inside, ready to greet the day with open arms and a heart full of gratitude.

That is, until, you hear a surprised gasp. 

“Holy shit—” 

Turning around at the sound, you're met with the sight of a familiar face. A young girl you've seen around town quite frequently. You haven’t officially met her yet, but you know her name: Ellie. 

Realizing that the young girl has never visited your flower shop before, you understand the source of her surprise. With a warm smile, you approach her and greet her by name. "You're Ellie, right? Tommy's niece?"

Ellie nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright with excitement. "Yeah, that's me! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I've just never been here before. The flowers are... fucking amazing—"

She suddenly claps a hand over her mouth, looking towards you apologetically. The gesture makes you laugh.

"I'm glad you like them," you reply, feeling a sense of satisfaction at her reaction. "Feel free to take a closer look if you'd like."

Her eyes light up at the invitation, and she eagerly follows you inside the cozy flower shop. The atmosphere inside is warm and inviting, with shelves lined with potted plants and bouquets of flowers in various stages of bloom. Sunlight filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating the vibrant colors of the blooms.

As you lead Ellie further into the shop, you can't help but notice the curious glances she casts around, taking in every detail with a sense of wonder. The air is filled with the subtle fragrance of flowers, a delicate scent that lingers in the air and adds to the charm of the space.

"So, Ellie," you begin, breaking the comfortable silence as you approach a display of freshly cut flowers, "Anything you like? I’d be more than happy to gift you some."

Ellie's eyes sparkle with excitement as she looks around the shop. "Really? But there’s so many, how can I even choose?"

"Well, you're in luck," you reply, gesturing towards the colorful blooms around you. "I can just make you a bouquet of everything. Just pick out your favorites."

Ellie's gaze drifts over the display, her expression thoughtful as she considers your question. "Hmm, that's a tough one, they all look so fucking cool," she muses, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. "How about sunflowers and. . . daisies? There's just something about them that feels... I don't know, hopeful, I guess."

You nod in understanding, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Sunflowers are a wonderful choice. They symbolize warmth, happiness, and positivity. Definitely a fitting choice for someone as vibrant as you, Ellie."

She grins at the compliment, "Thanks,. So, what about you? Do you have a favorite flower?"

“That’s a tough one, but I’d had to say daffodils. They just make me feel right at home. . . even though home has become a difficult word.” 

She doesn’t answer you, at least not in a way that you would expect. She nods and says,

"Let's add some daffodils to the mix too. If that’s okay.”

“If course it is. I said any flower didn’t I?”

With Ellie's choices in mind, you set to work gathering the blooms she selected, expertly arranging them into a vibrant bouquet. Your hands move with practiced precision, the gentle rustle of petals and stems filling the air as you weave the different flowers together.

Each blossom is a work of art in its own right, vibrant hues mingling together in a harmonious dance of colors and textures. Sunflowers, with their golden petals reaching towards the sky, stand tall and proud at the center of the bouquet, symbolizing warmth and happiness. Daisies, with their delicate white petals and cheerful yellow centers, add a touch of innocence and purity to the mix. And finally, the daffodils.

Beside you, Ellie watches with rapt attention, her eyes shining, "It's so pretty," she remarks, her voice filled with awe.

You smile at her words, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at the sight of her delight. "Flowers have a way of bringing joy and beauty into our lives," you reply, your voice soft with reverence. "They remind us to appreciate the simple things and to find beauty in the world around us."

Finally, the bouquet is complete, a stunning masterpiece that radiates warmth and joy. You present it to Ellie with a flourish, a sense of satisfaction washing over you at the sight of her delighted expression.

"It's perfect," Ellie exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement as she admires the bouquet in her hands. "Thank you so much. This is amazing."

"It was my pleasure," you reply, your heart swelling with happiness at her words. "I'm glad you like it. And remember, if you ever want to learn more about flowers or need some help with anything, you know where to find me."

Ellie nods eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious. "Definitely. Thanks again. This means a lot."

As Ellie turns to leave, a sudden thought seems to strike her. She pauses, her hand on the door, before turning back to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Hey," she begins, a playful smile dancing on her lips, "do you need a flower assistant? I mean, I’d be nice to work here, and you seem really cool."

"Well, Ellie," you reply with a teasing grin, "If you're serious about helping out around here, I'd be more than happy to have you on board."

Ellie's eyes widen,. "Wait, really?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You mean it?"

You nod, your smile genuine as you reassure her. "Of course. I could use all the help I can get, especially during busy times. And besides, it'll be fun having you around. Consider yourself officially hired as my flower assistant, Ellie."

A grin spreads across Ellie's face, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of working alongside you in the flower shop. "Wow, I don't even know what to say," she admits, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. 

"No need to say anything," you grin. "Just don’t be late."

As Ellie nods, a sense of anticipation fills the air, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. With a shared sense of excitement and determination, you and Ellie set to work, ready to take on whatever challenges and adventures the future may hold for your blossoming partnership.

The next day unfolds with a golden hue, promising another beautiful day in Jackson. As you prepare for the day ahead, a sense of excitement tingles in the air knowing that you'll be mentoring Ellie, your newfound flower assistant. Ellie arrives earlier than you expected, her eyes oozing with sleep.

"Good morning, Ellie," you greet her with a warm smile, gesturing for her to come closer. "Ready for your first day?"

Ellie grins back, nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I’m just not used to waking up so early."

With a chuckle, you lead her to the work table, where several potted plants await repotting. However, before diving into the day's tasks, Ellie's curiosity gets the better of her.

"How do you find all these flowers?" she asks. "I mean, with the infected and everything, it must be hard."

"I have a few spots outside of Jackson where I like to go to collect flowers. There's a field not too far from here that's brimming with all sorts of blooms."

Ellie's eyes widen and you can tell she's intrigued by the idea of venturing beyond the safety of the town's walls. "That sounds amazing," she breathes, her voice filled with wonder. "Do you go there often?"

You nod, a fond smile playing on your lips as you recall the countless trips you've taken to the flower field. "Yes, whenever I need to restock or find something special," you reply. "But I've also started growing some flowers myself. It's a work in progress, but it's been rewarding to see them bloom."

"That's so cool," she exclaims. "I'd love to see the field sometime, if you're up for it."

With a grin, you nod, "I'd be happy to take you," you reply. "But for now, let's focus on getting these plants repotted. We'll save the field trip for another day."

As if on cue, the shop door swings open, and a customer steps inside, a worn backpack slung over their shoulder. They approach the counter with a friendly smile, their eyes scanning the colorful array of blooms on display.

"Good morning," you greet them with a smile, your attention shifting to the customer. "How can I help you today?"

The customer returns your smile, reaching into their backpack to retrieve a small item wrapped in cloth. "I have something to trade," they explain, placing the item on the counter before you.

You unwrap the cloth to reveal a delicate piece of jewelry, a handmade necklace adorned with intricate beads and charms. It's a beautiful piece, clearly crafted with care and attention to detail.

Ellie watches with interest as you examine the necklace, her curiosity piqued by the exchange taking place before her eyes. "What are you trading for?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

You glance at Ellie with a smile, impressed by her keen observation. "Well, Ellie, sometimes customers trade items in exchange for flowers," you explain, turning back to the customer. "It's a way for them to get something they need while also supporting the shop. As for how I decide what the flowers are worth, it's based on a few factors—like the rarity of the flowers, the time and effort it took to grow them, and of course, their beauty."

With a nod, you accept the necklace, carefully placing it aside before selecting a beautiful bouquet of flowers to offer in exchange. As the customer leaves the shop, their smile brighter than before, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you've made another person's day a little bit brighter.

“Ellie, I’m not sure me bargin’ into your new workplace is the best introduction,” Joel says.

“You’ll be fine,” she says, dragging Joel by the arm. “Besides, weren’t you the one grumbling about not liking me spending all my time with a stranger? What else was I fucking supposed to do?”

Joel lets out an elongated sigh. “Language.”

He can’t see it, but he knows she’s rolling her eyes at him. The tiny, rundown flower shop soon comes into view and Joel can’t help but think of all the improvements he could make: the crooked step, the splintered door, the moss growing from the bottom of the woody exterior—

This shop won’t last next winter, he thinks with furrowed brows. And even though he’s been skeptical about Ellie spending all of her time here, he’s seen the improvement in her mood. Things just haven’t been the same since their return from the hospital, he couldn’t shake the distant feeling between him and her no matter how hard he tried. It had become something even he couldn’t fix.

But then, one day, she’d come home with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d ever seen, with a wide smile plastered across her young face. Then she mentioned the keeper of the shop. Ever since then, his interest had been piqued.

Approaching the shop, he notices a figure outside arranging flowers, your silhouette bathed in the warm morning sun. You appear younger than he anticipated, your beauty catching him off guard. The way your dress contours your curves adds to your allure, a sight unexpected yet captivating. A gentle breeze tousles your hair as you work, momentarily leaving him speechless.

Contrasting his hesitation, you bound up to the shop with your usual cheerfulness. "Hey there!" Ellie calls out. The woman turns at her greeting, a genuine smile gracing her lips as she sets down the flowers. "Good morning!" 

He hangs back, observing as Ellie effortlessly initiates a conversation with you. Your interaction flows with ease, suggesting a familiarity beyond your brief acquaintance.

While you chat, an unsettling feeling settles within him. There's an inexplicable pull towards the shop owner, despite his attempts to resist. Watching Ellie interact with you stirs a strange longing within him, leaving him more unsettled than before.

Before he can dwell on his thoughts further, Ellie snaps him out of it. "Joel, don’t be a stranger! Introduce yourself, she's the one I've been telling you about."

With a sigh, he steps forward, his approach cautious. As your eyes meet, a peculiar sense of recognition passes between you, as if you've crossed paths in another life.

"Hi," he manages to say, his voice gruff yet not devoid of warmth. "I'm Joel."

As he clasps your hand, a spark ignites between you, a connection unfurling with each passing moment.

“Joel?” you say slowly, as if tasting his name in your mouth. “Joel as in Tommy Miller’s brother?”

Your hand feels soft and delicate as it clasps his own, and he can't help but notice the subtle tremor in your fingers. It's a small detail, but it speaks volumes, hinting at a vulnerability that he hadn't expected from this beautiful stranger.

"Yeah, that's me," he responds with a nod, offering a friendly smile in return. "Tommy's my brother."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Joel. Ellie speaks very highly of you."

As you exchange pleasantries, he finds himself drawn to the warmth in your gaze, a warmth that seems to seep into his very soul. There's an openness about you, a genuineness that he finds both refreshing and disarming.

While you talk, he can't help but be captivated by the way your lips move, the gentle cadence of your voice. It's a strange sensation, this sudden fascination with a woman he's just met, but he finds himself unable to look away.

Your conversation is interrupted by Ellie's playful interruption, and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from you, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of leaving your side. But as they follow Ellie into the shop, he can't shake the feeling that meeting you has stirred something within him, something that he can't quite articulate.

Entering the shop, he can't help but notice even more things wrong– the creaky floorboards, the peeling paint, the flickering lights overhead. It's evident that the place is in dire need of renovations.

Despite the less-than-ideal surroundings, Ellie's excitement is contagious, and he finds himself getting swept up in the moment. She points out various flowers, their vibrant hues and delicate petals bringing a welcome burst of color to the dreary environment.

"These lilies are my absolute favorite," Ellie exclaims, thrusting a handful of flowers towards him with a mischievous grin.

He can't suppress a surprised sneeze as the pollen tickles his nose, and they both dissolve into laughter,and momentarily, all his concerns seem to fade away.

But just as they're catching their breath, you enter the room, your presence once again capturing his attention. There's something about you that intrigues him, a warmth and kindness that draws him in effortlessly.

A sheepish smile spreads across his face as your eyes meet. You return the smile, your gaze gentle and understanding, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as though you're the only two people in the room.

“Who helped you fix the place up?” Joel asks you as Ellie runs off to change the water of the vases. “

"Tommy actually," you explain. "He's been a tremendous help, especially with all the repairs."

Joel’s brows knit together and he ignores the way your smile falters as he speaks, “Well, leave it to my brother to do a shit job. This shop won’t last next winter.”

“O–Oh. . .” you hug yourself, thumbs moving along the contours of your arms. His heart sinks in, leave it to him to make someone feel bad.

“Not to say it can’t be fixed,” he continues abruptly. “I can help you out. Wouldn’t want Ellie’s new favorite spot to get buried under the snow.”

“Really?” you gasp, smile returning. “You would do that?”

“‘Course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just. . . I just wasn’t expecting such an offer thank you. It means the world to me.”

Suddenly Joel feels stiff from how deeply you stare at him, and then he realizes how close they are, only a breath away between their lips. He turns his head, grunting, “Don’t mention it,” a stuttered breath leaves him. “Really. Don’t.”

Your growing smile surprises him, as does your not backing away.

“You got it, Mr. Miller.”

Watching Joel work on fixing the roof of the shop, you can't help but feel a flutter of warmth stir within you. His muscles ripple with each movement, his arms bulging with strength as he lifts heavy beams and hammers nails into place. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, catching the sunlight and creating a halo of light around him.

You find yourself mesmerized by the sight, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him. His white tank top clings to his chest, damp with sweat, and the short-sleeved flannel he wears hangs open, exposing the tank top underneath. Every movement sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to your cheeks.

The sound of his grunts fills the air, low and guttural, and it sends a thrill through you that you can't quite explain. There's something primal about the way he works, a raw energy that draws you in and leaves you feeling breathless.

You watch as he reaches up to adjust a beam, his muscles flexing with the effort, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like to run your hands over his warm, sweaty skin. The thought sends a shudder coursing through you, and you quickly look away, feeling flustered and embarrassed by the intensity of your thoughts.

But no matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your gaze keeps drifting back to Joel, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And as you watch him work, you can't help but feel a strange sense of longing stir within.

But for now, all you can do is watch and admire from afar, content to bask in the warmth of Joel's presence as he works tirelessly to repair the roof of the shop. And as you watch him, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself with determination as you clutch the bowl of freshly picked black mulberries and raspberries in your hands. With a quick glance up at Joel, who is perched precariously on the ladder, you gather your courage and make your way outside.

"Hey, Joel!" you call out, your voice tinged with nervousness as you approach the ladder. "I brought you some fruit and iced tea. Thought you could use a break."

Joel looks down at you with a grateful smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Thanks. That sounds great."

As he descends the ladder, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. With each step he takes, you steal glances at him, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him.

But it's when he reaches the bottom of the ladder and stretches upwards to take the bowl of fruit from your hands that you feel your breath catch in your throat. The movement causes his tank top to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of his stomach, and you swallow thickly at the sight.

As Joel settles down to enjoy the fruit and iced tea, you find yourself drawn to the empty spot next to him on the porch. With a nervous glance in his direction, you take a seat beside him.

The warmth of the wooden porch beneath you contrasts with the cool breeze that sweeps through, and you can't help but feel a sense of calm settle over you as you sit beside Joel. The silence between you is comfortable, broken only by the occasional sound of birds chirping in the distance.

“Lovely day, ain’t it,” Joel takes a bite of the freshly picked black mulberries, the deep purple juice stains his lips, a stark contrast against the ruggedness of his features, and you find yourself mesmerized by the sight.

The juice glistens in the fading sunlight, tracing a vivid trail along his lips as he savors the sweetness of the fruit. Each movement of his jaw seems deliberate, each bite a study in pleasure as he indulges in the simple pleasure of the moment.

A soft breeze rustles through the trees, lifting strands of his hair and sending them dancing in the golden light. But your gaze remains fixed on his lips.

The silence and sight makes you light-headed and eager to say anything, no matter how idiotic it might be. 

“Aren't you a little old to be doing this much heavy lifting?” 

“Aren't you a little too young to be lookin’ at me like that?” 

Your shoulders rise, blood rushing to your head as you look down. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. Butterflies flutter madly within you, the wings tickling the insides of your stomach. You only swallow. “Your lips are stained from the mulberry.” 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 

He takes another one, biting down with his lips, he finds your gaze. You watch a tiny drop go down his chin. The two of you are close. So incredibly close. It’s been like this since he started working on the shop. A pull that is too hard to ignore. 

“Well,” he breaks the silence. “Better finish up before the sun sets.” 

Joel stands and your heart breaks a little. You blink from where you’re sat, staring at him, yearning for him. 

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want you trying to find your way home in the dark.” 

“You know, I could’ve come here on my own. I always do.” 

“I know. Just wanted to make sure you have someone lookin’ after you.” 

“For someone to be known as a grump, you’re quite a softie.” 

“I’m leavin’.” 

“No—!”

Your fingers close around his arm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you find yourself frozen in place, your pulse quickening as you realize just how close you are to him.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your heart race even faster. His eyes drop to your lips, lingering there for a moment before snapping back up to meet your gaze. You notice the hints of a fading smile, “You were joking,” you say slowly, letting go of him. 

“That I was, wildflower,” he doesn’t move away and neither do you. Your breath catches within your throat, the moment stretching between your two like rubber. Before you can say anything Joel’s eyes flicker to something behind you and he smiles. “I think we’re here.” 

As you turn around, your heart skips a beat. The field of flowers stretches out endlessly, a sea of color and beauty that seems to go on forever. The grass has grown taller since the last time you were here, swaying gently in the breeze and creating a soft, rhythmic rustle that fills the air.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the landscape and setting the flowers ablaze with color. Reds and yellows, blues and purples, a riot of hues that dance and swirl in the gentle breeze.

You take a step forward, the grass crunching beneath your feet as you walk further into the field. The scent of poppies and blue hyacinths fills your nostrils, sweet and intoxicating, and you can't help but close your eyes and breathe it in.

The wind sweeps across the field, sending waves of grass rippling in its wake. The sound is soothing, a gentle whisper that seems to carry you away on a tide of tranquility.

For a moment, you forget about everything else – the worries and the doubts, the uncertainties and the fears. All that matters is the beauty of this moment, the beauty of this place, and the beauty of being here with Joel. 

With a rush of emotion swirling within you, you turn to Joel, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. He's still standing close, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you lean forward and press your lips to his. At first, Joel is taken aback, his body stiffening in surprise. But then, he caves, his lips moving against yours in a slow, tender rhythm.

His hands come up to cradle your face, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. You feel his tongue on your bottom lip and open up for him eagerly, the taste of him feels like electricity shooting through you. Heat pools between your legs, Your breasts tingle with the mere thought of having his hands on them, nipples aching and hard. 

Joel breaks away briefly, then closes the distance again. Small hisses against your swollen lips over and over until neither of you can breathe. He hungers for it almost. And so do you. “Joel,” you whisper, eyes cloudy. “Please.” 

“Is that what you want, wildflower?” he drags his nose down the side of your cheek, facial hair scratching delightfully against the sensitive skin of your neck. “For me to fuck you here? Right out in the open?” his voice trembles. “Like animals?” 

“God, yes—” your insides clench. “I would want nothing more. Been thinking about you since the day I met you, your hands, your mouth, you as a whole.” 

His hands drop to your ass and he gives the tender flesh a strong squeeze, “You want me?” 

“I do.” 

You suddenly find yourself on the ground, the grass tickling your exposed legs and arms, the skirt of your dress rolled up to your waist. Joel’s weight is a welcoming comfort on top of you, another gust of warm wind blows. With a groan, he pulls down the sweetheart neckline of your dress, exposing both your breasts. While holding one, he kisses the other, drawing the stiff nipple into his mouth. He sucks harshly, your body jolting with pleasure. The soaking mess between your legs grows. 

“Joel,” you moan, back arching. “Fuck—” 

He swirls the tip of his tongue around the nipple and grazes his teeth against it. Calloused fingers play with the other. Your mind is swimming in pleasure. He brings the skirt of your dress further up and traces his lips down the fabric, when you look down, you see him between your legs, his eyes darker than normal as he stares into your soul. The tips of his fingers dance along the elastic of your panties, asking for permission. 

You breathe out a yes, barely audible, but he nods and tugs the fabric down. When he latches his mouth on to you, the world stops. His mouth feels divine. His tongue delves between your folds, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit. You shudder against him and he moans into you. The reverberations of the sound force a gasp out of you and you swear you feel him smiling. 

His fingers trace patterns along your thighs, teasing and stroking as his mouth works wonders between your legs. You're on the edge, the pleasure building up with each flick of his tongue. You reach down and bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, guiding him where you need him the most.

Joel picks up the pace, his tongue moving faster, his fingers slipping inside of you. You can feel your body starting to tighten, the coil in your stomach about to unravel. You grip onto him tighter, your hips bucking against his mouth, and with one final flick of his tongue, you come undone.

You cry out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Joel continues to lightly lick and suck, drawing out your pleasure until you're completely spent. He makes his way back up to your lips, kissing you deeply as you both catch your breath.

“That was…” you trail off, unable to find the right words for the mind-blowing experience you just had.

“Amazin’,” Joel finishes for you.

You nod, still a little breathless. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your body against his. Joel's hands roam over your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his erection against your thigh, and you know that he needs release just as much as you do.

“Been so long since I’ve tasted somethin’ this sweet,” he rasps. “Thank you.” 

You hear the blood rushing in your ears, “You’re the sweet one,” you mumble, tenderly touching the scratchy surface of his cheek. “So sweet.” 

He smiles and as he kisses the curve of your palm, shuffles above you, starting to get up. A deep frown forms between your brows. “And where are you going?” you pout, wrapping your arms around him. You feel the outline of his length as he lowers himself once more, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.

“I thought you wanted to gather some flowers.” 

“Not yet,” you murmur, eyes glazed. “At least, not before feeling you inside me.” 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a whimpering breath, grinding himself against your bare cunt. “You really know how to get a man goin’.” 

“Prove it.” 

His eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite describe. His breath stutters, then, without even looking, he unbuckles himself, never breaking eye contact. Joel’s hair ruffles with the wind, yet he doesn’t even blink. The head of his cock catches against your clit, ripping a moan from your throat. He fills you with one sloppy thrust, the length of him stretching you enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

“Joel—Oh my god—” 

“That’s it, good girl, takin’ my cock so well. Feels good?” 

Slack-jawed, you nod. He goes deeper. “Want you to feel me for weeks, wildflower. And I want you to think of me every time you come to this god—” thrust. “—damn” thrust. “—field.” 

You can only moan at his words, his hands grip your lovehandles, squeezing and pulling you closer to him every time he rocks forward. His head falls into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin, he sucks. Your body convulses, shaking against him. 

Sparks ricochet through every limb of your body as you feel the heat pooling in your core. Joel moves his hand from your lower back to cup your breast, his fingers teasing and plucking at your nipple. The pleasure ricochets through your body, making you feel like you're on fire.

“Come for me, darlin’.” Joel growls into your ear, his voice rough and primal. “Come on my cock.”

His words send you over the edge, your body shaking and convulsing beneath him as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly. The world blurs around you, all your senses consumed by the feeling of Joel's body against yours.

"Joel—" you moan, your voice lost in the wind as you reach your peak. 

He groans in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. After one final, deep thrust, he pulls out and spills over your stomach, his body shaking against yours. You both ride out the waves of pleasure until finally, you collapse against each other, panting and spent.

You lay in the flower field, a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty bodies. Joel's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your neck as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you say quietly, almost to yourself.

Joel lifts his head to look at you, his eyes softening. "Me neither, wildflower. Me neither."

As the sun begins to set, you both lay there, entwined in each other's arms. The field has become a symbol of something more than beauty. And as long as those flowers bloom, you know your love for each other will continue to grow.

A week. 

A week without hearing from him, seeing him, touching him. 

A painful week. 

It’s almost as if he never existed. As if the moment in your favorite field was nothing but your imagination. The only reason why you know it's real is because Ellie still comes by every day, and despite knowing it’s impossible, you still feel him deep inside. It only heightens whenever you have to travel back to the field to gather flowers for the shop. 

You watch as Ellie places more daisies into a vase. She’s been her usual self, joking around, telling you about all the details of her life. It’s hard not to ask her about Joel and how he’s been. 

Some nasty part of your mind whispers words of discouragement, telling you he only wanted you for your body, for your charm, and got what he wanted. Your heart clenches. It might be true. You were young after all, emotional, broken. He’d already gone through all that, killed to stay alive, for loved ones, gone through grief—why would he want to take on another’s problems as well? 

“Hey, Ellie?” 

She turns to you, eyes slightly wide due to the rasp of your voice, “Yeah boss?” 

“Can you watch the shop for a second, I have something I need to do that I forgot about.” 

You don't wait for her nod as you exit the shop. You know he’s home. He has to be. 

Luckily it doesn’t take you long to reach their house, your knock is loud and swift. You know you’ve taken him by surprise by the expression when he opens the door. His mouth is slightly ajar, his brows knit together. 

“What are you—” 

“I came to talk,” you brush past him, heading inside. Joel lingers at the door but soon after follows you inside anyway. 

He sighs, “What do you want to talk about?” 

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Us," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "I need to know what happened, Joel. Why you've been avoiding me."

Joel's jaw clenches at your words, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "I ain't good for you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "You deserve better than someone like me."

You feel a surge of anger rising within you at his words, frustration bubbling up to the surface. "That's for me to decide, Joel," you say, your voice tinged with defiance. "I'm not some fragile flower that needs to be protected. I can make my own choices, and right now, I choose you."

Joel's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You don't know what you're saying," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a mess, a broken man with too much blood on his hands. You deserve someone who can give you the world, not someone who can barely keep himself together. You’re young. You still have so much ahead of you—"

“No! That’s not what I want. I want you, you’re the only person who’s made me feel like. . . like myself. . .before. And wanted.” 

Your voice begins to shake, you see the hesitation within his body, hod his hand slightly moves forward to hold you, to touch you, but he doesn’t. 

“I can’t do this to you,” his hands slide into his pockets, he gestures to the door. “Get out.” 

The blood freezes in your veins, your eyes grow wide, your chest constricts, “What?” 

“I said to get out,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “Get out, please.” 

And you do. 

“You need to get your shit together.” 

“Language, Ellie, dammit.” 

She glares at him from across the table. It’s an early morning, earlier than he’d liked. He’s been feeling hallowed out ever since your visit. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the betrayal. He knew that he’d broken something when avoiding you, something tender and not so easily fixable. 

But what was he supposed to do? You were young, he didn’t want to trap you, didn’t want you to throw the best years of your life for an old man like him. 

Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut. His head hurts. All he can think about is you, your body, how eager it was to take him, the delectable curves he couldn’t get enough of. 

He misses your taste on his tongue. 

“She’s miserable too, you know.” 

Joel’s eye snap wide open. “Who?” 

“You know who,” she shakes her head. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but she’s definitely upset and so are you—Just fix it. Don’t be an asshole” 

He let’s out a sigh, she’s right. He needs to fix this somehow. Joel stares at Ellie, her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn't realized just how much his actions had affected not only you but also Ellie. The weight of his own guilt settles heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the mess he's made.

"Yeah," he mutters, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

He runs a hand through his hair, the tension in his muscles making every movement feel heavy and strained. He knows he needs to make things right, to somehow find a way to mend the rift he's created between you and him.

But how? How could he possibly make things right after everything that's happened?

"I'll talk to her," he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll fix it."

Ellie nods in approval, her expression softening slightly as she looks at him. "Good," she says, her tone gentle. "Because I don't want to see either of you hurting anymore."

She was right and he knew it. 

“The shop’s closed today,” Ellie says as he grabbed his jacket. “I don’t know where she is.” 

But he did. He knew exactly where you would be. The place he tasted you, the place he felt your body against him. 

Joel's heart sinks as he approaches the flower field and sees you sitting there, your shoulders hunched over as you hug your knees to your chest. He can hear your sobs from a distance, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.

For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of what to do or say. But then, with a heavy sigh, he pushes aside his doubts and makes his way towards you.

As he draws closer, he can see your whole body trembling with the force of your emotions. His heart aches at the sight, knowing that he's the cause of your pain. He kneels infront of you, gently touching your wrists.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's me, Joel."

You startle at the sound of his voice, lifting your head to look at him with tear-streaked eyes. For a moment, there's a flicker of surprise in your gaze, followed by a wave of raw emotion.

"Joel?" you choke out, your voice thick with tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you," he says, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't stand the thought of you hurtin’ like this."

"I thought... I thought you didn't care," You sniffle, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. 

Joel reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and tender. "I care more than you know," he says. "I made a mistake, a big one, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to. .  .I didn’t think I deserved someone like you."

"I missed you," you admit softly, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

Joel's heart clenches at your words, a rush of emotion flooding through him. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bury your face against his chest.

"I missed you too, wildflower," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."

He hears the smile in your voice. 

“You already do.” 

[ylangelegy]

all of the while, it was you ꩜ hyunjin x reader.

── .✦ 💌 reader uses she/her pronouns. includes: idol!hyunjin, café owner!reader, feelings realization, freeform, time skips, fluff, coffee shops & cafés, slice of life, skz ensemble.

── .✦ 🚏 i know the "i-had-no-idea-you-were-an-idol" trope is one of the oldest, most worn clichés in the book, but sometimes you have to release the corny fic into the world so it can stop haunting you 🙂↕️ the title is from landon pigg's falling in love at a coffee shop. originally posted on ao3, but then i orphaned it (lol) so here's its new home! ♡︎

── .✦ 📟 wc: 4,000+

She doesn’t admit this to Hyunjin until much later on, but when he walked into her café the first time, she had thought— as one usually does— that this ethereal boy should be a star of some sorts. A model, an actor.

Where others might have spoken up, she chose to keep it to herself. (A good choice, too. If she had said anything, Hyunjin would have never returned.)

He is shy, at first. He sits at a table far from the door and spends most of his stay doodling in his notebook.

Outside, snow begins to fall.  

Hyunjin gets on his phone to call Jeongin over. She steps out from behind the counter and lingers by the window. 

Separately, they admire the sign of the times. Hyunjin thinks of romance that can be painted. Her mind goes to warm drinks that can be sold. Briefly, the two share a glance.

They exchange no words— not a single pleasantry about the weather— but Hyunjin does offer up the smallest of smiles, which she returns. 

He goes back to his phone. She retreats to the kitchen. 

Neither of them have any idea of what was ahead. 

That day, they witness the first snow of the year together. 

Hyunjin becomes a regular. 

He’s never done that before. The most he’s been to an establishment is probably twice, thrice, before the place is overrun with fans and he has to find a new hiding spot. 

He doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. But there are some things he wants to keep to himself, and this café is one of them. He doesn’t realize how often he’s gone until, one evening, the barista at the counter says, “Your usual?” instead of waiting for him to speak.

“Yes, please,” he says. He slides over the exact payment and sits at the table he likes the most. 

Through trial and error, he figured that the café had little to no people nearing its closing time. And so he only ever stopped by in the evening, usually after practicing stages and before heading home. 

She serves him his drink, his ‘usual’, and Hyunjin blurts out something that’s not his average ‘thank you’ and ‘please’. 

“What’s your name?” he asks, because this is not the type of café where the barista has a name card on their apron. He flushes and goes on. “It’s just— I don’t think I ever got your name.” 

She laughs kindly and answers. It’s a pretty name, Hyunjin thinks to himself.

“And you?” she inquires politely. 

There’s a seed of suspicion in him, a flicker of doubt. Did she really not know him? He had been tricked before by people feigning ignorance.

But her expression is curious, and earnest, and he decides to give her the benefit of doubt. 

“Hyunjin.” 

“Hyunjin,” she repeats, as though testing the name out on her tongue. A fleeting thought passes his mind: My name sounds safe with her. 

She smiles. “It’s nice to finally know you, Hyunjin. Thanks for always coming to my café.” 

“This is yours?” he says, a little dumbstruck. He had assumed she was just an employee. 

“It is.” There’s a proud gleam in her eyes. “It’s always been my dream to own one, and here I am.”

“It’s one of my favorite places,” says Hyunjin. He’s not even exaggerating; he means it. He adores the floor-to-ceiling windows, the intricate woodwork, the potted plants in every corner.

Her smile brightens, widens. She thanks Hyunjin and is about to say more when the bell by the door chimes. “Oh, a customer. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s no problem. Go ahead.” 

She rushes over to the counter. Hyunjin sinks a bit into his seat, doing his best to avoid the newcomer’s gaze. 

That day, Hyunjin learns how a name can make a world’s difference. 

One evening, Hyunjin asks her, “What kind of music do you like?”

She looks up from bookkeeping and tongues the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. She names a handful of genres, none of which might fit the bill for Stray Kids. 

Over the past weeks, Hyunjin had gotten to know her. Her love for coffee and baked goods. Her impulsive decision to move to Korea. Her loneliness, dulled only by the steady flow of patrons visiting her shop.

There are still some weeks where he thinks it’s too good to be true. To be undiscovered this long, to meet someone who didn’t know a thing about his industry, to strike up a friendship that had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

She asks a question of her own. “Do you have any pets?”

Hyunjin brightens at the opportunity to talk about Kkami.

That day, he remembers what it’s like— to be curious, to be known.

It occurs to Hyunjin, quite suddenly, that he won’t be seeing her for a while. 

The thought only comes as his plane is taking off.

He had seen her over the weekend. She sought his honest opinion on drinks she planned to add to her menu. 

At the time, he hadn’t thought of bringing it up. What would he say, anyway? I’m going on a worldwide tour.

Miserable, he fiddles with his phone until Changbin levels him a firm look. 

“There’s in-flight Wi-Fi,” he says. “Do you want me to get the password for you?”

“Yes, please.” 

Once connected to the internet, Hyunjin searches up the café’s socials and finds its number, which is effectively her number. His heart leaps out of his chest.

He stares at the blinking cursor in the KakaoTalk chat. He had never given out his socials to her out of fear she would realize who he was, what type of life he lived. Now, he was considering using his personal number to message her.

It feels like too much. Hyunjin places his phone face down onto his lap. He wasn’t going to text her. He shouldn’t. Right?

In the next two hours, he probably checks and puts down his phone a dozen times. Fed up, Changbin eventually groans, “Just do what you have to do already!”

Hyunjin, red-faced, picks up his phone. Changbin is right. He keys in a quick message to the café’s account and hits send before he can overthink it.

Hi, this is Hyunjin. I usually come on weekday nights. I might be gone for a while; I’m heading abroad for work. I’m just letting you know, so you don’t think I hate your coffee or anything. Stay healthy and don’t work too hard. 

He exhales in relief, only to be startled by a notification mere minutes later.

Hi, Hyunjin, she responds. You’re so funny, but also right. I would have been sad if I thought I lost my favorite customer. Stay safe, okay? Send me photos of nice cafés during your travels!

Another notification pops up. It’s weird to be messaging on the shop’s account. LOL. Here’s my personal number.  

Hyunjin can feel his heart hammering underneath his chest. He’s ecstatic to have her number, sure, and an excuse to message her while he’s away, but he’s mostly flustered by a small phrase in her text. ‘My favorite customer.’

It might be something she says to everyone; Hyunjin doesn’t care. He suppresses a wide smile from a Changbin eyeing him with open curiosity. 

That day, Hyunjin remembers what it feels like to have a crush.

Hyunjin makes good on her offhanded request.

She receives numerous photos of coffee shops and bakeries across the world. Look at this catacomb concept, he says of a café in London. I thought the menu here was good, he notes with a picture from Hanoi.

I want whatever job you have, she texts back after he sends a video of a patisserie in New York. You’re always going to such cool places.

He doesn’t respond for a couple of hours. She worries, briefly, if she had said something wrong. She brushes it off as the timezone difference.

He texts as she’s trying to whip up a new batch of croissants. It’s nice, you’re right, but sometimes I wish I had a job where I could just stay in Korea, he replies. I’ve been to all these places and I think your coffee is still the best. 

She wipes the flour off her hands so she can shoot back, You’re just saying that so you can get free drink next time. 

He sends a GIF of a cartoon cat crying. I mean it, he texts. I miss you. 

She nearly drops her bowl of batter when she sees what he said. Thankfully, he follows up with, LOL, sorry, sent too soon. *I miss your lattes. 

Riiight, she types, then erases.

If you miss me, just say so, she types, then erases.

I miss you, too. 

She erases that and sends instead, LOL. I’ll be sure to perfect it by the time you come back. 

That day, she burns a batch of croissants as she tries to figure out how she feels.

The answer reveals itself to her soon enough.

She’s just about to pack up shop when she hears the front door’s bell. She begins to instinctively apologize about being closed for the night when she sees who the guest is. 

Hyunjin, with two paper bags in his hands. 

“That’s too bad,” he says dramatically. “I guess I’ll have to give these away to someone else, then.”

She laughs; he grins. He places down the bags on a table and asks, “Think you could spare a few minutes for your favorite customer?”

“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “Give me a second.”

She flips the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’, turns off online deliveries on her phone, and leaves all but one light open.

“I’m only willing to stay overtime for you,” she laughingly tells a Hyunjin who is watching her do her closing routine. “I can make you a drink, though…”

“No need.” He waves her over. “I got you some stuff.”

“You didn’t have to,” she says as she tries to peek into the bags. “When did you get back?”

“Yesterday. I went straight to my parents, though, before coming here.”

“How was all the traveling?”

“Tiring, fun. I’m glad to be home.”

She offers him a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’re back, too,” she says. In the sparse light of the café, it’s hard to tell for sure, but she thinks she sees Hyunjin blush.

He shoves one of the bags forward. “Here are some decorations for the café. They’re nothing fancy, and it’s still up to you whether you want to put them up…”

Hyunjin trails off as she brings out one decoration after the other. She’s overwhelmed. They’re all gorgeous and fitting of her café’s aesthetic.

“Hyunjin,” she says, awed. “I can’t possibly take these.”

But Hyunjin is shaking his head and already gesturing towards the other bag. “This one has a bunch of coffee packets I got from different places. I thought you might like them.” 

The thoughtfulness of it draws a disbelieving laugh out of her. “That’s it. You’re getting free drinks for a month,” she says seriously.

Hyunjin laughs, too. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh, it is very necessary. This—” She gestures at all of Hyunjin’s gifts. “Is a really nice thing for you to do. Thank you, Hyunjin. Really.”

The smile on his face makes her pulse race. 

“You’re welcome,” he says. “Anything for my favorite barista.” 

That day, she concedes: She may have romantic feelings for this particular customer. 

It takes Hyunjin a few weeks after that to work up the courage to ask her out. 

When he found out her favorite Disney movie was putting out a sequel, he knew this was a golden opportunity. So, one evening, he asks if she’s free that weekend.

She says yes, because it’s her favorite film, but also— because it’s Hyunjin.

Neither of them refer to it as a date. It goes unspoken, is undeniable in its implication. They are two friends who are obviously attracted to each other. This was supposed to be the first time they meet outside her shop.

Hyunjin chooses a small movie theater and buys the tickets in advance. He texts her the details and she says she’ll be there.

Since immigrating, most of her time has just been going back and forth to her café and her apartment. She took cabs more often than not. She avoided tourist spots and malls, and only ever went out to do groceries or buy supplies.

So, that evening, when she decides to try taking the bus, it is her first time at the stop. She sends a text to Hyunjin saying she’s on her way, looks up from her phone, and sees him. 

Except it’s not him in the flesh. It’s him, on the bus stop’s LED screen. Nearly unrecognizable. 

The Hyunjin she knows wears dark hoodies and unbranded caps. The Hyunjin on the screen is dressed from head to toe in designer. She stares, slack-jawed, as text appears. ‘Hwang Hyunjin: Our Shining Star.’

A student sitting near her claps their hands. “Oh, are you a STAY, too? Is Hyunjin your bias?” they ask. 

She clears her throat. “Yes,” she lies, and the student nods excitedly.

“My bias is Felix,” the teenager raves. “I guess we’re both danceracha fans, ha-ha!”

The student boards the next bus that comes. It’s the same bus that’s supposed to pass by the mall where she has to go, but she stays rooted in her seat.

She finds herself doing inventory on what she knows about Hyunjin. He didn’t like talking about his job, only ever mentioning it in vague terms. It involved a lot of traveling. It was tiring, he said. But fun.

Her phone dings. Hyunjin’s message reads, Getting us popcorn. What flavor do you want? 

She looks at the text, then back up at the LED screen. Could it be a twin, maybe? No, she thinks. They had the same name. 

Instead of answering his question, she replies, Who are you?

Hyunjin responds with a sticker of a whale with several question marks over its head.

What’s a ‘STAY’? Who’s Felix? What’s a ‘danceracha’? Why do you have a poster at the bus stop?, she asks in a succession of texts.

She repeats, Who are you?

In the cinema lobby, Hyunjin feels his blood run cold. He can’t breathe, suddenly. In his excitement to invite her out, he hadn’t accounted for the dozens of birthday banners around the city.

He practically bolts out of the mall. He flags down a taxi that takes him back to his apartment, where Chan, Changbin, and Jisung are starting a new Netflix series.

“Hey, Hyune. I thought you’d be back—” Chan falters, then gets to his feet. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin hadn’t realized there were tears streaming down his face until Jisung pauses their show and Changbin rushes to grab a box of tissues.

“I think I messed up,” Hyunjin says, his voice barely above a whisper.

She goes home that night and resists the urge to search him up. She wants to hear it from him, who he is, and why he had been so keen to hide it. 

Hyunjin, meanwhile, fights back sobs as he admits to his friends what had happened. How badly he had wanted to be normal, for once, and how it was now blowing up in his face.

When she falls asleep, she dreams of a darkened movie house— one bucket of popcorn, shy fingers dancing around each other’s touch.

Hyunjin tosses and turns in bed for hours. Her texts glare up at him, unanswered. Who are you, Hyunjin? 

That day, the weather forecast is dreary. The rainy season has come early.

She hardly has time to think of Hyunjin.

The rain brings in more customers. Those seeking shelter from the downpour, those in need of a warm drink.

On Monday, two boys swoop in with ridiculously oversized umbrellas.

“Your blueberry cheesecake looks good,” the smaller of them says. “Can I have a slice and an iced coffee too, please?”

“An iced coffee in this rain?” The taller sniffles dejectedly. “Jisung-ah, that’s impractical.”

Jisung glances at her for support.

“I think iced coffee can be enjoyed in any weather,” she offers. 

Jisung looks pleased. “See, Minho-hyung?”

Minho rolls his eyes but smiles slightly. “I think I’ll stick to my hot coffee. One espresso, please,” he says, and she punches in their orders.

The one named Jisung shoots several looks at her throughout their stay. Minho is mostly indifferent. (Or, rather, more discreet in stealing glances.) They leave a tip in her jar on the way out, and talk about her on the way home.

On Tuesday, a boy wearing a baseball jersey comes up to the counter.  

“Do you make all these yourself?” he asks while looking at the menu.

“I do,” she says. “I came up with most of the recipes, too.”

His eyes shine. “Can I have an iced Americano with syrup for takeout? And—” He pauses, as though deciding on whether he should continue. “Do you mind if I watch you make it?” 

She grins. She enjoyed customers like this. She invites the boy across the counter and walks him through the machinery, the procedure, the ingredients.

“Thank you so much,” he says once it’s all done, when he has his to-go cup in his hand. 

“It’s no problem. If you ever want to learn more about making coffee, my door’s always open.”

He smiles. “Thanks.” Another thoughtful pause. “I’m Seungmin, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Seungmin,” she says as she gives her own name. 

On Wednesday, three boys come in at noon.

They all don name tags over their chests.

“Binnie,” she reads out loud. The three boys balk, as though surprised. She smiles sheepishly at their reaction and points at the tags. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shock you.”

The one with the tag that says ‘Chan’ flashes her a lopsided grin. “We came from an event. Must’ve forgotten to take these off.” 

“No problem. What can I get you guys?”

‘Lix’ scans the display of pastries and asks, “How much for everything?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Pardon me?”

“We’re going to be feeding a lot of people,” Binnie explains. “Will it be an inconvenience if we take all of your food?”

“No, not at all,” she says quickly. “But it should cost around…” She does the numbers, lets them know.

Chan nods. “That’s alright. We’ll have it all for takeout, please.” 

Bewildered, she begins to pack all the food into containers and paper bags. This had never happened to her. She would have to close shop early.

“Please choose three drinks,” she tells them. “I’ll throw them in for free.”

They look surprised. “You don’t have to,” Lix says sheepishly.

“You guys bought out my stock for the day,” she says. “I’m very grateful, and I’d love to make you a drink in exchange.”

After more of her insistence, the three reluctantly pick out their beverages. She sends them off with bags full of pastries, and large coffees for each. 

On Thursday, a familiar boy chats with her about the rain.

As she’s making his order, she tries to place where she saw him. She serves him his coffee and tentatively asks, “Are you Jeongin?”

He draws back a bit and cautiously replies in the affirmative. 

“You came here once,” she’s quick to explain. “It was snowing.”

Jeongin nods. “Right. I’m surprised you remember.”

“You were with Hy—” She falters. “Your friend.” 

He looks almost amused. “Hyunjin,” he finishes, and she nods.

“Hyunjin,” she repeats through the lump in her throat. “Well, excuse me.”

“Sure.”

She ducks back over to the counter and opens her KakaoTalk. Still nothing. She considers messaging him, but decides against it. She wants answers. If Hyunjin can’t give her any, then how can their relationship progress any further?

That day, Jeongin makes a beeline for Hyunjin’s apartment.

The rain is so bad that barely any customers come.

She contemplates closing early when the bell rings, and in comes Hyunjin.

Despite his umbrella, he is drenched from head to toe. He tracks mud into her café and drips rainwater onto her floor. She stares, mouth agape, at the audacity of this man to show up after a weeks’ worth of radio silence. 

She’s about to tell him off when he blurts out, “I’m Hwang Hyunjin.”

“I’m part of a group called Stray Kids. Our fans are called ‘STAY’,” he says. “Felix is my friend, and ‘danceracha’ is the subunit we’re part of. I love dancing. It’s what gives me life.”

He goes on, “I paint. I’m trying to get into photography, too. I like cold coffee, romance films, and you.”

She starts at the sudden confession. “What?”

“I really, really like you,” he says breathlessly. “I want to keep coming to this café. I want to watch a movie with you. But— if we’re going to do that— you need to know who I am.”

“You’re a dancer,” she repeats awkwardly.

“Yes. I sing and rap, too.”

She feels dizzy. “And you like me?”

He’s suddenly nervous, can’t meet her eyes. “Yes,” he says, his voice barely audible over the downpour beyond them. “I do.”

The rain falls heavily on the roof, and it is the only sound for a few precarious moments, as the two people in the café hang in delicate balance.

She makes a choice, then and there.

“Let me get you a towel,” she says. “And what coffee do you want? Your usual?”

He smiles so wide that the storm outside becomes nearly irrelevant. “Yes, please.”

That day, they sit at his favorite table and make plans.

When she finally, properly meets all of the boys, she reels backwards in abject shock.

Hyunjin places a hand on the small of her back to steady her. The seven boys laugh at her reaction, though not unkindly.

“For the record, we hadn’t planned it,” Jeongin says. He passes her a drink.

Felix— whose tag had said ‘Lix’, then— helps take her coat. “I really liked your scones! Maybe one day we could bake together,” he says cheerfully. 

“Yes, of course,” she stutters. 

“Hey, Felix.” Hyunjin wags a finger in his friend’s face. It’s not threatening at all. “That’s my girlfriend!” 

“I just wanted scones,” Felix says defensively, and more good-natured laughter ripples through the room. 

The attention shifts away from the new couple as the boys begin to lay out food onto the table for Changbin’s birthday celebration. 

Jisung notices her dumbstruck expression and gives her a reassuring smile. “Are you surprised?” he asks.

“A little.” She grins back at Jisung. “You’re the one who likes cheesecake.” 

He laughs at the comment. “And your cheesecake is one of the best! I’m glad you brought it today.” 

Hyunjin interrupts their conversation to steer her towards the kitchen. 

He juts his lower lip out in a pout. “I don’t think bringing you here was a good idea,” he says, half-serious. “I’m worried they’re all madly in love with you.” 

The absurdity of it makes her giggle. “You’re insane.” She stands on her tiptoes and presses a cheek on to her boyfriend’s cheek. “I love you, though.” 

“Damn right,” Hyunjin says. He tries to steal another kiss but she laughs, ducks away. 

“We have to go back to your friends,” she says pointedly as Hyunjin wraps his arms around her waist. 

“Five more minutes,” he whines, and she can’t help herself. She smiles.

“Five more minutes.” 

That day, they are happy. They are known. And it is more than enough.

[writerastray]

Recreate

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Disclaimer:

⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share my work.

⚠︎ My work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

-> Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/f!Reader

-> Word count: 4.2k

-> Rating: 18+→ Mature/Explicit

->Genre/Tropes: Romance, Mutual Pining, Romantic/Sexual Tension, One-shot, Fluff, Fun, (a sprinkle of angst), Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Childhood Friends to Lovers.)

-> Warning tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Heartbreak, Writer's Block/Creative Struggles, Alcohol Consumption, Use of fake dagger? Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

-> Synopsis: Hyunjin, a successful author, can’t seem to write a decent romance scene anymore. When you, his childhood friend, visit him for the weekend and discover his creative block, you propose a bold solution: recreating the scenes together. The only catch? Hyunjin insists that you be his partner.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

The coffee shop was about to close.

The streets were a bit busy, as it was almost Christmas time. Most of the stores were filled with people rushing to buy last-minute gifts.

The cold wind carried the scent of witch hazel from the flower shop nearby, mixed with the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts and cinnamon from street vendors. Beneath the glow of streetlights, the snow sparkled like scattered diamonds, and laughter echoed as couples and families hurried by, their breath visible in the frosty air.

Your feet didn’t move as you saw Hyunjin at the counter, smiling at a young lady as he completed her payment. It hadn’t been long—just a year and a half, in fact—but it felt like years since you had last seen him. He reminded you so much of when he was younger: playful eyes, still flirty, and that sweet smile that never failed to make your stomach flip.

After countless copies of his books were sold, he still lived above the coffee shop. You remembered when he asked you to help him move there. You still had that bittersweet taste in your mouth after leaving Hyunjin by himself and returning to the countryside alone.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your bag and crossed the street. The bell above the door chimed as you entered, and warmth immediately wrapped around you. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee blended with the buttery scent of croissants and the sweet spice of cinnamon rolls. Your stomach growled in response.

You walked to the counter, and your gaze met Hyunjin’s.

His eyes widened briefly before a slow smile tugged at his lips. Surprise melted into something sharper, a piercing stare that almost stole your breath away.

Tilting his head, he asked, “Why is there a witch in my coffee shop?”

You smiled back. “If you don’t want to be cursed,” you replied, leaning on the counter, “I’d suggest making me something to eat.”

“So demanding,” he said, shaking his head. “Give me five minutes.” He disappeared into the kitchen. His voice echoed from inside, and you couldn't help but smile at his loud giggle.

Looking around, you noticed an empty table in the corner near a wall full of quotes. One caught your eye: “I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” — Alice in Wonderland. It used to be Hyunjin's favorite as a child.

Hyunjin returned five minutes later, carrying a plate of food.

“Here you go, my dear witch.”

He sat across from you, his gaze fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing he’d seen in years. His black hair was slightly tousled, and it had grown since you last saw him, curling at the ends. His white shirt was rumpled, and yet he looked just as princely as the first time you met him as a child.

“What? Missed me that much?” you teased.

His brow arched slightly before he asked, “How are you doing, Y/N?” in that soft voice of his.

“To be honest, I’m doing well. Life has been kind to me.”

It had been five years since you moved to the countryside to live on your own. It was your dream since childhood, when you lived with your grandma during the summers; and even though all your friends were in the city for college, you chose to stay.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said. “And your grandma?”

“She’s on a cruise with my mom,” you replied, shaking your head in disbelief. “Can you imagine those two stuck together on a ship?”

He laughed, and you felt your heart race at the sight. His head tilted back, eyes crinkling into crescents.

“I give it two days before they’re at each other’s throats,” you quipped.

“Two days?” he said, still chuckling. “You’re being generous. Your grandma’s probably having the time of her life annoying your mom.”

The bell above the door jingled, and a small group of students entered, their chatter filling the cozy space. Hyunjin stood, brushing off his hands, still smiling. “Eat. You’re home—head upstairs when you’re done. They’re my last customers, and I’ll close up after.”

You nodded and turned your attention to the plate in front of you. The food was every bit as delicious as you’d hoped, and Minho hadn’t been exaggerating about the Tiramisu—it was the best dessert you had ever had.

After finishing, you gathered your things and started toward the stairs, only to hear Hyunjin call out. He jogged over, pulling something from his pocket. “Keys,” he said, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he tossed them to you.

You caught them midair, raising an eyebrow. “Still trusting me with these after all these years?”

He winked before turning back to the counter. “Always.”

His apartment was a blend of a library and an art studio. Bookshelves lined the walls, overflowing with novels, sketchbooks, and scattered trinkets from his travels. Canvases rested against the corners of the room, some blank, others adorned with half-finished paintings. A faint scent of paint lingered in the air, mixing with the subtle sweetness of the winter jasmine that drifted in through the open balcony door. You chuckled. He hadn’t changed at all.

You walked to the guest room. It was simple, with just a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. You placed your bag in the corner and let yourself fall onto the bed. It was soft and smelled fresh—Hyunjin must have just put on clean sheets. You grabbed your phone and sent a message to your mom, letting her know you were at Hyunjin’s, and another in the group chat with your friends. You were here for your yearly winter reunion with your childhood friends. This year, it would be at Chan’s apartment.

The apartment door creaked open, followed by the sound of a lock clicking into place. Hyunjin’s voice carried through the quiet space. “Love?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a soft snort. His footsteps were nearly silent, but you sensed his presence before you saw him. He appeared in the doorway of the guest room, leaning casually against the frame, a bottle in hand. “Strawberry wine?”

The sweet wine slid down smoothly. It was dizzying in the best way, loosening muscles that had been tight since you’d stepped on the train to the city.

“So, the reunion,” Hyunjin started, swirling his glass of wine lazily. “Changbin’s girlfriend is coming. Nervous?”

Changbin had been your first love, and for a long time, you regretted ending things. You thought that if you’d been stronger, you might still be together. Maybe you could have fought harder, tried to make the long-distance relationship work. But you didn’t. Then time did its thing, and eventually, you moved on.

You met his gaze steadily, though the question tugged at an old scar. “He’s my best friend at the end of the day.”

This would also be the first time Hyunjin and Felix would be with the rest of the group in the same room.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said quickly. “Hard to believe, but I’ve moved on too.”

It was hard to believe. He had been a mess after his breakup. It was the worst you’d ever seen him.

You were at Chan’s apartment that evening, watching a movie on the couch, when the door slammed open. Hyunjin stumbled in, his face red, tears streaming down his cheeks. His chest heaved as though he couldn’t catch his breath, one hand clutching the fabric of his shirt over his heart.

“It hurts,” he choked out. That was all he could manage before his knees gave out, and Chan rushed to catch him.

You’d only seen him like this once before, years ago, because of his parents. He clung to Chan like he was the only thing keeping him steady, reduced to sobs that wracked his entire body; his fingers digging into his friend’s shirt as he gasped for air between cries.

For days, he stayed in bed, barely speaking. He’d stare blankly at the ceiling or curl into himself, clutching a pillow as though it could shield him from the pain. It took weeks before he could even crack a small smile, and months before that smile felt genuine again.

“So, what’s your new book about this time?” you asked, wanting to talk about something else.

He groaned. “Nothing.”

You frowned. Hyunjin’s mind was never without a story. “What happened this time?”

He smiled faintly. “If I tell you, will you solve the problem?”

“No,” you said.

He eyed you. “Maybe.”

His eyebrow arched. “Probably,” you gave up.

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re just like when we were kids, trying to solve all the problems in the world.”

“Don’t change the subject,” you said.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and licked his lips before meeting your gaze. “I know the story. It’s just... some scenes don’t feel natural. I think I don’t know how to write romance anymore.” Then, tilting his head with a smirk, he added, “Do you have a spell to fix it?”

You threw a cushion at his head as his laughter filled the night.

The next morning was a sunny Saturday. You stayed in bed for at least an hour before finally getting up. You hadn’t fallen asleep until 1 a.m., trying to come up with a solution to Hyunjin’s problem. You couldn’t help it; you loved solving them.

Eventually, an idea came to you.

Hyunjin was in the kitchen, wearing a white shirt so large it slipped off his collarbones, holding an apple in one hand.

“Isn’t it too early for you to bother me?” he mumbled.

You smiled at his annoyed tone. He had always been like that when he woke up at your grandma’s house after sleepovers.

“I thought about what you said last night,” you said, pouring coffee into a yellow mug and sitting across from him at the table. “About your writing.”

His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “Haven’t I told you not to bother with this?”

“Actually, no, you didn’t. Besides, when have I ever listened to you?”

He closed his eyes, his mouth opening and closing as if the words were hard to form. Then he rolled his eyes and said, “Speak.”

You sipped your coffee before continuing, “What if you tried recreating a scene? You know, live it out—get into the character’s head.”

He stilled mid-bite, his expression skeptical. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard a lot of writers do that. Whether it’s fight scenes or dance scenes, some even take classes to understand them better.”

“Tonight, you’re going back home,” he deadpanned.

You pressed on. “It can work. At least you should try it!”

Hyunjin was silent for a while before finishing his apple and taking a gulp of his coffee. He leaned back in his chair. “And I suppose the person I’d recreate it with would be you. Is that your way of telling me you’re interested in me?”

You looked away, embarrassed. “Of course not!” The warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your calm tone. “And it doesn’t need to be me. We can find someone you’re more comfortable with.”

He got up and came closer to you. His hands were in his pockets, but you felt caged by his stare. He looked up and put a hand to his lips, tilting his head slightly, until his whole body stopped.

His eyes met yours.

“It’s not you that’s the problem.”

“What is it then? You? It’s not me; the problem is you.” You sighed. “If your books are as cliché as you—”

“My books are good.”

“And if you want to write another one, you need to work on your field research.”

“Is that what you call making out with me?”

“It is now.”

He opened his mouth, then sank his teeth into his lower lip. For a moment, you couldn’t stop staring. When you realized you were mirroring his action, you looked into his eyes. He seemed to be searching for something, but then you saw his shoulders relax, and his eyes closed.

Hyunjin sighed dramatically, crossing the room to grab a notebook. “Fine. Let’s try it.”

“Wait—‘we’?” you asked, taken aback.

He turned, a sly grin spreading across his face. “You’re the one who suggested it, love. Field research, remember?”

Hyunjin leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. The faint glow of his laptop screen illuminated his concentrated expression. Next to him, you watched the rays of sunlight slip through the drawn curtains, while absently turned a fake dagger between your fingers—a prop he had picked up at one of his book signings. 

“So, they can’t be together, even if they have feelings for each other, because he’s immortal, and she has to die tomorrow for him to claim the throne and start a war?” you asked.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the screen.

“Got it.” But the truth was, you didn’t. Your hands were clammy, your heart pounding so loudly you wondered if he could hear it.

The way he avoided your eyes didn’t help. You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to stay steady. “If this makes you uncomfortable, we can find someone else—” 

“There’s no one else,” he answered, his tone firm. “And I’m not uncomfortable.”

You studied his face, looking for any hint of hesitation. “Are you sure?”

He nodded and finally met your gaze. His stare sets you ablaze. We’ll only pretend. Nothing more, you remind yourself. 

You licked your lips before asking with a small smile, “Not even nervous?”

He arched an eyebrow. His hand brushed your waist, and you saw the shift in his eyes—intense and almost hypnotic.

“I don’t think I’m the only one who’s nervous,” he said. His smirk deepened, and, in one swift motion, he pulled you closer. “Whenever you’re ready, little witch,” he teased.

With slightly trembling hands, you grabbed the dagger and placed it against his throat.

“You think I won’t do it?” you said, reciting the line from his book, though your voice wavered.

"You don’t have the courage," he said, his voice low and taunting.

"Of course I have," you lied, gripping the dagger tighter.

His breath hitched, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before snapping back to your eyes.

"So, do it," he whispered.

You don’t answer. Instead, you lean into him, your lips brushing his in a kiss that starts soft but deepens almost instantly.

 It took you to somewhere far from reality. Was that really happening? Were you really making out with your childhood friend for the sake of a book? 

His hand slides to the back of your neck and you tilt your head, pressing closer. He makes a low sound in his throat that sends a thrill through you.

When you finally broke apart, you were breathless, your lips swollen and your heart racing.  

Hyunjin’s gaze is heavy-lidded, staring at you, his pupils blown wide, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

“I—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat.

Hyunjin’s lips twitched, his eyes darkening in amusement. “What’s wrong? Afraid to take the next step?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “No,” you shot back, though your voice wavered. 

You hadn’t expected kissing him to feel so… right.  Like finally finding the missing piece of a puzzle.

Hyunjin’s eyes searched for yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the way it lingered, testing you, daring you.

“Then prove it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you again, but he stopped short. His gaze flicked between your eyes and lips. “What would they do next?” 

You swallowed hard, caught between the roles you were meant to play and the reality of what you felt. “They wouldn’t stop.” 

Hyunjin’s lips curved into a smirk, “No,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t think they would.”

He leaned forward, capturing your lips again, and this time, there was no hesitation.

Hyunjin’s hand slides from your neck to your waist, pulling you into him until you're straddling his lap. The laptop, once forgotten, slides, together with the dagger, to the floor with a soft thud. 

Your breath hitches as his lips leave yours, trailing a hot, open-mouthed path along your jaw, neck, and the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groans, the sound reverberating against your skin.

“You’re so…” Hyunjin’s voice falters, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, his words almost too much to say. “Irresistible.”

You feel his lingering smirk as his hands roam lower, gripping your hips and holding you in place as you rock against him.

“Hyunjin,” you breathe, your voice breaking on his name. You try to remind yourself that every kiss is just pretend. You are only recreating a scene.

He lifts his head, his dark eyes searching yours, his expression raw and vulnerable. “Say my name like you mean it, love. You know you want to,” he says, his thumb brushing your lips.

Your lips part, and you lean forward, kissing him again. Your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, tugging it upward until he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside. You pause at the sight of him—his skin smooth and warm, taut over lean muscle, the sunlight spilling through the curtains painting him in golden hues.

You reach for him, your fingers brushing the curve of his jaw and the dip of his collarbone; he shivers at your touch. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

“Am I?” His brows lift, the corners of his lips tilting into a mischievous grin. “If I remember correctly, you once called me a frog.”

You laugh as Hyunjin’s hands trace the curve of your waist. His lips meet yours, tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss as he explores you slowly, savoring every moment. 

His fingers curl under the hem of your shirt, and he says against your lips, “Is this okay?” His voice is thick and unsteady for just a moment, making your heart coil inside you.

“Yes,” you whisper, trembling with anticipation. “Please.”

He bites his lips, eyes darkening; and then he’s pulling your shirt up, over your head, revealing your bare skin to the soft glow of the sunlight.

Hyunjin freezes for a moment, his gaze roaming over you like you’re... something precious. You need to remind yourself that it’s not real, that both of you are just pretending—for the sake of the book.

Hyunjin’s plump lips capture yours messily. "I dreamed about this," he says between kisses.

He leans down, his lips brushing the curve of your collarbone, then lower, to the swell of your breast. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

You arch into his touch, your body instinctively seeking more, and he takes the hint, his mouth closing over your nipple. He sucks softly, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him there as he switches to the other, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak before nipping it lightly with his teeth.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, your hips bucking against him.

He groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he moves, pinning you against the couch. His hips grind against yours, the hard press of him sparking a heat that blooms low in your belly.

He grips your waist before sliding your pants down, taking your underwear with them, leaving you bare beneath him.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at you—his gaze consumed by desire, his lips parted—erases any hesitation. 

He kisses his way down your body, his hands following the path of his mouth, brushing over your hips, your thighs, until he’s settled between your legs.  

His lips trail over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his breath warm against you as he moves closer, his hands gently spreading you. “You want me, hm?” His voice drops to a teasing whisper. “Tell me, love, what exactly do you need?”  

You moan, almost begging. “Stop messing with me.”  

He chuckles and finally leans in. Hyunjin’s tongue traces a path along your slick folds. Your body jolts at the sensation, back arching as a strangled moan escapes your lips.  

His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue circles, flicks, and plays with your clit. You can’t hold back the sounds spilling from your lips, your hands holding his curls tight. 

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, voice high and breathless.  

He looks up at you, lips glistening, gaze burning with desire, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “If you keep doing that, love, I might not be able to stop.”  

Your hips buck against him, body chasing the building pleasure as he slips a finger inside, then another, curling them in a way that makes you see stars. He pumps them slowly at first, matching the rhythm of his tongue, then faster as your breaths come in short, sharp gasps.  

“Hyunjin, I’m—”  

You shatter, body tightening around his fingers as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cry out, holding him against you as he guides you through your climax, his movements slowing but never stopping.

When you finally calm, your chest rising and falling with each breath, he traces his kisses back up your body, his lips lingering on your skin as though he can’t get enough of you. The firm length of his cock presses against your thigh, sending another rush of arousal through you.

His eyes search for yours, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “We don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to,” he says, his voice soft, careful.  

“I do,” you say, reaching for him, your hands finding the waistband of his pants. “I want this,” you add, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest.  

Hyunjin’s breath catches as he helps you push his pants and boxers down. You swallowed, taking him in—hard, heavy, and glistening with arousal. “I’ve never been more sure.”  

For a moment, he freezes, his eyes locked on yours, and you realize what you’ve just said. You silently hope he thinks it’s the character speaking and not the hypothesis that you might be way more into him than you thought.

His forehead drops to yours as he pushes into you, slow and steady, filling you inch by inch until you feel impossibly full. Your body stretches around him, and you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.  

“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice a broken plea, “my goddess.”  

You can’t speak, can only nod as he begins to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm. His thrusts grow deeper as he leans down to capture your lips again. The kiss is fierce, almost desperate, his tongue sliding against yours before his lips suck, lick, and bite yours repeatedly.  

Your legs wrap around his waist; the friction between you sparking waves of pleasure. He moans into your mouth, his hands sliding under you to tilt your hips, fucking you harder.  

“Hyunjin,” you whimper. 

Your hands roam over his back, nails scraping lightly against his skin, and you feel him shudder above you. You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, each movement sending shockwaves through you. The pressure coils low in your belly as your body tightens around him. “Just like that,” you said.

Hyunjin’s hand slips between you, his thumb finding your sensitive clit. He circles it with just the right amount of pressure, matching the rhythm of his hips. Your vision blurs as you tumble over the edge.  

“I can feel you,” he moans, his voice nearly a whimper. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”  

Your only response is a gasp, your head tilting back as you surrender to the pleasure. His lips trail down your throat, sucking and biting gently, leaving marks you know will linger.  

He moans, his rhythm faltering as your release triggers his own. His body tenses, a shudder running through him as he buries himself deep, his cum spilling into you. Hyunjin’s face nestled in your neck as he says your name and comes apart in your arms.

Both of you lay tangled together, your breaths mingling, your bodies slick with sweat. Hyunjin lifted his head slowly, brushing damp strands of hair from your face as he looked down at you. His thumb traced the curve of your lips, his gaze soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name.  

“You’re incredible,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.  

“So are you,” you whispered, your hands sliding up to cup his face. You kissed him softly, languidly, savoring the moment.  

When he finally pulled away, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as your breaths evened out. “I think I’ll have no trouble writing now,” he said, a small, sheepish smile tugging at his lips.  

You laughed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “I’d say we got into character pretty well.”  

Hyunjin chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over your skin as he lay next to you. “You know, I think I have a few other scenes I could work on…” His words trailed off as you suddenly pushed him off the couch.  

“And be late for Chan's party? Never.” You teased, raising an eyebrow.  

“What a witch,” he laughed, his eyes warm with affection as he got up and went to the bathroom.  

You watched him walk away, trying to ignore how your heart raced. For now, you pretended it was just a fleeting feeling, hoping—really hoping—that there would be more scenes to recreate.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕

Copyright © 2025 by Writerastray.

[xhoess]

Dangerous Desires part 1

Nicholas chaves x reader

PART 2 HERE

Summary:In "Dangerous Desires," you are a private investigator hired to find missing Hollywood star Nicholas Chavez, only to discover he’s hiding from a dangerous criminal organization. As you delve deeper into his secret life as an undercover agent, a powerful attraction ignites between you. Together, you confront betrayal, navigate high-stakes missions, and fight for survival, ultimately forging a bond that transcends danger and chaos.

Wc part one: 10.6 K

Warnings: killing, sex, stalking, unprotected, semi public sex, angst

The rain pounds against the window, the steady rhythm a distant echo in your office as you stare at the file on your desk. The name leaps off the page in bold black ink: Nicholas Alexander Chavez. You’ve seen it before, attached to glamorous headlines, interviews, and red carpets. The rising star of Hollywood. Handsome, charming, with a smile that could melt hearts and a presence that demanded attention. But that’s not why you’re looking at his file now.

No, this is different. He’s gone off the grid. Vanished without a trace from a world where visibility is everything. And now, someone—a very wealthy someone—wants him found.

You lean back in your chair, the leather creaking under the weight of your thoughts. The client had been as secretive as they come, hiring you through intermediaries, leaving no name or personal contact. All they’d provided was a briefcase of cash and the insistence that Nicholas Chavez be found discreetly. No police, no press, and certainly no publicity. You specialize in missing persons cases, and you’ve had your share of tricky assignments, but something about this one feels different. It’s not just the money—though the payment alone could keep your agency afloat for a year—it’s the way Nicholas’s disappearance has been cloaked in shadows.

You’ve been in this business long enough to know when someone is running from something. The real question is, what was Nicholas running from? Or worse, what was he hiding from?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the soft chime of your phone. A message flashes across the screen. It’s a lead, one of the few you’ve managed to gather in the last few days of digging into Nicholas’s last known whereabouts. You thumb through the message quickly, your eyes catching on the words East End Hotel. Not exactly the kind of place a Hollywood actor would be seen—more like the kind of place you’d go to disappear.

Without hesitation, you grab your jacket and head out into the storm, the streets slick with rain. The city pulses with life around you, but you’re already focused, your mind running through possibilities, mapping out what you’ll do if you find him. What happens next depends on the man you find. The rain falls harder as you make your way through the back streets, the neon signs reflecting in puddles beneath your feet.

The East End Hotel looms ahead, its faded sign flickering against the wet night sky. The place reeks of neglect—peeling paint, cracked windows, and the kind of clientele that would rather not be noticed. You slip inside, immediately hit with the smell of cigarette smoke and mildew. A bored clerk barely glances up from behind the counter as you head toward the elevator, your senses on high alert. You’ve done this before—many times—and you’ve learned how to move unnoticed, to slip through the cracks just like the people you’re chasing.

The elevator rattles as it ascends, each floor passing with a creak and groan. Room 304. That’s where your lead pointed you. Third floor. Your heart rate picks up slightly, anticipation mixing with a familiar surge of adrenaline. You can’t help but wonder what state you’ll find Nicholas in. The golden boy of Hollywood hiding out in a place like this—it doesn’t add up.

The hallway is dimly lit, long shadows creeping along the walls as you approach the door. Room 304. You pause for a moment, listening for any sound from the other side, but it’s silent. Too silent.

You knock, the sound dull against the hollow wood. No answer. You knock again, harder this time. Still nothing.

Without hesitating, you try the doorknob. It’s locked, of course, but the kind of lock that a little persistence can work around. A few seconds later, the door clicks open, and you step inside, the faint smell of stale air greeting you.

The room is dark, save for the muted glow of the streetlights filtering through the rain-streaked window. You move quietly, scanning the small, dingy space. Clothes are strewn across the chair, a duffel bag half-packed by the bed. Whoever was here wasn’t planning on staying long.

You step further into the room, your eyes adjusting to the shadows when suddenly, a figure emerges from the corner. Before you can react, a hand grips your arm, twisting it behind your back and slamming you against the wall.

“Who the hell are you?” a low voice growls into your ear, rough and dangerous.

Your breath catches in your throat, not because of the pain, but because of who’s holding you.

Nicholas Chavez.

You’ve seen his face a hundred times in photos, on the screen, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality of him. Up close, he’s taller than you imagined, his presence overwhelming in the tight space. His grip is strong, bordering on brutal, and his scent—something dark and masculine—fills your senses.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” you manage to say, keeping your voice calm despite the sharp edge of adrenaline coursing through you. “I was hired to find you.”

“By who?” he demands, but you can tell he already knows the answer. There’s tension in his body, something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your heartbeat accelerating under his unrelenting grip. “Anonymous client. They want you found, and they’re paying a lot of money to make sure it happens.”

His jaw tightens, and for a brief moment, his eyes flicker with something—fear? Anger? It’s hard to tell, but whatever it is, it’s deep. Nicholas releases your arm, stepping back, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you. The intensity in his gaze is almost palpable, like he’s trying to decide whether to trust you or get rid of you. For a moment, you can’t tell which way it’s going to go.

“You need to leave,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shoot back, straightening despite the lingering ache in your arm. “Not until you tell me why you’re hiding in this place and why someone’s paying top dollar to find you.”

Nicholas’s eyes narrow, and for a second, you wonder if he’s going to throw you out. But then something shifts. His expression softens—just a fraction—and the tension between you sharpens in a way you didn’t expect. His eyes, dark and brooding, flicker over you, and you can feel the crackling energy between you.

“I’m not hiding,” he says, stepping closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “I’m trying to survive.”

There’s a pause, the air between you thick with unspoken questions. He’s close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you a live wire, humming with something unspoken.

“You should go,” Nicholas murmurs, his gaze lingering on your face. “Before it’s too late.”

But as you stand there, heart racing, you know it’s already too late. You’re in too deep now, and there’s no way you’re walking away.

The rain hasn’t let up. It’s relentless, like the gnawing feeling in your gut. You know you should walk away from this case. Nicholas had warned you—stay away—but you can’t. Something about him, about this entire situation, has hooked you, and it’s too late to turn back.

You sit at your desk, staring at the notes you’ve gathered over the last few days. The crumpled paper with scribbled names and dead ends mocks you. Nicholas Chavez isn’t just missing—he’s hiding from something, something dangerous. Every instinct you’ve honed over years of tracking down missing persons tells you there’s more to this story. More than just an actor gone rogue.

You lean back in your chair, the quiet hum of the city outside barely penetrating the silence of your office. He’s out there, somewhere, slipping through the cracks, but no one can hide forever. You pull out your phone, your fingers hesitating over the screen. You’ve spent hours going over every lead, every hint of where Nicholas might turn up next, but nothing solid has come through yet.

Except for the faint trace of something that feels like a trap.

You push the thought aside, dial the number of one of your informants, and after a few short exchanges, you get something—an address, this time on the other side of town. It’s risky. You’ve already crossed paths with Nicholas, and you doubt he’ll be pleased to see you digging into his business again, but that’s not enough to stop you.

You grab your jacket and leave the office behind, stepping out into the wet, pulsing city once more. The rain slicks the streets, the occasional burst of light from passing cars reflecting off puddles as you make your way toward your destination. It’s late—too late to be roaming these parts of town alone—but danger has always been an old friend of yours.

By the time you reach the address, the place is exactly what you’d expected—another seedy, low-end corner of the city, where people go to disappear. A bar, tucked into a narrow street, almost invisible unless you know it’s there. You can feel the weight of eyes on you as you approach, the kind of place where newcomers stand out, and where asking the wrong questions might get you hurt—or worse.

You step inside, the stench of stale beer and smoke wrapping around you like a blanket. The interior is dimly lit, shadowy figures huddled in dark corners nursing their drinks. You make your way to the bar, your eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Nicholas. Nothing. You’ve learned to trust your instincts, and right now, they’re screaming that something isn’t right.

Then you feel it—someone watching you. You turn slowly, scanning the room again, but no one stands out. Yet the hairs on the back of your neck rise, a prickle of awareness flooding your senses.

“Looking for someone?” a voice asks, low and dripping with suspicion.

You glance at the bartender, a middle-aged man with a weathered face and eyes that have seen too much. He wipes down the counter lazily, his gaze never leaving you.

“I’m just here for a drink,” you say, playing it cool. You’re not here to cause trouble—not yet, anyway.

The bartender raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push it. You order something light, just to blend in, but your focus is elsewhere, your eyes darting from one shadow to the next. And then you see him.

Nicholas.

He’s not seated in the crowd but lingering near the back, half-hidden in the shadows. His eyes lock onto yours, a flicker of recognition crossing his face before his expression hardens. You can feel the tension crackling between you even from across the room. He stands there, tall and imposing, his presence as magnetic as it is dangerous. For a split second, you think he’s going to turn around and leave, but instead, he starts walking toward you, his movements slow, deliberate.

Your pulse quickens. You weren’t expecting to find him this easily—or this soon.

Nicholas reaches you, his gaze piercing as he leans in close enough for you to catch the scent of rain and something darker, more primal, clinging to him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, his voice a quiet growl.

“Looking for answers,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “You can’t disappear without a trace and expect no one to come looking.”

“I told you to drop the case,” he says, his jaw tight. “This isn’t a game.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” you shoot back, heart pounding in your chest. There’s something about him, the way he looks at you—part frustration, part something else—that makes it hard to think clearly.

Nicholas leans in even closer, his breath hot against your skin, and you suddenly feel trapped between the bar and his looming figure. “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he warns, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “This isn’t some missing person case you can wrap up neatly. People are going to get hurt. You could get hurt.”

Despite the warning, the heat between you spikes, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. You can feel his intensity—his anger, yes, but something else too. There’s a spark of attraction, a pull that’s impossible to ignore, and it’s enough to leave you momentarily breathless.

“I can handle myself,” you say, but your voice is softer now, your bravado slipping under the weight of his gaze. Nicholas’s eyes flick down to your lips, just for a fraction of a second, and the air between you thickens with something neither of you can name.

For a moment, you think he might kiss you. His hand brushes against your arm, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. The closeness, the sheer heat of him, is almost unbearable. But then, as quickly as it began, he pulls back, breaking the moment. You catch your breath, trying to steady the rush of emotions that came so suddenly.

“You need to leave,” Nicholas says again, but this time, there’s less venom in his voice, as if he’s not entirely sure whether he wants you to go or stay. His eyes linger on you a beat too long before he turns and walks away, disappearing into the shadows as if he was never there at all.

You stand there, heart still racing, the taste of that almost-kiss still on your lips. Nicholas is dangerous, that much is clear. But the danger isn’t enough to keep you away. If anything, it only draws you in deeper. And now, with each passing second, you’re more intrigued than ever.

Hours later, you’re back in your apartment, pacing, replaying the encounter over and over. The way he looked at you. The way you felt, pinned against the bar, caught between distrust and desire. You can’t shake the feeling that Nicholas is more than just a missing person. There’s something else going on—something bigger, darker, and much more dangerous than you initially thought.

A soft knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. You freeze. It’s late. Too late for visitors. Your heart jumps into your throat as you approach the door cautiously. You don’t have to guess who it is.

When you open it, Nicholas stands there, rain dripping from his hair, his expression unreadable.

“I warned you to stay away,” he says quietly, but there’s no threat in his voice now—just exhaustion. “I meant it.”

You don’t move, don’t say a word, as he steps closer, the space between you charged with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. For a moment, you think he’s going to leave again, but instead, he does the one thing you didn’t expect.

He reaches for you, pulling you against him in one swift motion, pinning you to the wall just like before, but this time, there’s no mistaking the desire burning between you. His breath is warm on your skin, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. The tension is unbearable, a tightrope strung between passion and control.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, Nicholas pulls back, leaving you breathless, wanting more, and more confused than ever.

“Stay away,” he says one last time, his voice low, almost pleading. Then he’s gone, leaving you standing there, heart pounding in the silence, knowing full well you’re in too deep to turn back now.

And the chase isn’t over. It’s only just begun.

It’s late—far too late for you to still be working, but you can’t stop. Nicholas has burrowed under your skin, an unsolved puzzle, pulling you deeper into a world you weren’t ready for. The usual thrill of a case has transformed into something sharper, more personal. Every lead you chase only tightens the knot in your chest, the sense that something terrible is looming just out of reach.

You sit at your desk, a dim lamp casting a weak glow over your scattered notes. Every piece of the puzzle feels disconnected, as if the truth is buried beneath layers of deceit you haven’t yet peeled away. Nicholas’s warnings replay in your head—Stay away—but how can you? There’s something about him that doesn’t fit with the Hollywood star persona. The charm, the danger, the secrets—they’ve drawn you in like moth to flame.

Your phone buzzes, cutting through the silence. You glance at the screen, an anonymous number flashing. Your gut twists in warning, but you answer anyway.

“There’s someone you should see,” a gruff voice on the other end says without preamble. “Nicholas isn’t the only one hiding.”

Before you can respond, the line goes dead, leaving a heavy sense of dread in its wake. Whoever that was, they know you’re looking for Nicholas. And more troubling—they know where to find you.

A flicker of fear sparks in your chest, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the burning need to see this through. You gather your things and head out into the night, the cool air biting at your skin. You should be more careful. You should probably stop digging into Nicholas’s life altogether. But curiosity—and something much stronger—drives you onward.

The address from the mysterious call leads you to a warehouse on the city’s outskirts, a place that looks abandoned, forgotten. But you know better. Abandoned buildings like this are where secrets hide. You step out of your car, pulling your jacket tight around you as you approach the entrance. The air feels heavy, thick with anticipation.

As you enter, the dim light inside reveals a few figures moving in the shadows. Instinctively, your hand moves to the small knife tucked in your coat—just in case. You’ve been in situations like this before, where danger isn’t just a possibility; it’s a guarantee.

Suddenly, you catch movement to your right. A figure darts past one of the broken windows—a man, tall and lean, but definitely not Nicholas. You follow, slipping deeper into the warehouse. Your pulse quickens as you realize you’re not alone in tailing him.

You crouch behind a stack of crates, watching as the man exchanges something with another figure—money, perhaps, or information. You can’t quite make out the details, but whatever it is, it’s important. Your gut tells you it has something to do with Nicholas. You edge closer, trying to catch a clearer glimpse when—

BAM!

The sound of gunfire rips through the air, sharp and deafening. You drop to the ground as instinct kicks in, adrenaline surging through your veins. Shouts echo around the warehouse, followed by the screech of tires outside. Whoever fired those shots isn’t here to negotiate.

Before you can react, more shots ring out. You press yourself against the cold concrete, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. You’re caught in the middle of something you don’t fully understand. This isn’t just about finding Nicholas anymore—this is something far more dangerous.

Suddenly, you hear rapid footsteps approaching from behind. You whirl around, your knife ready in your hand, but you’re not fast enough. Strong hands grab you, pulling you upright and slamming you into the nearest wall. Your heart races as you catch a glimpse of your attacker’s face—one of the men from earlier. His eyes are wild with fury.

“Who the hell are you?” he growls, his breath hot on your face.

You don’t have time to answer before another gunshot rings out, this one close enough that you feel the vibration through the wall. The man jerks, his grip on you loosening as his eyes widen in shock. Blood seeps through his shirt, and he crumples to the ground in front of you.

Standing where the man had been is Nicholas.

Your heart lurches as he steps toward you, his expression dark and unreadable. He’s holding a gun, still aimed at where the man fell, his posture rigid with tension. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the sounds of distant shouting and footsteps echoing in the background.

“Are you okay?” Nicholas asks, his voice rough and low, the concern in it barely masked by the sharp edge of adrenaline.

You nod, still breathless from the close call. “What the hell is going on, Nicholas?”

His eyes flash with something unreadable, and instead of answering, he grabs your arm and pulls you toward the far exit. “There’s no time. We have to get out of here.”

You resist, yanking your arm back. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s happening!”

Nicholas glares at you, his jaw clenched tight. For a moment, you think he might actually walk away and leave you to fend for yourself. But then, his shoulders sag just a little, and he looks at you with something like regret in his eyes.

“There are people after me. Dangerous people. You’re caught in the middle of something bigger than you realize.” His voice is low, intense. “Now, come with me, or you won’t get out of here alive.”

You hesitate, your mind racing. You should be furious with him, should demand more answers. But the urgency in his voice and the way his eyes flick to the shadows behind you tells you that now isn’t the time for questions. There’s real danger here, and it’s closing in fast.

Without another word, you let him lead you out through the back, dodging the shadows that seem to creep closer with every step. Once outside, Nicholas pulls you into a narrow alley behind the building, pressing you both against the wall, listening for any signs of pursuit.

The night feels impossibly still compared to the chaos you’ve just escaped, and the tension between you is suffocating. You’re pressed against him, both of you breathing heavily, the cold night air doing nothing to cool the heat radiating from him.

“Why did you come back?” he asks suddenly, his voice raw with something you can’t quite place. “I warned you to stay away.”

“I couldn’t,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I needed to know the truth.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. And then, before you can process it, he’s kissing you.

The kiss is hard, desperate, fueled by adrenaline and fear. It’s as if both of you are trying to erase the danger, the chaos, by clinging to this one moment of connection. His hands cup your face, his lips urgent against yours, and you feel yourself melting into him, into the heat and intensity of it all.

When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless, your heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the danger you’ve just escaped.

“This is going to get worse,” Nicholas says quietly, his forehead resting against yours. “You need to leave this alone. For your own safety.”

But as you look into his eyes, you know that leaving is no longer an option. Not now. Not after this.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly, and you mean it. Whatever this is—this danger, this desire—you’re in it now, and there’s no turning back.

Nicholas nods, as if he expected nothing less from you. His grip tightens on your hand as he pulls you deeper into the night, into the shadows, and into a world far more dangerous than you ever could have imagined.

The only question now is whether you’ll survive it.

The morning after the warehouse incident dawns with a strange sense of calm, but you know it’s deceptive. The sun filters through your blinds, casting faint patterns on the floor, but the warmth it offers does nothing to ease the cold knot in your stomach. You’re on edge, constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next explosion of danger.

It’s been two days since Nicholas pulled you out of that warehouse, his hands still warm on your skin, his kiss lingering like an unresolved question. Two days since you promised yourself that you wouldn’t walk away from this, no matter how deep it pulled you into his world.

But you need answers. Not just about him, but about everything that’s happening. You’ve followed enough leads to know that this isn’t just about a missing person anymore. Nicholas is hiding something, and not just from the world—he’s hiding it from you.

You head into your office, determined to sift through the clues you’ve gathered. You spread out the files, notes, photos, all of it in disarray but slowly coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. Every piece points to something bigger. There’s more than just a criminal network involved; it feels like you’ve stepped into a web of international proportions. And Nicholas? He’s at the center.

The knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, and before you can respond, it swings open. Nicholas strides in, his presence filling the room instantly. He’s dressed differently today, no longer the laid-back Hollywood star or the dangerous figure from the warehouse. There’s something official about him, almost… professional.

“Do you ever knock?” you ask, standing up from your desk, your tone sharper than you intend.

Nicholas stops in front of your desk, his eyes scanning the mess of papers, his jaw clenched. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” You cross your arms, trying to keep your guard up even though his very presence makes it difficult. “About how you keep dragging me into your world without giving me any answers?”

He glances at the files on your desk, his expression darkening. “You’ve been digging.”

“I’m a private investigator. It’s kind of what I do.”

Nicholas lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair as if he’s trying to figure out how to begin. His gaze meets yours, and there’s something raw, almost vulnerable, in his eyes. It’s a look that makes your stomach tighten with anticipation.

“I owe you an explanation,” he admits, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

You blink, surprised. This is the first time he’s willingly offered anything close to the truth. Your defenses lower just slightly, and you gesture for him to sit.

He doesn’t. Instead, he leans against your desk, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes never leaving yours.

“The reason I disappeared,” he begins, “the reason I’ve been in hiding—it’s not just about me. It’s about something much bigger. I’m not just an actor. I’m… working undercover.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, the words hitting you like a punch. “Undercover? As in law enforcement?”

“Not quite.” Nicholas’s jaw tightens. “I’ve been working with an international task force. We’re taking down an organization that’s been running an extensive criminal network for years. Drugs, weapons, human trafficking—it’s all connected. I’ve been posing as someone they could use, someone with enough money and fame to help them move product under the radar.”

You stare at him, trying to process what he’s saying. It makes sense, all of it. The danger, the secrecy, the way he’s been acting. But it doesn’t make it any easier to digest.

“So, all of this—the disappearances, the shady dealings, everything I’ve been following—it’s part of your cover?” you ask, your voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Nicholas nods. “Yes. And now that you’re involved, you’re in danger too.”

A heavy silence falls between you, and the weight of what he’s saying sinks in. You’re no longer just chasing a missing person case. You’re entangled in something far more dangerous—an international criminal ring, and Nicholas is right in the middle of it.

“How long have you been doing this?” you ask, your mind racing.

“Almost two years,” he replies, his voice grim. “At first, it was just gathering intel, getting close to the people running the operation. But it’s grown bigger, more dangerous. The deeper I go, the more risk there is.”

You sit down, trying to wrap your mind around everything. Two years. He’s been living a lie for two years, pretending to be someone he’s not. The Hollywood persona, the actor’s life—it was all just a cover for his real mission.

“And now you’ve dragged me into it,” you say, a mix of anger and resignation in your tone.

Nicholas pushes away from the desk, stepping closer to you, his expression serious. “I didn’t want to involve you. I told you to stay away, but you wouldn’t. You kept digging, and now you’re in as deep as I am.”

You meet his gaze, your heart pounding. There’s no turning back now, no way to untangle yourself from this mess. And a part of you, the part that’s always been drawn to danger, knows that you don’t want to.

“So, what happens now?” you ask, your voice steadier than you feel.

Nicholas takes a deep breath, his eyes softening just a fraction. “Now, we work together. You’ve already gathered valuable information. You can help me finish this.”

A surge of adrenaline pulses through you at the thought. The idea of working alongside Nicholas, of diving even deeper into this dangerous world, sends a thrill down your spine. But there’s something else, too. Something that makes your heart beat faster whenever he’s near.

“I’m not just going to be your pawn,” you warn, standing up and facing him.

He smirks, but there’s a seriousness beneath it. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Before you can respond, his phone buzzes, breaking the tension. Nicholas glances at the screen, his expression hardening. “We’ve got a problem,” he says, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “There’s been a development. We need to move fast.”

Your pulse quickens as he explains that a crucial meeting with one of the criminal leaders is happening tonight—a meeting that could blow his entire operation wide open. You’ll have to go undercover with him, posing as his partner to get inside.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Nicholas asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You meet his gaze head-on, adrenaline surging through your veins. “I’ve come this far. I’m not backing out now.”

He nods, a look of approval crossing his face. “Then we’re in this together.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur. You spend hours preparing, going over the details of the plan, getting into character. Nicholas coaches you on what to say, how to act, but it feels like a performance you’ve been preparing for your entire life. You’re ready.

As the sun sets, you and Nicholas head out, the tension between you palpable. Every glance, every touch feels charged with the weight of what’s to come. The mission is dangerous, yes, but there’s something else simmering beneath the surface—something neither of you can ignore.

The plan is simple: attend the meeting, gather as much intel as possible, and get out before anyone realizes who you really are. But as you stand beside Nicholas, dressed in a sleek, professional outfit that screams wealth and power, you can’t help but feel the electricity in the air. The danger, the thrill—it’s intoxicating.

When Nicholas slips his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you enter the meeting, your pulse quickens. You can’t tell if it’s because of the mission or because of the heat radiating from him.

The room is filled with high-profile criminals, their eyes assessing you both as you make your entrance. Nicholas plays his part flawlessly, his charm and confidence drawing people in, but his grip on you tightens ever so slightly—a silent reminder that the danger is very real.

As the meeting progresses, tension mounts. You exchange subtle glances with Nicholas, every look charged with unspoken meaning. But the mission takes a dangerous turn when one of the men—a high-ranking figure in the criminal network—fixes his gaze on you.

“Who’s this?” he asks, suspicion lacing his voice.

Nicholas doesn’t miss a beat, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulls you closer. “This is my partner,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with authority. “She’s been helping me with some of our more… delicate matters.”

The man’s eyes narrow, but Nicholas’s confident tone seems to placate him, for now. The rest of the night passes in a blur of tense conversations, subtle glances, and mounting danger. You can feel the eyes on you, the suspicion lurking beneath every smile.

By the time the meeting ends, you’re on edge, your heart pounding with adrenaline. But you and Nicholas managed to gather the intel you needed, and for now, you’re in the clear.

As you step outside into the cool night air, Nicholas finally relaxes, his grip on you loosening. But instead of stepping away, he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You did good tonight.”

The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you forget the danger. All you can feel is him—his body pressed against yours, his hand resting on your hip.

“We’re not out

“We’re not out of this yet,” Nicholas finishes, his voice a low whisper that hums against your skin.

You tilt your head slightly, your pulse hammering in your ears as you force yourself to focus. The mission isn’t over, not by a long shot. But it’s hard to think when his proximity stirs emotions you’ve been trying to keep buried. You step back slightly, creating just enough distance to breathe, but his hand lingers on your hip, as if reluctant to let go.

“I did what I had to,” you say, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at the intensity in his gaze. “Now, tell me the rest. You didn’t drag me into this just to play dress-up.”

Nicholas sighs, running a hand through his hair. He looks away for a moment, scanning the darkened street, as if making sure you’re alone. Finally, he turns back to you, his expression conflicted.

“I didn’t want to bring you in at all,” he admits, his voice rough. “But I had no choice. After what happened at the warehouse, you were in too deep. They know about you now.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. You knew, on some level, that stepping into Nicholas’s world meant putting yourself in danger, but hearing him confirm it solidifies the gravity of the situation. You’re a target now, just like him.

“Who’s ‘they’?” you ask, your voice more controlled than you feel.

“The Syndicate,” Nicholas says grimly. “The organization I’ve been working to take down. They run everything—from trafficking to black-market arms deals—and they have eyes everywhere.”

The Syndicate. You’ve heard whispers of the name before, but now, hearing it directly from Nicholas, the weight of it feels even more ominous.“And you’re undercover, trying to take them down from the inside,” you say, piecing the puzzle together. “That’s why you’ve been on the run.”

He nods. “I was getting too close. My cover started to slip, and they began to suspect me. So I disappeared for a while, laying low. But now things are escalating, and they’re looking for any loose ends to tie up. That includes you.”

The realization of how close you’ve come to the edge settles in. You’ve tangled yourself in something far more dangerous than you anticipated, but instead of fear, you feel an unexpected surge of determination. If the Syndicate thinks they can use you as leverage, they’ve underestimated you.

“So, what’s the plan?” you ask, your voice steady. “How do we take them down?”

Nicholas steps closer again, his dark eyes searching yours. “We work together. I need your help. You’ve already uncovered more than you realize, and with what we learned tonight, we’re closer than ever to getting inside their inner circle.”

Your chest tightens with the weight of his words. He’s putting his trust in you—something he’s clearly not accustomed to doing. But there’s more to this than just the mission. The tension between you, the undeniable pull—it’s growing stronger, more dangerous. And right now, you’re not sure which is the greater risk: the Syndicate or Nicholas himself.

“Alright,” you say, your voice firm. “But I’m not just some bystander. If we’re doing this, I’m all in.”

Nicholas’s eyes flash with something unreadable, but he nods, his expression softening slightly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You both linger there for a moment, the quiet street around you contrasting the storm of emotions churning inside. There’s so much left unsaid between you, so much unresolved tension. But right now, the mission takes precedence. The Syndicate is closing in, and you can’t afford any distractions—no matter how intoxicating they might be.

“We need to go,” Nicholas finally says, breaking the silence. “It’s not safe here.”

You nod, falling into step beside him as you head toward his car. The ride back to your safe house is filled with an uncomfortable silence, both of you lost in thought. The night’s events have raised more questions than answers, but one thing is clear: you’re in this now, and there’s no turning back.

When you finally arrive at the safe house, you both slip inside, the tension still thick in the air. Nicholas locks the door behind you, his movements tense, alert. You watch him for a moment, studying the lines of his face, the way his jaw tightens as if he’s constantly on edge.

“You’re different now,” you say, your voice softer than you intend. “Not just because of tonight, but… this whole thing. It’s changed you.”

Nicholas turns to face you, his expression guarded. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then tell me,” you push, stepping closer. “You owe me that much.”

He exhales sharply, his eyes darkening as he regards you. “I didn’t ask for this life,” he says, his voice low, almost bitter. “I was supposed to just be an actor. That’s all I wanted—to live a normal life, to stay out of all this. But then I got pulled in, and once you’re in, there’s no getting out.”

The vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard. You’ve seen him in control, always keeping his emotions in check, but now there’s a rawness to him that makes your heart ache. You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, and the contact sparks something between you.

“Nicholas…” you start, but the words die in your throat.

He looks at you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch. And before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you’re closing the distance between you.

The kiss is explosive, like a dam breaking, releasing all the pent-up emotions and tension that have been simmering between you for weeks. Nicholas’s hands are on you instantly, pulling you closer, his lips rough, desperate against yours. It’s like he’s been holding back for too long, and now that he’s let go, there’s no stopping it.

Your back hits the wall as Nicholas presses against you, his body hot and hard against yours. The room feels like it’s spinning, the heat between you building with every frantic touch, every gasp of breath. It’s overwhelming, consuming, but you can’t stop—neither of you can.

For a brief moment, the danger, the mission, the Syndicate—all of it fades away. There’s only the two of you, lost in the whirlwind of desire and need.

When you finally pull apart, breathless and flushed, you stare at each other, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. Nicholas steps back, his chest heaving, but his eyes are still locked on yours.

“We can’t… we can’t let this get in the way,” he says, his voice rough, though it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

You nod, though you’re not sure you believe it either. The pull between you is too strong, too undeniable. But he’s right—there’s too much at stake to let your emotions cloud your judgment.

“I know,” you say, your voice steady, even though your heart is still racing.

Nicholas runs a hand through his hair, his gaze softening as he watches you. “We’ll figure this out. But for now… we need to focus on the mission.”

You nod again, forcing yourself to push aside the emotions swirling inside you. The Syndicate is still out there, and every second you waste is a second closer to them finding you.

“Right,” you say, your voice firm. “Let’s finish this.”

And as you stand there, the weight of the mission hanging between you, you realize that no matter what happens next—whether you take down the Syndicate or not—nothing will ever be the same between you and Nicholas.

The next few days are a whirlwind of preparation and anticipation. With Nicholas by your side, the world feels different—charged with an energy that both excites and terrifies you. The thrill of the mission looms large in your mind, but so does the tantalizing reality of your deepening connection with him.

You spend hours poring over files, piecing together information about the Syndicate and its operations. Nicholas is meticulous, guiding you through the layers of deception he’s encountered. Every moment spent working together intensifies the bond between you, and despite the underlying tension, you find yourself lost in his focus and determination.

Finally, the night of the high-profile event arrives. As you stand in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on your outfit, you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The black dress clings to your curves, the neckline daring yet elegant. It’s the perfect outfit to play the role of a wealthy socialite. You glance at the clock, your heart racing as you anticipate Nicholas’s arrival.

When he steps through the door, time seems to stand still. He’s dressed in a tailored suit, the fabric hugging his frame perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean waist. The moment you lay eyes on him, your breath catches. There’s an air of confidence about him that’s magnetic, and as he moves closer, you can feel the heat radiating between you.

“Wow,” he breathes, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively. “You look stunning.”

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a thrill down your spine. But his expression shifts as he steps closer, his gaze turning serious. “Remember, this is just a performance. We have to stay in character at all times. The moment anyone suspects us, everything falls apart.”

“I know,” you say, swallowing the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “But we’re also pretending to be a couple, right? That adds a layer of complexity.”

Nicholas’s lips curl into a smirk. “Complexity is one way to put it. Just stick close to me, and let’s keep our story straight.”

You nod, trying to suppress the rush of excitement mingled with anxiety. This isn’t just a game anymore; it’s a high-stakes dance on the edge of danger.

As you both make your way to the event, the ambiance shifts from the quiet intimacy of the safe house to the bustling energy of the gala. The venue is an opulent hotel ballroom, adorned with crystal chandeliers and elegant décor. The air is thick with the laughter of the elite, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the soft strains of a live band playing in the background.

“Stay close,” Nicholas murmurs as he takes your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you instinctively lean into him, feeling safe and exhilarated.

The crowd swirls around you, and as you navigate through the sea of well-dressed guests, Nicholas introduces you to various attendees, spinning tales of your wealth and influence. He’s in his element, effortlessly charming everyone with his charisma, and you can’t help but admire the way he commands the room.

But beneath the polished surface, you can sense the tension in the air. You keep your eyes peeled for any signs of danger, scanning the room for familiar faces associated with the Syndicate. Each time Nicholas leans in to whisper something sultry in your ear, the heat between you ignites, making it harder to maintain your focus.

“Let’s find somewhere a little quieter,” he suggests, a playful glint in his eye. You nod, your heart racing as he leads you away from the crowd, toward a secluded balcony that overlooks the city lights.

The moment you step outside, the cool breeze brushes against your skin, providing a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you. Nicholas leans against the railing, looking out over the cityscape, and you take a moment to admire him—his profile strong and defined against the night sky.

“You okay?” he asks, glancing at you sideways. “You look a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine,” you assure him, even though your heart is racing for a different reason. “It’s just… a lot to take in.”

Nicholas steps closer, his body radiating warmth as he closes the distance between you. “Just remember to breathe. We’ve got this.”

As he speaks, the chemistry between you crackles like electricity. The way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat, and despite the looming threat, the desire swirling in the air is palpable. You can feel it—their shared breaths, the closeness drawing you in, and the way his gaze flickers down to your lips.

Before you can think, you lean in, seeking the warmth of his body, and he meets you halfway, their lips colliding in a heated kiss. It’s hungry and desperate, an unspoken promise of everything you both want but can’t yet fully embrace. The world around you fades, leaving only the two of you suspended in this moment of passion and chaos.

When you finally pull away, your breath mingles with his, both of you panting as you struggle to regain your composure. “We should… get back,” you murmur, though part of you longs to stay in this intimate bubble, away from the prying eyes and dangers of the night.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though his eyes are still dark with desire. “But I think we’re going to need to play this part a little more convincingly.”

Your heart races at the implications of his words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we need to give them a show,” he says, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “If we’re going to convince the Syndicate that we’re a couple, we need to act like one.”

His words hang in the air between you, charged with potential. You know what he’s suggesting, and a thrill of excitement runs through you. This is more than just a mission now; it’s a game where the stakes are life and death, but it’s also a dance that tests the boundaries of your connection.

“Alright, show me how it’s done,” you say, your voice steady as you take a step closer.

Nicholas smirks, that devil-may-care charm igniting a spark of courage within you. “Follow my lead.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you head back inside. The energy shifts as you rejoin the crowd, the vibrant chatter surrounding you. You fall into step beside him, the charade deepening as you lean into him, playing the part of the enamored socialite.

Nicholas effortlessly navigates through conversations, keeping up appearances while subtly gathering information from the people around you. You watch him work, fascinated by how he switches from charming to serious in an instant, his eyes sharp and alert beneath his playful demeanor.

As the night unfolds, you find yourself drawn into the role more than you expected. When Nicholas leans in, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you realize you’re not just pretending anymore. The way he touches you, the way he looks at you—it all feels too real, too intoxicating.

At one point, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “The main players will be here soon. We need to find out who they are.”

“Right,” you nod, your heart racing as the adrenaline of the mission heightens your senses.

Just as he pulls back, a figure catches your eye across the room—a man clad in a sharply tailored suit, his presence commanding. There’s something about him that sets your instincts on high alert. You don’t recognize him, but Nicholas’s body stiffens slightly beside you.

“Do you see him?” he murmurs, eyes narrowing as he observes the man. “That’s Victor Reyes. He’s one of the top operatives in the Syndicate. If we can get close to him, it might lead us right to the heart of their operation.”

You glance back at Nicholas, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. “What do we do?”

Nicholas’s eyes flicker with determination. “We get close to him, but we can’t blow our cover. Let’s keep our act together while we gather intel.”

You nod, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you both weave your way through the crowd, each step bringing you closer to the danger you seek. As you approach Victor, you feel the tension in the air rise, a palpable anticipation buzzing between you and Nicholas.

“Act natural,” Nicholas whispers as you reach the group surrounding Victor. “And remember, you’re with me.”

You plaster on a smile, feeling the weight of the moment as you engage with the other guests, keeping the conversation flowing as you subtly edge closer to Victor. Your heart races in your chest, both from the thrill of the encounter and the sheer proximity to the man who could unravel everything.

As the night continues, you and Nicholas play your parts perfectly, dancing between flirting and feigning disinterest in the dangerous conversations that swirl around you. With each passing moment, the connection between you grows deeper, electrifying the air around you.

But just as you feel yourself getting lost in the moment, Victor’s gaze flickers toward you, and a glimmer of recognition sparks in his eyes. You freeze, heart pounding as you try to maintain your composure. You can feel Nicholas’s presence beside you, an unspoken reassurance as you both play your parts flawlessly.

“Ah, you must be the new socialite everyone’s been talking about,” Victor says, his voice smooth and laced with curiosity. “Tell me, what’s your secret?”

Your pulse

Your pulse quickens as Victor’s eyes narrow, scrutinizing you with a blend of intrigue and challenge. You can feel Nicholas tense beside you, his protective energy radiating off him, but you maintain your composure, forcing a smile as you meet Victor’s gaze.

“Just the usual secrets of success,” you reply lightly, your voice steady despite the intensity of the moment. “A little charm, a little finesse. You know how it is in this world.”

Victor chuckles softly, leaning closer as if to catch every word. “Indeed, charm is essential. But I find it’s also about knowing the right people.” His gaze drifts over to Nicholas, a knowing look passing between them. “And who you associate with.”

Nicholas steps in smoothly, his arm tightening around your waist as he tilts his head slightly in Victor's direction. “This is my partner, after all. She’s got a knack for finding the most interesting circles to mix in.”

“Interesting circles, indeed.” Victor’s gaze shifts back to you, a flicker of curiosity igniting in his eyes. “I’d like to know more about you. What brings you to this particular gathering?”

You catch the glint of danger in his question, the way he’s trying to gauge your motives. Instinctively, you lean a little closer to Nicholas, allowing the chemistry between you to speak volumes. “Just looking to expand my horizons and connect with influential people,” you say, your tone light, but your mind races as you consider your next words.

“Always a good idea,” Victor replies, his expression unreadable. “And with your partner here, you couldn’t have made a better choice.”

“Absolutely,” you say, your smile unwavering. “Nicholas has been quite the guide in this world.”

Nicholas smirks, his confidence radiating as he interjects, “And we make quite the team, don’t we?” He leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Stick with me; I’ll keep you safe.”

The intimacy of his words sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight to keep your composure. You glance around the room, noting how the other guests watch the interaction unfold, some with mild interest, others with palpable curiosity.

“What do you do, Nicholas?” Victor asks, shifting his focus, his tone deceptively casual. “You seem quite well-connected.”

Nicholas chuckles, a lighthearted sound that belies the tension in the air. “Let’s just say I dabble in a few businesses. A little of this, a little of that. It’s all very exciting.” He leans forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But nothing nearly as thrilling as our friend here.”

“Thrilling, indeed,” Victor replies, his smile tight, but his interest piqued. “I have a keen eye for talent. Perhaps we could discuss opportunities that might interest both of you.”

The suggestion hangs between you, and a warning bell rings in your head. You know Nicholas’s real agenda here, and while the prospect of working with someone like Victor could be advantageous, it also carries significant risks.

“Opportunities are always welcome,” you say smoothly, masking the tension building within you. “But I’m sure Nicholas has a busy schedule. Isn’t that right?”

Nicholas’s gaze meets yours, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m always open to exploring new ventures, but tonight’s more about enjoying the festivities, wouldn’t you agree?”

Victor studies both of you, his expression inscrutable. “Of course. But let’s not let this opportunity pass us by.” He gestures toward the grand room filled with guests. “Perhaps you’d like to join me for a drink later? I know a few spots that might be more… enlightening.”

A chill runs down your spine. The invitation feels loaded, as if he’s testing the waters to see how deep your involvement runs. You exchange a glance with Nicholas, who nods subtly, his demeanor calm but alert.

“We’ll see,” Nicholas says, his tone noncommittal but friendly. “For now, let’s enjoy the night.” He expertly steers the conversation away from Victor, guiding you back toward the crowd.

As you walk away, your heart races, the weight of Victor’s gaze lingering on your back. “That was close,” you murmur, leaning closer to Nicholas, your pulse pounding in your ears. “He’s definitely onto us.”

Nicholas nods, his expression serious now. “Yeah, we have to tread carefully. He’s smart and observant, which means we need to keep our wits about us.”

“What’s our next move?” you ask, glancing back to ensure Victor hasn’t followed.

“For now, we gather more intel,” Nicholas replies, his gaze scanning the room. “Let’s keep mingling and see if we can spot any other players. If we can get a sense of who’s who in this crowd, we can better navigate our next steps.”

As the night wears on, you move through the gathering, chatting with other guests while keeping a watchful eye on Victor. Nicholas remains by your side, his presence both comforting and electrifying, a constant reminder of the stakes involved.

After an hour, you find yourselves near the bar, exchanging pleasantries with a group of wealthy patrons. You laugh and flirt, letting the act come naturally as you try to gather information. The tension between you and Nicholas is palpable, though, and every time he leans in to whisper a witty remark, it sends your heart racing.

“Do you think we can trust anyone here?” you ask quietly, scanning the crowd. “Everyone seems to have their own agenda.”

Nicholas nods, his expression thoughtful. “It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, but the risk is worth it if we can gather enough information. Just stay alert. We need to keep our cover intact.”

As you sip your drink, you notice a commotion near the entrance. A group of men in dark suits has arrived, their demeanor sharp and commanding. They move through the crowd with an air of authority, immediately drawing attention.

“There they are,” Nicholas murmurs, his focus shifting. “The ones we need to watch. The Syndicate’s higher-ups.”

You turn to look, and your breath catches as you spot a familiar face among them—a man with a scar running down his cheek, a haunting reminder of the dangers you’ve been trying to evade. You didn’t expect to see him here, and the realization sends a shiver down your spine.

“Is that—” you start to say, but Nicholas interrupts.

“Keep calm,” he warns, his voice low. “If they see us panicking, it could blow our cover.”

You nod, forcing yourself to breathe steadily as you watch the group. Nicholas stands close, his arm around your waist, the connection grounding you in the face of potential danger. But as the men circulate through the crowd, their presence feels like a storm brewing.

Suddenly, the tension becomes palpable, and without warning, the lights flicker, dimming for a moment before returning to their full brightness. You can feel Nicholas tense beside you, his eyes narrowing as he scans the room.

“What was that?” you whisper, looking up at him.

“Just stay close to me,” he replies, his voice low but firm. “It could be a distraction. They might be planning something.”

As the music swells and the guests resume their conversations, you can’t shake the feeling of unease settling in your stomach. The air feels charged, and you sense the impending danger lurking just beneath the surface.

Nicholas tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you in closer. “We need to move,” he says, his tone urgent but controlled. “Let’s find a way to gather more information about those men without drawing attention to ourselves.”

With every ounce of your instincts telling you to run, you follow his lead, navigating through the crowd with purpose. You can feel your heart racing, the thrill of danger intensifying as you blend in with the other guests, slipping further into the shadows of the evening.

As you weave through the throng of people, Nicholas stays close, the heat of his body radiating against yours. You exchange glances, a silent understanding passing between you—this isn’t just a mission anymore; it’s a fight for survival, and you’re in it together.

Finally, you spot a quieter corner of the ballroom, away from the main flow of guests. You duck into the alcove, the darkness enveloping you as you press against the wall, breathing heavily from the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Is this a good spot?” you ask, glancing up at Nicholas, who remains focused, his eyes scanning the area.

“Let’s listen in,” he replies, nodding toward a nearby group of men, one of whom is speaking animatedly about recent dealings with the Syndicate. You strain to hear, the tension thickening as you grasp for any useful information.

The conversation is tense, filled with veiled threats and promises of loyalty. The men are discussing operations, their words dripping with malice, and you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine as you realize just how deep the web of corruption runs.

Nicholas glances at you, his expression serious. “We need to be careful. If they catch us eavesdropping—”

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts. The men stop talking, their eyes narrowing as they scan the room. You can feel the tension in the air as they shift, their attention honing in on your alcove.

“Let’s go,” Nicholas hisses, grabbing your hand and pulling you deeper into the shadows. You follow his lead, heart racing as you duck into a narrow hallway, desperately hoping to escape their gaze.

But as you navigate the darkness, the sound of footsteps follows closely behind, the realization dawning that the men are

The sound of footsteps echoes through the narrow hallway, a relentless reminder that you’re not safe yet. Panic bubbles up inside you as you sprint alongside Nicholas, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You can hear the hushed voices behind you, growing closer.

“Quick, this way!” Nicholas urges, pulling you into a side corridor that leads to a series of smaller rooms. The dim light flickers overhead, casting long shadows that play tricks on your mind as you press forward.

As you run, you glance back, catching a glimpse of the men as they round the corner. Their expressions are hard and determined, the dangerous glint in their eyes sending a chill down your spine. You can’t shake the feeling that they’re on to you.

Nicholas leads you into an empty storage room, its contents stacked haphazardly against the walls. The door creaks shut behind you, and he quickly moves to block it with a nearby crate. The sound of footsteps draws nearer, and you hold your breath, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Stay quiet,” he whispers, his voice low but urgent. You nod, the gravity of the situation sinking in as you press against the cool wall, trying to calm your racing heart.

The footsteps pause just outside the door, and you can hear the men’s hushed voices, discussing your appearance and the fact that you had been near Victor. Your stomach knots as you realize how close you are to being discovered.

“They were definitely eavesdropping,” one of the men says, his voice gravelly and filled with menace. “We can’t let them get away.”

“Split up and search the area,” another replies. “They can’t have gone far. We’ll find them.”

Your breath quickens as you grip Nicholas’s arm tightly, feeling the tension radiate off him. His gaze is intense, his mind racing as he weighs their options.

After a tense moment, the footsteps recede, and Nicholas releases a quiet sigh of relief. “We need to move, now,” he murmurs, scanning the room for an exit. “If they’re searching for us, we can’t stay here.”

He leads you to a back door, and you follow closely behind, your heart racing. As he pushes it open, the door creaks, and you wince at the sound, fearing it might draw attention. But the hallway beyond is empty, the only light filtering in from a small window at the far end.

“Go!” Nicholas urges, gently pushing you forward. You step into the hallway, adrenaline flooding your system as you hurry to keep pace with him.

As you move cautiously, you hear muffled voices growing fainter in the distance. Nicholas pauses, glancing back to ensure you’re not followed. “We have to find a way out of this area,” he whispers. “Stick close to me and stay quiet.”

You nod, focusing on his words as he leads you further into the maze of hallways. The tension in the air feels electric, and you can’t shake the fear of being discovered. The stakes are higher than ever, and with every step, the danger looms closer.

Finally, you reach a stairwell leading down. “This way,” Nicholas says, his voice firm as he guides you down the steps. The silence envelops you, broken only by the sound of your footsteps and the distant chatter of the gala above.

As you descend, you can feel your heart racing. You can’t help but wonder how this night, filled with excitement and seduction, has turned into a desperate escape. The thrill of danger hangs in the air, intertwining with the electricity between you and Nicholas.

When you reach the bottom, you emerge into a dimly lit hallway that seems to lead to a staff area. The distant clinking of glasses and soft music echoes from above, a stark contrast to the tension you feel.

“Let’s find an exit,” Nicholas says, his voice low but steady. “We can regroup outside and plan our next move.”

You nod, glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings. As you move through the corridor, you catch a glimpse of a door marked “Employees Only.”

“Here,” you suggest, pointing toward the door. “This might lead us out.”

Nicholas moves toward it, pushing it open just enough to peek inside. After a brief moment, he nods and gestures for you to follow him. You step inside, the faint scent of cleaning supplies mingling with the air.

The room is small and cluttered, filled with boxes and supplies. You can hear the muffled sounds of the party echoing outside, and for a moment, you feel an overwhelming sense of isolation in this hidden corner of the world.

“Over there,” Nicholas whispers, pointing to a door at the far end of the room. “That should lead to a back entrance.”

You nod, your pulse quickening again as you move toward it, feeling the weight of the moment. As you reach for the handle, a sudden thought strikes you. “Nicholas, what if they find us? What if they—”

“Shh,” he interrupts, placing a finger against his lips to silence you. His eyes are intense, full of urgency. “We have to keep moving. Trust me.”

With that, you push the door open and step outside, the cool night air hitting you like a wave. You squint against the sudden brightness of the outdoor lights, your senses heightened as you scan your surroundings.

You find yourselves in a small alley behind the hotel, a stark contrast to the opulence of the gala. The sound of music and laughter fades behind you, leaving only the hum of the city.

“Is there a way to blend in?” you ask, glancing around nervously. “We can’t just walk out into the street.”

Nicholas nods, his expression thoughtful as he scans the alley. “There should be some staff uniforms in that supply room. If we can change, we might be able to slip past anyone looking for us.”

You nod, your heart racing with the idea of disguising yourselves. “Let’s do it.”

You move quickly back inside, rummaging through the boxes until you find a couple of staff uniforms. With a mix of urgency and adrenaline, you change as quickly as possible, slipping into the dark trousers and button-up shirts that disguise your evening attire.

Nicholas pulls his hair back into a neat ponytail, the uniform transforming him into someone entirely different. You can’t help but admire how effortlessly he pulls off the look, even in the face of danger.

“Ready?” he asks, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

You nod, straightening your own outfit. “Let’s do this.”

As you step back outside, you take a deep breath, trying to suppress the anxiety swirling within you. With Nicholas by your side, the thrill of the mission mingles with a sense of hope. You have a chance to escape, to regroup and plan your next move, but you also feel the heat of the connection that’s been building between you.

“Stick close,” Nicholas says, his tone serious as you both start to walk down the alley, blending into the shadows.

You navigate your way back to the street, the bustling energy of the city wrapping around you. The gala feels like a distant memory, a world of glamour and danger that you’ve left behind.

“Where to now?” you ask, glancing up at him, your heart racing at the thought of being out in the open again.

Nicholas’s gaze flickers around the street, his mind clearly working. “We need to find a safe place to lay low for a bit. There’s a café a few blocks away that I think we can use.”

You nod, trusting his instincts as you walk side by side, the tension of the night still crackling in the air between you. The thrill of the mission intertwines with the undeniable chemistry, and with every step, the stakes feel higher.

As you reach the café, you both duck inside, the warm ambiance contrasting with the cold reality outside. The smell of coffee fills the air, and you take a moment to catch your breath, the adrenaline of the night still pulsing through your veins.

“Let’s grab a table in the corner,” Nicholas suggests, his eyes scanning the room. “We can talk strategy without anyone overhearing.”

You nod and lead the way, settling into a small booth at the back. The café buzzes with activity, the soft murmur of conversations creating a comforting backdrop as you both take a moment to regroup.

After ordering drinks, you lean across the table, your eyes locked on Nicholas. “What now? What do we do about Victor and the Syndicate?”

Nicholas takes a deep breath, his expression serious as he considers the options. “We need to gather more intel, especially on Victor and the men he was with. They’re dangerous, and if they suspect we’re onto them, we could be in real trouble.”

“But how do we do that without raising suspicion?” you ask, your mind racing with possibilities. “They know we were close to them at the gala.”

Nicholas leans back, his gaze thoughtful. “We’ll have to play a careful game. Keep mingling, stay in touch with contacts who can provide information. And if we can get a lead on where they’re operating, we might have a chance to expose them.”You nod, feeling the weight of the task ahead. “And what about us?” You hesitate, the question hanging in the air between you. “I mean… after all of this?”

Nicholas meets your gaze, his expression softening for a moment. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “Right now, we need to focus on the mission. But… I won’t lie; this connection between us complicates things.”

Your heart races at his words, the heat of desire and uncertainty swirling within you. “It

Your heart races at his words, the heat of desire and uncertainty swirling within you. “It complicates things, but in a good way, doesn’t it?” you ask, leaning forward slightly, searching his eyes for clarity.

Nicholas hesitates, his brow furrowing as he contemplates the tension between you. “It does. But we need to keep our focus. There’s too much at stake right now.” His gaze drifts away, momentarily lost in thought. “Once we’re out of this, we can figure out what this is… whatever it is.”

The unspoken words linger heavily in the air, and a thrill runs through you at the idea of what could be once the chaos subsides. The connection you share feels electric, but with danger still lurking, you can’t afford to let your guard down.

Just then, your drinks arrive, interrupting the moment. You take a sip, the warm coffee grounding you. As you glance around the café, you notice a few familiar faces in the crowd—other guests from the gala, their expressions ranging from jovial to cautious.

“Do you recognize anyone?” Nicholas asks, noticing your gaze.

“Not sure,” you reply, straining to see more clearly. “But it looks like the party might still be going strong. We might want to be careful.”

“Right,” he says, his eyes scanning the room with renewed vigilance. “We can’t afford to be seen. Let’s finish up here and regroup. I think we should check in with some of my contacts to see if they’ve heard anything about Victor or the Syndicate.”

You nod, feeling a sense of determination settle in. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us safe,” you say, your voice steady. “I can help gather information too.”

Nicholas smiles, a hint of admiration in his gaze. “I know you can. You’re resourceful, and you’ve got skills. We’ll need that.”

As you sip your coffee, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. You glance around again, searching for any sign of danger. “Do you think they’ll come looking for us here?”

“Maybe,” he replies, frowning slightly. “But we’ve got a little time. The café is bustling, and the last thing they want is to draw attention to themselves. If we play it smart, we can slip away without a hitch.”

You finish your drink, the warmth settling in your stomach but unable to quell the tension building inside you. “What’s our exit strategy?”

Nicholas leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Once we leave here, we’ll head toward the alley. It should be clear, and then we can take a back road to avoid the main streets. I have a car parked a few blocks away.”

“Perfect,” you say, feeling a sense of relief at having a plan. “Let’s get moving then.”

After a quick check of the café to ensure the coast is clear, you both slip out the door, stepping into the cool night air. You can still hear the distant sounds of the gala, but the thrill of the chase keeps you focused on what’s ahead.

As you navigate through the back streets, the atmosphere changes from the glamour of the gala to the gritty reality of the city. The shadows stretch long against the walls, and you feel the adrenaline kicking in as you walk quickly, the fear of being discovered pushing you forward.

“Stay close,” Nicholas instructs, his voice low as he walks beside you. “If anything feels off, just follow my lead.”

“Got it,” you reply, trying to keep your pace steady. The night is filled with sounds—distant sirens, the hum of traffic, the murmur of voices—but it feels like an illusion, a reminder that danger lurks just beyond your periphery.

As you turn a corner, you spot a group of men loitering at the entrance of an alley. The uneasy feeling in your stomach tightens, and you glance up at Nicholas, who’s already assessing the situation.

“We can’t go that way,” he whispers, pulling you back slightly. “Let’s find another route.”

You nod, instinctively clutching his arm as he leads you further down the street. Just as you round another corner, a figure steps out from the shadows, blocking your path.

It’s a tall man, dressed in dark clothing, his expression unreadable. “Going somewhere?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips.

Nicholas tenses beside you, and you feel a surge of fear. “We don’t want any trouble,” he says evenly, stepping slightly in front of you as a protective gesture.

“Oh, I think you do,” the man replies, his voice dripping with menace. “You’re a long way from the party, and I’d say you’re in a bit over your heads.”

“We’re just trying to get home,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “No one wants any trouble.”

The man chuckles, but it’s devoid of humor. “Home? This isn’t your neighborhood, sweetheart. You shouldn’t be wandering around here alone.”

Nicholas shifts closer, his protective instinct kicking in. “We’re fine. Just let us pass.”

But the man steps forward, blocking your way. “I don’t think so. Not until I get a little something in return.”

Your heart races, and the realization hits you: he’s not just looking for a simple exchange. The threat in his voice is clear, and you can see the glint of danger in his eyes.

“What do you want?” Nicholas asks, his voice firm, but you can hear the tension lacing his words.

“Information,” the man replies, his eyes flicking between you and Nicholas. “I heard some interesting chatter at the gala about a certain Victor. You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

You exchange a glance with Nicholas, fear pooling in your stomach. This man has ties to the very people you’re trying to avoid. “We don’t know anything,” you say quickly, trying to maintain a façade of confidence. “Just leave us alone.”

The man’s expression darkens. “That’s too bad. I think you do know more than you’re letting on. And if you don’t want to make this difficult, I suggest you start talking.”

Nicholas takes a step closer, his body blocking you from the man’s view. “We’re not going to share anything with you. Just let us go.”

For a moment, silence hangs in the air, thick with tension. The man’s gaze sharpens as he considers your words, weighing his options.

Suddenly, you hear a commotion in the distance, the sounds of shouting and footsteps approaching. The man’s expression shifts, irritation flickering across his face. “Looks like you’ve got some company,” he says, glancing back down the street.

Without thinking, you take the opportunity. “Run!” you shout, grabbing Nicholas’s hand and bolting past the man.

The adrenaline surges through you, propelling you forward as you sprint down the alley, your heart pounding in your chest. You can hear the man shouting behind you, but you don’t dare look back.

Nicholas keeps pace beside you, his grip firm around your hand as he guides you through the maze of alleys. “This way!” he urges, leading you toward a side street that opens up into a dimly lit park.

You burst into the park, the cool night air rushing past you. The sounds of the city seem to fade as you find yourself surrounded by trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze.

“Over there!” Nicholas points to a nearby bench, and you both duck behind it, gasping for breath as you hide in the shadows.

“Do you think he followed us?” you ask, trying to catch your breath as you press your back against the cool metal of the bench.

Nicholas shakes his head, his expression serious. “Not yet, but we can’t stay here long. We need to figure out our next move.”

You nod, the gravity of the situation settling in. “What do we do now?”

He takes a deep breath, looking around the park as if searching for something. “We need to find a way to get back to the car without drawing attention. Let’s stay low and avoid the main streets.”

As you move cautiously through the park, you can feel the tension between you and Nicholas growing. The thrill of danger is intermingled with a pulse of excitement, an awareness of the connection that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

“Are you okay?” Nicholas asks, glancing back at you, his expression softening momentarily.

“I’m fine,” you reply, though you can feel your heart racing—not just from the adrenaline, but from his concern. “Just a little shaken.”

“Let’s keep moving,” he says, his voice low and steady. “We’ll find a way out of this.”

You nod, your resolve strengthening as you follow his lead. The night stretches ahead of you, filled with uncertainty, but with Nicholas by your side, you feel a flicker of hope.

As you make your way through the park, you suddenly spot a figure in the distance, standing near the edge of the trees. Your breath catches in your throat, and you grip Nicholas’s arm tighter.

“Do you see that?” you whisper, pointing toward the figure.

Nicholas squints, his expression hardening. “I see it. Stay behind me.”

As you move cautiously closer, you can make out the silhouette of a man—broad shoulders and a confident stance. The closer you get, the more familiar he looks.

“Is that…?” you start to say, recognition dawning.

“Victor,” Nicholas murmurs, his voice low. “We need to avoid him.”

But before you can respond, Victor suddenly turns, his gaze piercing through the dim light as if he senses your presence. Your heart races as he scans the area, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“We can’t let him see us,” Nicholas whispers urgently, tugging you back into the shadows of the trees. You feel the heat of his body against yours, and the sudden closeness sends a shiver of adrenaline coursing through you.

As Victor continues to search the area, you and Nicholas crouch low behind a thick bush, your breaths shallow and quiet. You can see Victor’s silhouette clearly now; he’s talking to someone on his phone, his expression tense.

“I’ll find them,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “They can’t have gotten far. They’re too curious for their own good.”

Nicholas clenches his jaw, and you can feel the tension radiating from him. “We need to stay out of sight. If he catches wind of us, it’ll be game over.”

You nod, the weight of his words pressing down on you. The stakes have never felt higher, and the danger of being discovered is palpable. You watch as Victor paces back and forth, his frustration evident.

“We can’t let them interfere with the plan,” he mutters into the phone. “I’ll send a couple of guys out to keep an eye on them. We need to control this before it gets out of hand.”

Your stomach drops at his words. They’re already planning to hunt you down, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. You glance at Nicholas, who meets your gaze with a fierce determination.

“We can’t let that happen,” he whispers. “We have to find a way to turn the tables on them.”

You nod, the idea igniting a spark of hope. “What if we gather information on them? Use it against them?”

Nicholas looks thoughtful, his eyes scanning the park for any potential routes of escape. “That’s a good idea. If we can find out where they’re meeting or what they’re planning, we might be able to expose them.”

Victor hangs up the phone, a scowl on his face. “They’ll regret crossing me,” he says under his breath before stepping further into the park, clearly looking for you.

“This is our chance,” Nicholas murmurs, his grip tightening around your hand. “We can slip away while he’s distracted.”

You nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline as you both carefully maneuver through the trees, keeping low and quiet. As you inch away from Victor’s sight, you feel the thrill of the chase and the undeniable connection between you intensifying.

Finally, you reach the edge of the park, peering around a tree to check if the coast is clear. Victor is still moving further into the shadows, the distance between you growing. “Let’s go,” Nicholas whispers, leading you toward a nearby street.

Once you’re safely across the road, you take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. The adrenaline from the encounter still buzzes in your veins, and you glance up at Nicholas, whose expression is a mix of relief and determination.

“We made it,” you say, your voice low but filled with awe.

“For now,” Nicholas replies, his tone serious as he scans the area. “But we need to keep moving. I don’t want to stick around here longer than necessary.”

You both set off down the street, your pace quickening as you make your way toward the car. The thrill of the evening has taken a turn, and now the tension between you feels electric. With every step, the danger that surrounds you only seems to amplify the connection.

As you near the car, you glance at Nicholas, your heart pounding with more than just fear. “What happens next?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turns to you, his gaze intense. “We’ll regroup and figure out our next move. But we need to keep our heads down for a while. I’ll reach out to some contacts, see if they can provide any intel on Victor and his operations.”

You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety at the thought of what lies ahead. “And what about us? What if they’re always watching?”

Nicholas pauses, searching your eyes for a moment. “Then we’ll have to be smarter. We can’t let our guard down. But I promise you, once this is over, we’ll figure things out.”

His words hang in the air, a promise tinged with uncertainty. The tension between you feels thick and unyielding, a connection that transcends the chaos around you.

Just then, you reach the car, and Nicholas opens the door for you, a small gesture that feels both protective and intimate. You slip into the passenger seat, your heart racing with anticipation.

As he starts the engine, the low rumble fills the silence, and you look at him, feeling the weight of the night’s events. “No matter what happens, I’m with you,” you say, your voice firm. “We’ll face this together.”

He meets your gaze, a fire igniting in his eyes. “Together,” he agrees, a determined look crossing his features.

As he drives away from the park, you can’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline mixed with something deeper. The night has brought you closer, forged a connection through danger and intrigue, and as you navigate the dark streets, you know that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

The city lights flicker outside the window, and as you lean back in your seat, you find comfort in the thought that this was just the beginning. The game was far from over, and with Nicholas by your side, you’re ready to play.

The drive back to your apartment is filled with an unsettling silence, the weight of the night’s events hanging heavy in the air. The rhythmic thump of your heart feels louder than the engine, and each passing streetlight casts fleeting shadows across Nicholas’s face, illuminating the tense lines of determination etched there.

“Do you think Victor knows we were there?” you ask, breaking the silence as you watch him navigate the darkened streets. “What if he contacts the Syndicate?”

Nicholas tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “I don’t know, but we can’t assume he doesn’t. We need to be smarter about this. They’ll be looking for us now.”

The reality of the situation settles over you like a fog. The danger is real, and it feels as though every moment you spend together increases the stakes. You glance at Nicholas, whose jaw is set in a firm line, eyes focused on the road ahead. His intensity both excites and unnerves you, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re both walking a razor’s edge.

Arriving at your apartment, you follow him inside, the door clicking shut behind you, muffling the noise of the outside world. You take a moment to catch your breath, still reeling from the night’s close calls. The adrenaline that had propelled you through the evening now leaves you feeling a mix of exhilaration and dread.

Nicholas moves around your living room, checking the windows and ensuring the curtains are drawn tight. “We need to lay low for a while. I’ll make some calls, and we can try to figure out our next move.”

You nod, feeling a rush of gratitude and concern. “What if they come looking for us?”

“We’ll be ready,” he says, his voice steady but firm. “But for now, I need you to trust me. I’ll keep you safe.”

His words send a ripple of warmth through you, mingled with fear. You’ve never been in a situation like this, but as you look at him, you realize that your trust in him has grown deeper than you anticipated. There’s something about his fierce determination that draws you in, making you feel a sense of security amidst the chaos.

“Can I help?” you ask, moving closer to him. “I want to do something, not just sit and wait.”

He glances at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You’re already helping just by being here. But if you’re serious, I could use your perspective. We need to figure out how much Victor knows and who he might be working with.”

You nod, determination surging through you. “Okay, let’s brainstorm. I might have some ideas.”

As you sit on the couch, Nicholas joins you, his body angled toward yours. The tension in the air shifts, morphing into something different, charged with an undercurrent of attraction that seems to grow with every passing moment.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to focus. “First, we need to think about how he found out we were at the gala. Did anyone see us together?”

Nicholas shakes his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know. But he must have had someone watching. That means we have to be careful who we trust.”

His gaze is intense, and you can feel the heat between you rising as the conversation deepens. You want to reach out, to close the distance that feels both electrifying and overwhelming.

“Do you think there’s a mole?” you ask, attempting to steer the conversation back to safer ground, though the awareness of the attraction lingers.

“Maybe. Someone close enough to us to gather information. I’ll need to make some calls to my contacts to see if they’ve heard anything,” he replies, but his eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary.

Just then, your phone buzzes on the coffee table, interrupting the charged moment. You glance down at the screen, your heart dropping as you see a message from a familiar name: Mia.

Mia: I’ve been trying to reach you. Are you okay?

The worry in her message pulls you back to reality, the reminder of your life outside this whirlwind of danger. You hesitate, feeling the pull of your normal life but knowing you can’t share the truth with her.

“I need to respond to Mia,” you say, your voice slightly strained.

Nicholas nods, his expression serious. “Be careful. Don’t share too much.”

You pick up the phone and quickly type back, trying to keep your response vague.

You: I’m fine, just busy with work. Can’t talk now. I’ll call you later.

You hit send, but the knot in your stomach remains. The betrayal of keeping secrets from your closest friend gnaws at you. You look up to see Nicholas watching you intently.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his tone softening slightly.

“I’m just… worried about Mia. She’s my best friend. I don’t want to put her in danger,” you admit, the weight of your concern spilling out.

Nicholas shifts closer, the space between you growing smaller. “I get it. But right now, your safety is what matters. If Victor is looking for us, then anyone close to you is at risk too.”

You nod, swallowing hard. The reality of the danger sinks in further. “I understand. I just feel so trapped in this situation.”

“Just remember, we’re in this together,” he reassures you, his gaze steady and fierce. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The sincerity in his words ignites a spark inside you. You want to believe him, to trust that he will keep you safe. But as you study his face, the shadows of the night reflect in his eyes, revealing the weight he carries. There’s something deeper in his gaze—something raw and vulnerable that makes your heart race.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “That means a lot to me.”

He leans in closer, the heat radiating between you palpable. “I don’t want you to worry about anything else. Just focus on us.”

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire of desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. You can feel the electric tension drawing you closer, the lines between safety and attraction blurring as you find yourself caught in his gaze.

“Us,” you repeat, the word heavy with meaning. The air thickens with anticipation as you inch closer, the urge to bridge the gap overwhelming.

Then, in a sudden rush of boldness, you reach out, fingers brushing against his hand. The contact sends sparks shooting through you, and you can’t help but lean in slightly, drawn by an invisible force.

“Do you ever think about what happens after this?” you ask, your voice shaky yet steady.

Nicholas’s breath hitches slightly, and for a moment, he looks caught off guard. “I do. But right now, we have to stay focused. We can’t let our emotions get in the way.”

His words sting, but you understand the need for caution. “You’re right. But it doesn’t change what I feel.”

He studies you for a moment before responding, “What do you feel?”

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I feel like there’s something between us. Something more than just… this.”

Nicholas leans in, his voice low. “And what do you want to do about it?”

You bite your lip, your eyes locked onto his. “I want to explore it. I want to know where this could go.”

“Are you sure about this?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He nods, closing the distance between you. “More than anything.”

His lips find yours in a soft, exploring kiss. Your hands roam his back, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, tongues meeting and dancing in a tantalizing rhythm. You moan softly, your body pressing against his.

Nicholas trails kisses down your neck, his hands exploring your curves. You arch your back, a soft gasp escaping your lips. “You taste incredible,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with desire.

He leads you to the bedroom, where the soft glow of a lamp casts shadows on the walls. You stand before him, your breath coming in quick gasps. He reaches out, his fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver under his touch, your body aching for more.

He unbuttons your shirt slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You help him, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You let out a soft moan, your head tilting back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his hands moving to unhook your bra. You step out of it, standing before him completely bare from the waist up. His eyes darken with desire, and you can feel the heat of his gaze on your skin.

You reach for his shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you unbutton it. He helps you, pulling it off and tossing it aside. Your hands run over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your touch. He groans softly, his hips pressing against you.

You can feel his erection through his pants, and it sends a jolt of excitement through you. You unbuckle his belt, your hands fumbling slightly in your eagerness. He kicks off his shoes, and you help him out of his pants and boxers.

He stands before you, naked and aroused. You take a moment to appreciate the sight of him, your eyes roaming over his body. He smiles, a slow, sexy smile that makes your heart race.

You guide him to the bed, lying down next to him. Your hands explore his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, the soft skin of his inner thighs. He groans softly, his hips moving against yours.

You reach down, wrapping your hand around his cock. It’s hard and hot in your hand, pulsing with his heartbeat. You stroke him slowly, your thumb brushing over the tip. He lets out a soft moan, his hips bucking slightly.

“You feel amazing,” he breathes, his hands roaming your body. He cups your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. You arch your back, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

He rolls you onto your back, his body covering yours. His lips find yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You can feel his cock pressing against your entrance, and you lift your hips, inviting him in.

He enters you slowly, inch by inch, his eyes locked onto yours. You let out a soft moan, your nails digging into his back. “You feel so good,” he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

He starts to move, his hips thrusting against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, your body moving in sync with his. The room fills with the soft sounds of your lovemaking, the wet smack of skin against skin, the soft moans and gasps of pleasure.

“Faster,” you whisper, your body aching for more. He complies, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. You can feel the pleasure building inside you, your body tensing with anticipation.

“Yes, right there,” you moan, your hips meeting his. He leans down, his lips capturing one of your nipples. You cry out, your body convulsing with pleasure.

He continues to thrust, his body slick with sweat. You can feel the orgasm building, your body tensing with each thrust. “I’m close,” you gasp, your nails digging into his back.

He groans, his body tensing with you. “Me too,” he whispers, his voice ragged.

You come together, your bodies shuddering with the force of your release. You cling to each other, your bodies slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in sync.

He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him. You lie there, your bodies intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal. You look into his eyes, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“That was…” you start, but the words fail you.

He smiles, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. “Incredible,” he finishes for you.

But just then, the ringing of your phone breaks the moment, and you both startle. You glance at the screen, your heart sinking as you see another incoming message, this time from an unknown number.

Unknown: We know where you are. You can’t hide forever.

Panic grips you as you look up at Nicholas, whose expression shifts from calm to alert in an instant. “What does it say?” he demands, his voice low and tense.

You swallow hard, the words echoing in your mind. “It’s from someone who knows where I am. They’re… they’re watching us.”

Nicholas’s eyes blaze with intensity, the protective instincts surging back to the surface. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Your heart races as you stand, urgency flooding your veins. “What do we do?”

“Grab your things. We’re moving,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Elite Serial Killer

Thinking about the rich hunting the poor plot of thousands of movies

Popular and inexplicably vain it’s a surprise he goes to your college at all

But because of his status and immense popularity you never quite got close to him

Only knowing about him because of gossip 

His existence doesn’t matter to you until the college plans to take everyone on a cross-country trip

That happens to be sponsored by an anonymous donor 

You somehow end up in a travel group with him and his most loyal groupies

You didn’t even know you were in the same class

But when the school asks for a payment he generously pays for all expenses

“If all it takes is a bit of pocket change to have these nerds do my homework, then I’ll pay for it!”

He scoffs in your face if you try to refuse 

having the principal tear your check in front of your face if you try to pay yourself

But you pack your bags prepared to get on the plane booked for the class only for one of the nicer groupies to stop you

“Uh, where do you think you're going?”

“To the plane?”

“Our plane is on the tarmac. We’re not getting packed in like a bunch of sardines.”

“But I already bought the ti-”

“Look nerd stop complaining before he leaves you.”

When you do get on of course it’s a shock to have an attendant nicely handle your bag 

Of course, you fidget as you watch the groupies casually sit in specific padded chairs

As though those were their designated spots 

You’re watching them so intensely you miss the grey eyes watching you

“You.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Where do you want to sit?”

“Uhm I’ll just sit over here.”

You randomly pick the spot farthest from them 

He scoffs again and snaps his fingers

“No, you won’t you’ll sit over here.”

The seat he’s pointing at is right beside him…

But a girl is already sitting there

You hesitate looking nervously at the girl who’s engrossed in her phone

Wille exasperatedly sighs before turning in his seat to kick the girl off it

“Ahh!”

Thud

It looked like it hurt

But no one reacts…at first

Before one of the groupies chimes in

“Move Piggie! It’s obvious Wille doesn’t want you here!”

The other’s laugh while ‘piggie’ slowly gets up moving her things she gives you a hard glare before moving to the row over

With Wille impatiently snapping his fingers you sit in the seat

Now being weirdly included in the conversation

Though it’s completely out of your realm of understanding they are seemingly including you

You don’t get the chance to ask  why he wanted you here but you couldn’t complain

When an attendant served you a hearty meal that happened to fit all of your likes and dislikes

You are made to hold someone’s bag or do the other’s assignments issued for the class but you can’t complain

Especially when ‘piggie’ is the one who keeps getting pushed around

Once the plane lands it’s constantly like this 

In museums, restaurants, and lectures 

The pattern continues and as expected you feel incredibly indebted to Wille

So of course you’ll look past the slightly demeaning tasks he sends you on

Or when the groupies need the opinion of a ‘commoner’ you answer

It’s never as bad as it is for ‘piggie’ 

Who ends up paying for some of the other groupies’ shopping sprees 

Or when someone deems their outfit ruined or out of style it’s ‘piggie’ who has to buy something new

You feel awful 

But you’re sure if you spoke up they’d absolutely leave you in this foreign country all alone

So you’ll try in another way

“Hey, I uh filled out an extra assignment if you’d like it?”

For once you might see them accept and start coming to you to talk

It’s nice 

To speak to someone more sympathetic to your situation

But things don’t really kick off until the last day 

And you by association are invited to the intense partying of your group who invite others from your college

There Wille demands that everyone in your group come to his vacation home where his family is 

To work off the hangovers and keep the party going he says 

He says it’ll be another week before you all head back to the college

Whether you drink or not you don’t mind the small extension on your trip 

after all, all of your expenses are paid for

So without being able to refuse you join the group  

a butler welcomes you as soon as the chauffeur drops you all off at the castle-like vacation home mansion

Unexpectedly there and looking at watching you all gawk are Wille’s family

His father, his mother, his older sister, and his younger brother

They all are just like him with long wavy hair and cattish grey eyes that seem to see all

They welcome the group but they’re honestly quite cold

You don’t mind all that much though

They’re polite enough for the first three days

But then as the end of the week approaches it just gets stranger

Not just for you but for the others as well

“H-h-hey did any of you guys notice Wille’s little brother has a lot of stuffed pets?”

“Really?”

“Well, did you see how that old man was looking at me? Creepy!”

Finally on the sixth day 

more accurately at midnight, the hunting really begins

Faced with Wille himself smiling wider than you could have ever imagined right along with his family with their own twisted faces

“You won’t believe how many social climbers cling to us like leeches! In our world. They have their protections and safeguards that stop us from bashing their brains in. But you–we could do that and so much more because no one cares about you. No one!”

It’s alarming, to say the least 

The dirt under your nails

The cries of the others

Wille continues

“But it's nice to imagine right? So we’re going to play a little game! You all get until midnight tomorrow to escape our property. If you do you get to keep your little worthless life. As a bonus, we’ll reward you an extra million for all the trouble! So, everyone ready to play?”

Screams are heard 

And a gunshot goes off

Someone else breaks down again

“Good energy, you have until sunrise.”

Like frightened deer you scatter

Part 2

[carlsangel]

CAUGHT

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you wouldn’t believe who catches you and carl.)

tags: smut, oral sex (r!receiving)

masterlist here!

You liked to believe that you and Carl were quite smart. You both were great survivors, you ended up surviving years and years of the undead constantly up your ass. You thought you could get away with basically anything, even being intimate in places you shouldn’t be. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. In fact the two of you were so blind to how sneaky you weren’t.

It’s not like you didn’t try…although it seemed like you didn’t but that’s beside the point. A lot of the time if you two ended up fucking in places you shouldn’t, you weren’t seen but there was a couple occurrences when you almost were. Your streak of times almost being embarrassed was sort of an inside joke at this point, you both found it funny.

You were both invited to a run, just so you could help and be there to collect parts. Your goal was to get to the old radio station and find everything you need to fix Alexandria’s radio so you could communicate with the other communities. Quite an easy task. The group you’d both be going with is Rosita, Eugene, and Aaron. Pretty simple, you should be perfectly fine. Eugene was only going to collect the proper parts for the radio, not to fight.

You and Carl walked up to the gates to leave hand in hand. This morning for Carl was…quite a rough one to say the least. He woke up rather needy and the two of you were running late so there was unfortunately no time for the two of you to fix his issue. He was toughing it out, however. Or was trying at least.

Once approaching the truck you’d be taking, your first observation was how large it was, even on the inside. Aaron had just brought it back a couple days ago and you hadn’t had a chance to see it yet. It was one of those kinda of trucks you couldn’t imagine affording back when cars had payments n shit.

“Alright let’s get going.” Aaron unlocked the car and everyone piled in. You got in the backseat first and to your surprise, Eugene barged his way in to sit between you and Carl. Your eyebrows furrow a bit in confusion. “I refuse to be sittin next to a couple who might latch at the mouth any minute.” Eugene explains flatly. Carl looks at him with an odd look as he buckled his seatbelt. “We wouldn’t do that. But okay.” You retort. After Rosita was buckled she turned to look back at you. “Yes you would.”

The rest of the car ride was pretty quiet from the both of you, Carl had his hat on his lap and stared outside the window the whole time which presumably meant he was thinking. Eugene and Rosita conversed a while and you occasionally chimed in. Their little arguments were rather amusing, Rosita tended to have quite harsh comebacks while Eugene focused on outsmarting her.

Before you and the group had arrived at the radio station, you all went over the plan. You and Carl would keep watch on the outside while the other three go in so they can leave as quick as possible while still being efficient. So when you arrived, it seemed somewhat like a breeze. They had entered the building and you knew they’d be in there for a while..maybe thirty, forty five minutes? Like stated previously…you guys weren’t too smart when it came to practicality.

“I don’t think this is a great idea, there’s a good chance they’ll finish fast.” You explain to Carl. “Okay then I’ll make you finish fast.” He rebuttals. You sort of cringe at his joke and he opens the car door for you to get in the back. It was a lot more spacious with just the two of you in there, it was quite nice and Carl felt comfortable getting started right away. You laid back and tugged your shorts down with no warning; also, with the current situation you were both in, he felt there was no time for foreplay.

He pulled your underwear to the side and immediately dove into your heat with his tongue, causing your head to fall back onto the door of the car in pleasure. It was parked closer to the woods, far from the building so you didn’t think there’d be an issue being seen…right? Anyway, his lips wrapped around your clit, he started to suck quite sloppily but he wasn’t quite focused on doing it perfectly. “Oh that’s perfect.” You tell him, your hand going to his head to keep him where you want him. He flattened his tongue against your pussy moving his head up and down, side to side to reach every spot he could. He was practically panting like a dog. Your eyes roll back into your head and you’re grinning largely.

You noticed something was shaking the car a little so you lift your head back up and open your eyes, noticing his arm moving. Meanwhile he stiffened his tongue, prodding it into your hole. You were quite overwhelmed to say the least. “Are you…” Your voice trailed off breathlessly and he glanced up at you, his arm seemingly moving quicker. He was jerking off. You didn’t even notice him unbuckle his jeans.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said between small laps at your clit, a small smile forming on his face. All of a sudden everything seemed more intense, you were close, being loud as ever and he began moaning against you as well. It was everything you could ask for.

“Oh good god-” You hear in a muffled tone, you notice that the voice is in fact coming from outside of the car, behind your door. You open your eyes and Carl stops everything, you see his eyes go wide as he looks out at the window behind you. There’s a shadow from the outside of the car displaying a figure to the inside. You see quite a familiar mullet. You push yourself up and look behind you.

Eugene.

Soon enough you’re both fully dressed and sat up in the car just glaring at Eugene outside completely embarrassed.

You were caught, there was no way you could explain this to him any differently than what he saw. Eugene was frozen, it was like someone had stopped time and he was just stood there terrified. You weren’t sure on what sort of approach to take and Carl was still rock hard so he was focused more on how to stop feeling uncomfortable. You’re trying your hardest to adjust your clothing. “What the hell, Eugene? Shouldn’t you be inside?” You scold him as if you weren’t in the wrong, even though he did interrupt your time.

“They found a room full of walkers and they started spillin out…” He explained, his tone somewhat embarrassed. “So you fucking ran?” Your response is sharp and mean, causing him to flinch a little. “Yes. They have it handled. They’re capable of takin care of the next rooms perfectly fine.” He replied obviously. You sigh and shield your face with your hands. “This is so fucking embarrassing.” You turn to Carl and he was zoned out but he looks at you silently and nods. “Just took me by surprise that’s all.” Eugene chimes in. “That’s a very natural activity for-”

You were all interrupted once again by Rosita this time, calling for Eugene. “Eugene what the hell are you doing? Get in here.” She shouts from the building. He turns to nod at you guys before walking back while Rosita waited at the entrance for him. You fully turn your body to turn to Carl and you let your head fall to his shoulder.

“Yeah there goes our streak.”

a/n: hey guys! i’m feeling a bit better so here’s a smut fic :) i’m gonna get the rest of the match ups out soon although this is quite a busy week for me ill still be working on them! i love u guys bye!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[storiesforallfandoms]

i'd find you in any life ~ eric; a quiet place day one

word count: 3614

request?: no

description: in which two idiots in love find their way back to each other after the end of the world

pairing: eric x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, spoilers for aqpdo, mentions of death, mentions of the quiet place aliens, end of the world type beat

masterlist (one, two, three)

Day One

The little bell over the door chimed to signal the first customer she'd seen in nearly an hour. She stifled an eye roll and bookmarked her novel, only to find it was her favorite customer.

"Hey Eric!"

Eric smiled at her. She was glad to be leaning against the counter because his smile never failed to make her weak in the knees.

"Working hard, or hardly working?" Eric asked, mirroring her leaning position across from her.

"Oh, very clearly working hard," she responded, gesturing to her book. "I'm almost finished my book."

"Very hard work indeed."

(Y/N) chuckled. "Want your usual?"

"Of course. And one of those delicious looking chocolate chip muffins."

(Y/N) playfully salted and went to make Eric's usual coffee order.

Eric had been coming to the coffee shop (Y/N) worked at for months now. He had came in first one morning before one of his classes, in a rush and asking her to make him anything with caffeine as quickly as she could. She quickly made him a coffee and he threw a $20 bill at her, telling her to keep the change. He came back the next day to thank her, and to tell her it was the best coffee he ever had. She made him another and insisted it was on the house.

It was the start of Eric being a regular customer, as well as being the start of his and (Y/N)'s friendship.

Eric watched her work to make his coffee. "You know, one of these days I'll figure out what you do to make such good coffee."

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "It's just coffee! I don't even do anything special with it."

"But it's the best coffee I've had! I can't even make coffee this good."

"I make it with love."

She quickly turned away to pretend she was making his coffee. Really, she was trying to hide the look of embarrassment on her face. The second the words had left her mouth, she regretted it.

Of course (Y/N) had a crush on Eric. You'd be crazy not to. On a surface level, he was extremely handsome. He had the biggest, brownest eyes she had ever seen, the prettiest face, and a smile that made her feel like she was flying. Not to mention that British accent of his, which was way too easy to fall for. And then she got to know him and she found herself falling even deeper in love with his personality. He was the sweetest person she had ever met. She'd be crazy not to develop feelings for him.

The question then, she knew, was why did she never tell Eric how she felt about him?

As kind as Eric was, and as much as she considered him a friend, she knew they weren't meant to be together. Eric was in New York to go to law school. He was going to be a big lawyer, make lots of money and be successful. (Y/N), on the other hand, was in her 20s working in a coffee shop, with no prospects for the future. She didn't know what she wanted in life, but she knew Eric likely wouldn't be a part of it. It was best for him, even if it hurt her.

She poured his coffee into a take away cup and bagged the muffin he asked for. She could barely look at him as she rang in his order. He was looking at her with those big, brown eyes. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to form a coherent sentence if she did.

"Are you on your way to class?" she asked as she took his payment.

"Not for another hour and a half," he replied. "Had to come down to get my coffee first, and was hoping you weren't too busy so I could hang out for a bit."

(Y/N) couldn't fight the smile on her face. "I guess I won't kick you out for loitering."

"As long as I don't get you in trouble."

She scoffed. "Please, you're a paying customer. There's nothing my manager can get upset about. Not that he ever shows up anyways."

Eric paid for his order, and as (Y/N) was getting his change he pulled another $20 bill from his wallet and put it into the tip jar next to the register. (Y/N)'s eyes widened. She grabbed the bill and tried to give it back to Eric.

"That's your tip," he said.

"It's too much, Eric! Just give me your change!"

He shook his head. "You deserve it. I told you, you make the best coffee I've ever had. Not to mention the coffee comes with a side of friendship with a wonderful person."

She tried not to let her smile falter at the word "friends". She knew that's all they were. It was her choice to keep her secrets a secret.

Eric hung around long enough to eat his muffin and drink about half of his coffee. It wasn't until another customer finally came in that they both realized the time and he had to go. (Y/N) said goodbye and Eric promised to come back again the next day. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to her new customer.

Soon, the shop was empty again and (Y/N) found herself missing Eric's presence. Despite being friends, they had yet to exchange phone numbers. Eric had found (Y/N) on social media and asked her if it was okay for him to follow and message her, which of course she said yes. They had messaged back and forth on there, but there was something more intimate about asking for his phone number. Maybe she was just overthinking that. They were already friends, they already spoke outside of when he came to the shop. What harm was there in asking for his number to text whenever they wanted to, and not just when they had internet?

That's it, she thought. I'll do it tomorrow.

(Y/N) was content with her decision, smiling to herself as she was cleaning the coffee machine, when she heard a commotion outside. Through the shop window she could see a crowd forming. She stepped up to the window to see everyone looking at the sky. She followed their gazes to see streaks of light falling from the sky. She thought it was a meteor shower at first, but there was something about it that made her feel off. Like it wasn't just a few space rocks passing over Earth.

She noticed one beam of light was coming closer. Not exactly at her specifically, but close enough for it to be concerning. The crowd in front of the shop suddenly started to move, some of them in a panicked manner. (Y/N) backed away from the window, planning to take cover however she could, but she was too late. There was the sound of an impact a few streets over, followed by rumbling of an aftershock that eventually reached the shop. The last thing (Y/N) remembered was the shop windows exploding and her being thrown back, hitting her head on a nearby table and knocking her out.

~~~~~~

Day 89

"There's a boat coming!"

Eric didn't usually care much to see who was arriving at the island. He was always glad to know that other people had heard and figured out Henri's code to get to safety, but he knew that whoever was coming was not someone for him. He had lost everyone during those first few days - his parents (not that it was ever confirmed, but he knew the likeliness was slim and he'd never get a real confirmation he was sure), Sam.

(Y/N).

There was no reason for him to go watch as new survivors were welcomed to the island, like so many of the others did.

But that day, he was sat outside in the sun eating with Frodo when the call came. Frodo's ears had perked up and, before Eric could stop him, the black and white feline had taken off towards the beach. Eric swore under his breath and got up to follow.

"Even the damn cat is a noisy bugger," Eric muttered to himself.

There was already a small crowd huddled to watch as the small boat coasted onto the island. Henri and a few others were already there, pulling the boat to shore and helping the small handful of survivors off. He was speaking to the first person who had gotten off, a man who shared the same expression that everyone did when they first got there - terror. The confusion and fear of Henri speaking always got to them first, and often times people wouldn't believe Henri when he said that the aliens couldn't reach them because they couldn't survive the water.

Eric was looking for Frodo more than he was paying attention to whoever was getting off the boat. The cat was moving around the people in his way so smoothly, meanwhile Eric had to bump and push his way past everyone, mumbling an apology as he went.

Frodo suddenly ran towards the boat as another person got off. Eric broke through the crowd and chased after Frodo, an apology already on the tip of his tongue for whoever Frodo had ran up to. But the words died before they could come out as he watched the person scoops Frodo up in her arms and look for whoever owned him, her eyes locking on Eric immediately.

"Eric?"

"(Y/N)?"

He was moving before he realized it, his arms around (Y/N) to pull her into a hug. Tears were forming in his eyes as he held her, making sure that she was actually real and not a figment of his imagination.

Frodo grumbled, breaking them apart. He jumped down from (Y/N)'s arms and sat looking between them.

"Is he yours?" she asked.

"Technically yes. He belonged to someone else before, but..." He stopped, the familiar ache in his chest from whenever he thought about Sam. "But he's mine, now."

(Y/N) nodded. She seemed to understand. They had all gone through the same hell, all lost someone. It was hard not to understand.

"Bring her up," Henri said, suddenly appearing next to the two of them. That's when Eric realized that everyone was making their way back to the community. "Unless you both want to keep standing here all day."

Eric shook his head. "No, sorry. (Y/N), come with me."

(Y/N) was shocked upon seeing the community of houses and people, as most survivors are. They were so used to the wreckage that the aliens caused, and all the fear that drove so many into silence, that seeing all these well built houses, and seeing people talking and living without fear, was foreign.

"When was the last time you ate anything?" Eric asked (Y/N). "Or showered? Or had water?"

"A long time," (Y/N) responded to all three questions.

Eric nodded. "I have my own place. Frodo and I were just having lunch, and there's plenty to share. I have a working shower, drinkable water."

"That all sounds perfect," she said. "Lead the way."

Eric showed her to his place. He gave her towels and told her he'd find her clean clothes from one of the other ladies in town. He tried not to linger as she stepped into the bathroom and let the shower run. She'd think he was crazy if she caught him there, debating on going into the shower with her, but it was the only thing on his mind in this moment. Well, besides the desire to kiss her senseless and never let her go again.

Eric had mourned (Y/N). Even before he met Sam and had to mourn her as well, he mourned the coffee shop girl who had became such a good friend to him; who he had loved and never told. When the invasion first started, Eric's first thought wasn't his own survival, but about if (Y/N) had gotten to safety. He had left her in the coffee shop just moments prior, and someone had been with her then, but did that person stay? Did more people come? Was there anyone there to protect her, to get her out? Had she figured out too late that the aliens were attracted to sound?

When he got on the boat to come to the island, he looked at every other survivor that was there with him. He asked around if anyone knew (Y/N), if they knew whether she was there. When they got to the island, he looked at the others who had gotten there first. She was nowhere to be seen, and no one knew of her. He had to come to terms with the fact that she was probably dead, and that made him wish he was, too.

He regretted never telling (Y/N) how he felt. He thought he had lost his chance forever, and that thought haunted him every day. He could hardly believe that she was actually here, that she had survived.

One of his neighbors was gracious enough to give him clothes for (Y/N). He left them outside the bathroom door for her, then went back outside to continue eating. He had gotten the extra food he had planned to put away as leftovers and brought it out for (Y/N) to eat, as well as gotten her a glass of water. Frodo had taken his position hunched over a can of cat food again, eating away as if he were the one who was starved.

(Y/N) came out a few minutes later, her wet hair clinging to her and looking more refreshed. She still looked exhausted, but he knew how long it would take to really get any rest after what she had experienced.

She sat down next to him and picked up the food he had waiting for her.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course," he responded. "You served me for quite some time. I think it's only fair I finally repay the favor."

She smiled, and he was brought back to every time he visited her coffee shop and was able to make her smile at something he said. It had always been such an accomplishment to him.

They ate in silence for some time. (Y/N) tried to savor the food, but she was so hungry that she couldn't help but scarf so much of it down so quickly. Eric couldn't help but watch her. He was still terrified that she'd suddenly disappear and he'd realize this was all just a dream.

"I can't believe you're here," he said before he could stop himself.

(Y/N) looked up at him. "I can't believe you're here. I thought..."

"Me too."

She moved her plate aside and turned her body so that she was facing him. "What happened that day?"

"I was in the tube - the subway - and suddenly there was all this shaking and rumbling. A pipe or something burst eventually and suddenly the whole place was flooded. I was sure I was a goner, until I managed to get to a stairwell that led up into New York. That's where I first met this guy - " Eric reached over to pat Frodo. " - and I followed him to his owner. She...she's the reason I'm here."

"Did she...?"

Eric swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "She was sick. She told me she made peace with her mortality and was okay with the sacrifice so that Frodo and I could survive."

(Y/N) reached out to place her hand on Eric's. He moved it so that their fingers intertwined. If this had been months ago, he would've been more focused on the fact that he was finally holding (Y/N)'s hand.

"She sounds like a good person," (Y/N) said. "I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eric said. "What about you? What happened to you that day?"

"Well, I was at the coffee shop, as you know, and suddenly these...things...I guess the eggs? I don't know, but I watched them fall from the sky. One of them landed a few streets over from the shop and the aftershocks blew the windows out and knocked me out. When I came to, I had been rescued by Stephen, he's the one who got off the boat first. He found anyone who was still alive and brought us to this building to hide us away. He told us to keep quiet, that it was the only way for us to survive. He kept going out and searching for other survivors, or for any resources to keep us alive."

"He didn't take you to the boats?"

She shook her head. "He tried, but there was an attack when we were all trying to get there. We kind of dispersed and all ended up back in the same building. A lot of us didn't make it, and by the time we tried to get out again the boats were gone. We had no idea where they were going, or how to get there since every boat had been taken from the dock it seemed. We settled in to try and fend for ourselves, which we did until we happened to hear a song looping over the radio."

"Beyond the Sea," Eric said. "It was Henri's idea. It was a code to get more survivors to come to safety."

"It worked. It just took some time for us to follow it."

"But you're here now." Eric squeezed her hand. "God, I'm so glad you're here. I thought...I spent every day thinking about you."

"I thought about you a lot, too." There were tears in her eyes now, too. "When I woke up, the first thing I thought was worrying where you were. I wanted so badly for you to have been someone that Stephen saved, and then so much time passed and I thought..."

Eric nodded. "Me too. I really thought you were gone."

It may not have been the most tactful way to do it, but emotions were running high and Eric's brain wasn't particularly working right. He took hold of her face and pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers. It wasn't the best kiss in the world, he would admit. Because he caught (Y/N) off guard, it was more teeth than lips, and he could taste the saltiness of their mixed tears on her lips.

When she pulled away almost immediately, Eric felt embarrassment wash over him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done that without asking first."

To his surprise, (Y/N) moved their plates out of their way before climbing onto Eric's lap. She leaned in slower, giving him more time to register that they were going to kiss again. When her lips touched his this time, it was soft and gentle, but still needy. Like they were both making up for so much lost time, which, he guessed, they were.

They were only interrupted this time by someone yelling, "Hey! There's kids out here! Get a room!"

(Y/N) pulled away, giggling a little as she rested her forehead against Eric's.

"So, it was okay that I kissed you?" he asked.

"I would think me kissing you back was enough of an answer," she said. "But yes, it was very much okay."

"I've wanted to do that since the day after we met."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "The day after?"

"Well yeah. The day we met I was in such a hurry that I didn't have time to really register the fact that a beautiful woman was making me coffee."

"See, that's so funny, because I also wanted to kiss you the day we met, and every day after when you came in for coffee."

"Wait, really?" Her smile was shyer now as she nodded her head. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Well, you were going to school to be a lawyer and you had everything going for you. I was just the girl in a coffee shop who didn't know what she was doing with her life. I thought...I thought it would be better for you if we didn't date, so that you could find someone with the same ambitions as you."

"I'm not saying this now because the world as ended, but fuck me being a lawyer. I didn't care if you were working at a coffee shop, or going to school like I was, or if you were just some homeless person on the side of the road. I loved you for who you were. I still love you for who you are."

(Y/N) was speechless. It was the words she had been longing to hear for so long, even after the world went to shit. She was convinced she was dreaming, or having some sort of alien induced hallucination. She made a mental note to pinch herself later, because if this was a dream she didn't want to wake up any time soon.

"I love you, too."

They went to kiss again, but Frodo meowed and nudged Eric's leg. He chuckled as he reached down to pet the cat. "I guess we shouldn't just be making out in broad daylight after already being yelled at once."

"I suppose not," (Y/N) said. "You know, I am awfully tired still. You should take me in to see your bed."

Eric grinned at her. "I like the way you think."

[sweetbunpura]

Limited Time Menu

Mostro Lounge is moderately busy on most days, mostly due to Azul's marketing and the like. But for tonight, the Lounge was PACKED. Waiters were running too and fro around the dinning room, taking orders and serving food to customers. The infamous first years sat at a booth as they took in the atmosphere.

"Damn, it took forever to get a seat." Ace grumbled. "What's going on today?"

"I heard Azul was running a new limited time menu." Jack responded. "Maybe that's why everyone's piling in here."

"Hmph." Sebek crossed his arms. "What would be so important to bring the student body here?"

"I mean..." Deuce started. "We're here."

Epel chimed. "Yeah, but, we're not here for the promotion and Ortho's here because he wants to hang out. Grim is also a give in."

"Mm-hmm!" Ortho nodded and smiled.

"It's too noisy." Grim huffed. "And Henchhuman said she had stuff to do for the next week."

"Hi, Freshies!" They turned their attention to Ruggie. "Here's the menus! Now, what can I get you started on?"

Jack answered "Water's just fine. Right, guys?" They nodded.

"Sure, sure." Ruggie wrote it down. "And we got a limited time menu going on, only available for the next three days."

"What's the best thing?" Ace asks.

"Honestly? All of it." Ruggie sighs. "We ran out of four things today, so you better get it while it's going."

"Thanks, Ruggie-senpai."

The hyena beastman nodded and left, leaving the first years to look over the menu.

"There's six things on here. Ruggie made it seem like it was a lot." Ace frowns.

"It all sounds good though." Deuce mutters as he looks at the menu. "The Chicken-fried Steak sounds good."

"So do the Biscuits and Gravy." Epel hums as he imagines the food.

"I'm interested in the Jambalaya." Sebek voices.

"Chicken and Waffles?" Ace raises an eyebrow. "I'll guess I'll go for it."

"I wonder what a Shrimp Po' Boy is..." Jack reads the ingredients.

"Gimme those Smothered Pork Chops!" Grim licked his lips.

"Here's your water." Ruggie set it down. " I think I heard Grim yelling out an order." He pulled out his pad. "So, we're ready?"

As each boy gave their order and Ruggie departed to fill in the order, Mostro continued to fill with new customers and those who left sang praises of the menu. A couple of minutes later and their food was out, piping hot and smelling good.

"That smells so good, holy shit." Ace eyed his food.

The others nodded and Ruggie bid them farewell. They took their first bite and an explosion of flavor filled their mouths.

"No way..." Deuce tore into the chicken fried steak. "How is this so good?"

"I want a second helping!" Epel was roughly halfway thought his meal.

"Who knew this food combination would be so good?" Jack took another bite of his sandwich.

Sebek was silent as he nearly finished off his plate. Grim was happily eating, shoving the pork chops in his mouth. By the time Ruggie returned, they had finished as they all looked full and content.

"Thank you for choosing Mostro Lounge tonight!" The hyena beastman took the payment. "We hope you choosing us again!"

As closing time neared, eventually the dining room cleared and the Lounge closed. In the kitchen, Azul addressed the staff with a smile on his face.

"Today was an extremely busy night!" He clapped his hands. "And I'm glad everyone continued to work hard! A round of applause for everyone!" He waited as their cheers settled down. "And thank Yuu-san for allowing us to borrow some of her time!"

Yuu gave a tired smile as she leaned against one of the pillars and cheers filled the room. Afterwards, the dorm members went to bed and Yuu bid the trio goodnight as she left.

"I'm gonna go pass out." She gave a kiss to Floyd's check as she departed. "Night."

"You're in a good mood, Azul. I'm assuming profits were good tonight?" Jade asked once the door closed.

Azul hummed. "Yes! Fantastically so! There was a 65% increase!"

Jade nodded. "And what of you, Floyd? I saw you back to back with Miss Yuu in the kitchen. Since she refuses to share her family recipes with us, surely you know them?"

Azul turned to Floyd with rapt attention. "Oh? Do tell, Floyd."

Floyd shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "Nah. I promised Shirmpy that I wouldn't tell ya anythin'." He yawned. "And I value that promise more than I value anythin' else."

The octopus merman deflated as Jade chuckled. The perks of being the best friend and boyfriend to one amazing chef. Floyd closed his eyes and smiled.

"But~ Her food was so good. She let me try everythin'~"

"Don't tell me that!"

[babydollmarauders]

OHMAMI — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which Quinn fucks his girlfriend in the backseat of his new car

warnings: NSFW!!, p in v (unprotected), semi-public sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), light choking, praise, dirty talk, dom!quinn, lots of use of the pet name “baby”, slight religious reference (?), pls let me know if i’m missing any.

notes: inspired by OHMAMI by Chase Atlantic (feat. Maggie Lindemann). 4.6k words.

IMPORTANT: please look up Ferrari GTC4Lusso T interior if you need a better understanding of the car layout

“you’re sure about this?” i mindlessly wander the office of the luxury dealership, my fingertips running over any surface they can touch.

“why wouldn’t i be?” Quinn peers up at me from his spot in a chair, his iphone in his hands, mid-texting his younger brother.

“i don’t know, Q. it’s just a lot of money is all.” shrugging, i shuffle my feet back over to my boyfriend, where i let my hands rest on his shoulders as i stand behind him.

Quinn lets out a chuckle, pulling one of my hands in his and raising it to his lips to press a gentle kiss against my knuckles.

“i appreciate the financial concern, baby, but i think i’ll be okay.”

i sigh, moving around to sit on his lap. “okay.”

his arm spindles around my waist as he draws me back, my back flat against his chest. my fingers unconsciously draw shapes on his forearm, near the crook of his elbow, as he continues texting Jack about the big purchase he’s about to make.

i eye his phone, watching the blue and gray bubbles pop up back and forth and hoping we’ll be done here soon.

two hours of looking at cars, Quinn asking a multitude of questions to the salesman; half an hour of paperwork, and another half hour of waiting for said salesman to run Quinn’s name through the system, checking his credit score and whatever various other things needed to buy such a high-end car. i’ve been stuck at this dealership for three hours now, unplanned, as Quinn had pulled into the establishment after our spur-of-the-moment 3pm lunch date, claiming he just wanted to take a quick look at a couple of cars.

“Quinny,” i breathe out, letting my head fall backwards on his shoulder while his hand starts mindlessly rubbing up and down my thigh. “how much longer will we have to be here?”

“i don’t know, baby. hopefully not too much longer.” he locks his phone, setting it on his thigh and using his now free hand to caress my cheek, simultaneously turning my head to look into my eyes.

“is my girl tired?” he coos at the sight of my fluttering eyelids, leaning in to brush his lips lightly over mine.

“mhm” i hum, burrowing my face in his neck. his hand moves as i do, now resting on the back of my head, holding it in its position.

it’s at this moment that the salesman decides to make his re-entrance. “alright! everything checks out, looks good!”

i immediately attempt to pry myself from my boyfriend, but he holds me in place, clearly not bothered by the new company.

“i knew it would!” Quinn smiles back at the man, putting on his usual charm.

“now all we need is that down payment and you’ll be driving out of here in your very own Ferrari!” the salesman, i haven’t bothered to learn his name, chimes. “do you have a credit card you can give me?”

“yep,” Quinn taps my butt, signaling for me to lift it so he can grab his wallet from his pocket. i do so and he unpockets his wallet before pulling me back down on his lap. “here you go.”

the man takes Quinn’s card, taking a seat at his desk and punching the information from the card before handing it back.

“alright,” he grabs a few papers from the printer behind him, stapling them together and scribbling in a few places before sliding them towards my boyfriend. “just sign here, and here.”

Quinn leans forward and his left arm tightens around my waist to keep me situated on his lap, taking the pen in his right hand and autographing his signature twice.

“congratulations!” the salesman grins, handing the new keys to Quinn and shaking his hand.

“thanks, man.” Quinn smiles crookedly, rising from the chair and bringing me up with him.

we follow behind the salesman, back out to the Ferrari that Quinn just bought; which is now parked next to Jack’s Range Rover, in which we drove here.

i take Jack’s keys from Quinn with a sigh. knowing i’m now responsible for getting such an expensive car back to the lake house is a frightening task that i didn’t expect to be doing today, but one i’m now stuck with nonetheless.

“i’ll see you back at the house, yeah?” Quinn smiles. his hand grips my waist, pulling my lower half into his as he lowers his lips onto mine in a breathless kiss.

“yeah, wish me luck. if i get even a scratch on this car, Jack will have my head on a stick.” i gnaw at my lower lip in anxiety, but his free hand comes up to my chin, his thumb pulling my lip free from my teeth.

“nah, he loves you too much. he’d have my head on a stick.” he laughs, before lightly nudging me back towards the car.

“that’s even worse!” i tease. “how am i supposed to explain to the Canucks that their star defenseman is dead because i scratched his brothers car?”

“eh, you’re smart,” he winks, rounding the Ferrari. “you’ll think of something.”

we climb into the respective cars, and Quinn is gracious enough to wait while i adjust the seat to my height before he begins leading the way to the lake house.

the drive is smooth, and when we arrive at the house, Quinn opens my door as i return the seat adjustments back to the way Jack had them.

“see?” he grins, leaning over my body to unbuckle my seatbelt for me. “the car is all good.”

“it better be. that car is my baby.” Jack pipes up from behind him, making Quinn roll his eyes. “if anything were to happen-”

“yeah, yeah.” he cuts him off. “if anything were to happen to it, you would’ve killed her.”

i feign a gasp, jokingly smacking his arm.

“you said he would kill you.” i say in mock shock.

Quinn shrugs. “i was trying to calm your nerves.”

i playfully push him away, hopping out of the car to face Jack, who’s now too busy ogling the Ferrari to pay any attention to his own vehicle.

“i’m gonna go see if your mom needs any help with dinner.” i announce, already stepping towards the house. “have fun showing off your new toy, babe!”

i pass by a horde of guys on my way into the house, bumping hips with Cole, who ends up giggling.

“going to see the new thing?” i ask, and Trevor stops dead in his tracks.

“that thing is a 2022 Ferrari GTC4Lusso.” Trevor explains, as if i understand a single thing he’s just said.

“sure. whatever it is, it cost a lot.” i shrug, carrying on into the house. “enjoy.”

i join Ellen in the kitchen, making myself busy by tossing together the salad ingredients she has on the counter.

we make small talk as we cook, letting the men have their fun gawking at the new car, and enjoying the silence that comes with it.

“do you wanna go tell them dinner is ready?” she more so tells me to do, and i fake a pout.

“do i have to? it’s so peaceful. we could easily just slip out back and eat dinner by the lake without them ever even noticing.” i wiggle my eyebrows enticingly and she laughs, shooing me off towards the front door.

“i had to try.” i giggle out, opening the front door to the gaggle of men. “boys! dinner’s ready!”

they all make their way up the porch and i stand idly by, waiting for my own man to enter the house. finally, he appears at the very back of the group, smirking as he wraps an arm around my waist, walking me to the dining room.

“i was thinking after dinner, you and i could go for a drive. just us.” he pecks a kiss to my cheek as we sit at the table, and i nod.

“sure, sounds nice.” his hand rests on my thigh now, partly covered by my sundress, and i squirm a little at his touch on my bare skin.

it’s been at least three weeks since Quinn and i have been able to do anything past PG-13, him not wanting to risk it while his parents are here, and i’m starting to feel restless.

the smallest touches from him have been causing me to get slick with need, and i squeeze my thighs together to provide myself some friction, but it never helps. like now.

i know Quinn has caught on because his grip tightens just the slightest bit, his thumb beginning to stroke my skin.

“you okay, baby?” he’s teasing me, asking his question in such a sweet tone that anyone else at the dinner table would think he’s just checking in on his girlfriend, but he and i know that isn’t the case.

“mhm” i hum, attempting to ignore his touch as i fill my plate and his.

“now y/n, Quinn is a grown man with two hands; he can make his own plate, honey.” Ellen jests, poking a dig at her eldest son.

“acts of service is her love language, ma.” Quinn pokes back before pressing another chaste kiss to my cheek, muttering his thank you as we begin to eat.

the table is filled with a generous amount of chatting as we eat; Jack telling a story about something that happened in Jersey, Luke telling everyone about how Luca Fantilli got his head stuck in stair banisters… twice, Trevor going on a long-winded rant about a missed goal; but Quinn and i are mostly silent. Quinn because he’s just almost been more of the listen rather than talk type, and me because i don’t trust my voice while my boyfriend is currently inching his hand up the bottom of my dress.

someone seems to catch onto my lack of interest though, because Alex eyes me curiously from his spot in front of me, and then chooses to speak up.

“you’re quiet tonight, y/n.” his statement draws the attention of the rest of the group, their eyes gravitating towards me.

“just tired.” i fib, my voice tight as Quinn’s hand slowly slides towards my inner thigh, now just far enough away that if he spreads his fingers, his pinky will graze against my wet panties. “who knew three hours at a car dealership could be so draining.”

Cole laughs, obviously buying my lie, which causes the rest of the table to chuckle.

“oh yeah, honey. buying a car will do that.” Ellen sympathizes. “the long process sucks the life right out of you.”

the chatter carries on around me and i return to my silence. dinner has long since been finished, and Luke proposes making s’mores for dessert, so Quinn takes that as our chance to escape.

“you guys go ahead,” he starts. his warm touch disappears from my skin as he rises from his chair. “y/n and i are gonna go for a drive. i wanna show her why this purchase was worth it.”

he holds his hand out for mine and i falter, looking between Ellen and him.

“i usually help your mom with the dishes.” i remind him, gesturing towards the table full of plates.

“oh don’t worry about it,” Ellen chimes. “Jack can help me.”

“i- what?” Jack sputters, finally looking away from the phone screen he’s been engrossed in for the past few minutes. “what about me? i was checking the Yankees score.”

Quinn rolls his eyes at his younger brother, shaking his head as he grasps my hand, pulling me up from my seat and leading me through the house.

“we’ll be back in a little bit!” he calls out as we exit through the front door.

climbing into the car, i can feel the excitement radiating off of him.

“okay, i know i’m not a car person, but what is a drive in it supposed to show me?” i ask as he starts the engine. his hand gravitates to the back of my headrest as he reverses out of the driveway, his eyes flicking between the backup camera and the back window of the car.

it should be illegal to be this hot while reversing a car.

fuck, y/n. focus.

“you’ll understand once you ride it.”

i scan his body, my eyes lingering in one specific place.

i can think of something i’d like to ride.

shit, y/n. think with your brain, not your hormones.

“okay.” i drag out, leaning back in the seat and relaxing as he drives down the street.

the car is quiet besides the soft hum of the radio, tuned into a random pop hits station that i know Quinn turned on just for me.

his left hand sits on the steering wheel, while his right reaches over to lay upon my thigh, causing my thoughts to run wild. fantasies and memories of us tangled in the sheets, his hand on my throat as he hovers above me, or better yet; his hand in between my legs, his fingers working me toward my orgasm.

i can feel my skin get red and hot, as i imagine all the ways i would be with him if we weren’t stuck in a house full of people.

… but we’re not there now.

Quinn exits onto the highway, the car speeding up as he does so, and i glance toward the back seat.

it’s small, but we could make it work.

my hand snakes up to sit on top of his and his eyes flicker towards me, a soft smile resting on his lips at the sweet gesture. and i let him believe that for a few minutes before i’m pulling his hand up my thigh, closer towards my soaking core.

“baby-” he breathes out, his words failing him when he finally feels how wet i am.

“we’re all alone.” i state, my head lolling back against the seat as his fingers start stroking me through my panties like they have a mind of their own.

“baby, i’m driving.” his voice is strained, a vein popping out on his neck as he clenches his jaw.

my hand leaves his, instead reaching over to palm him through his jeans, in which his left hand leaves the wheel to lightly swat mine away.

“i can’t drive if you do that.”

i huff but it blends into a moan as his thumb begins to circle my clit.

“so, pull over.” i suggest, ready for something more.

he’s hesitant, i can tell, so i pull out the secret weapon.

“please, daddy.” i whimper, reaching over to palm his now hard cock once more.

“fuck.” he curses, switching lanes to get off on the next exit.

he quickly finds a mostly abandoned lookout, only one other car parked on the other side of the lot, and switches into park.

his eyes are cloudy with need as he turns to look at me, his fingers still working themselves on my bundle of nerves. my breaths come out in heavy pants that mingle with moans.

“faster.” i plead, but rather than obeying my lust-hazed command, he pulls his hand away completely. i mewl at the loss of touch, but his hand winds up to the base of my neck, his grasp just light enough to remind me who’s in charge, but not tight enough to do any harm to my air supply.

“you don’t call the shots here, darling.” he whispers before pulling me by his grip into a bruising kiss.

his tongue brushes against mine and his teeth bite down on my lower lip, making me whimper. when he pulls away, i can just barely make out his features within the darkness of the Ferrari.

“get in the back.” he orders and i scramble to unbuckle my seatbelt, climbing over the center console and into the divided backseat.

rather than joining me by climbing back, Quinn exits the car, rounding the front and opening the passenger side door. he pulls the passenger seat forward, climbing in on his knees and shutting the door, the seat still pulled as far forward as it’ll go.

his arms hook around my legs, pulling me forward so that i’m slumped in the seat, my ass sitting on the edge. he looks up at me with dark eyes, placing my legs over his shoulders as he leans forward.

his hands glide up my legs, bunching my sundress up to my waist. his tongue licks a stripe over my clothed cunt and i shudder, my left hand attempting to grip at the leather of the backseat center console, as my right finds itself tangled in his hair.

he pulls away, despite my attempts to hold him in place, and his fingertips play with the waistband of my lacy yellow panties.

“beg me.” he insists, teasing me by hooking his fingers in the sides of my underwear, but not making any further moves.

“please, Quinn.” i plead, and he pulls one side away from my skin then lets it snap back into place, causing me to jolt.

“uh-uh.” he shakes his head, backing away just slightly.

“please, daddy, please.” i cry out, attempting to pull him in again. “i’ll be good, i promise.”

“yeah?” Quinn taunts, slowly pulling my panties down my legs as i lift myself just barely from the seat. he knocks my legs from his shoulders, pulling the under garment off and throwing it in the front seat.

“mhm.” i nod my head wildly, my brows raising as i do so. “i’ll be so good. just please, please, do something.”

Quinn wastes no more time, pushing one of my legs up to hook over the backseat center console as the other hooks over his shoulder. he dives down, licking up my heat like a man starved.

his tongue circles my clit and my head drops back, but he provides a swift smack to my thigh to remind me to look at him. one of his rules.

i bite my lip to try and muffle my cries of pleasure, his hand rising to pull the top of my dress down just enough for my breasts to pop out. he grips one, harshly squeezing before he pinches at my nipple.

my jaw drops open, a breathy moan escaping my lips as my back attempts to arch in the small space.

“fuck!” i cry out, tugging at his hair. “yes, daddy!”

he shifts between sucking on clit to licking in my cunt, fucking me with his tongue. my hips stutter and he holds my leg open as it tries to unhook itself from the console in order to close on his head.

i tug again at his hair, pushing his head further into me, and he moans, the vibrations flowing straight into my core. i cry out again, the familiar knot in my stomach slowly building the longer he continues.

“please!” i whine. “please, make me come!”

Quinn’s dips down to show more love to my pussy, and his nose brushes against my clit, my hips immediately beginning to grind against him. my legs begin to shake and i can feel myself getting closer and closer to release.

“right there! don’t stop!”

i’m sure anyone outside the car can probably hear my screams, but it doesn’t deter me. too busy chasing my high to care what anyone else may think.

of course, Quinn doesn’t listen, knowing my body well enough to know exactly what will set me off. his lips close around my clit, sucking and flicking his tongue, and it only takes a few moments for me to reach the edge.

“i’m gonna come! fuck, i’m gonna come!” i warn him but he only pushes deeper, flicking his tongue faster against the button of nerves, and i let out a guttural moan as i finally let go, coming on his face. he laps at my release, riding me through my orgasm, only stopping once i begin to twitch at the feeling.

“now you see why i won’t do anything at the house?” he teases, smirking as he wipes at the juices on his chin with the back of his hoodie sleeve. “you’re so vocal. i love it, but i don’t want anyone else hearing your sounds. they’re just for me.”

my hand hook around the nape of his neck and i pull him up to my face, pressing my lips against his. he moans into the kiss and i can taste myself on his lips; slightly sweet, slightly salty, and it turns me on; pushing me towards another round.

i release him from my grasp, lightly shooing him backwards and fiddling with the button on his pants.

“i want you to fuck me.” i breathe out, pulling his zipper down.

“oh yeah?” his smirk grows, clearly not expecting any more than we just did.

“yes, please.” i nod, pulling his pants down, his erection popping free and slapping against his clothed torso. “please fuck me, daddy.”

i maneuver myself onto my knees, slowly bending myself over the center console, allowing my right leg to straighten some, my foot dropping down to the floor of the car as the other leg stays bent on the backseat; allowing him a full view of my glistening pussy.

“since you asked so nicely, baby.” Quinn joins me on the seat, knelt behind me at a slightly awkward angle as he pulls his pants down some more.

i bite back a giddy smile, waiting impatiently for him to fill me up, and i’m not disappointed when i look back to find him grasping his cock. he runs it through my folds a few times, lubing himself up with my release, and i arch my back to better accommodate him.

my eyes roll back, a moan bubbling up my throat as he pushes his tip into my entrance, thrusting in just slightly before pulling back and repeating.

“daddy, please.” i whine, still frustratingly horny and awaiting his full size.

it doesn’t take any more begging than that, Quinn suddenly bottoming out inside me.

“fuck, baby, you feel so good.” he groans, but i’m too busy choking out my own cries to reply.

he begins thrusting slowly, and i nearly let out a sob of relief at the feeling.

“whadd’ya think?” he asks, his voice strained as he thrusts into me, fucking my hips into the leather of the center console. “how does my cock feel, fucking your greedy little pussy?”

“so good!” i exclaim, pushing back against him. my eyes squeeze shut as his hand wraps around my throat, the other gripping my hip. “feels so good!”

“love watching your ass bounce off me as i fuck you like this.” he groans and his dirty talk succeeds in making me clench around him, causing him to moan.

i peek back to find his head thrown back, his jaw slack and his eyes firmly shut for a moment before he looks back down, making eye contact with me.

he leans forward, his front pressing against my back as he kisses my lips, nipping at my lips before he pulls back and continues fucking into me at a faster rhythm.

my head drops forward, my hair curtaining my face, and i let out a cry of pleasure as he begins rubbing my clit.

my back arches again, and i whimper when his hand leaves my throat in order to smooth down my spine, pushing my back down further.

“taking me so well.” he praises, thrusting harder than before, and i can feel the knot that had just come undone, tangling back together. “such a good girl for me.”

”only for you, daddy.” he continues his assault on my clit and the sensation mixed with the fullness of him pushing into me makes my legs begin to shake once more.

i can feel his dick pulsating, and his strokes become sloppier, assuring me that he’s close. i clench around him, my eyes rolling back and stars dancing in my vision.

“oh god, i’m coming!” i announce.

Quinn grips my hip tight, “god isn’t in this car, baby.”

my hips begin to falter in their movements, my body locking up and my breath catching in my throat as i come for the second time tonight.

my orgasm spurs on his; his hips stuttering and his breathing falling heavy, a grunt escaping his lips as he finishes inside of me.

his thrusts stop, the car falling silent except our heavy pants as we catch our breath. the windows are fogged, the scent of sex lingering around us.

Quinn pulls out of me and i slump against the center console, listening to him pull his pants back up. he pulls my sundress back down to cover my ass before he sits, gripping my hips and pulling me back and onto his lap, my back now pressed against the side of the car.

my head lolls sideways onto his shoulder, my eyes closed, and he chuckles, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. caressing my cheek, he pecks a soft kiss onto my nose and the corners of my lips twitch up in a smile.

“worth the wait?” he questions and my eyelids flutter open. i nod, craning my neck to kiss his cheek, and he smiles.

“my girl needs some sleep, huh?” he asks, and i nod again, but make no moves to get up. “let’s get you home.”

my limbs feel like jello as i climb out of the car, letting him out before i push the passenger seat back and sit back down, buckling up. Quinn rounds the car, climbing into the drivers side and starting the engine once more.

but before beginning to drive, he reaches down and pulls my panties out from under his thigh. laughing, he hands them back to me, and i giggle as i pull them back on.

the ride home is mostly quiet, my head resting against the cool glass window and our hands laced together, with his right one back in its place on the steering wheel.

“well,” i start as we pull into the driveway, my voice hoarse from my earlier cries. “we christened the car.”

Quinn lets out a hearty laugh, letting go of my hand to put the car in park and turn off the engine.

he jumps out of the car as i unbuckle, making his way around to my door and letting me out.

“what do you think the odds are that they’ll be asleep?” he grins as i pretend to ponder his question.

“your parents? one hundred percent. everyone else? maybe twenty percent.” i joke and he shrugs.

“i’ll take those odds.” we make our way up the porch and he unlocks the door, attempting to stay quiet in order to sneak past any stray boys still in the open space of the house.

but luck is officially not on our side as we open the front door to the living room full of his brothers and their friends on the couch playing video games.

Quinn quietly curses as heads turn to look at us, and Trevor is the first to put together our long drive and our disheveled appearances. he busts out in laughter, pointing between my boyfriend and i.

“oh you guys fucked.” he cackles, wheezing in amusement.

Jack and Luke’s noses scrunch for a moment before they too join in on the laughter, but luckily Alex and Cole just shake their heads at their friends.

“you guys are so immature.” Quinn scoffs, lacing his hand in mine as we head toward the stairs, up to our bedroom.

“in the new car, guys? seriously?” Jack calls out, and his older brother rolls his eyes, continuing up the stairs.

“goodnight!”

[p-e-n-i-s-c-o-r-e]

Jewels

Summary: In which the reader and Lando had been broken up for a while. He comes into her jewelery store looking for something.

Warnings: Use of Y/n

Authors Note: Hey, fellas, how we doing. It's currently 10:31pm where I am. Meaning it's still Landos birthday 😼. Which is when I wanted to post this. Remember I am a beginner so pls don't bully me I'll cum :(. Anyways, enjoy!

It's been rough these past few years. Having had been broken by the person who you had thought was the one. The one who you were still deeply in love with now. Yeah, he was quite distant but you just thought he was stressed. Never have thought he would've called you late while you were sitting in your hotel room in Brazil. The words I think we should break up echoing into the room. The words sinking in as your heart breaks into millions of pieces. His reasoning being I fell out of love. You had hung up. You had this plan that you would quit your job, and surprise him at Brazil just in time to watch him race, but he broke up with you. Carlos was helping you with the plan, providing the paddock pass you would've needed. Now you don't know what to do. You don't have a job anymore. You had some money still in the bank yes, but not enough to pay the bills creeping in from your house back in Texas. You felt like dying. The one you loved with your whole being just broke up with you. You called Carlos, explaining the whole thing. He didn't know. How would he? Lando rarely had been talking to anyone lately. Carlos offered to help, which you appriciate, the only reason you were somewhat stable now was because of him. He helped you find an apartment in Monaco, helped whenever you were short with payments. You always refused, but he wanted to help. He felt bad for you.

Here you were now. You worked as a Jewler for a small Jewelry shop in Monaco, known for the most gorgeous engagement rings. You hadn't seen Lando in years, and your heart still hurt. Never really getting over him, you tried, went on a few dates here and there, your co-worker, Isabella, setting you up with a few guys she was friends with, but they never worked. They weren't him.

You were helping out a customer pick out a necklace for his wife's upcoming birthday when the door chimed, signaling a new customer had walked in. You look up ready to greet the customer like how you do the others, but you freeze once you lock eyes. It was him. The man you hadn't seen in 4 years. The man who had broken your heart. You feel your body start to grow heavy, but you keep it together.

"Welcome! If you need any specific help, just ask."

You say, looking at him like you don't recognize him. You turn back to the old man you were helping when Lando speaks

"Uh, yeah.. Engagement rings?"

What? Your face visibly falls, but you catch it quickly, not fast enough, though, because Lando notices. You speak.

"Yeah, right this way."

You lead Lando further into the store, where the Engagment Rings were showcased.

"Anything specific?"

You ask, your eyes scanning over the display of rings. Your heart clenching inside your chest.

"Anything with like... a flowery design? Oh, and a black band."

Your mind immediately thinks of one ring in stock. It was this beautiful double ring with a Moss Amite stone that sat in the middle, surrounded with smaller Mossanite stones, brought together with a black gold band that had leaves spreading around the stone. You walk over to the cabinet right next to the display case, and grab a small black velvet box, opening it to show Lando.

You watch as his eyes widen slightly at the sight of the ring. Your heart is starting to deflate around itself.

"Shit.. it's perfect... how much is it?"

"€1699.00"

You say, your voice betraying you as your voice breaks. He doesn't notice it, though, simply following you to the front counter to pay for the ring.

"So.. uh.. how you've been?"

"Alright."

You say, one worded answer. The air around you both is awkward. Very, very awkward.

"That's good."

Lando watches you type on the computer before speaking again.

"You got a boyfriend?"

Your body freezes slight at his words.

"No."

You look at him, he seems surprised. Everyone always is. How a pretty girl like you doesn't have a boyfriend. You just couldn't find one.

"Really? Have you had one since.."

He pauses a bit, hoping you would get what he was trying to say.

"Little flings. Nothing serious." You say bluntly. Waiting for a few papers to print.

"Ever plan on settling down?"

You hesitate to answer with the truth, but you do.

"Don't think I'm gonna find anybody." You place a few papers in front of Lando.

"Sign these"

He takes the papers and signs them where it tells him. Hes not exactly sure how to keep talking to you. The air around you both was very awkward.

"That's.. sad. I'm sure you'll find someone, though. I didn't think I would, but now I'm about to propose."

Your lips purse together. You were noticeably uncomfortable, grabbing the papers in front of him and putting them away in a file.

He could tell that you weren't interested in the conversation, but what he was saying wasn't untrue. He thought it might be a bit better if you both got lunch together.

"Do you wanna.. get lunch maybe? Catch up?"

You open your mouth to talk, but quickly shut it afterwards. Hesitating.

"I.. I don't think I can do that to myself Lando."

"Can I ask why?"

You saw the look of confusion on his face. Did he think you both could just.. be friends?

"Let's not do this now." You flipped the card machine towards him.

"No, please.. we need to." He pleads with you, trying to get you to open up.

"Pay for the damn ring Lando."

Your tone is stern. You felt like you were about to cry.

He's slightly hurt by the sternness in your voice, but alas he does what he's told and pays for the ring.

"Can we talk now?"

"Fine. Follow me."

You lead him into the breakroom of the store. Closing the door slight, leaving it a bit cracked.

"Why can't you get lunch with me?"

He's very confused. It's been 4 years. He just wants to catch up. So much has happened since then.

"I.. I never got over you Lando."

He looks at you surprised. How was he supposed to know? He had assumed after all these years you would've moved on by now, but you haven't.

"You..-You're still in love with me?"

You look back up at him, tears starting to pool into your eyes.

"I told you. I never got over you."

You tried to keep your voice from breaking but it was a lost cause. Your feelings for him never died, only dimmed a little, but since he walked throught that door, they had lighten back up.

"Y/n.. I..-I don't know what to say."

You don't know why you had hope. The tinyist bit of hope that he might still love you. He broke up with you because he didn't love you. A few tears rolled down your cheek.

"You're an..-an amazing person, Y/n. You deserve someone who loves you. Someone that's not me."

You were silent for a little before you spoke up with a question.

"Lando..I need to know..-"

You paused, trying to find the right words.

"When did you lose feelings..?"

You could see Landos body stiffen, as I he was dreading this question. He knew he had to be honest.

"Um.. a year.. before we broke up."

A year? He led you on for a whole year? He pretended for a year that he loved you like you loved him. Forced 'I love you's, forced kisses, forced smiles, forced everything. Tears steadily fall down your cheeks.

"You..-You led me on.. for a year..?"

"I'm so sorry."

Was all he could muster up. You felt like your was getting the life squeezed out of it.

"Why didn't you do it sooner?"

"What difference would it have made? We still would've broken up."

You can't believe those words just left him mouth. Did Carlos never tell him?

"The night you had broken up with me was the worst night you could've done it. I was in Brazil. I was going to surprise you. I had quit my job to be there for you and you told me you didn't love me anymore. Do you know how hard it is to hear that? I had quit my job to travel with you, but I did it for nothing."

He looked surprised, which you understood. He didn't know you were in Brazil at the time. He was silent. Not knowing what to say.

"I..-Im sorry."

"Save your apologies, just leave, please."

Your face was stained with tears, and your heart hurt so incredibly bad. A year. A year he had led you on. You were so incredibly in love with him you couldn't even tell how he was faking everything, and it made you feel so bad about yourself. You let love blind you.

"Bye, Y/n."

You watch as he turns for the break room door. Opening it so he can walk out.

"Goodbye, Lando."