#pls let me know what you think messages are what make the world go around

[didhewinkback]

chug

a something old blurb about the beer whale (whale beer?) (wheer?) (bhale?)

warning: slight smut at the end bc i know thats what the people come to see

---

“Just stand where I can see yeh’” was the request he mumbled into your hair before kissing you on the cheek and heading to the huddle, leaving you free to roam, beers in hand, determined to enjoy the show from a new vantage point, surrounded by the crew members you’ve gotten to know and love over the years. 

You spent the first half with Sandy and Sarah and the catering legends, giggling and dancing to the songs you all knew like the back of your hand at this point, locking eyes with him when he brought out Wet Leg, big smirk on his face as he sauntered up to the mic, eyes burning into yours while he sang one line of the chorus over and over, fire in his eyes when you sang it right back to him. 

You duck down to the front of the stage for the second half, ensuring the lads were well hydrated with water and beer alike, feeling like your heart was going to burst watching him have the time of his life on that stage. In utter disbelief at what the past two and half years have been for him and you both, watching him soar to new heights you always knew were possible but couldn’t imagine seeing play out in real time, the boy whose school band played at your 15th birthday party now singing to stadiums across the world, loving every second and being loved in return. 

He’s at his best when he’s up there, his big, open heart ripe for the taking, making the crowd of thousands feel like a small room of his closest friends, relishing in the attention, the screams, the insatiable energy, gratitude radiating out of every fiber of his being. It’s enough to make you weep when you think about it for too long, an impossible to articulate experience of watching the person you love most in this world achieve their dreams over and over again. 

It’s overwhelming, mind-blowing and also really fucking fun, you think, cheers-ing with the lads as you started another round of beer (it is the end of tour after all), watching as Harry runs across the stage, picking up his water bottle, poised for the classic whale, almost like clockwork. But this time, he pauses, doing a quick double take when he sees you down front with the crew. 

He gestures to your half drunk cup, ushering it towards him as you hold it up to the cheers of your group, Brad’s long arms aiding the transfer as Harry takes it from him and after smiling back at the band, downs it in one go, much to the delight of the lads. They’re goading him on, chanting his name, but everything whites out around you as all you can focus on is the way his throat moves, the beer that misses his mouth falling onto his naked chest, dripping down in a way that makes you feel warm all over. Never one to mind a messy face.

It’s over in seconds but feels like it went on for ages, a time bending effect he always seems to have on you. He winks at you before placing the cup down, facing the crowd fully as he spits it into the air, wide grin on his face as you all cheer before he runs to the other side of the stage.

It’s much later, after the final songs, the emotional thank yous, the celebratory post-show drinks on the beach with the whole crew, that you stumble into bed together, both a bit drunk off the booze and each other, burning up from one too many lingering stares across the party, whispered conversations about how good he looked up there, your beer all over him, his ripped chest gleaming in the spotlight. He’s pressing you into the mattress in record time, hands sliding all over your body as his lips leave their mark on your skin, breath catching at the never-ending stream of praise leaving your mouth as you get lost in each other, in this night, consumed by overwhelming pride and love and the carnal need to have each other close. 

“You’re proud of me, huh?” he grunts into your ear, hand sliding down your thigh to hike it up around his hip, the new angle making the both of you moan out loud. “Y’ love me?”

“Yes, H. Fuck. So much, I -”

“Want y’ to show me,” he says, voice deep in your ear as he smacks a kiss to your cheek, your temple, biting at your lips while his hands slide up your body, interlacing your fingers to hold your hands over your head, his chest sliding against yours. “Be my good girl and show me how proud y’ are, how much y’love me. Want to see it. Want to feel it. C’mon baby, show me -”

So you do. 

Again.

And again.

And again.

---

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[arolesbianism]

Alright boys pack it up no more rain world posting new oni dlc is coming out in less than a week

[lcvclywon]

in sickness and in health

back to masterlist

synopsis After a long fight with Jay you find yourself giving him the silent treatment. Leaving you curled up alone sick in your room, with your only comfort being the instant tteokbokki you had microwaved for yourself earlier. However it seems Jay knew where to be and what to say at exactly the right times.

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of sickness, mentions of kissing, pet names (honey), slight angst, I made YN as the 6th member of lesserafim so that the whole same building thing made sense so...js roll with it pls 😁, also not proof read!, slight fighting

genre ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊�� ⋅ hurt to comfort

pairings: idol!jay x idol!reader, established relationship

wc ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ around 1.14k

thoughts frm yuya 💭 i know i said i was gonna go on a hiatus but i needed a serotonin boost from writing after doing a horrendous maths paper.... so semi hiatus i guess ^^ anywaysss this drabble has been rotting in the back of my mind for a while soo here u are, i'm a huge huge HUGE sucker for hurt to comfort tropes so >,<

A week. It had been a week since you and Jay had a massive argument causing the two of you to give each other the silent treatment for god knows how long. However, as if the world was out to get you, the next morning after the fight you had been plagued with a sickness that you couldn’t quite pin down, all you knew was it left you bedridden until Friday. 

Due to said sickness, you obviously couldn’t join your group for schedules and barely entered the building for dance practice. You hoped Jay would at least notice your absence, send a message asking where you were or something. But to your dismay, radio silence.

“Who cares about some stupid guy anyways…” Grumbling under your breath you reached for your chopsticks to skewer another rice cake from your measly plate of instant tteokbokki and shovel it down your throat. Maybe excessive spice you couldn’t handle and soft pillowy rice cakes could solve all your problems. 

Ding dong! Weird, you didn’t think the members would be back this early? 

Begrudgingly ripping the covers off and placing your bowl back on your table, you went to the door. Hair still an oily mess from not showering properly and clothes stuck to your body from sweat, you clearly weren’t in pristine condition to be meeting anyone. Please don’t be a delivery man, please don’t be a delivery man.

However, after opening the door, you found yourself standing in front of the one person you’d been longing for the whole week. Park Jongseong. Your gaze softened slightly and a small smile crept onto your lips, but then you remembered that you were still mad at him. Fighting the urge to embrace him and cry out for his name, you plastered on a stoic expression of indifference. 

“What are you doing here.” 

“Chaewon told me you were sick,” he said before entering into your dorm, not bothering to wait for you to let him in.

Making his way over to the kitchen he placed a white takeaway bag onto the counter before emptying its contents onto the table: a warm bowl of your favourite porridge and a cup of tea from your favourite cafe. 

“What’s this?” positioning yourself in front of Jay, you scanned the table to see the numerous small boxes of side dishes sprawled across. 

“Porridge, it’s good for you when you’re sick.” he replied before shooting his head over to the remnants of your tteokbokki “Honey why are you eating tteokbokki, you’re sick you shouldn’t be eating instant food.” he scolded before reaching over throw your lukewarm leftovers in the trash.

“It’s not that bad…” you mumbled whilst picking at the side dishes “And why do you suddenly care, thought you weren’t talking to me” Scoffing you shot him a dirty glare. 

“Correction, you weren’t talking to me; I thought you needed some space, as you usually do after a fight.” well he wasn’t wrong, you did express to him that after arguments you wanted some time to cool down by yourself, “and also, I’m not ‘suddenly’ just caring YN. Who do you think Yunjin got all those drinks, medicines, and snacks from.” 

Oh… so she didn’t buy them herself. Your gaze reached his eyes as you felt your heart soften slightly, “Okay, well you could’ve sent me a text or something. You could’ve come here and given it to me yourself, why today out of all days do you decide to come huh?” meeting your glossy eyes, Jay could tell how hurt you were over his actions. He couldn’t deny that it pained him to see you this upset. 

“Okay look, I’m sorry. I wanted to come over, but Sakura said whatever you caught was contagious and that you isolated yourself to make sure you got nobody else sick. As I mentioned earlier, you told me you liked to have time to cool down after fighting, but it was stupid of me not to even try to text you. Today it all just-” Jay stopped his rambling, catching his breath before sighing out, “I just really missed you YN” 

That was all the confirmation you needed to run into his arms and hug him so tight he didn’t even think about leaving again. Jay was quick to reciprocate, arms wrapping around you to engulf you into his warm embrace, head buried into the crook of your neck whispering sweet nothings. 

Breaking away from the embrace and tilting your head up you were graced with a warm and familiar smile painted across Jay’s face; a smile you so badly missed the entire week. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” you said with a pout 

“Promise I won't honey,” his hands reached to cup your face before adding, “Only if you promise to stop eating that stuff when you’re sick.” 

“Hey, it’s yummy! I can’t help it that I can’t cook soup or anything, tteokbokki has never failed me.” 

“Guess I’ll have to keep bringing you food then.” he replied with a smirk

“Well, I could use a personal delivery man.” giggling you reached up to mirror his actions, cupping his face with your warm hands. 

“Oh really, would a delivery man do this?” and with that he pressed a playful peck onto your lips; soft and gentle, something you missed dearly. 

“Jay!” you exclaimed, “You can’t do that, you’ll get sick!” 

“So. What.” he said between pecks, peppering your face with kisses as you giggled and placed your hands on his chest to try and push him away. Pulling away he looked into your eyes with a warm and gentle gaze, smiling softly before leaning in to give you a proper kiss. Feeling the worry of your sickness transferring to him vanish, you melted into the kiss whilst wrapping your arms around his neck. In response, his hand found its way to the small of your back while the other reached up to cup the back of your neck. It always astonished you how easily he could pull you into his orbit, almost made you forget about the soreness of your body and the fever plaguing you. 

Retreating back he giggled at your pouting face. “I’d love to continue, but I wouldn’t want the food I bought you to get cold” intertwining your fingers with his, he led you over to a chair before sitting you down. “Let’s eat okay?” he muttered before taking his spot right next to yours, hand still intertwined with your fingers. His other hand however reached over to spoon you some porridge, moving the utensil closer to your mouth. 

You happily bent forward to enjoy the bite he crafted for you, an all too familiar sensation bubbling up within you—a warmth you could only describe as, home. Jay felt like home. And you hoped he would for the rest of your lives.

perm taglist ♡ (send an ask to be added!) @floweryang

[rafesangelita]

🍪; lover, you should have come over by jeff buckley

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 “sometimes a man must awake to find that really he has no one. so i’ll wait for you, love.”— in which rafe never took your relationship seriously when he had you, so you left the island in hopes of starting new. however, you’re back one year later, and this time you’re both on the same page.

warnings: second chance au, implied age gap, lots of talk about marriage and having kids, angst, time skip, rafe is pretty regretful in this one

a/n: this couldn’t have been a more perfect request! i’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while now. left this one on a little cliffhanger, pls don’t hate me </3 buttttt if requested enough, i’m completely open to making a part two!

wc: 0.6k

rafe knew the night you left him without a word, he was the one entirely at fault. he knew deep down there was only so much you could take before you’d have to realize he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted more than anything else, and that was serious commitment. despite you being slightly younger than him, you valued the more serious, traditional side of things. while rafe was thinking about where he would take you to dinner next, you were wondering if your babies would have his blue eyes.

refusing to be the one to initiate that kind of conversation with him, you held your tongue and enjoyed the time you had with him until your heart couldn’t take it anymore. the final straw for you was when you two were laying together the way you always did post-sex, and rafe revealed to you that marriage would never be in the cards for him. he claimed that he was too much of a possessive person to share you with anyone else, let alone children, and you swore your heart broke in two.

“you don’t want to get married.. like ever?” you gazed up at him with those fucked out eyes of yours, just hoping he wouldn’t say the words that would give you confirmation to let him go. “no. i know a lot of people say this, but it’s true; marriage is just a piece of paper.” that night, you remembered every curve and detail of his face, forever engraving his image in your head as you silently slipped out of tanneyhill and didn’t look back. you cried. oh, god, you cried so much. apart of you felt like going back and erasing all desire of marriage and family and just indulge in what you and rafe had, but in no world would that work.

rafe woke up that morning, feeling a profound sense of emptiness he didn’t expect to feel without you near. he recalled the way you looked at him before he fell asleep, like you were never going to see him again. panic set in, his feet moving before he could think. he called your name out, checking every room and bathroom before the harsh reality hit him like a ton of bricks. he called your phone, throwing his own when an automated message said the line had been deactivated.

rafe was in denial the first week. he was sure you’d turn up somehow, somewhere, and wrap your arms around his shoulders while planting kisses on his neck, but you never came. that didn’t stop him from looking for you any chance he got, hoping, pleading that he’d bump into you somewhere and you’d go home with him. when he caught word that you had left the island altogether, he felt hurt, betrayed. how could someone as sweet and soft, and so precious as yourself just vanish without warning?

he didn’t understand, not being able to wrap his head around the fact that you felt like you had to run from him. you were the only thing he had on this god forsaken island. his family, his friends, no one truly knew him like you did. no one recognized his efforts to be a better man, no one comforted him, loved him. he spent his days focused on work, completely shutting everyone out. he was filled with regret, and it was your absence that made him realize marriage was so much more than a legal document.

it was vowing to never take that person for granted, it was carving your love in a stone of history, it was a sacred promise to never leave one another, a sacred promise that he so badly wished to have another chance at. before he knew it, an entire year had passed and just like you, there was nothing he wanted more than a family of his own. scratch that, he didn’t just want it. he dreamt about it, yearned for it just as much as he yearned for you. what he didn’t know, was that it wouldn’t be long until you showed up at his door.

[blog-o-meter]

Making Room - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) follows up on her promise of visiting Nicholas in Los Angeles after their fateful weekend together, excited to see him again, but increasingly finds herself doubting her place in his world.

warnings: 18+, implied phone sex, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, blowjob, cursing, pls let me know what else

required listening: Islands by The XX

word count: 30, 568

a/n: ok ik technically this is a continuation to room 5, but you honestly don't even have to read it, unless you'd like to understand the occasional reference to the beach weekend (I'll link it below). I thought 17k words was long for room 5, but this one had me in a doozy!! this one was mostly for my enjoyment, just to see where the story would take me, but if you happen to enjoy it, awesome!! pls pls pls let me know what you guys think <3

Room 5 (Part 1) | Room On Fire (Part 3) | Room To Breathe (Part 4)

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

Four months. It had been four months since I last saw Nicholas — in person, that is. Since that fateful weekend at the beach, we had been messaging and calling almost every day, which is absolutely insane to think about. Could you imagine what would’ve happened had I not booked that specific hotel on that specific weekend? I’d probably be staring at my phone for a completely different reason, doom scrolling, bored out of my mind. But, now, Nicholas was my reason.

God, we’d text, FaceTime, and call any chance either of us got. I was afraid our conversations would be surface-level at first, like they are with almost every guy I’ve tried to talk to on Tinder or Bumble or Hinge, but I was equal parts surprised and relieved to find that all our talks seemed natural and easy, as if we were best friends in a previous life. It was like we had skipped all of the awkward stages and landed right in the middle of something real, which I hoped would happen, especially after how we met. I think I’d die if Nicholas ended up being a one night stand or failed budding relationship.

It scared me, as much as it thrilled me, to find just how easily Nicholas could get me to open up about anything. He didn’t ask the typical questions one would ask when getting to know someone. We all know the ones, the ones everyone dreads to ask or answer for the millionth time with those potential matches on dating apps that end up going nowhere: what’s your favorite color? What do you do for fun? And the one that personally makes me want to bite my phone in half: wyd?

No, he wouldn’t ask those questions. First, he’d lead in with an anecdote of his own, explaining to me his personal lore as a way to soften me up before he’d ask me the hard-hitters: What were you like as a kid? What is your concept of love? Do you regret anything? All of his questions kept me on my toes, and I mean that in the best way possible. I found myself answering every question he had about me in an unfiltered and honest way, which I don’t think anybody has gotten me to do in years, possibly since the one free therapy session I went to during my first semester of college.

But my favorite question he would ask me on certain late nights was, “Is everyone asleep?,” his voice low and intimate through the phone.

It was a question that made my skin flush, one that made the heat pool low in my belly. My toes would curl under the sheets the moment I’d hear his breathing become deeper and deeper, pressing my ear to the phone as close as I could so I could hear every idiosyncrasy in his breath.

“Yeah, why?” I’d innocently ask, though I knew exactly where his question would lead to.

“Good,” he’d murmur, his voice dropping to a whisper that made my heart race. “Then it’s just you and me, right? No interruptions?” I could almost hear his hand graze down to the waist of his jeans through the phone.

If phones still had cords at the end of them, I’d be twisting the hell out of it around my finger. “No interruptions,” I’d whisper back.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he’d confess softly, the words almost tangible through the phone.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” I’d reply, my voice barely audible as I’d reach for my underwear under the sheets.

“You have no idea how much I want to be there with you right now, (Y/N),” he’d continue, his voice rich with longing, “To touch you… to feel you….”

The words would send a jolt through me, a wave of heat rushing to my skin as I’d shift around in bed, biting my lip at his voice. It was hard to hold back when he knew all the right things to say.

The killers, though, were the selfies he’d send. It had started innocently enough: a picture of him holding up his coffee one morning with the caption, 'Good morning, beautiful.' But then it escalated. Tousled hair and sleepy eyes at the end of a long day, shirtless mirror selfies after a workout; he knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn't shy about it.

>> just something to tide you over

He’d tease over text. I couldn’t feel his muscles taut under my fingers through the phone, but I’d look at the shirtless picture he’d sent and my face would flush all the same. And every time, l'd reply:

> You’re torturing me, you know that?

To which he'd say:

>> Good. Now you know how I feel every time I hear your voice but can't touch you.

Somewhere between the steamy exchanges and long, deep conversations, I found myself trusting Nicholas in ways I hadn’t trusted anyone in years. And yet, the more I opened up to him, the more terrified I became. This wasn’t some casual crush I could move on from after a few weeks. Nicholas had become something more; he mattered to me deeply, and I ached for him in ways I couldn’t possibly fathom. There was only so much back-and-forth I could take until one day, when I finally told him:

> I can't keep doing this, Nic. I need to see you.

I watched as the typing dots appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared. Finally, his reply came through.

>> I’m booking you a flight to LA.

> like actually?

>> yes. I need you here with me. No more waiting.

Some part of me thought that he was still joking, but when he sent me a screenshot of my digital boarding ticket just a few minutes later, I could’ve sworn my heart didn’t just skip a beat — it stopped completely. The ticket was dated for the next week, an early morning non-stop flight from my hometown to LAX Airport with a return date of just a few days later. 4 days in LA. Nicholas was dead serious.

A smile tugged at my lips, but it was quickly followed by a wave of nerves. After months of teasing such a trip, it was happening. I was going to fly across the country to see him, really see him, for the first time since that weekend at the beach. I felt a mix of excitement, anxiety, and anticipation settle in my stomach. Though, I was most excited to be able to feel Nicholas again.

Thankfully, my boss was a pretty understanding guy. I never really had to ask for “permission” whenever I wanted a day off; I just had to let him know a few days in advance that I’d be out so he could adjust tasks accordingly. And so, I let him know that I’d be out on Thursday, and that was enough to cover my bases. What stressed me out, though, wasn’t missing a day of work, it was the packing.

I had never been to California, let alone fly to another state to meet up with a guy. What does one even pack for that? What would we even been doing on said trip? Museum dates? Beach dates? We did meet at a beach. And then there was the lingerie situation — should I even pack it? Would that make me look presumptuous? Though, Nicholas had been more suggestive over text lately…

By the time Wednesday night rolled around, I’d somehow managed to stuff four days worth of clothing into a single carry-on while convincing myself I’d forgotten something essential. Toiletries, toothbrush, extra underwear, passport, wallet. Toiletries, toothbrush, extra, underwear, passport, wallet. Toiletries, toothbrush, extra underwear, passport, wallet. I double-checked my bag about three times before deciding I was overthinking it. Still, my nerves didn’t settle.

All I kept thinking about, kept counting down to, was the moment I landed safely in Los Angeles and had Nicholas in my arms again. I had been thinking about the way he held me, his teasing, and his beautiful smile ever since we met. Thankfully, we existed in an era of smartphones, and I could just wait for a FaceTime call from him to satisfy my desire for a moment.

Nicholas made sure to express the same sentiments any opportunity he could, too. The night before my flight, he called me while I was lying in bed, my heart racing too fast to be able to properly wind down.

“Are you packed?” he asked, his voice smooth and reassuring, but with an underlying excitement that matched my own.

“Since yesterday,” I said, rolling onto my side and staring at tomorrow’s outfit neatly folded on my desk chair, my luggage zipped and ready to go. “I feel like I’m forgetting something, though.”

“Even if you did, don’t worry too much. Just bring yourself; that’s all I need,” he said softly, and my stomach flipped at how sincere he sounded.

I smiled, burying my face in the pillow to hide the ridiculous grin I was wearing, even though he couldn’t see it. “I swear, it’s like you get all your lines straight from a romance novel.”

I could hear his smile through the phone, “Maybe I’m just a romantic.”

“Yeah, booking a flight for a girl you met four months ago might’ve given that away,” I teased, rolling over to the other side of the bed.

“Hey, you’re the one who said you needed to see me,” he shot back, a playful lilt in his voice. I could hear him shuffling items on the other side, the clank of something on a wooden surface followed by the occasional spray of some liquid, “I’m just being accommodating.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault,” I replied, laughing softly into the receiver.

“Absolutely,” he said, the smirk in his voice unmistakable. “If it were up to me, I would’ve booked that flight for you the moment I was back in LA, but I didn’t want to push. I wanted you to feel ready.”

He always seemed to know the right thing to say, the perfect balance of sweet and thoughtful without crossing into saccharine. “Well, I’m definitely ready now,” I admitted, my voice softer now.

“Good,” he sighed, “because I don’t think I could’ve waited any longer.”

“Just a few more hours, and I’m all yours,” I murmured through the phone, daydreaming about the moment I could be with Nicholas again.

He sighed longingly, mumbling, “All mine.”

I’m not sure how it would be the moment we saw each other. Yes, we had a wonderful day together that weekend at the beach, but a part of me thought what if we lost that in-person magic we had back then? There was so much riding on this trip. What if things felt… different once we were in person again? I mean, this would be our first time staying an entire weekend together.

I had planned on staying at a nearby hotel, but Nicholas insisted on him hosting me so he could spend every second, both waking and sleeping, with me. After all, it would only be a few days and it would save us some time from waiting around in traffic driving back and forth, so he said. As much as I loved our night together at the beach, that was exactly it — just one night. This was three nights and four days at his place.

The line went quiet for a moment, the kind of silence that wasn't awkward but charged. It was the kind of silence that let you feel every unspoken word, every unsaid thought hanging in the air. I could hear him breathing on the other end, the sound steady and rhythmic, and it somehow soothed the storm of emotions brewing inside me.

That next day couldn’t have been any more stressful for me, and I didn’t particularly appreciate the universe’s sense of humor. The security line at the airport looked short but was taking agonizingly long to get through. I’d glance down at my watch almost every minute thinking that would magically help pass the time. And it wasn’t just me. I could see everyone else in line starting to get anxious, too. You’d think an airport in a small town would be easier, faster, and less stressful, but no, it wasn’t.

And of course, once I did get through, my tray of items was randomly checked. It was like the TSA agent knew my stomach was in knots about today, taking their precious time to open my luggage and sift through my stuff. I stood there helpless, trying not to fidget as the agent meticulously examined my bag. Finally, the agent gave me a curt nod, zipped up my bag, and handed it back to me.

I didn’t even bother to politely smile back like I usually do; I just grabbed my things and power-walked toward my gate, which, of course, was all the way at the opposite end of the terminal. My heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest as I weaved through the small crowds of fliers. When I finally reached my gate, I was out of breath and sweating, but I had made it just in time with the final group starting to board.

Just as it was my turn to scan my boarding pass, the gate agent halted me, politely smiling, “It looks like we just ran out of cabin space. We’re going to have to check in your carry-on.”

I sighed, one of resignation more than anything else. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about looking for any cabin space and carrying this heavy hunk of clothes over my head. Nodding my head, I said, “Of course,” smiling politely.

I watched as one gate agent scanned my ticket while the other wrapped a paper tag around my luggage. As I walked through the gate and boarded the plane, my nerves didn’t let up, and they didn’t dissipate the entire four hour flight either. I tried to nap, I tried watching a movie, I tried listening to music, I tried reading a book, and I even tried to distract myself with the in-flight snacks. Nothing could get me to calm down, and it didn’t help that the flight was particularly bumpy.

However, when the plane began to descend down into Los Angeles, some of my nerves started to let up just a tinge. I had never been to Los Angeles, so flying over the city was a treat. The sprawling cityscape stretched endlessly beneath the plane, glittering under the bright California sun. The ocean sparkled in the distance, a deep blue that reminded me of back home, reminded me of that weekend I met Nicholas. It also reminded me that somewhere amongst those highways and palm trees, he was waiting for me. I made sure to take some pictures of the skyline before the plane descended further.

My stomach flipped as the plane wheels hit the runway, the vibrations jolting me out of my thoughts. This was it. I was here, in his city, and in just a few minutes, I’d be wrapped in his warm embrace again. Yet, as much as I tried to hold on to that comforting thought, I couldn’t quite shake the nagging voice in my head questioning how I fit into all this. His city. His world.

As I disembarked, the nerves came rushing back in full force. I fiddled with the strap of my purse, glancing around as I entered the terminal. LAX was as chaotic as I’d expected from seeing so many movies — crowds of people swarming the gates, families reuniting, fashionable friend groups all excitedly walking to their gates, the occasional couple running across the terminal trying to catch their flight, businesspeople striding purposefully to their next destination. The energy in the air was frenetic, and for a moment, I felt swept up in it.

But beneath the excitement, a strange unease crept in. By sheer law of probability, I knew it might also be their first time in Los Angeles for some of these people, but try as I might, I still felt out of place. Everybody seemed so important here, as if they were meant to be part of something bigger — chasing careers, dreams, or maybe just the California sun. It made me wonder about myself. Nicholas was fond of me enough to invite me out here, I knew that much, but was I just tagging along for the ride? Or could I fit in, truly fit in?

I tried to follow the arrows to baggage claim, but my mind was so out of whack that I couldn’t even remember what direction the arrows pointed at once I had passed the large signs. I ended up having to follow a group of people from the same flight and pray they were making their way to baggage claim, too. Thankfully, though, my gamble paid off, and I ended up at the carousel watching the luggage trickle out of the abyss in the wall. My tiny carry-on stuck out like a sore thumb, an obnoxious flurry of colors in a sea of huge black and gray suitcases.

The hum of conversation and the screech of suitcase wheels filled the air, but I couldn’t focus on anything but finding my bag and, beyond that, finding Nicholas. My heart thumped in anticipation. I pulled my bag out of the carousel and looked around for Arrivals, finding my way to a set of glass doors that led outside. I fished for the phone in my purse, my hands shaking as I looked for Nicholas’s contact and tapped on ‘Call.’

The phone rang once before Nicholas picked up, his voice immediate and warm, cutting through the noise of the bustling airport. “Are you here?” he asked, his excitement palpable. “Do you see me anywhere?”

I glanced around, the bright California sun blinding as I stepped out of the terminal and onto the curb. The air was warm and carried a faint scent of jet fuel mixed with something floral, almost citrusy. “I’m looking,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the nerves threatening to make it crack. “Where are you?”

“I see you,” Nicholas said, and before I could process what he meant, I caught sight of him walking toward me.

The world seemed to blur around me, slowing down as my focus narrowed to solely him. He was taller than I remembered, or maybe it was just the setting that made him feel larger than life. His dark sunglasses couldn’t hide the grin on his face as he wove through the crowd, his casual outfit — a fitted white t-shirt under a brown leather jacket and baggy light-washed jeans — making him look effortlessly put-together. The jacket clung to his broad shoulders, and the way his shirt skimmed his chest made my heart race faster than I’d like to admit. His hair, a little shorter than the last time I’d seen him, caught the sunlight in a way that made him seem almost unreal, each strand gleaming like something straight out of a movie still.

Even in the chaos of the airport, he moved with a calm confidence that was magnetic. His walk was quick and purposeful, choosing the perfect opportunities to weave himself between the people bustling past him, his long strides closing the distance between us in seconds. The faint scruff along his jawline was new, a rugged addition that only added to his allure. He looked like he belonged here — in this city, in this moment — and the closer he got, the harder it was to remember to breathe. I was in utter awe.

And then he smiled — a full, radiant grin that reached his eyes and made me weak in the knees. He pulled off his sunglasses as he approached, his piercing gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made the noise of the airport fade into nothingness. I missed seeing those big, brown eyes of his in person. Our video calls could never quite capture the shimmer in his eyes properly.

“Nic,” I breathed, smiling, barely able to get the word out before he closed the distance between us.

I expected a hug, but when he pulled me close by the waist and picked me up off my feet and spun me around in his arms… God, I felt like a princess. The chaos of the airport faded into white noise as I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing him in; he smelled like cedarwood and a hint of something sweeter, maybe vanilla. His arms around me were firm, safe, and for the first time in months, the ache of longing I’d carried with me felt like it had finally eased. All that trouble going through the airport was absolutely worth it.

He set me down gently, his hands gripping my waist as he lowered his head for a kiss. The moment his lips met mine, I melted into him. His kiss wasn’t tentative or questioning; it was sure, full of longing and unspoken promises. It was the kind of kiss that said, Fuck, I’ve missed you. My hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, holding on as if I might float away if I let go. The warmth of his palms on my waist grounded me, his touch both possessive and reassuring.

I moaned quietly into the kiss, running my fingers through the back of Nicholas’s head, his hair soft under my fingertips. The kiss deepened for a moment, his lips moving against mine like we had all the time in the world, like we weren’t standing on a bustling curb at LAX with people rushing past us. But right then, none of it mattered. It was just us, lost in the feeling of being together again.

When we finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath mingling with mine in the small space between us. “Hey,” he whispered softly, smiling, his voice low and rough with emotion as he continued to peck my lips.

“Hey,” I almost sang. My heart was still racing, my cheeks flushed from more than just the California sun. “You’re even more handsome than I remember.”

Nicholas grinned, his thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “And you’re even more beautiful than I remember. How’s that possible?”

I rolled my eyes playfully, blushing at his comment. We stayed there holding each other for a moment. Truthfully, I couldn’t believe this moment was real. Was it real? My hands rested on his chest, slowly moving across to his shoulders under his jacket, like I was trying to make sure Nicholas was really here with me.

Nicholas stifled a quiet chuckle, kissing me again. His laugh sent a comforting warmth through me, melting away the last traces of stress from the flight. I bit my lip to keep from smiling too wide, but it was impossible not to.

He smiled, kissing my forehead, his lips warm against my skin. “Let me take that bag,” he said, nodding toward the carry-on that I had abandoned behind me in the flurry of our reunion.

I shook my head, smiling. “No, you don’t have to—”

“It’s ok,” he interrupted, already reaching for it. “You’re here visiting. Let me take care of you now.”

I let him, because honestly, it felt nice to let someone else handle things for a change. As he grabbed the bag, he reached for my free hand with his other, lacing his fingers through mine. His grip was firm yet gentle, the kind of hold that made me feel steady even as my heart still raced from his kiss.

He led us toward the ragtop car parked nearby. I stood awkwardly off to the side as I watched him open the passenger side door and reach in for something on the seat. When he pulled himself out, he turned around, a huge bouquet in his hands.

The flowers were stunning — an array of vivid colors that seemed to mirror the vibrance of the city around us. Almost every flower under the sun was intertwined with delicate sprigs of baby’s breath, creating a bouquet so large it practically swallowed his hands. The scent wafted toward me, sweet and intoxicating, and I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped my lips.

“Welcome to LA, babe,” he smiled and gave me another kiss as he handed me the bouquet. “I should’ve asked what your favorite flower was before I decided to buy a bouquet, so I just asked them to put as many different ones as they could. I’m hoping one of them is your favorite.”

I smiled, reaching for the pink peony in the middle and placing it behind Nicholas’s ear, “Peonies,” I said as I caressed his cheek.

He leaned into my touch, his hand coming up to gently wrap around my wrist as he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were softer, warmer, and full of something I couldn’t quite put into words. “I’ll remember that for next time,” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection.

He kissed my hand, grabbing hold of the carry-on again and walking around to the trunk. I climbed inside the car, clutching the bouquet in my lap as I heard Nicholas move stuff around in the trunk. The nerves started to creep back in as the reality of the situation hit me again. This wasn’t just another FaceTime call or text conversation. I was here, with Nicholas, for an entire weekend. Everything we’d talked about, teased, and imagined over the last few months was about to become real.

I looked around the car, having never been inside a ragtop before. The interior was sleek and classic, a mix of polished leather and chrome details that gave it a timeless charm. The seats were a deep caramel color, slightly worn in a way that made them look comfortable rather than aged. The dashboard gleamed under the sun, a testament to Nicholas’s attention to detail — or at least, to whoever he had take care of his car.

I ran my fingers along the edge of the seat, trying to ground myself. The bouquet in my lap was vibrant against the neutral tones of the car, and I stared at it for a moment, a nervous energy bubbling in my chest.

The trunk slammed shut, jolting me out of my spiraling thoughts. I looked up just as Nicholas slid into the driver’s seat, his movements effortless and smooth. He turned to me with a smile that instantly calmed my nerves.

“I figured you might want to head straight to my place, settle in a bit before we do anything,” he spoke calmly as he buckled himself into the seat and pulled down his sunglasses over his eyes. “I have so many things planned for us — dinner reservations tonight to start. It’ll just be you and me all weekend,” he smiled as he squeezed my knee lightly before starting the car. The engine roared to life, a low, satisfying rumble that matched the energy of the city around us.

We quickly pulled out of the airport, earning a quiet yelp from me every time Nicholas revved the engine and drove just a few miles over the speed limit. The wind blew against us, my hair flowing back and forth as the car cut through the wind. The sun pierced into my eyes, triggering me to reach into my purse for a pair of sunglasses.

As I looked out into the city, admiring the palm trees and all of the Instagram-perfect shops and restaurants on the way, I felt Nicholas’s hand rest on top of mine. His touch was reassuring, grounding me as the city unfolded around us like a living, breathing postcard. Los Angeles was everything I’d imagined and more — a chaotic mix of glamour and grit, sunshine and shadow, all wrapped up in the hum of traffic and the distant buzz of life happening everywhere at once. As Dorothy said, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.”

The car ride to his place was a blur of cityscapes and conversation. He asked about my flight, teased me about my airport mishaps, and filled me in on some of the plans he'd made for the weekend. It felt easy, natural, like no time had passed since that weekend at the beach.

I turned to him, momentarily losing myself in his profile — the way his jaw tightened as he focused on the road, the way the sunlight caught the edges of his sunglasses. I so desperately wanted to something, anything,, but I held myself back, instead opting to bring his hand up to my lips and gently kiss his knuckles. He smiled, squeezing my hand gently as his eyes focused on the road, bringing my hand up to his lips and doing the same.

I couldn’t deny it. As overwhelming as this moment was — the city, the trip, him — it felt right. I glanced out at the skyline again, letting the rhythm of the car and the warmth of Nicholas’s hand calm my nerves.

As we wound through the streets, the neighborhoods shifted, transitioning from the bustling downtown to quieter, artsy districts filled with murals and trendy coffee shops. The chaos of LAX felt like a distant memory, replaced by a sense of anticipation as Nicholas navigated the narrower streets with ease. The flowers in my lap swayed slightly with each turn, their scent mingling with the faint leather smell of the car’s interior. I stole glances at Nicholas, marveling at how natural he seemed in this city.

When we finally pulled up to a mid-rise apartment building, my breath caught in my throat. The building was modern but understated, like the apartment complexes that seem to be popping up everywhere now. A few potted plants flanked the entrance, giving it a welcoming vibe. It was exactly the kind of place I’d imagined Nicholas living in — stylish, yet approachable.

Nicholas pulled into the parking garage, making his way to a reserved spot near a building entrance, turning to me with a proud but slightly nervous smile as the car’s convertible roof started to close. “We’re here,” he said with a lilt, slipping off his sunglasses and tucking them into his jacket pocket.

We both exited his car. He quickly retrieved my luggage from the trunk and took me by the hand, the sound of the plastic wheels echoing through the concrete structure as he walked us to the entrance. I expected for us to board the elevator, but we continued walking, turning a corner and arriving at his front door. I was so jealous that Nicholas lived in an apartment on the ground floor and so close to the door that led to the parking entrance. Talk about luck. When I lived in an apartment back in the city, I had to settle for a five-story walk up. I will say, though, my calves were killer that year.

Nicholas pulled out his keys, glancing at me with a little smirk as he unlocked the door. I stifled a chuckle, rolling my eyes as I walked in, but my jaw nearly dropped as I took in the space. The apartment was gorgeous — not ostentatious, but carefully curated, with an effortless charm. The open-concept kitchen flowed into the living room, where you could barely tell the walls were a millennial grey from all the colorful posters and furniture that adorned the space. Music posters, some action figures, books on top of books, and the occasional fine art print, nothing flashy but all very thoughtful. A few plants were scattered around, their leaves adding a touch of life to the space.

I shook my head, smiling to myself as I set the bouquet and my purse carefully on the granite countertop near the entrance. I was quiet, looking around and trying to learn as much as I could about Nicholas through all his little trinkets. Careful not to step wrong, I approached the bookshelf, awed by all the things he had on display. There were a few pictures of him on different production sets. There was a Terry McGinnis Batman action figure still in its box. There were so many books that the shelves were starting to warp, most of them fiction with a handful of autobiographies. That’s when I noticed White Oleander sticking out a bit. I turned around to glance at Nicholas, finding him to be leaning against the kitchen counter, eyeing me all over with a smirk.

I smiled, pulling the book out of its spot, “You read it?” The book seemed to be already falling apart.

Nicholas slowly walked over to me step by step, “And I bought the movie.”

“Really?” I asked, pleasantly smirking as I put the book back on the shelf.

I felt his hands settle on my waist as he stood behind me, his breath warm against the shell of my ear as he pulled me closer. My breath hitched slightly, the pit of my belly starting to ache. 

“This amazing girl told me that the writing was… poignant,” he smiled against my ear, pressing a kiss.

As I trailed my fingers across the row of books, Nicholas slipped his under my shirt and brushed over my stomach, my abdomen slightly twitching involuntarily. His touch was gentle, almost tentative, like he was testing the waters. A shiver ran through me as his fingertips brushed against my skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning back slightly into his chest, the weight of him grounding me as his arms circled around my waist.

"Did you like it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, fighting to keep my composure. The ache in my belly grew stronger with every second his hands lingered on me, and it was becoming impossible to ignore the way my body responded to his presence.

Nicholas smiled, his lips grazing my ear as he spoke. "I loved it." He placed a kiss on my neck, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

A soft gasp escaped my lips as Nicholas's kiss deepened against my neck, his breath warm and steady, the scrape of his light stubble adding a tantalizing roughness to the tenderness of his touch. My fingers instinctively gripped the edge of the bookshelf for support, my knees threatening to buckle as he pressed himself closer to me.

The scent of him — that intoxicating mix of cedarwood and vanilla — was heady, making it hard to think clearly. Every nerve in my body seemed to hum under his touch, each caress of his fingertips against my skin leaving a burning trail that made me crave more. His hands slid slowly upward, tracing the curve of my sides as his lips trailed along the column of my neck, lingering in the hollow just below my ear.

"I missed you," he murmured against my skin, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver racing down my spine, “so fucking much.”. He held me like I was something precious, his movements careful yet filled with purpose, like he didn't want to miss a single moment of this.

I tilted my head to give him better access, my breath hitching as he gently nipped at my earlobe. My own hands moved without thought, one reaching back to tangle in his hair, the other bracing against his arm as if anchoring myself to him. His hair was soft between my fingers, and I found myself threading through it, pulling him closer as my body melted into his. His hands rested on my waist again, fingers splaying wide as if to hold all of me, his thumbs brushing gently over the bare skin just above the waistband of my jeans.

"Nicholas," I breathed, my voice shaky and filled with want.

"Hmm?" His lips curved into a smile against my neck before he turned me around to face him. His ability to pretend he wasn’t being a devious little thing was something to admire.

His hands slid to my hips, gripping just firmly enough to keep me steady, and I finally met his eyes. They were dark and full of something raw. His gaze flicked down to my lips, lingering for a beat before returning to my eyes.

I bit my lip, trying to keep from smiling too much, but it was useless. He leaned down, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat, and kissed me. This time, it wasn't just a reunion kiss; it was deliberate, deeper, and filled with an aching intensity that made the room spin. His hands gripped my hips tighter, pulling me flush against him, and my own hands flew to his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath my palms.

I pulled away to catch my breath, “Didn’t you say we had a dinner reservation?”

A smirk played on the corner of his lips as he stepped closer, cornering me against the bookshelf. He slowly kneeled down, his gaze never faltering away from my eyes as his hands traveled down the sides of my legs.

“We do,” he mumbled, his voice thick with desire. His gaze fell to my groin, “but there’s still some time left. This is more important.”

I swallowed hard, my breath catching as his hands undid the button of my jeans and pulled the zipper down. He hooked his fingers around the waistband of my pants and slowly, he pulled the denim down.

"Nic," I managed to whisper, my voice trembling as I reached for his head, tangling my fingers in his hair.

He smirked up at me, mischief dancing in his eyes. "(Y/N)," he said innocently, though the way his hands wrapped around my bare hips betrayed his intentions, “Let me spoil you, baby,” he said as he started to shower my thighs in slow kisses, spreading my legs apart as he settled between them. 

I couldn't help it; my head fell back against the bookshelf, and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through me. I could feel myself throb harder the closer his mouth inched to my inner thighs. He took his time, his hands and lips moving with a careful deliberation that was both maddening and intoxicating.

My heart was racing, every inch of me on fire as Nicholas's lips trailed lower, brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, but my body was betraying me — my back arching ever so slightly, my hands gripping the edge of the bookshelf, fingers trembling with anticipation.

He paused, his lips hovering just millimeters from where I needed him most, and he looked up at me with that damnable smirk of his — a mix of devilish amusement and raw desire that made my stomach flip. His fingers played at the trim of my underwear, kissing the hem as he pulled them down and let them fall around my ankles.

He knew exactly how to play with me, how to stretch the tension until it was almost unbearable. I bit back a whimper, wanting him so much but also knowing I had to let him have control of this moment - and, god, it was so hard to surrender.

I shifted slightly, my hips lifting involuntarily as his kisses trailed over the crease between my leg and groin, inching closer. His smirk deepened, and he placed another kiss on the soft skin of my thigh, a slow, deliberate action that sent a shiver through my entire body. I couldn't look away from him, the look in my eyes desperate.

"Please, Nic," I breathed, barely able to recognize my own voice, raw with need.

He paused for a moment, looking up at me through darkened lashes, that smirk still playing on his lips. He was savoring the control, the power he had over me in this moment.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice soft but commanding.

I swallowed hard, the tension in the air almost unbearable. "Please," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, aching with desire.

Finally, his mouth found me, and I cried out, my head falling back as his tongue worked magic against my most sensitive spot. He moved with precision, alternating between soft flicks and firm strokes, driving me higher and higher. His hands held my hips firmly, keeping me grounded as my body writhed in pleasure. He was driving me to madness, his tongue creating waves of pleasure that crashed through me, leaving me breathless and helpless. Every sound, every sensation, was magnified, echoing around the apartment as if the rest of the world didn't exist.

"Fuck," I moaned again, my body trembling under his tongue. I clutched at his hair, pushing his head deeper into me as I bucked my hips forward.

Nicholas responded with a low growl, the vibrations sending shockwaves through me. He didn't relent, his movements growing more urgent, more insistent, as if he wanted to pull every last ounce of tension from my body. The pressure built in me, tightening like a coiled spring, and I could barely hold on.

His grip on my hips tightened, his hands now braced against my skin with a possessive heat that matched the fire burning between us. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't focus on anything but the overwhelming sensations he was drawing from me, each flick of his tongue bringing me closer to the edge.

I gasped, eyes fluttering shut as the heat in my body started to build, coiling tighter and tighter. I couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything other than the way he was making me feel, like I was on the verge of completely unraveling under his touch.

"Nic..." I managed to breathe out again, my voice trembling with need. My breath hitched when I felt him pause for a moment, looking up at me with those dark, heated eyes that burned with a hunger I couldn't ignore.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his lips brushing against my skin as he spoke, sending a wave of heat through my already burning body. "So desperate for me."

I felt the heat rush to my face, embarrassment mixing with the overwhelming desire that flooded me. My body was betraying me, trembling in ways I couldn't control. He smirked, sensing my hesitation, but instead of teasing me further, he pressed forward again, his mouth returning to me with a renewed urgency.

The sound of my soft moans filled the room, and I could feel my body slowly spiraling toward release. My grip on his hair tightened even more as my hips moved instinctively, chasing the pleasure he was so skillfully drawing out of me.

“Nic, I can’t—��� I could barely utter a sentence, shutting my eyes as I cried out for mercy. My entire body was tight, every muscle coiled as I teetered on the brink.

He didn't respond with words this time. Instead, he increased the pace of his movements, his tongue and lips working relentlessly to push me toward the edge. And just as I thought I couldn't take anymore, it happened — my body snapped, my breath caught in my throat as the tension finally broke, and waves of pleasure crashed over me.

I cried out, my hands desperately clutching him as my body trembled with the intensity of the release. I tried to stay standing, but my knees buckled under me, my vision becoming blurred as I crumbled down into Nicholas’s embrace.

We stayed for a moment on the floor together as I tried to catch my breath. Nicholas held me close, amused to see me gasping for oxygen. My body was still trembling, waves of aftershocks pulsing through me with every movement he made. And just as I thought it was over, I felt Nicholas shift under me.

His hands traced the curve of my hips before gently pulling me to my feet, “Up," he commanded softly, his voice still thick with need. As he guided me to the couch and urged me to lay down, I watched as he removed his jacket and slipped off his shirt. “We’re not making it to dinner,” he tossed his top aside and climbed on top of me. I smiled, welcoming his weight as he settled on top of me and devoured me in a kiss.

I didn’t expect for Nicholas and I to have sex so soon. Honestly, I thought it would happen at the end of the day, maybe after dinner once we had our bellies filled with food, suggestive conversation, and a glass of wine, but this was perfect, too. I had missed the feeling of being in Nicholas’s embrace. It was more than just physical; it was the way he made me feel seen, cherished, and utterly consumed in the best way possible. There was an intimacy in the way he touched me, how his gaze never left mine as though he could unravel all my insecurities with just a look. It terrified me how easily he could undo me.

Afterwards, I comfortably laid bare on the couch, blissful and entertained by watching Nicholas fiddle around in the kitchen in nothing but his briefs and an apron. I watched him, half-dazed and smiling like an idiot as he hummed to himself, utterly at ease in his own skin. I still couldn’t believe I was with him again.

I stretched my body out, my head resting on a pillow, eyes following his every movement. His hair was still slightly messy from our earlier antics, and the way his apron hugged his waist made me laugh to myself. He turned around with a grin, catching me staring, and raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, playing it cool as he stirred something.

I grinned back, sitting up slightly. “You’re so domestic.”

Nicholas let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he set the spoon down. He walked over to the couch and lowered himself beside me, his hand resting on my thigh. “Well, you know, I like to spoil my lady.” His smile was playful, but there was a certain possessiveness in the way he spoke that sent a thrill through me.

“Home-cooked meal after generous sex,” I smiled and twiddled with the hair near his ear, “You definitely know how to spoil me.”

Nicholas grinned, his eyes softening as he leaned closer, brushing his lips against my temple. "I plan on spoiling you in every way I can. This weekend is all about you and nothing else.”

Whatever he was cooking started to bubble in the pot, prompting him to whip his head toward the stove and walk back over to tend to the food before it was ruined. I smirked, leaning back again, letting my body relax into the cushions and silently thanking the universe for sending me a man like Nicholas into my life. After so much time alone and having my time wasted by unfruitful conversations on dating apps, I told myself I’d give up on finding love. And just when I thought I did, I met Nicholas.

He finally turned off the stove, plating something that smelled amazing. His back was still turned as he set the food on the table, removing the apron and draping it over the back of one of the chairs. I lifted myself up from the couch, reaching for my underwear and Nicholas’s jacket, slipping into both. As I made my way over to the table, the cool fabric of Nicholas’s jacket hanging off my shoulders, I felt a wave of warmth from within. It wasn’t just the physical heat from our earlier moments; it was the emotional pull, the connection I hadn’t realized I’d been craving for so long. As I sat down, I watched him with a smile tugging at my lips, his movements slow and deliberate as he set the dishes down.

He caught my gaze again, his lips curling into a soft, satisfied grin. “Hope you’re hungry,” he said, sitting across from me, a playful glint still in his eyes. His bare chest and tousled hair made him look effortlessly gorgeous, and I couldn’t help but admire him as I picked up my fork to dig into the rotini.

I took a bite of the food he’d made, and my eyes widened. “This is incredible,” I said, genuinely impressed. The flavors were perfectly balanced, comforting yet exciting. Or maybe that was just me being nice to the guy that could manage to make me orgasm multiple times. I think Nicholas could serve me burnt toast and I’d still say it was incredible.

Nicholas leaned back in his chair, watching me with a small, pleased smile. “I’m glad you like it.” His voice softened, the flirtatious edge fading a little as he continued, “I want everything tonight — this whole weekend — to be… perfect.”

I swallowed, meeting his gaze, the warmth between us still undeniable. I reached across the table for his hand, “Tonight is perfect, and I know this weekend will be even more perfect.”

He smiled, grabbing his plate and switching over to the chair next to me, planting a kiss on my cheek as he continued to eat. We ate in comfortable silence for a while, the soft clink of utensils filling the cozy apartment. I felt a deep sense of contentment, something I hadn't experienced in years — or maybe ever. The combination of Nicholas's warmth beside me, the delicious food he'd made, and the intimate glow of the dim lighting felt surreal. I kept sneaking glances at him, marveling at how natural this felt. Though, there was a slight pang in my stomach thinking about how him and I would be out there together for the world to see.

The following morning, I awoke in Nicholas’s bed, tangled in his bedsheets. The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting soft golden light across the room. I blinked slowly, my body still heavy with sleep, and turned my head to see Nicholas beside me. He was lying on his stomach, one arm draped possessively over my waist, his hair adorably mussed. His face was so peaceful, his lips slightly parted, quietly snoring, and I couldn’t help but smile at how boyish he looked when asleep.

Initially, I had told him the guest room was fine, so it didn’t feel like I was completely invading his personal space, but he wasn’t having it. He wanted me to invade his space, any way I could. His persistence had made me laugh, but it also warmed me. It was a little overwhelming, but also thrilling in a way I couldn’t quite put into words. Now, waking up next to him, I realized how glad I was that I’d let myself give in.

For a few moments, I just lay there, listening to the sound of his steady breathing and the faint hum of the A/C. It felt surreal to be here, in his bed, wrapped up in his warmth. The events of the night before played on a loop in my mind, bringing a flush to my cheeks and a soft ache of contentment to my chest.

I tried to slip out of bed quietly, not wanting to disturb him, but the moment I moved, his grip on me tightened. "Don’t even think about it," his voice was raspy with sleep, a little amused, as he cracked one eye open.

I laughed softly, brushing a hand through his hair. "I was going to make some tea."

He groaned dramatically, burying his face in the pillow. "Stay. Tea can wait."

I rolled my eyes but obliged, settling back into the bed and snuggling against his side. He let out a satisfied sigh, pulling me closer. His embrace was addicting, like I never truly knew what an embrace really was until I found myself in his.

"You're too good at convincing me," I teased, running my fingers lightly over his back.

"One of my many talents," he murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to my forehead. "Did you sleep ok?"

“Like a rock,” I smiled softly. “You?”

"Best sleep l've had in months," he said without hesitation, his hand rubbing gentle circles on my back. There was something so genuine about his tone that it made my heart ache in the best way.

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and the quiet morning. But eventually, the promise of coffee and breakfast coaxed us out of bed. Nicholas, ever the gentleman, insisted on taking the lead in the kitchen again, though I managed to convince him to let me help this time. We moved around the space with an easy rhythm, stealing kisses and teasing each other as we worked. I’d reach under him; he’d reach over me — it was like we were partners in some choreographed dance. It felt like we had been doing this for years instead of days.

When we finally sat down with our warm mugs of drink and plates of scrambled eggs and toast, I felt an almost overwhelming sense of contentment. "What's on the agenda for today?" I asked, taking a sip of my green tea and eyeing him over the rim of my mug. 

Nicholas leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “Well,” he began, setting down his coffee mug, “I was thinking we could start with a walk through the park, have a picnic. There’s this little spot that I go to sometimes that I think you would absolutely love. I also know this café we could go to afterwards, and they make a mean cup of tea.” He reached across the table to take my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “And then,” he continued, his tone softer now, “there’s this party tonight, but we’ll go only if you’re up for it.”

I squinted my eyes, thinking about it. It was Los Angeles; wasn’t it obligatory  to attend at least one party while one was in town? Did you ever truly visit if you didn’t? Plus, it could make a heck of a story to share with my friends back home.

“Alright,” I nodded my head slowly, “A party sounds like fun.”

Nicholas’s grin widened, and his thumb stilled for a moment as he studied my face. “I’ll make sure it’s fun,” he promised, his voice brimming with confidence. “But if it gets too much, just say the word, and we’ll leave.”

I gave his hand a small squeeze, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “Deal.”

After breakfast, we moved through the morning in a relaxed, almost effortless rhythm. Nicholas lingered at the table, finishing his coffee while I went to gather my things for the day. I found myself standing in front of my luggage, deciding on what to wear and Nicholas slipped by and made his way into the bathroom, the scent of his cologne and natural musk lingering in the air, mixing with the warm sunlight streaming through the window.

I scanned my options in the suitcase, feeling a little spoiled for choice. We were heading out the entire day, so I wanted to be comfortable but still look put together. After all, this was our first full official day together. The day would most definitely be filled with pictures, selfies, and videos together. Maybe I should wear something he wouldn’t be able to forget. I pulled the lingerie I had packed out from under the folded clothes, and stared at it for a moment. It was a black, floral lacy bra and underwear with a pair of matching stockings, one I had bought over a year ago and hadn’t had the opportunity to wear until now.

Upon hearing the water shut off, I hid the lingerie under the romantic, plum dress I decided on for the day and sat on the bed, waiting for Nicholas to walk out of the bathroom so I could step in. The sound of the shower running had been a constant hum in the background, but now the air was filled with the sound of Nicholas moving around inside.

The door creaked open, and Nicholas stepped out, his hair damp and messy in that effortless way, holding a towel in front of his crotch as he used his other hand to dry his hips off. His gaze met mine, the usual glint of mischief ever present. “All yours,” he smiled, walking over to his closet and loosely wrapping the towel around his hips before reaching in to choose an outfit.

I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips, watching the droplets of water trail down his sides. I reached for my travel bag inside my luggage, “Finally,” I replied, trying to downplay the sudden warmth spreading through me, making my way to the bathroom.

As I showered, the air was filled with the sound of the water streaming out of the shower head and Nicholas moving around in the bathroom, getting ready. The soft rustle of a towel, the occasional clink of items being set down, the sound of a cabinet door or drawer opening and closing — all of it felt so… domestic, like a tiny glimpse of a future I didn’t think was possible for me to have. But with Nicholas, suddenly everything was possible. I bit my lip, trying to ignore the flutter of butterflies in my stomach at the thought of how quickly things between us were unfolding. I’d known Nicholas was someone special the moment we met, but the way he had slipped into my life, so effortlessly… Well, let’s just say I never expected it.

Squeaky clean, I shut off the water, wringing the water out of my hair and brushing off the excess water off my arms with my hands. I slowly pulled back the curtain, knowing Nicholas was still getting ready in the bathroom. My jaw almost dropped at the sight of Nicholas in a loosely buttoned shirt and slacks, looking as sexy as ever. He was standing at the sink, running his fingers through his damp hair, his shirt half-tucked in, showing off the lean lines of his torso. The casualness with which he moved, the effortless coolness of the moment, made my heart skip a beat.

I caught his eye in the mirror, his lips curving into that familiar smirk. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold air hitting my wet skin or his look that made me shiver, but I hugged myself, trembling. He turned to face me, looking me up and down as he grabbed the neatly folded towel atop the toilet tank, stepping closer. I reached my hand out to grab it from him, but he unfolded the towel and reached out for my arm, beginning to dry me.

I stood still, my breath catching at the tenderness in his touch. His fingers were warm against my damp skin as he gently patted my arms, my shoulders, then down my back. His touch felt like more than just drying off — it felt intimate, like he was taking his time to care for me in a way that left me speechless.

He rested his hand on the small of my back and he slowly patted my tummy dry, doing slow, downward strokes as he got down on one knee , his breath tickling my mound, motioning for me to pick up my leg. Shivering, I obliged, watching him dry my foot off before he set it down on his knee, continuing to dry my leg ever so gently.

The intimacy of the moment settled over us like a soft blanket. Nicholas was so focused, his eyes on my skin, his touch so deliberate and delicate, that I felt a shiver run through me. His closeness, the warmth of his hands, it made me feel seen in a way I wasn’t used to. It was like every gesture — no matter how simple — held a deeper meaning, and it was all just for me.

I couldn’t find the strength to say anything in this moment, not wanting to ruin the moment, so instead, I reached out to take my fingers through his hair, slowly and carefully. His gaze flicked up, meeting mine as he finished drying my leg. There was a soft smile tugging at his lips, but his eyes were full of something deeper. My heart thudded in my chest as he reached for my other leg, lifting it with just the gentlest of touches. I sucked in a breath, not sure how to respond, but he didn’t seem to need any words — his actions spoke volumes.

As he finished drying off my legs, his face hovered over my groin for a beat, sending a shiver up my spine. He continued upward, standing straight and wrapping me in the towel, his eyes full of that knowing glint. “There,” he said softly, his voice a little rough. “All dry now.”

I stood there, wrapped in the towel, my skin still tingling from his touch. Nicholas’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

“Thank you,” I whispered, not entirely sure if I was thanking him for drying me off or for something more. For making me feel cherished, for showing me a side of him that felt so intimate and tender.

Nicholas smiled softly, stepping closer, his hand gently cupping my cheek. “Of course,” he murmured, brushing a strand of wet hair behind my ear. “Anything for you.”

I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch, letting the words sink in. They weren’t just kind words; they were genuine, filled with a sincerity that made me feel like I was exactly where I needed to be.

His thumb traced over my lips before he pulled away, giving me just enough space to breathe. “Now, go finish up. We’ve got a whole day waiting for us,” he said, the playful tone returning.

I nodded, finally feeling like I could breathe again. I quickly wrapped the towel tighter around me, stepping past him and making my way back to the bedroom. The room still smelled of Nicholas’s cologne, mixed with the faint trace of my shampoo. I paused for a moment, gathering myself, before I quickly slipped into the outfit I’d picked out earlier, making sure Nicholas hadn’t taken a peek as he finished fixing up his hair in the bathroom.

We then switched shifts; Dressed up, I made my way to the bathroom to finish up everything else while Nicholas stepped out and made his way to the living room. When I emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed and ready to go, Nicholas was already waiting by the door, a tote bag packed to the brim on one hand and the other on the door handle. He glanced over at me, his eyes lighting up in that way that made my stomach flutter.

“Ready, beautiful?” He asked.

I nodded my head, stepping closer to him and kissing him on the lips, “Always.”

By the time we headed out for the walk he’d planned, the city had fully come alive. The park was buzzing with energy — joggers weaving through the paths, families playing with their children, and couples strolling hand in hand, us hopefully being one of them.

As we strolled through the park, Nicholas’s hand wrapped around mine, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against my skin. It was such a simple gesture, yet it felt grounding in a way I couldn’t quite explain. And while the park was vibrant with life, I was hyper-focused on him — on us.

It was four months of midnight phone calls and whispered promises to make the distance work. And yet, the one thing we hadn’t said to each other lingered unspoken between us like a quiet secret.

I love you.

I repeated the words in my head, testing their weight, wondering what it would feel like to say them out loud. As much as I wanted to hear the words spill out of Nicholas’s lips, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to. And though I felt that love for him, I didn’t want to say it either, afraid that somehow this dream might be ripped away from me as soon as I made myself vulnerable to somebody other than myself. What if, to him, I was just a temporary escape from his Hollywood life?

I glanced up at him as we walked, his profile illuminated by the golden afternoon sun. He looked so carefree, so perfectly at ease in this moment. Maybe the same thoughts were running through his mind. He did go through all this trouble for me to be here with him. There must be some part of him that felt love for me, but maybe he was too afraid to say it, too.

Maybe I was overthinking. Maybe it was enough that we were here, together, in this moment. Nicholas had flown me across the country, planned this day, made me feel like the center of his world. Actions speak louder than words, right?

Nicholas led me to a quieter section, shaded by tall oaks and dotted with colorful wildflowers. “This is it,” he said, gesturing to a secluded spot with a perfect view of the lake.

He pulled out a blanket from the tote bag and spread it out under a tree, and we settled in, the soft rustling of leaves and distant sound of the lake water creating a peaceful backdrop. The sun was perfectly striking through the branches, sprinkling us with dots of light.

As we sat there, sharing light snacks he’d packed in advance and peacefully reading our books, I couldn’t help but feel a deep gratitude for moments like this, where it’s just Nicholas and I, nobody else — not a fan, not somebody we know interrupting us, and certainly not strangers. I wished him and I could exist in a space outside of time where we didn’t have to worry about anything else. Los Angeles, for all its glamour and reputation, felt distant and strange to me. I’d never imagined myself here, surrounded by the buzz of celebrity and the weight of expectations that came with it. The sprawling city with its perfect weather, glitzy events, and endless opportunities seemed like a dream to most. But to me, it felt like an illusion. It was a strange land. Perhaps I’ve just been so used to home.

I glanced down at Nicholas, who was settled between my legs, the back of his head resting on my stomach as he read his current book, The Great Gatsby. He hovered the book on top of his face, blocking out the bright sun as he read, quietly whispering as he read. He looked so at ease, like this city had embraced him fully. And maybe it had. After all, he was an actor, a rising star. He’s meant for bigger, grander.

Being with Nicholas felt so natural, yet I couldn’t help but wonder how long this bubble of peace and simplicity would last. What would it feel like when I had to face the full weight of his world? The flashing cameras, the probing questions, the unrelenting scrutiny from strangers who would never truly know me or us.

I repeatedly brushed my fingers through his hair, mostly as a way to soothe myself, absentmindedly, the warmth of his body pressed against mine grounding me. I had taken Nicholas’s copy of The Auctioneer for me to read, and I did end up reading the first couple of chapters before abandoning it completely, instead focusing on my fingers raking through Nicholas’s hair and his quiet reading. Being here with him like this, in a quiet corner of a bustling city, was almost enough to make me forget my worries. Almost.

Nicholas turned a page in his book, the faint rustle of paper breaking the tranquil silence. He shifted slightly against me, adjusting his position so the sunlight no longer peeked through the edges of the pages. I continued running my fingers through his hair, letting the motion calm my restless thoughts.

Then, he spoke. Not to me, but softly to himself at first, the words spilling out with the rhythmic cadence of someone lost in the beauty of a line.

“‘So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past,’” he read aloud, his voice low and thoughtful.

The words hung in the air between us, settling over the moment like a warm blanket. I hadn’t read The Great Gatsby since freshman year of high school, but I recognized the line immediately — it was the ending. Hearing Nicholas recite it now, his voice tinged with both awe and introspection, made it feel different. Weightier.

He tilted his head back slightly, glancing up at me from his position in my lap as he closed the book. “You know, I think about that line a lot,” he said, his lips curving into a small, wistful smile. “It’s one of those things that sounds beautiful, but also kind of sad.”

I nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. “Yeah… No matter how hard you try to move forward, something always manages to pull you back.”

“Exactly,” he said, sitting up now, turning toward me with a look of quiet intensity. “Sometimes I feel like that’s me. Like no matter how much I try to live in the moment or look ahead, there’s always something pulling me back. Expectations… I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I love acting so much. I get to lose myself, utterly drown myself in a part for a little while.”

His words hit me harder than I expected. I had spent so much time wondering about his world, about whether I could fit into it, that I hadn’t stopped to think that maybe he had doubts too. Maybe he wasn’t as at ease in all this as he seemed.

I reached out, placing a hand on his cheek, drawing his gaze back to mine. “You know, sometimes it’s okay to let the current carry you, as long as you’re steering toward something that’s worth it.” I was saying the words to Nicholas, but part of me thought that maybe I should be listening to my own advice, though I do have a habit of ignoring my own words.

He blinked, studying me for a moment before his expression softened. “And you’re worth it,” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my forehead.

The words settled in my chest, warm and reassuring. They weren’t the three little words I was waiting for, but they were enough for now.

I stayed quiet, letting his words sink in. I wanted to believe him, to trust that the weight of his career wouldn’t drown out these quiet moments. The thought of being swept into the whirlwind of his life both thrilled and terrified me. And what terrified me most, right now, was the thought of showing up to a party at Nicholas’s side. Could I learn to carve out a space for myself in his world?

That evening, the party was in full swing by the time Nicholas and I arrived. The house was grand, perched in the hills with a breathtaking view of Los Angeles sprawling below, glittering like a thousand tiny stars. Inside, the crowd was composed of people who looked like I should recognize but didn’t, but they looked so well-put together that my mind doubted itself and wondered if maybe I should recognize them. Though, I’m sure I hadn’t seen them anywhere else before.

I looked down at my outfit, thinking to myself that maybe I showed up a little underdressed. But Nicholas said that I looked amazing, and I chose to believe him, for now.

Nicholas, ever the perfect guest, greeted everyone with the same warm charisma that had drawn me to him in the first place. His hand rested lightly on my back as he introduced me to some of his friends, his voice laced with pride when he said my name. For a moment, I felt confident, secure even. If he believed I belonged here, maybe I did, but the bubble burst quickly.

Nicholas had stepped away for just a moment; a friend had asked him to help unload his car with the cases of wine he had gone out to buy, leaving me alone in a huddle of some partygoers, some of them his friends and others some strangers. As I stood in the small huddle, the conversation shifted to some store I had never heard of before.

“Their new smoothie is so good,” a woman in a sleek black jumpsuit and nails for days said, swirling her glass of white wine as she scrolled on her phone with the other hand. She looked effortlessly beautiful. She turned the phone to her friend to show her the smoothie she was talking about, but she didn’t turn it enough for me to earn a peek. I didn’t want to seem like I was invading, so I chose to imagine what the smoothie might look like. Maybe it was some sort of berry concoction with some magical healing powder.

“Right?” another chimed in, laughing. “God, I’ve been going there almost every day just so I can order one.”

I forced a polite smile, pretending to sip my drink, but internally, I was scrambling. What were they talking about?

“(Y/N), what’s your go-to order at Erewhon?” the woman turned to me, her expression friendly but curious.

I stammered, nervous, “What’s Erewhon?”

The question hung in the air for a beat too long, and I felt the energy shift almost imperceptibly. The woman’s perfectly shaped eyebrows raised just slightly in surprise, and the others exchanged subtle glances, their smiles frozen in place before they all erupted into soft giggles, amused mostly.

“Oh, my god. You don’t know what Erewhon is? You absolutely have to go ASAP!” She quickly tapped on her phone and pulled up the brand’s Instagram. “It’s the cutest grocery store. They have the best smoothies. Totally worth the price,” she turned her phone towards me and let me swipe through the account.

“You’d totally love it,” the other girl chimed in, smiling from ear to ear.

I felt my cheeks flush, realizing how out of place I seemed. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on the phone screen rather than the growing sense of discomfort in my chest. Erewhon. A grocery store. I hadn’t even heard of it before. It sounded fancy, cool, nothing like the names of businesses back home.

I managed a small smile as I flicked through the images on her phone, trying to act like I wasn’t completely lost in this world. “Looks… fancy,” I said, unsure if I was trying to convince them or myself.

The brightly lit shelves of health foods and fancy bottles of water didn’t seem like something I’d gravitate towards. Or maybe it was just something I wasn’t used to seeing. After all, my hometown happens to be about two decades behind on all the trends. The fanciest store we have is Target and even then, it hasn’t been updated from its early 2000s red interior. Seriously, it’s like a time capsule compared to the Target in the city.

Another man in the group, dressed in a designer jacket and sneakers that probably cost more than my rent, chuckled lightly. "It's definitely a vibe. You'll have to go. It's kind of a staple here."

I nodded quickly, swallowing my embarrassment. "Yeah, I'll have to check it out." Note to self: research Los Angeles-based health food stores to avoid further cluelessness.

They smiled politely and moved on, their laughter and banter resuming as if l'd never been there. I felt invisible, standing on the periphery of a world I didn't fully understand. A part of me wished I could connect with these people on a more personal level past surface-level smoothies. Maybe then, I could fit in. But how would I even approach such conversation with people I barely knew?

The conversation picked back up, the clinking of glasses and the hum of idle chatter feeling like background noise in my ears. I could barely focus on anything other than the creeping feeling in my stomach, that sense of being an outsider, always trying — and failing — to catch up.

Every topic — from boutique Pilates studios to obscure art galleries — seemed designed to remind me I wasn't one of them. It wasn't their fault, really. They weren't being cruel. It was just a difference in culture.

I had never been good at blending into new circles, and this wasn’t the first time I felt like I was straining to keep up with conversations that seemed so far removed from my own experiences. And yet, I so desperately wanted their approval. I wanted Nicholas to see that I could fit in seamlessly into his life, just as he did mine. I didn’t want my reluctance for new experiences to hinder me, not tonight.

As I scanned the group, I saw an opening. A slight shift in the conversation. Someone mentioned the latest box office hit, a movie that was playing in theaters now. My heart skipped a beat. Movies. I could do movies.

I cleared my throat, trying to gather some courage, and leaned into the conversation. “Has anybody seen The Substance yet?” I said, the words feeling a little foreign in my mouth but carrying a hint of excitement.

Immediately, the conversation turned lively, everybody excitedly talking over each other, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt the knot in my stomach loosen just a little. The conversation flowed naturally from there. More opinions were shared, theories thrown around, and I found myself truly engaged in the discussion. I was no longer the outsider who had been fumbling for the right thing to say. I was just another movie lover in the group, exchanging thoughts about a shared passion.

I caught Nicholas out of the corner of my eye, returning with a crate of wine in his arms, a small smile playing on his lips as he set it down near the bar and approached. He paused, scanning the group before his eyes landed on me. I could see the relief in his face, knowing I was fitting in and enjoying myself. It made me feel more at ease.

As I continued to talk with the group, I glanced at Nicholas once more. He gave me a subtle nod, a silent affirmation that I was doing fine, though he was completely unaware of the quiet storm I had managed to keep at bay just barely.

I spent the rest of the evening flitting from conversation to conversation, doing my best to keep up, trying to shift the conversation in my favor, and it worked a few times, but it was tiring having to muster up all the energy I had to pick out the precise moment to do. As much as I wanted these people’s approval, I just wanted to be with Nicholas, alone, without any of them by our side. I didn’t want the thought of their possible opinions on me to linger at the back of my head any longer. I didn’t want to perform for them anymore. I wanted to be with him.

When I saw Nicholas cross my line of sight on his way to the bar, somehow my brain switched gears, immediately forgetting about the other people in the room. No matter the doubts running through my head, he always managed to soothe my anxieties, even without trying. If I just had him in my grasp, if I could just escape with him for a moment, maybe all of the tension inside me would disappear.

I excused myself from the huddle and crossed the room, making my way over to Nicholas. He was pouring himself a glass of wine, his profile lit warmly by the soft glow of the chandelier overhead. For a moment, I hesitated, watching him swirl the wine in his hand and taking a small whiff. The way he carried himself, so confident and at ease, was mesmerizing. He turned slightly, as if sensing me before he saw me, and when his eyes landed on mine, his face lit up.

“Hey, you,” he said, his voice low and warm, his smile a perfect mixture of relief and affection. “How’re you holding up?”

I returned his smile, taking a deep breath as I reached his side. “Surviving. But I was starting to miss you,” I trailed my fingertips down his arm, my voice quiet and needy.

His eyes darkened slightly at the touch, a flicker of something deeper flashing across his face. He set his drink down and turned his full attention to me, his body angling just enough to block out the rest of the room. His lips curved into that soft, knowing smile I adored, and he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against my waist. “Were you?” he murmured, his tone teasing.

I nodded, leaning in slightly, letting the faint buzz of the party fade away. Mischievously, I looked around the room to see if anybody was looking our way as I placed my hands above Nicholas’s and moved them down from my waist for him to grip my ass.

His breath hitched slightly, clearing his throat, as his hands instinctively settled on my hips, his fingers covertly squeezing. He glanced around the room, making sure nobody was watching, before his gaze locked with mine, the air between us thickening with something far more intimate than the casual conversations happening all around us.

“(Y/N)," he whispered, voice dropping lower as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. "Here?”

A shiver ran down my spine at the sound of his voice, and I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. There was that spark — playful yet full of desire — and suddenly, the rest of the room didn't matter anymore.

“Mhmm,” I nodded my head, my gaze falling onto his lips. I was surprised at my sudden boldness, a mixture of excitement and nerves pushing me through. I just wanted to forget about the conflict inside me, any way I could.

Without missing a beat, Nicholas’s hand slid lower, a quiet promise of things to come, before he gently cupped my face, pulling me toward him for a kiss that was far deeper than the ones we’d shared earlier. This kiss was hungry, needy, and filled with a silent question: Are you sure? And I was. I kissed him back with equal intensity, giving into the moment, knowing that no matter how out of place I’d felt earlier, with him, I was exactly where I needed to be.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, Nicholas’s hand found mine again, his fingers curling around mine like they were meant to be there. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice low, laced with a quiet urgency.

I didn’t hesitate. At that moment, I wasn’t thinking about the awkwardness I’d felt earlier, or about the glossy crowd that surrounded us. I was only thinking about him, about us, and how we seemed to exist in a world of our own.

We navigated through the crowd, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses growing louder as we walked further into the house, finding an unoccupied bathroom. Nicholas pushed open the door to the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder to ensure no one was following us. As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, he turned to face me, his eyes dark with desire. Without a word, he closed the space between us, his hands finding my waist and pulling me closer.

My breath hitched as I felt the heat of his body pressing against mine. His lips captured mine again, this kiss more urgent, more possessive, as if he couldn't get enough. I responded in kind, my hands moving up to his chest, feeling the solid warmth of his body beneath his shirt. The moment felt charged, the world outside forgotten, just the two of us in this tiny, private space.

The cool bathroom air contrasted with the heat building between us as he moved me toward the sink. My pulse raced, the tension in the room palpable as he lifted me effortlessly, setting me on the countertop. The kiss deepened, our bodies coming together in a rush of heat and need. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, desperate for the connection, for the feeling of his body pressed against mine. Nicholas groaned softly, his hands roaming up to tug at my hair, tilting my head back to kiss me with a newfound intensity that earned him a moan from my lips.

He pulled back for just a moment, his breath ragged. "We might get caught," his voice was hoarse, a tinge of amusement in his words.

I panted, smiling, “That didn’t stop you back at the hotel,” I spoke, tugging him closer by his collar.

Nicholas grinned at my boldness, his hands running up my back, pulling me closer as his lips found mine again. There was no hesitation now, no room for doubts or second thoughts. The faint sounds of the party drifted from the other side of the bathroom door, but in this small space, it felt like everything had fallen away. It was just us, lost in each other. 

His fingers brushed the hem of my dress, tugging it gently, as if asking for permission. I didn't need to think twice before lifting my arms, allowing him to slip it over my head, revealing the lacey set l had chosen to wear.

Nicholas's gaze darkened even more, his eyes tracing every inch of me as though he couldn't get enough. He stepped back slightly, his breath shallow as his eyes traveled up and down my body. I sat on the counter, loving the way he was admiring every inch of me with just his eyes. I could feel my heart racing, the pulse of excitement thrumming through my veins as he slowly lifted my leg toward him by the ankle, his touch trailing over my stocking, exploring upwards. His hands were deft and gentle, as if he was savoring the moment.

He made his way closer, settling between my knees and wrapping my legs around his waist, slipping his finger under the strap of my bra and snapping it against my skin, “God, you’re gorgeous.” His other hand grazed my underwear, tracing the lace detailing, “You wear this for me?”

I nodded, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric. I could sense how much he wanted me, and that only heightened the tension building between us. With a teasing smile, I slid my hands down to the waistband of his pants, slowly undoing the buckle and zipper, making sure to catch his eye the entire time.

"Every inch of me is for you, Nicholas," I whispered, my voice shaky with the intensity of the moment.

His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he just stood there, watching me. Then, with a low growl, he cupped my face, bringing me in for a kiss that was both desperate and possessive. He pulled back, brushing his thumb over my lips, watching me as my hands pushed his pants down just enough to free him. I softly sucked on his thumb, brushing my teeth against the tip of his finger.

His hands moved with purpose, each touch a promise, as his fingers brushed along the curve of my thigh, sending a jolt of heat through me. My body arched toward him instinctively, wanting more, needing more. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him back up to meet my lips. "Now," I whispered, my voice barely audible but full of urgency. I needed him — needed to feel him close, connected in a way that words couldn't express.

He looked at me for a moment, eyes searching mine, and then, without a word, he pulled me by my waist toward the edge of the counter, and pulled off my underwear. He looked down at me, licking his hand and rubbing it against my throbbing self to prepare me, not that I needed it. I was plenty wet.

He didn't waste any time, his lips finding mine as he positioned himself between my legs. The tension in the room thickened as he entered me, slow at first, giving us both time to adjust. My breath hitched, and he groaned, his forehead resting against mine as we both struggled to hold onto control. Every inch of him was an overwhelming sensation.We both moved together, the rhythm building, faster, deeper, until there was nothing left in the world but us, lost in the heat and urgency of our bodies. The sound of our desperate breaths, the soft slap of skin, was all we could hear, the rest of the world long forgotten.

Though the music playing on the other side of the wall was somewhat loud, I’m sure anyone who could pass by would be able to hear us. I’m not sure I cared much, but still, I buried my head into his shoulder as he thrusted himself in me, trying to bite back my moans. So focused on being quiet, I accidentally nipped him near the skin of his collarbone. He groaned, tilting his head back, one hand threading into my hair as the other reached for the mirror behind me, bracing himself. Nicholas's breath was heavy, his chest rising and falling in sync with the movement of his body.

As his hand was still tangled in my hair, he pulled me closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he continued to thrust, whispering, "You feel so good around me, baby."

My fingers dug into his shoulders at his words, anchoring myself to him as the intensity of each thrust pushed me further into the edge of my own pleasure. I gasped in response, the sensation of him so deep, so close, that I couldn't form words. Every nerve in my body was on fire, and I wanted him even more. He seemed to know exactly what I needed, his movements becoming more deliberate, coaxing me closer to the edge.

"Nicholas..." I gasped, barely able to keep my voice steady. I moaned softly, my hands gripping him tighter as I felt the heat build between us.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine, steadying his upper body as his hips moved back and forth with urgency, and the pressure inside me intensified. I felt myself teetering on the brink, every inch of my body yearning for release. He intertwined his fingers with mine, pinning my hand against the mirror as he continued to fuck me.

Nicholas looked at me through his eyelashes, his eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, “I-” he started to say, his voice hoarse and raw, but stopping himself, instead closing his eyes.

Then, I opened my mouth to say something, maybe the words he was going to say, but before any words could spill out of me, he kissed me again, his lips devouring mine with a desperate urgency. The world seemed to stop, and I could feel myself falling further into him.

The tension in the room swelled again as I felt my body start to unravel, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. With one final, deep thrust, the tension in my body snapped. I closed my eyes and buried myself into Nicholas, letting go, and with a final, desperate cry, I let the world fade out as the release surged through me.

Nicholas followed shortly after, his name slipping from my lips, pushing the both of us up against the mirror over the counter as the intensity of the moment washed over both of us. He held me tightly against him, his breath ragged, his body still trembling as he pulled me in, kissing me softly, as if trying to anchor both of us in this small, fleeting moment.

For a moment, we stayed like that, tangled together on the edge of the countertop, the heat between us still lingering even as we both tried to catch our breath. It was quiet now, the sounds of the party outside muffled by the thick walls of the bathroom, but in that silence, there was something profound and comforting in the way we held each other.

When Nicholas pulled away slightly, he brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his eyes filled with affection. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the vulnerability in his eyes mirrored by the overwhelming feeling in my own. A smile tugged at my lips as I leaned into his touch, pulling him in for a kiss. Nicholas kissed me back softly, pulling me in closer, his hands gently caressing my back as if grounding us both in the quiet intimacy of the moment. We didn't need to say anything more; everything was already spoken in the silence that enveloped us.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath still shallow, but steady. "We should probably get out of here before someone comes looking for us," he said with a small chuckle, but his voice was still laced with the same raw intensity as before. “We can continue this at home,” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded, my hands running over his chest once more, savoring the warmth of his body.

"Yeah," I whispered, reluctantly shifting off the counter. My legs felt a little weak, my knees buckling slightly, but I steadied myself by placing a hand on his shoulder.

We both took a moment to recompose ourselves, straightening our clothes and smoothing our hair, but even as we tried to act casual, I could feel the electric tension still sparking between us. The connection we shared was undeniable, and I was glad I was able to forget about all those badgering thoughts, even for a moment.

As we stepped out of the bathroom and back into the noise and bustle of the party, it felt almost surreal. The laughter and chatter resumed in the background, but Nicholas and I moved in sync. His arm never left my waist for the rest of the night, a small but constant reminder of what we had just shared.

We said our goodbyes to some of Nicholas’s friends. I was completely in a blissful daze as I watched him do a quick conversation. In that moment, with Nicholas beside me, I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be. The doubts that had clouded my mind earlier seemed distant for now, but it was a distance I was sure to savor. I wanted to exist in that space as long as I could.

As he finished up a conversation with a friend, he squeezed my hand lightly, reminding me that we would leave in a bit and that he hadn’t forgotten. Once he bumped fists with them, he turned his attention to me, smiling.

He leaned down to whisper, “Let’s go, baby,” his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine, and led me toward the door.

We stepped out of the house and into the cool night air, I felt an almost giddy relief wash over me, grateful to finally be out of that house and be with Nicholas alone, without worrying about how I may present myself in front of his friends.

The muffled music and chatter of the party faded behind us, replaced by the quiet hum of the city in the distance. Nicholas kept his hand firmly intertwined with mine, his thumb brushing small circles against my skin as we walked to the car. He opened the door for me, always the gentleman, and waited until I was settled before rounding the car to the driver’s side. Once inside, he reached for my hand again, letting it rest between us as he started the engine. The drive home was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Every now and then, Nicholas would glance over at me, his lips curving into a soft smile that made my chest flutter. The city lights cast fleeting shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and the quiet intensity in his eyes. It was hard not to stare.

When we pulled into the parking garage at his apartment complex, Nicholas cut the engine and turned to face me fully. For a moment, neither of us moved, the silence between us filled with unspoken words and lingering desire.

“Come here,” he said softly, his voice low and inviting.

I leaned across the console, meeting him halfway as his hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me in for a slow, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed or urgent like before, but filled with an intimacy that made my heart ache in the best way.

When we finally broke apart, he smiled. “I have a surprise for you,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure. “C’mon,” he nodded his head out.

I nodded, already unbuckling my seatbelt.

The air between us buzzed with anticipation as we made our way up to his door, his hand finding mine as he unlocked it and led me inside. The door clicked shut behind us, and in the dim light of his entryway, Nicholas turned to face me, smiling, before continuing to lead me to his bedroom.

He motioned for me to sit on the edge while he walked over to his nightstand, pulling something out. He hid it behind his back and he turned around, sitting down next to me. “I was going to wait until our last day together, but tonight seems appropriate,” he quietly chuckled to himself as he brought whatever was behind his back in front of him.

He dangled the most beautiful and delicate gold chain in front of me. The chain sparkled softly in the warm light of the room, its delicate design catching my breath. A small charm dangled from the center — a tiny, flat heart with an N engraved on the back of it. It was elegant, understated, and undeniably beautiful.

“I saw this a while ago,” Nicholas began, his voice quiet, almost shy, “and it just… reminded me of you.” He smiled, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink.

My heart swelled, the words hitting me with a warmth that spread through my entire body. I reached out to gently touch the charm, my fingers brushing against his as I did. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked rapidly, not wanting to cry but unable to stop the overwhelming rush of affection I felt for him. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, his lips captured mine in a kiss that stole all my thoughts away. It was tender and deep, a perfect blend of passion and reassurance, and I melted into him, my hands finding their way to his chest

“Nic..." I whispered between kisses, my voice barely audible.

“Let me put it on you,” he said, unclasping the chain and gently turning me so my back faced him. His hands were warm and steady as he brushed my hair aside, the light touch sending shivers down my spine.

The necklace settled lightly against my skin, the charm resting just above my collarbone. He leaned forward, his lips grazing the back of my neck after he fastened it, sending a jolt of electricity through me. “So perfect,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

I reached up, my fingers lightly brushing the charm as I turned back to face him. The way Nicholas looked at me in that moment made my chest tighten — like I was the only person in the world who mattered to him. His eyes held so much tenderness that it was almost overwhelming.

I leaned in, pressing my lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss, letting the thought of the three words I couldn’t quite bring myself to say float around in my head, debating if now was the right moment. The truth was, I wanted to say it then. I wanted to tell him everything I felt, that every moment with him made me feel more alive, more connected to something real. But the thought of allowing myself to fully fall, when I had never done so before with anybody else, was still holding me back.

His arms came around me, pulling me onto his thighs as if he couldn’t bear to be even an inch apart. I rested my forehead against his, my fingers tangling in his hair as my lips parted.

“Let me show you how much I really love it, Nic,” I whispered, my voice thick with desire.

I could feel the tension shift between us, the weight of the moment thick with anticipation. His hands tightened on my waist, his touch both grounding and electric as he looked up at me, his lips parted slightly, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"Show me," he whispered, his voice low, almost pleading.

I leaned in slowly, brushing my lips against his, teasing him, savoring the way his breath caught and his fingers flexed against me. I kissed him, completely showering him with my love — the corner of his eye, the apple of his cheek, his lips, the edge of his jaw, the stubble under his chin. There wasn’t an inch I forgot to kiss. My lips moved to his neck, trailing kisses along the skin under his collar, tasting him, drawing soft groans from deep in his chest.

I delicately pushed him down against the bed as I unbuttoned his shirt, ripping it open and trailing my fingertips down the valleys of his muscles. His hand gently traced patterns on my back, the other reaching up to brush my hair away from my face, watching me intently.

I moved lower, taking my time, letting my lips explore every inch of his toned chest and abdomen. He let out a soft, approving hum, his eyes half-lidded but focused on me, absorbing every sensation. The softness of his skin under my lips, the way his breath hitched when I found a sensitive spot — it was exhilarating. As I continued, his hand drifted down to rest on my shoulder, a subtle encouragement, though his breathing told me he was trying to keep himself in check. I felt a thrill rush through me, knowing he was at my mercy.

I climbed off of him and continued to kiss him down his abdomen as I moved to kneel on the floor. Nicholas, curious, shifted to prop himself up by the shoulder, but I stopped him, pushing him back down on the bed before I continued to move to the floor.

Feeling the warmth of his skin and the subtle shivers beneath my touch, I lowered my lips to the place just above the waistband of his pants, kissing the hairs that sprinkled up toward his navel. His grip on my shoulder tightened.

"Mm," he squirmed, his voice a little hoarse, and I could hear the raw need in it.

His fingers threaded deeper through my hair, his chest rising and falling heavily as he struggled to keep his composure. It made me feel powerful, and I wanted to keep him on that edge for as long as I could. With a small smile, I pressed my lips just below his navel, feeling the way his muscles tensed under me. His lips curved into a smirk, though his eyes were smoldering, almost desperate. 

I brushed my fingers along his thighs, taking in the warmth radiating from under the fabric separating us, relishing in the way his breath hitched at my touch. I pressed a gentle kiss right above his belt buckle, feeling his muscles jump beneath me. He was barely holding it together, and I could see the tension building, the control slipping away as he let out a soft, helpless groan. His eyes met mine, and there was something different in them now — a quiet kind of surrender that made my heart race.

He hesitated to reach for his belt buckle, instead moving his hands to the bed sheets and clutching the fabric in his fists. Nicholas looked down at me, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, his face a perfect blend of desire and anticipation. I held his gaze, watching as his expression softened and his lips parted, almost as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

I reached for his belt, letting my fingertips brush against his skin just enough to make him squirm as I unbuckled the leather and undid the button of his pants. He shut his eyes and exhaled sharply, his breath quickening. I smiled, enjoying this rare sight of him being completely unguarded, just... waiting.

I unzipped and tugged down at his pants and briefs, pulling them to his ankles and pressing kisses all the way down his legs, slowly making my way up again. I felt him twitch the closer I got to his hard, throbbing member. I took my time, brushing my tongue against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, hovering over him.

Slowly, I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss along his length, feeling him pulse beneath my lips. His body tensed, and he bit down on his lip, stifling a groan as I continued my languid exploration, leaving a series of slow, teasing kisses, each one eliciting a sharper intake of breath.

He opened his eyes, looking at me with a hunger that made my stomach flip. "Please, (Y/N)," he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine. It was all the encouragement I needed.

With that, I spit on his length and took him fully into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip before pulling back slightly to suck gently. His head fell back against the bed, and I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. I knew l had him right on the edge, and it made me feel invincible.

Nicholas's hands tangled in my hair, guiding me but never forcing me, a silent agreement that allowed him to enjoy the ride while still being lost in the moment. He breathed out deep, guttural sounds as I continued, moving with a slow rhythm that matched the way his body responded. I could feel him begin to lose control, his hips instinctively bucking into my mouth as I picked up the pace.

In that moment, I focused on every sensation — the warmth radiating from him, the soft, urgent sounds he made, the taste of him on my tongue, and the way his body reacted to my every move. I felt powerful, alive, and utterly consumed by him. As I picked up the rhythm, the intensity between us built to an almost unbearable pitch. Nicholas's breathing became erratic, and I could feel the tension coiling tightly in him. His eyes locked onto mine, filled with a raw need that made my heart race.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice a mix of desperation and pleasure, and I could see he was teetering on the brink.

With one last teasing swirl of my tongue, I pulled away just enough to let him feel the loss, a playful smile on my lips. "I know," I replied, leaning in to press soft kisses along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, relishing the way his body reacted to my touch.

He groaned at my words, his body trembling beneath me. "Nonono," he gasped, his hips shifting as he fought to hold on just a little longer, “Don’t stop,” he cried softly, clutching at the bedsheets. “Please, baby.”

I wrapped my hand around him once more, stroking him slowly as I looked into his eyes. With a low growl, his eyes darkened with need as he bucked his hips against my hand. I engulfed him again, taking him deeper into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him in a way I knew would send him over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasped, throwing his head back.

He shut his eyes closed, his voice trembling with pleasure. My hand was wrapped around his length as I bobbed my head, focused on my rhythm. I felt Nicholas’s fingers reach for my hand, intertwining his with mine as if I was the only thing tethering him to reality. As I picked up the pace, I felt him squeeze my hand tighter and tighter, his legs tensing on either side of me.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, like he was begging for mercy.

I pulled away quickly, kissing his tip with a smile before continuing and pressing his length to the back of my throat, taking him in completely. Nicholas's whole body jerked in response, his fingers gripping my hair as his breath grew more frantic. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he groaned deeply, his voice barely a whisper but filled with raw emotion.

"(Y/N), I can't... I..." He couldn't even finish the sentence, his hips jerking as he surrendered to the pleasure.

I didn't stop. Instead, I kept moving, feeling him quiver under my touch, savoring the moment as he fell apart in front of me. It felt like time had slowed, each second stretching into eternity as I took him deeper, giving him everything he wanted and more. I could sense his struggle to hold onto control, but I could also tell he was beyond the point of no return.

His breathing hitched one final time, his entire body tensing as he bucked up into me, the final wave of release crashing through him. I felt the warmth of him filling my mouth, a sensation that made me dizzy with desire. I drank him in, savoring every moment as he surrendered completely, letting the waves of pleasure wash over him.

As he finished, I pulled back slowly, licking my lips and looking up at him with a satisfied grin. Nicholas lay there, breathless and vulnerable, a stunned expression on his face as he tried to catch his breath. His grip on my hair loosened as he let out a long, ragged exhale.

Nicholas's chest heaved as he tried to steady himself, his hands trembling slightly as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The silence between us was heavy, filled with the aftermath of everything we had shared. He looked at me with a mixture of awe and something darker — a depth of feeling that made my heart race all over again.

I stood up from the floor and slowly removed my clothes, Nicholas watching intently. I felt vulnerable but all the more powerful under his scrutiny. Climbing back onto the bed and straddling him, I watched as he struggled to regain his breath, his eyes never leaving mine. I lowered myself, letting my new necklace dangle over his lips.

Nicholas's eyes locked onto the charm resting above his lips, his gaze soft but intense, like he was drinking in every moment. He reached up, his fingers brushing against the necklace, tracing the N with a reverence that made my chest tighten. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice low and filled with conviction, as though he was staking a claim, marking me as his in a way that went deeper than anything physical.

I leaned down more, the charm resting between his lips. Slowly, Nicholas parted his lips and let the charm fall between his teeth, biting the necklace and tugging me down to him, careful not to snap the chain off my neck. The act was both possessive and tender; I was mesmerized.

He softly spit out the charm from his mouth and pulled me in a deep kiss, hard and hungry, his hands roaming over my skin like he couldn't get enough of me. It wasn't the tenderness from earlier — this was raw, urgent, and driven by something deeper than mere desire.

"Tell me you're mine," he whispered, his lips brushing against mine, his voice a rasp of need.

I could barely catch my breath as I stared down at him, feeling his hands grip my sides as he leaned up, his body against mine. "I'm yours," I breathed, the words coming out almost like a plea. "I'm yours, Nicholas."

He kissed me again, this time slower, his lips lingering as if trying to memorize the taste of me. I felt his heart pounding beneath my palm, its rhythm matching my own. It was just us, tangled together, our breaths mingling, our hearts beating as one.

I felt his hand make his way between our groins, grabbing his shaft and slipping himself inside of me. I collapsed onto his chest as he entered me, feeling him slowly start to thrust.

His breath hitched as he eased into me, his grip on my hips tightening as if grounding himself in the moment. I gasped, the sensation of him filling me overwhelming, and yet all-consuming. My body molded to his, every movement drawing us closer, deeper, as though we were meant to fit together this way.

Nicholas's hands roamed my back, his touch gentle yet possessive, and the contrast sent shivers through me. "I’m yours," he murmured against my ear, his voice hoarse with emotion. His lips grazed my neck, leaving a trail of kisses that seemed to set my skin on fire.

I rolled my hips slowly, matching his rhythm, the intensity building between us. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure coursing through me, and I couldn't hold back the soft moans spilling from my lips. The sound seemed to spur him on, his movements growing deeper, more deliberate.

His hands slid to my waist, guiding me as I rode him, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my heart race. "Look at me," he said softly, his voice a command and a plea all at once.

I obeyed, meeting his gaze, and what I saw there made my breath catch. It wasn't just desire; it was something deeper, something that made me feel raw and exposed in the best way.

"I’m yours," he said again, his words breaking through the haze of passion. "Yours."

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten, and I leaned down to kiss him, pouring every unspoken word into it. Our movements grew more desperate, more frenzied, as we climbed higher together, the room echoing with our shared breaths and muffled cries.

I felt the tension building within me, coiling tighter with each thrust, until it finally snapped, a wave of ecstasy washing over me. I cried out his name, my body trembling as I clung to him, the intensity of my release leaving me breathless.

Nicholas followed moments later, his grip on my hips almost bruising as he buried himself deep within me, his head falling back against the pillow as he groaned my name. His body shuddered beneath mine, and I could feel every tremor, every pulse as he found his own release.

We stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat and our breaths mingling in the stillness. Slowly, Nicholas rolled us gently, his body hovering over mine as his hand trailed down my side, sending shivers through me. His eyes never left mine, his gaze holding a mixture of adoration and desire that made me feel both cherished and wanted in a way l'd never experienced before. He lowered his head, pressing soft kisses along my jawline, down my neck, and across my collarbone, his lips worshipping every inch of my skin.

The necklace shifted slightly as he moved, the charm catching the faint light in the room, a reminder of the promise we had just exchanged. Nicholas's lips paused just above it, his warm breath grazing the delicate chain. He pressed a kiss over the charm before lying down next to me, caressing my cheek.

I turned my head to meet his gaze, his hand still cradling my face, his thumb gently tracing along my cheekbone. His expression was soft now, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments before. He looked at me like I was a masterpiece, something to be admired, protected, loved.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close, and I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was calming, grounding, as though the world outside didn’t exist anymore — just the two of us, tangled together in the quiet aftermath.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his fingers stroking lazily up and down my back. I smiled against his chest, feeling safe and cherished in a way I hadn’t thought possible.

We lay there in a comfortable silence, the only sounds the faint rustling of the sheets and our synchronized breathing. I tilted my head up to look at him, his eyes already on me.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” he asked, a hint of confusion crossing his features.

“For the necklace. For flying me out here,” I replied, my fingers trailing along his jawline.

Nicholas caught my hand in his, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I’d do anything for you,” he said, his voice steady and sure.

I felt my heart swell at his words, and I realized in that moment just how deeply I was falling for him — no, how deeply I’d already fallen. This wasn’t just passion or fleeting infatuation. This was something real, something profound, and it terrified me as much as it thrilled me.

He pulled the blanket over us, cocooning us in warmth, and held me closer, as if afraid I might slip away. As I drifted off to sleep in his arms, the necklace resting lightly against my skin, I knew this moment was why I was here. It was moments like these that so perfectly explained how I felt, even if my words couldn’t.

I stirred awake to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee, suddenly feeling the empty space next to me. Fluttering my eyes open, I shifted my arm in bed, searching for Nicholas to find he wasn’t there.

The faint murmur of activity came from outside the bedroom, a soft hum of life that felt both foreign and comforting. The smell of coffee was rich and inviting, and I stretched lazily, letting the memory of the night before wash over me like a warm wave. My lips curved into a smile as I turned onto my side, my hand brushing against the spot Nicholas had occupied just hours ago. It was still faintly warm, a lingering trace of him that made me ache to see him again.

I pulled the blanket tighter around me, savoring the comfort of the bed for a moment longer before finally deciding to get up. The necklace he’d given me lay cool against my skin, a constant reminder of the way he made me feel and how I made him feel. Running my fingers over the charm, I couldn’t help but grin like a fool.

Slipping out of bed, I grabbed one of Nicholas’s shirts draped over a nearby chair and slipped it on. The fabric hung loosely on me, his scent wrapping around me like a hug. Padding barefoot toward the kitchen, I followed the sound of soft music playing and the occasional clink of dishes.

When I stepped into the kitchen, my heart melted at the sight before me. Nicholas stood at the stove, his hair still tousled from sleep, wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His movements were fluid and relaxed as he flipped something in a pan, humming along to the music playing softly in the background.

“Good morning,” I said, my voice slightly raspy from sleep.

He turned at the sound of my voice, his face lighting up with a smile that felt like sunshine. “Morning, beautiful,” he replied, his voice warm and full of affection. He set the pan down and crossed the room in a few long strides, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. He pulled away then, his eyes falling onto the necklace around my neck. He brushed his fingertips over the engraved charm, then down to the shirt draped over me, “You look sexy in that,” he said as he walked back over to the stove. “You should keep it.”

I laughed softly, tugging at the oversized hem of his shirt as I leaned against the counter. "Oh, don't worry. I was already planning on it.”

Nicholas glanced over his shoulder, smiling.

I watched him for a moment, the way the morning sunlight streamed through the windows, catching on his skin and making the whole scene feel like a dream. He looked so at ease, like this was the most natural thing in the world — us, together, sharing a quiet morning. My heart clenched with the realization of how much I wanted this, not just for today, but for always. It ached me to know how this time tomorrow, I would be back home without him in my arms.

Nicholas plated the last pancake and turned to me with a proud grin. He carried the plates to the small dining table, setting them down before pulling out a chair for me. I sat down, the simple gesture making my chest warm. He poured himself a cup of coffee and poured me a cup of tea, then settled across from me, watching as I took my first bite.

“I got us tickets to this super cool exhibit at the Academy Museum,” he spoke, taking a bite of his pancakes. “‘Color In Motion: Chromatic Explorations of Cinema,’” he recited dramatically.

I smiled, taking a sip of my tea, “Are you gonna act as my personal museum docent? Tell me every interesting fact about movies stored in that handsome head of yours?” I teased.

Nicholas chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Of course. But be warned, I might go a little overboard. I’ve got some serious movie trivia in here.” He tapped his temple with a playful grin.

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in a long time, “Don’t forget I do, too.”

He smiled, reaching for my hand and kissing my knuckles. The conversation flowed easily between us, each laugh and gentle tease cementing the comfort we’d found in each other.

As the meal stretched on, a quiet contentment settled between us, broken only by the occasional clink of utensils against plates or the soft notes of the music still playing in the background. The pancakes were light and fluffy, with just the right hint of sweetness, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how effortlessly Nicholas seemed to make even the simplest things feel special.

I traced my finger around the rim of my mug absentmindedly, watching Nicholas’s fingers drum against the edge of the table in time with the song playing. I let myself relish the way his laughter echoed softly in the quiet kitchen, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he glanced up and caught me staring. I let myself memorize every detail — the way he absentmindedly brushed his hair back, the soft scrape of his fork against his plate, the way his thumb tapped against his mug in a steady rhythm.

As we finished eating, I reached across the table, brushing away a crumb from the corner of his mouth. His hand caught mine, lingering for a moment before pulling it to his lips. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

After breakfast, Nicholas stood and began clearing the plates, motioning for me to stay seated when I tried to help. “I’ve got this. You can relax,” he said with a wink. His effortless charm made me grin, but I couldn’t just sit still, so I grabbed our cups and brought them to the sink.

“I’m not just gonna watch you do all the work,” I said, nudging his arm playfully.

He stifled a chuckle, “You did enough work last night,” he teased, alluding to last night’s sex.

My cheeks flushed instantly, and I swatted at his arm, laughing. “Nicholas!” I scolded, though the grin on my face betrayed any attempt at mock outrage. He just smirked, clearly pleased with himself, as he continued rinsing the plates.

“What?” he asked innocently, glancing at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m just stating facts.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a dish towel and bumping him with my hip. “If you don’t stop, you’re doing the dishes alone,” I warned, though we both knew I didn’t mean it.

Nicholas leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to that low, playful tone that always made my stomach flutter. “You wouldn’t leave me all alone, would you?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at my lips. “Keep it up, and you’ll find out.”

He laughed, the sound warm and infectious, as he finished the last plate and set it aside. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Good,” I replied with mock sternness, folding the dish towel neatly and setting it on the counter. “Now, let’s get ready for our last full day together,” I pouted, pulling him in by his hips and planting a kiss on his lips.

Nicholas nodded, pulling his hands out from under the running water and resting them on my hips, the wet feeling sending a shiver up my sides, “I’ll let you have the bathroom first,” he said.

“Such a gentleman,” I teased, heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

Once inside, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the necklace Nicholas had given me catching the light. I touched the charm absentmindedly, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. There was something so effortless about him, about us. I wasn’t used to this kind of connection, this kind of intimacy that made me feel like I could fall apart and be held together all at once; I wasn’t used to it at all.

I barely recognized the person staring back at me. There was a softness in my expression that hadn’t been there before. Being with Nicholas wasn’t just different; it was a tectonic shift. He saw me — really saw me — in a way no one else ever had, and instead of running away, he leaned in. That terrified me.

The way he looked at me, spoke to me, touched me — it all felt so natural, like it had always been meant to be this way. But it was uncharted territory for me. I’d never let anyone hold me the way he did. And now, standing here in his shirt, wearing his necklace, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d opened myself up to something that could break me, and the more days I spent in Los Angeles, the more plausible that possibility became.

It wasn’t that I doubted his feelings for me; I knew he cared deeply. It was more that I doubted my ability to keep up. The way I barely held myself together at that party took everything out of me. And if Nicholas and I continued to see each other, then that would mean more parties, more events, each bigger and more important where it would matter even more how I presented myself in front of all those strangers. I’m not sure I was built for that.

I turned the faucet on, splashing cold water onto my face to shake off the rising tide of doubts. Today wasn’t the day to dwell on what-ifs. Today was about us.

“I changed my mind. Mind if I join you?” Nicholas’s voice came from the doorway, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a playful grin on his lips.

His ability to show up at just the right time was something to be admired. It’s like he could sense whenever I was too in my head about something and knew nothing would be able to soothe my thoughts except his presence.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to mask how the sight of him made my heart skip a beat. “Bold of you to assume I’d say yes.”

He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward me, his grin widening. “Oh, I think you will,” he teased, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down my spine as he pulled his shirt off my body.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” I said, though my voice betrayed the smile I was trying to suppress.

“And yet, here you are, unable to resist me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t protest as he reached over to turn on the shower, steam quickly filling the bathroom. Nicholas peeled off his sweatpants, leaving him in nothing. He moved with the kind of confidence that seemed effortless, yet somehow never arrogant. He stepped into the shower, holding his hand out for me as I slipped off my underwear and followed him in, the warm water cascading over us and the steam embracing us.

Nicholas’s hands were gentle as he reached for the shampoo, lathering it into my hair with a care that melted away the last of my hesitation. His touch wasn’t rushed or mechanical; it was deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment of this closeness.

"You spoil me," I murmured.

"That's kind of the point of this whole trip," he replied with a soft chuckle.

He rinsed the suds out slowly, his fingers massaging my scalp in a way that felt impossibly intimate, making me close my eyes leaning into his touch. He didn't rush to speak or fill the silence with meaningless words; he simply allowed the quiet between us to be filled with the weight of unspoken understanding.

Nicholas gently guided me back under the water, his hands now resting lightly on my shoulders, grounding me. His lips brushed against the edge of my jaw, a soft, fleeting touch that left a trail of heat behind. The steam swirled around us, but it was nothing compared to the warmth that spread between us. His body pressed against mine, the water beating down around us,

Without a word, he reached for the body wash, lathering it onto the wash cloth before softly gliding it over my skin. His touch was slow, reverent, as though he were tracing the lines of a masterpiece. Every part of me seemed to come alive under his hands, not just physically, but emotionally, in a way that was overwhelming. There was a depth to his care, a patience in the way he worked his hands over my skin, leaving trails of warmth wherever he touched.

I let myself sink into it, into him, closing my eyes as his hands moved with deliberate intent. His touch was steady, as though he knew exactly what I needed, what I was afraid to ask for. And when his hands slid to my back, his thumbs gently working the tension out of my muscles, I could feel my breath deepen, slow, as if I were finally learning to relax into this space with him.

The soft pressure of his hands on my lower back, his fingers drawing delicate patterns, made me want to lean in closer, press against him. He continued to lather every crevice of my body with soap, working his way down. When his hand slipped between my thighs, I clutched at his shoulder, my abdomen twitching as he cleaned me.

I knew this moment was too tender to turn sexual, and that’s exactly why my body twitched at his touch. Nobody had ever touched me down there outside of a sexual context. Suddenly, I felt a bubble of emotions puddle at the back of my throat.

His hand paused, sensing the shift in my energy, his touch lightening as he let his fingertips graze over the sensitive skin, careful not to press too hard. I didn’t have to say anything. Nicholas immediately understood, and there was no need for words. He simply adjusted, moving his hand down to my legs, holding me steady as the warm water continued to rain over us.

When he came back up, his hands lingered on my waist, searching my eyes. He parted his lips to say something, but I interrupted him, wanting to show him the tenderness he had shown me this entire weekend.

“Can I clean you?” I asked quietly.

His look softened at the question, subtly nodding his head. I reached for the shampoo and motioned for him to turn around, squirting a dollop and emulsifying it a bit in my hands before running it through his hair, gently beginning to scrub at his scalp.

I knew I wasn't quite as skilled at this kind of intimacy, but I wanted to try. I wanted him to feel the same care he had given me, to show him that I could be just as present for him, even if I wasn't sure I knew how.

As my fingers worked through his hair, I focused on the feel of him beneath my hands, trying to capture the essence of his gentleness and patience. I wanted to mirror that feeling for him, to make him feel as safe and cared for as he had made me feel in his presence.

I could tell by the way he leaned into my touch that he was allowing himself to sink into this moment with me. His breath slowed as I massaged the shampoo into his hair, and I felt a quiet, shared understanding pass between us. I worked the shampoo into his hair more thoroughly, my fingertips pressing gently into his scalp, sweeping through the soft strands, and rinsing them out with the same reverence he had shown me. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly, a soft exhale escaping him as if he was letting go of something, something that had been building up.

I carefully turned him around and guided him under the stream of water, my hands finding their way to his shoulders, running over the lines of his body as I rinsed away the suds and reached for the body wash and wash cloth.

I lathered the body wash onto the cloth, the fragrance of it filling the steam-heavy air. I could feel Nicholas's gaze, steady and trusting, as he let me care for him. His silence wasn't a void; it was an invitation, an unspoken message that he was allowing me to be present in a way I hadn't fully realized I could be. The soft touch of the cloth against his skin felt almost sacred, and as I traced the lines of his chest, I realized how much I needed this intimacy, this giving and receiving.

Gently, I scrubbed at the back of his ears, the back of his neck, his collarbones. My hands slid down his torso, the warmth of his skin against the cool washcloth making my heart race a little faster. I moved slower, allowing my hands to glide over his sides, the muscles there softening under my touch.

I moved down to his legs, my hands careful and gentle as I washed the tension from his muscles. Nicholas stood still, his head tilted back slightly, his expression relaxed, as if he had given himself completely to me, trusting that I would show him the same care he had shown me. I wondered if he knew how deeply this was affecting me, how his willingness to let me into these moments of quiet intimacy made me feel like I could do the same for him.

When I finished, I moved back up to his chest, my hands lingering there as I rinsed away the suds. He opened his eyes slowly, meeting mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything. It wasn't necessary. The silence felt full, the unspoken emotions passing between us more powerful than words could convey.

He reached up and cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing over my cheeks. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice low and warm, like the feeling of the water cascading over us.

I shook my head, smiling softly. "No, thank you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine, the steam swirling around us, but somehow, it felt like time stood still. His lips found mine in a slow, tender kiss, and I melted into him.

"Pull away before we miss the exhibit, too," I murmured against his lips, my mouth growing into a smile.

Nicholas chuckled softly, his breath warm against my lips as he pulled back just enough to look at me. "We wouldn't want that, would we?" he said, his voice hushed.

I smiled up at him, a mix of affection and a quiet thrill filling me. "No," I agreed, "we wouldn't."

He reached up to turn off the water, the last of the steam hanging in the air around us like a tangible presence. As the water stopped pouring over us, the sudden silence felt almost sacred. I stepped back, my skin prickling from the cool air that replaced the warmth of the shower. Nicholas reached for a towel, wrapping it around his waist and stepping out first. He then wrapped me in a towel and guided me out of the shower.

We each moved to our corners of the room, each of us picking our outfits. Nicholas settled on a simple black T-shirt and jeans, his typical laid-back style, though I noticed the way his movements had softened, a certain calmness in his demeanor. I couldn’t help but smile as I reached for my clothes.

I opted for a loose, white blouse and a pair of dark jeans, casual but comfortable. As I slipped on my shoes, I caught a glimpse of Nicholas watching me with that same soft expression, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just affection; it was something deeper, something that made my chest tighten in the best possible way. And for a beat, I braced myself, thinking this could be the moment he might say ‘I love you.’ But it wasn’t.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice thick with admiration.

“Thanks,” I replied, trying to hide the flush on my cheeks.

He gave a dramatic bow, his hand outstretched toward the bedroom door as if introducing a grand performance. “Shall we?” Nicholas asked, holding out his arm.

I rolled my eyes, laughing, and grabbed my purse from the bed. Nicholas adjusted his watch and checked his phone, a soft furrow appearing between his brows as he glanced at the screen. He quickly tucked it back into his pocket, a slight tension in his jaw that I couldn't quite place.

"Everything okay?" I asked, taking a step toward him.

He gave me a smile, nodding. "Yeah, all good. Just checking some things. Let's get going," he said, brushing it off.

We gathered our things, making our way out the door and down to his car, the excitement of the day still fresh between us. Nicholas took my hand as we walked, a light, refreshing breeze brushing against our skin.

As we drove toward the museum, the city unfolded before us, but my mind kept drifting back to the quiet moments we'd shared earlier — to the warmth of his smile, the softness of his voice, and the way his presence felt like home. I wish I could stay longer. I didn’t want this weekend to end at all. I wanted to drive in forever; I wanted to be buried in it.

The museum loomed ahead, sleek and modern, with glass windows that glistened in the sunlight. Nicholas parked the car, and as we walked toward the entrance, my heart gave a little flutter of anticipation. It wasn't just the exhibit that I was excited about — it was spending this day with him, seeing the world through his eyes, and getting lost in the little moments that would make today unforgettable.

"Ready for the best museum date of your life?" he asked, flashing me that grin that made everything feel right.

I nodded, feeling the same excitement twinkle in my chest. We walked through the doors together, hand in hand, ready to dive into the day we'd planned — a perfect balance of art, laughter, and just being in each other's company. Nicholas had our digital tickets scanned from his phone, flashing that signature smile of his at the ticket booth attendant. It wasn't until we stepped past security and began walking toward the exhibit that Nicholas's phone buzzed in his pocket.

He glanced at it quickly, his brows furrowing as he pulled it out. I could see the shift in his posture — the way his shoulders tensed, the way his smile faltered.

"Who is it?" I asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice.

He glanced at me, his expression apologetic.

"It's my agent," he said, his tone strained. "I… I’m sorry, babe, I have to take this." He stepped to the side, his voice dropping as he answered the call.

I watched him for a moment, wanting to see what the call might be about but I eventually decided to give him his space and walked a few steps ahead, distracting myself with the graphics on the walls introducing the exhibit. As he turned his back slightly to finish the call, I felt a pang of discomfort. There was a sinking feeling in my chest that I couldn't ignore; I’m not sure why.

Nicholas hung up the phone and caught up with me, his eyes wide. I could practically feel his heart racing. "That was my agent; apparently, somebody dropped out of the new American Psycho movie, and they want me to come in and read for them,” he spoke with contagious excitement.

Of course, I was excited for him. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. The exponential rise that could happen to Nicholas if he got this role… it would catapult his career!

My initial reaction was pure joy for him. “Nicholas! That’s incredible!” I said, bringing him in for a hug.

He was smiling from ear to ear, but he reluctantly pulled away, his excitement tempered by something else. His hands rested on my shoulders, the look in his eye sympathetic, “They want to see me in an hour,” his eyes flickered to the exhibit behind me. “I’d have to prepare.”

I felt the weight of his words settle over me. I glanced around the museum, the excitement I’d felt moments ago replaced with a bittersweet ache, but I couldn’t protest. This was an important moment for Nicholas, and I didn’t want to cause any problems that might hinder his audition.

He wouldn’t say it, so I did for him, “Well, then, you have to go,” I smiled.

Nicholas hesitated, his hand lingering on my shoulder for a moment longer than necessary. I could tell he hated the idea of leaving me, but I also knew how important his career was to him. He had worked too hard to get where he was, and I didn't want to hold him back.

“Are you sure?” He asked gently, studying my face, as if trying to gauge how I really felt. “Leaving you here alone is the last thing I want.”

I furiously nodded my head, though my heart was sinking. “Totally. I mean, I have my pamphlet,” I shook the paper in my hand, “I can handle the exhibit by myself.”

His lips curved into a grateful smile, “You’re amazing, you know that?” Nicholas pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me with a warmth that felt like he was trying to convey all the words he couldn’t say. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured into my hair. “Dinner tonight, okay? I’ll call you.”

I nodded against his chest, “Good luck, baby.” 

When we pulled apart, he kissed my forehead, his lips lingering just a moment longer than usual. Then he was gone. I stood there for a moment, watching him go, my heart feeling heavier with each step he took away from me, watching him disappear through the glass doors. The museum suddenly felt much larger without him by my side. It now seemed like an endless maze of galleries and rooms that would only remind me of how alone I felt in that moment.

Taking a deep breath, I reached for the charm dangling from my neck and decided I wouldn’t let this ruin my day. Nicholas was chasing a dream, and I couldn’t be upset about that. I had always been independent; I had a life before Nicholas, and I would make the most of the time I had. Even without him by my side, I refused to let the day go to waste. I clutched the museum pamphlet in my hand, trying to focus on the descriptions of the galleries instead of the lingering ache in my chest.

Seeing some of the incredible pieces distracted me for a bit. There were some vintage technicolor cameras on display, some costume pieces, original film cels, and color study models, all from various movies known for their iconic use of colors. The collection pulled me in, piece by piece, each display weaving its own story. I found myself lingering in front of a glass case showcasing the red jacket Jack Nicholson wore in ‘The Shining.’ At that moment, I imagined what Nicholas might’ve said if he were here. He’d probably point out that Jack Nicholson had hand-picked the jacket himself, and I’d pretend I didn’t know that fact already.

I moved on, immersing myself in the exhibit. A few film projectors whirred softly in the background, casting multiple different shots of iconic movies — Moonlight, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and Vertigo. I let the sound soothe me, letting myself get lost in the moving pictures. But every few steps, I caught myself glancing at my phone, hoping for a text or an update from him. My mind raced with questions: Was he preparing? Was he already at the audition? Was he feeling confident? And, selfishly, when would he come back?

I shook off the thoughts and let my gaze settle on a new display: a costume worn by Kim Novak in Vertigo. The emerald green dress was striking, its fabric shimmering faintly under the museum’s soft lights. A placard detailed its significance, describing how the color symbolized envy, obsession, and unattainable perfection in Hitchcock’s masterpiece. I traced the delicate beading on the hem with my eyes, letting the thought of those themes sink in.

Was I envious? Not of Nicholas’s opportunity, but maybe of the people who got to see him more often, of the way his world always seemed to be pulling him away from mine. Was I obsessed? Addicted might be the more precise word for my feelings toward Nicholas. After so much time alone, now knowing what it felt to be with someone, to be loved, I couldn’t take the feeling of not having that 24/7. I longed for that closeness every second of the day. Was I forcing this relationship to be perfect when life never was? I pushed the thought aside. This wasn’t the time to spiral — ha!

I moved through the exhibit, pausing at each piece and trying to fully absorb the stories behind them. There was something oddly comforting about the quiet of the museum, the hum of distant conversations, and the gentle tap of footsteps on the polished floors. Still, my phone felt heavy in my pocket, a constant reminder of how much I wanted to hear from him.

The hours seemed to pass by achingly slow. One…. Two…. I wasn’t privy to how long the audition process takes, but I started to become anxious. Was he auditioning right now? Did he get the part? Would he call me right after to share the good news? Or would I hear nothing until later tonight? The uncertainty gnawed at me, making it impossible to focus. My stomach started to growl, and I realized it had been hours since breakfast.

I kept moving through the museum, my mind wandering between thoughts of Nicholas and food. That’s when I saw possibly the best piece in this entire exhibit — Dorothy’s iconic red slippers from The Wizard of Oz. They shimmered under the museum lights, the sequins catching every glint and throwing it back in a kaleidoscope of ruby-red sparkles. The shoes were smaller than I imagined, delicate but sturdy, their charm undeniable even after decades. A small plaque beside them recounted their history — one of several pairs made for the film, each with subtle differences. These, it seemed, were the pair worn during the famous “there’s no place like home” scene.

I leaned in, studying the intricate beadwork and scuffed soles. I know that Dorothy’s whole story was about yearning for something greater, only to realize the value of what she already had, but I stared at those heels, and all I could think about was putting them on and transporting myself back home — my home, my bed, where I could bury myself under the covers and shut the world out. The ache in my chest was too loud to ignore, and for the first time all day, I felt the sharp sting of loneliness settle in.

But then, wasn’t this what I signed up for? I knew Nicholas was an actor, a rising star at that. He had a life, and I had my own. There would be moments like this where he’d have to go to last minute reads or leave for months on end to whatever destination the production called for. I knew that sometimes our schedules wouldn’t align, no matter how hard we tried. That thought cut deeper than I wanted to admit, but that was the plight of long-distance.

I felt my stomach grumble, more-so from hunger than anxiety. I straightened up, refusing to let myself spiral further. As much as I was fond of Nicholas, I was not going to wait to hear from him to go eat something. I needed something now, before I passed out in the middle of the gallery.

I pulled out my phone, finding a sushi place about a 20-minute walk away. I took one final pass of the exhibit before making my way out and following the directions my phone gave me.

On the walk over, a block away from my destination, I saw the sign to a familiar fancy health food store that I didn’t know existed until yesterday — Erewhon. I replayed the conversation I had with Nicholas’s friends in my head. What was so special about this store that I was basically laughed at for not knowing what it was?

Curious, I stopped in my tracks and walked in. The cool blast of air-conditioning greeted me as I stepped into the store. The sleek aisles of meticulously arranged organic products stretched before me, the air tinged with the faint aroma of freshly pressed juices and artisanal baked goods. It was the kind of place that seemed to mock my modest budget.

I couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. The sterile whiteness of the store, with its glowing lights and polished floors, felt like an alien landscape to me. I picked up a bottle of cold-pressed juice, squinting at the price tag — $14.99. For a tiny bottle of juice? I put it back quickly, feeling a strange sense of inadequacy settle in my chest.

I glanced at the people around me, their perfect hair, their effortlessly chic outfits, as if they stepped out of a Vogue magazine. And here I was trying to blend in but feeling like I was swimming against the current. I glanced at the shelf stocked with multi-grain crackers that cost more than I could justify. The feeling that had been nagging at me yesterday — the sense of being out of my depth, of not quite measuring up — crept back in. Was I enough for Nicholas? Was I ever going to be able to step into the life he was building for himself without feeling like an outsider?

I could almost hear his friends’ laughter from yesterday echoing in my ears: You don’t know what Erewhon is? It was the kind of question that seemed almost patronizing. Like they knew something I didn’t, like I was out of the loop in a city that thrived on exclusivity and trends. But none of that was really the problem, was it? It wasn’t about the store or the prices or the fancy health food or his friends. It was about the unspoken divide between Nicholas’s world and mine, my inability to fully embrace the promise of a possible future with him without retreating into my comfortable bubble whenever something dared to challenge me.

I turned quickly, leaving the aisles behind and heading toward the exit. As I stepped back out onto the street, the weight of everything seemed to crash down on me all at once. The crazy part was that Nicholas and I weren’t even public yet. Could you imagine the scrutiny he’d be under — I’d be under — once we did? But perhaps I was getting ahead of myself on that front.

I swallowed hard, shaking off the sting of self-doubt, and pulled up my map to find the sushi place. Maybe my hunger pangs were just amplifying my doubts. I made my way to the sushi place down the street, trying to push everything out of my head, but the thoughts clung to me like shadows. When I finally arrived and sat down at a small table, the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant felt like a quiet refuge compared to the overwhelming thoughts swirling in my mind.

I ordered something simple — salmon nigiri, miso soup, and a seaweed salad. As I waited for my food, I glanced out the window, the reflection of my face in the glass now blending with the city’s chaotic energy outside.

The conversation with Nicholas’s friends kept replaying in my head. The looks they gave me when I didn’t know what Erewhon was, like I’d failed some unspoken test. It wasn’t like I hadn’t experienced moments like that before, feeling a step behind in certain circles, but with Nicholas, it felt different.

I was used to feeling out of place. But with him, I wanted to feel like I belonged. I wanted to fit in his world, even if I didn’t always understand it. He had his acting career, his glitzy events, and his friends, while I had my life back home, simple but mine. He could easily carve out a space for himself in my life; why was it so hard for me to do the same with his?

The waiter brought my food, setting it down in front of me with a soft smile. I nodded my thanks, trying to shake off the heaviness. The entire time I ate, I waited for Nicholas’s name to pop up on my phone screen, to let me know he finished his audition and he would come join me, but it never did. Not when I finished my appetizer, not when I finished my entree, and not when I waited for the food to settle in my stomach before deciding to pay and leave. I paid the bill, the weight of my phone still sitting heavily in my pocket, and stepped out of the restaurant. 

Tired and craving the comfort of a bed, I ordered an Uber to Nicholas’s apartment. As the Uber drove me back to Nicholas’s apartment, the city lights outside the window seemed to blur into a sea of colors. My mind was still racing with everything that had happened — the excitement, the frustration, the loneliness. I couldn’t stop replaying the day. When did I become so codependent in this?

In fact, I was so distracted by my thoughts that when the Uber dropped me off in front of his building, I completely forgot the fact that I didn’t even have a key to Nicholas’s place. Resigned to the idea that I wouldn’t be able to cocoon myself in bed like I had wanted to in this moment, I pressed my forehead against the locked door to his building, closing my eyes and trying to fight back the tears that were starting to form, though I quickly wiped my eyes, embarrassed by how vulnerable I was feeling in that moment.

I contemplated calling Nicholas to ask when he’d be back, but he said he would call me. I had no way of knowing if he was still auditioning or maybe having an important conversation with the producers. I didn’t want to interrupt him. Sighing, I picked my head up and looked around, my eyes falling onto the quaint coffee shop across the street. I carefully scampered over, making my way inside and appreciating its calm atmosphere. I ordered a hot cup of tea and took my order to the table that faced the tv hung on the wall. 

I took a sip of my tea, letting the warmth settle in, trying to calm my racing thoughts. The TV on the wall was showing a news segment, but my mind was elsewhere. After today, a part of me was grateful I would be flying back home tomorrow morning. I would get to be in the comfort of my own home, my own bed, and I wouldn’t have to pay $13 for a bottled smoothie.

As the minutes ticked by, I felt my phone repeatedly buzz in my pocket. I pulled my phone out, Nicholas’s face taking up the entire screen. I answered his call, quietly peeping a, “Hey.”

His voice came through clear and warm, his excitement palpable and cutting through the tension I hadn’t realized had built up inside me. “Hey, I just finished up. Are you still at the museum? Are you down for dinner?”

I awkwardly glanced around the room, reluctantly telling him my current location, “No, actually I’m at the coffee shop across your building,” I spoke, part of me afraid of his reaction and the other part of me trying to come up with a believable excuse.

Nicholas’s tone softened immediately, as if sensing the hesitation in my voice. “What? Why? Did something happen?” His tone shifted to concern.

“No, nothing like that,” I skirted around the truth behind the situation, “My feet were just killing me, and I had already ordered an Uber before remembering I didn’t have a key to your building, so I just came to the coffee shop to unwind.” In a way, I wasn’t lying, I was just omitting a lot.

Nicholas’s voice returned, horrified. “Oh, my god, (Y/N); I’m so sorry. I should’ve thought about that. Babe, I feel absolutely terrible,” I could hear the guilt in his voice, and it made my chest tighten. It wasn’t his fault. I didn’t want him to feel bad for something that was honestly so small in the grand scheme of things.

I quickly reassured him, trying to soften the mood. “No, don’t be, Nic. I wasn’t waiting for too long; I just wanted a place to rest my feet,” I stifled a chuckle, thinking if it might have sounded insincere. “I’m drinking a cup of tea and watching the tv here, which is what I would’ve been doing at your place anyway.”

There was a brief pause on the other end before he spoke again, the warmth in his voice returning. “Still, I should’ve been more considerate. I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?”

I smiled into the phone, appreciating the sincerity in his words, even though I didn’t want him to feel bad. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”

“I’ll be there in 10.”

As soon as I hung up, I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. The universe just had a cruel way of humbling me, didn’t it? I sighed, counting down the minutes for Nicholas to get here so I’d be in his place, gathering up my things for tomorrow’s flight, showered, and ready to lay down in bed after today’s cruel jokes.

Just as I thought I may need to order a second cup of tea, the door to the coffee shop opened, and I looked up instinctively. And there he was — Nicholas, looking a little disheveled but with that familiar, bright smile on his face as he spotted me from across the room.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice gentle but filled with relief as he made his way over to me, his strides long and hurried.

“Hey yourself,” I replied with a grin, feeling the tension in my body slowly ease as he pulled up a seat next to me and immediately met me in a tight, warm hug. I tried so hard to not cry on his shoulder right then and there.

I leaned into his embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, and for a moment, the world outside the coffee shop disappeared. Nicholas’s arms around me felt like the only thing that could anchor me, the only thing that could stop the whirlwind of doubts and insecurities I’d been fighting all day.

He pulled back slightly, enough to look me in the eyes, but still close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body. “I’m so sorry you had to wait. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

I gave him a small smile, trying to push aside the emotions that had been threatening to overflow. “It’s fine, really.” I didn’t want to say any more, fearing I might say more than I mean. “Can we go home? My feet are killing me,” I stifled a laugh, trying to lighten the mood, mostly for my sake.

He nodded his head, “Of course,” quickly standing up from the chair and holding his hand out for me.

I followed him out of the coffee shop and across the street to his building, the cool night air brushing against my face. When we reached the building, Nicholas held the door open for me, a small, tender gesture that made me smile. we made our way over to his door in silence. I wasn’t sure if he could sense the tension, too.

As we stepped into his apartment, I immediately felt a sense of relief. Without saying a word, I kicked off my shoes and made my way over to Nicholas’s bedroom, opening my luggage and pulling out my pajamas and toiletries.

With his eyebrows knitted together, Nicholas stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, concerned.

I halted myself, mustering up the last of my energy to flash a smile as I looked back at him, “Yeah, why?”

He stepped inside his room, “I just feel like you’re not telling me something.”

I shook my head, “Just thinking about tomorrow’s flight, I suppose,” stepping closer to Nicholas and planting a kiss on his cheek before retreating to the bathroom to soothe my thoughts with a quick, hot shower.

The warm water from the shower poured over me, soothing the knots in my shoulders that had accumulated throughout the day. I closed my eyes and let the steam fill the small bathroom, hoping it would help me clear my head. It was just a rough day, I kept reminding myself. The uncertainty, the insecurities, the loneliness — it was all temporary. Once I got back home tomorrow, I’d have some space to breathe and refocus.

But as the water cascaded down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Nicholas had been so kind, so understanding, but he didn’t know half of what was going on inside my head. And I didn’t know how to tell him without sounding needy or like I was asking for something I wasn’t sure I deserved.

After a few minutes, I turned off the water and dried myself off with the towel and changing into my pajamas, stepping out of the bathroom. Nicholas was sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze soft as he watched me fiddle with my luggage.

“Feel better?” he asked, his voice low.

I nodded, trying to mask the emotional exhaustion that still lingered in my chest. “Yeah, much.” I forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look too disingenuous.

He watched me for a moment, his gaze searching. He clearly wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he reached over for my hand, “You want to talk about it?”

For the first time, I pulled my hand away from him, continuing to organize my stuff in my carry-on. “I’m fine, really,” I said, my voice a little quieter than I intended, occasionally glancing up at him. “I didn’t even ask how your audition went. What did they say?”

Nicholas seemed to hesitate for a moment, his gaze lingering on me. I could tell he was sensing the distance I was putting between us, but instead of pushing, he leaned back against the headboard of the bed and sighed. “It went well,” he said, his voice soft but still laced with that familiar enthusiasm. “They said they’ll let me know by tomorrow if I’m in, but I felt good about it. I think they liked me. He couldn’t fight the grin growing on his face, and neither could I.

“Oh, my god, Nic, that’s incredible!” I excitedly clapped my hands, grateful to still have some energy left in me to celebrate Nicholas’s victory. I stepped closer to him and cupped his face in my hands. I intended to speak with a clear and gentle tone, but my voice started to crack when I said, “You, Nicholas Chavez, are going to be a movie star.” The tears forming at the corners of my eyes betrayed the smile on my face.

Nicholas’s grin softened when he saw the tears in my eyes, and for a moment, it felt like the whole room stood still. I could tell he knew that my tears weren’t for joy. He studied me for a long moment, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he processed the situation. I didn’t want to drag him into this, didn’t want to burden him with my insecurities. He had his own life, his own career, and I was proud of him — I really was. But somewhere, in the back of my mind, a whisper of doubt kept clawing its way to the surface: Am I enough for him?

As if sensing the undercurrent of my thoughts, Nicholas reached up and gently brushed a tear from my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice filled with understanding. “What’s wrong?”

I froze at his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand grounding me, but also amplifying the distance that seemed to grow with every passing second. His voice was gentle, full of concern, but it only made me more aware of the wall I had been trying so hard to keep up. 

I took a deep breath, trying to collect my scattered thoughts. I could feel him waiting for an answer, his presence making the silence between us more intense than the loudest words.

“Nic…” I started, “I’m not sure I can keep up with your life.”

He froze at the words, nervously stifling a chuckle and moving his hands to cup my face. “W-what are you saying?” He asked, his voice frantic, his eyes flicking between both of mine.

I felt my throat tighten as I looked into his eyes, searching for the words that had been building up all weekend. The weight of everything I had been hiding was pressing down on me, and now, finally, I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

I closed my eyes, a tear unintentionally falling as I did so. I wiped the tears from my eyes, “I need you to listen to me without interrupting, okay? I need to say everything that’s on my mind, even if I don’t like saying it.”

He silently nodded his head. I breathed deeply, reaching out to close his eyes with the tips of my fingers, my hand lingering on his cheek as I articulated my feelings out loud, watching him fight the urge to open his eyes.

“Nicholas,” I started, my voice trembling, “I love you. So much,” I let out a frustrated chuckle. I saw his jaw tense. He shut his eyes tighter, his lips starting to quiver, like he was fighting back tears. “I’ve never felt like this before toward anybody else. I’m so in love with you, Nic, that I don’t recognize the person I become when I’m not with you.” I paused, struggling to find the right words as I felt the weight of everything I hadn’t been saying crash down on me. “And that’s what scares me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I feel like I’m holding on too tight, afraid I won’t be able to keep up with you in your world otherwise, and that’s not okay — for anybody.”

The words felt like they were ripping themselves from my chest, and I couldn’t stop them. I’d never admitted this to anyone before, not even to myself. The thought of codependency made me feel weak, pathetic even. But I couldn’t deny it anymore — my attachment to him was consuming me. Nicholas’s expression softened, fluttering his eyes open, but there was an undeniable sadness in his eyes. He didn’t speak right away, as if giving me the space to breathe, to feel whatever it was that had been weighing so heavily on me. I could feel my chest tightening with each passing second, the vulnerability making me feel exposed, like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, just waiting to fall.

“Nic, I’m scared that I’m not enough for you at this point in your life. You need someone who’s sure of themselves, who truly deserves to be treated the way you treat me,” I pressed my hand against his chest, his heart thumping under my touch. “ And I know that makes me sound like a needy person, but I just can’t keep pretending that I can keep up in a place like this,” I looked out the window to watch the glittering lights. “I just—” My breath hitched as the words got caught in my throat. I burst into tears as I spoke, “I don’t want to hold you back; it’s not fair,” I cried as I buried my face in my hands.

Nicholas was quick to move, his arms wrapping around me tightly as he pulled me into his chest. His touch, gentle but firm, was a balm to the chaos I felt swirling inside me. I could feel him shiver under me, his chest pounding as he breathed into my hair. Was he crying?

His arms tightened around me, his hold steady and unwavering, as if he could somehow absorb all of my fear and self-doubt into his chest. His hand gently rubbed my back in slow, soothing motions, his voice soft and full of tenderness as he croaked into my hair. “Baby, stop.” His words were barely audible, but they held so much weight, and they stilled me for a moment. "(Y/N), look at me."

I pulled away, wiping at my tear-streaked face, my chest still heaving from the release. He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze unwavering.

"You're not holding me back. You're just not, okay?" His words were soft but filled with conviction. I shook my head, trying to pull away, but he wouldn’t let me. “No, listen to me,” he interrupted, his voice stronger now, as if he needed me to hear him above the noise in my head. Nicholas’s gaze softened, his hands now cupping my face, his thumb grazing my cheek gently as he spoke again, but this time, there was an undeniable sincerity to his voice. “You are more than enough, (Y/N),” he poked his finger at my chest forcefully, as if to really drive his point home, his gaze into my eyes intense, as if he was disappointed in himself that I even managed to feel this way with him, “You’re more than enough for me. I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t need anyone else. I don’t need you to be anything more than what you already are,” he let out a soft, exasperated laugh, “I love you, (Y/N).”

The words hung in the air between us, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. It was the first time he’d said it, and the weight of it made my chest tighten. I searched his face, looking for any hint of doubt, but all I saw was sincerity.

The three words were everything I didn’t know I needed to hear. They were like the magic bandaid to every doubt in my head. I had skirted around that particular phrase the last four months possibly because I was afraid. I was afraid he wouldn’t feel the same; I was afraid of saying them over the phone, fearing he might not take it as seriously. But now, hearing Nicholas say those words… it was like I could finally let myself go of every doubt. He loved me.

“I love you,” he repeated, his voice steady and sure. “I know you’re scared, but please, don’t push me away.”

I rested my forehead against his, his breath mingling with mine. "Say it again," I whispered, my voice low.

He didn't need to ask what I had meant. He knew. He placed his hands on either side of my face, his thumbs brushing along the apples of my cheeks as he looked into my eyes. "I love you, (Y/N)," he said softly, letting every ounce of truth and emotion he felt pour into the words. "I'm so in love with you."

My eyes closed for a moment, as if I was letting the words wash over me, and when I opened them again, the intensity in his gaze was overwhelming. My tears came harder now, but they weren’t from sadness anymore. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to respond, so I just nodded, burying my face in his chest as he held me tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time all day, the knot in my chest began to loosen. In his arms, the noise of the world outside seemed to fade, and all that was left was the steady beat of his heart against mine.

As I rested in his embrace, a quiet realization began to form within me. I had become so caught up in my own thoughts and nonexistent expectations, that I had lost part of myself during that spiral. I didn’t need to be perfect. I didn’t need to have everything figured out. I didn’t need to match his pace or mold myself to fit his world. At that moment, I understood something crucial. Love, true love, wasn’t about perfection or fitting into a certain mold. It was about vulnerability. It was about showing up as you are, flaws and all, and trusting that the person who truly cares for you will see you — not as someone to fix or improve, but as someone worth loving exactly as you are.

I pulled back slightly, looking into Nicholas’s eyes once more. His gaze was still soft, still steady, and I felt a small but powerful sense of peace settle within me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, barely audible, but enough for him to hear. “For everything.”

He smiled, brushing a stray tear from my cheek. He reached for the charm resting on my collarbones, “I’m here for you, always, even when I’m not.”

The next morning, I found myself at the airport, the quiet hum of early-morning travelers around me. I had a new sense of calm, the kind that only comes after a storm has passed. My flight was in a few hours, and I was heading back to my life, but something had shifted. I wasn’t just returning home physically; I was coming back with a renewed sense of self, thanks to Nicholas’s reassurance.

I’d always been so afraid of feeling weak, of needing someone — maybe that was the true reason none of those fruitless conversations on dating apps went anywhere. But now I saw that allowing myself to lean on someone, on Nicholas, didn’t make me less of who I was. It made me stronger. I was allowed to have my doubts and insecurities, but I also had the right to trust in the love we shared — a love that didn’t demand perfection

I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I thought of his words, the warmth of his touch still lingering on my skin, and the certainty in his voice when he’d told me that I was enough. I hadn’t truly understood it until now, but I finally realized that love wasn’t something that should add pressure to my life. It should bring peace, acceptance, and the feeling that I wasn’t alone in the chaos. Nicholas had shown me that.

“I’ll miss having you in my bed,” Nicholas smiled as he pulled me in toward him by my hips, smiling.

“Sleeping or… not sleeping?” I asked, teasingly.

Nicholas chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Both, actually,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “But I’ll survive, I guess. You’ll be back before I know it.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm embrace, but there was a bittersweet edge to them. I could feel the tug of my heart at the thought of leaving, of returning home, even though I so desperately wanted to return just the day before. But that was before Nicholas and I had shared our feelings to each other. Right now, leaving was the last thing I wanted.

I stepped back lightly, flabbergasted at his words. “Uh-uh. It’s your turn to visit me now.”

Nicholas’s grin widened, a playful spark dancing in his eyes. “Just tell me when you’re free, and I’ll be there,” he said, stepping closer again, his hand gently resting on my waist. “I’d love to meet your family,” he chuckled.

I laughed, “Trust me, I think you’d run in the opposite direction.”

“Then we’ll just have to see then, won’t we?” He smirked, kissing me on the forehead.

His words left me breathless for a second. This wasn’t some flippant comment. He was serious. He wanted to be part of my life, to be present in a way that went beyond the physical, beyond the fleeting weekends. But that idea scared me, not because I was afraid of letting him meet my family but because I was afraid of letting my family meet him.

“Call me when you land?” He asked.

“Of course,” I said softly, my voice catching as I looked up at him. “You’ll probably hear from me before I even get out of the airport.”

“Good,” Nicholas replied with a small smile, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek. “Because I’ll be counting the minutes.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he said, his grin widening, a mix of confidence and tenderness in his expression.

I didn’t deny it. Instead, I leaned into him one last time, savoring the warmth of his arms around me, the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek. This moment — this man — felt like home in a way I hadn’t expected, and it gave me the strength I needed to step away.

“I really have to go,” I murmured reluctantly, my hands lingering on his chest.

Nicholas sighed, his grip tightening for a brief moment before he let me go. “I know. Maybe I’ll get a chance to visit you before production starts.”

My eyes widened at his words, the realization washing over me. I yelped in excitement, quickly covering my mouth, “Oh, my god, you got the part?!”

Nicholas nodded his head rapidly, “I did,” he smiled.

I pulled him in for the tightest hug I could give him. “That’s incredible!” I exclaimed, my voice muffled against his chest. I was practically jumping for joy. “When does it start?”

“I think around the holidays,” Nicholas calmly answered, a tinge of giddiness under his words.

I flashed him an approving smile, “I’m so proud of you, Nicholas,” I said, giving him one last hug. “You can tell me more about it once I call. I have a plane to catch.”

He reached out for my hand, pulling me into one last unforgettable kiss to tide me over until our next reunion. Nicholas’s hand slid up to cradle my cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along my jaw as he leaned in. His lips brushed mine gently at first, as though he was savoring every second of this moment. Then the kiss deepened, his other hand finding the small of my back and pulling me closer. There was something different about this kiss, something raw and unspoken. It wasn’t just a goodbye; it was a promise. A promise that no matter the miles between us, no matter how long it took, we’d find our way back to each other.

I felt my knees weaken, and I clung to him, desperate to hold onto this connection for just a moment longer. His fingers tangled briefly in my hair as his lips lingered on mine, slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to memorize every curve and contour. When we finally pulled apart, I was breathless, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

“‘So we beat on,’” he whispered, smiling.

I looked up at him through my eyelashes, “‘boats against the current.’”

With one last lingering look, I turned and walked toward the security line, forcing myself not to glance back even though every fiber of my being screamed to do so. When I finally reached the checkpoint, I glanced over my shoulder and found him still standing there, his hands in his pockets, watching me with that same soft, steady smile that had anchored me through so much.

And as I made my way over to the terminal, I felt a quiet certainty settle over me — I’m so fucked if he visits my family during the holidays.

Continue the story with 'Room On Fire' (Part 3)

[0310s]

gently, by your side | jaehyun

members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader

genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one

tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(

summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3 

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5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!

4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((

3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!!  also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to

2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth?????  or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy

10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw

Yesterday  11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?

1:00 AM (y/n)?

1:28 AM idk  i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???

2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok

Today  3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.

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Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.

Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room. 

But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more. 

On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”

Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”

You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”

Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?

The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest. 

When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.

After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”

“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.

You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”

“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”

In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."

Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.   

“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?” 

At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”

When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.

“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”

Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.” 

“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I’m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you. 

“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make. 

“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”

“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.

“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.

However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”

When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.

[collapsedglasshouses]

Consequences || Noah Sebastian x Reader [Part 1]

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: Y/N has known Noah since he became her brother's best friend. Growing up with him and knowing everything about each other let to them also being close friends. But something changes between them when Y/N is moving in with them due to a water damage in her apartment and it all leads to Nick's 30th birthday party.

Warnings: NSFW 18+!, MDNI!, language, mention of marijuana, implied medication use, oral sex (female receiving), alcohol consumption, (feel free to let me know if i missed anything <3)

A/N: So this is the first work I every put onto tumblr and also the first work I every publish in English… Therefore: Pls have in mind that English isn’t my first language and I'm new to writing smut! If you have tips or tricks for me to improve my writing, pls feel free to message me! The idea was spooking around my head for a while. Be safe ppl and remember if you are under the age of 18, pls do not interact with my stuff since I’m really not comfortable with that (if i see it anyways i will block you). Now enjoy! <3

November 29, 2022 was the day everything changed…

12:34 PM; November 29, 2022

You woke up in the house where your brother and his friends lived. At the moment you kind of lived there due to water damage at your own apartment.

While the other roommates were momentarily out of the house, it was very empty and quiet around here. So it was no problem for you to get the spare bedroom. When you realised your brother was still sleeping, you tip toed down to the kitchen area where you found Jolly, Noah and Folio preparing a cake with candles.

"I think I've never seen you guys be so cute before." you mocked them while eying the cake. It was shaped like a guitar and coloured in black while being decorated with wonky red letters saying „Happy Birthday, Nick!“

You smiled to yourself before going around the kitchen counter and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge "So, when do we start tonight?" you ask your friends while sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"It depends on how long Jolly and Folio can distract Nick." Noah answers before walking towards you, stepping in between your legs and than grabbing a cup from the shelf above you while looking at you.

"What do you mean 'Jolly and Folio'? What about us?" you ask your brother's best friend while holding his gaze. It wasn’t unusual for you two to be close to each other since you had known Noah for ages considering his friendship with your brother Nick, but since you were living here something had changed. From sleeping in on the couch together while watching anime and waking up in each others arms to him telling you about song ideas that he didn’t tell anyone else about or those small touches you exchanged whenever no one was watching that seemed so innocent but still left you guessing.

When he finally broke your gaze and stepped back to pour himself a cup of coffee, you took a big sip out of your water bottle to drown out your thoughts before anyone noticed your nervousness.

"You two need to prepare the house while Folio and I go equipment shopping with your brother." Jolly explains before you hear a shuffling upstairs, causing you all to become quite and stare at the stairs while gathering around the cake which candles were quickly lit by Jolly. It didn’t take long before your brother wobbled down the stairs and came to a hold when he saw you four standing in front of his cake smiling.

"Happy Birthday, Nick!" you all shout in union while Nick rubbed his eyes and took a couple of tired steps towards you before blowing his candles. "What are you guys planning? You act like fucking robots." he mumbles while Folio cut the cake into small pieces.

"Can't we just be grateful that mom brought you into this world 30 years ago?" you said before hugging him tightly. "Jesus… You making me sound so old. But yeah… Definitely… Even though Folio looks like you stapled that smile onto his fucking face"

The guys quickly changed the subject to not cause any further suspicion before you ate breakfast together. It didn’t take long until the three boys took of, leaving Noah and you alone to decorated the house.

You talked about anything and everything, before you asked Noah to help him hang a "Happy Birthday" sign on the wall.

You were unsuccessfully trying to reach the height the sign was supposed to go on. Before you could argue you felt arms go around your waist and shortly after that you were being lift up. You felt your pulse rise and your eyes widened. "What the fuck are you doing, Noah?" you protested - "Helping you. Now do your job."

You muttered under your breath and tried to concentrate while Noah's arms were wrapped around you. You would lie if you said you didn’t like how close he was to you but at the same time you tried to push away the way it made you feel.

"You know, I actually can’t believe Nick's thirty already. It feels like time flies by so much faster since we formed the band." Noah almost whispered while you try to concentrate on the banner before you and not how soothing his voice sounded to you. "It feels like yesterday when Nick called us to pick him up from that girl’s house because her dad caught them making out." You slightly chuckle at the memory before you signaled Noah to let you down.

"It also feels like yesterday when you called me in the middle of the night because the exact same thing happened to you and you were too proud to call Nick because you made fun of him because of said story." you reminded him while turning around and looking up into his eyes. You would never get used to the fact how tall Noah was in comparison to you. It wasn’t like you were tiny but he still was more or less a head taller than you.

"It’s not like nothing like that never happened to you, Y/N Ruffilo." he noted in a teasing voice and you exactly knew which story he meant. "Noah, you promised we would never talk about that again." - "I promised to never tell your brother that you slept with that skater jerk Michael back at your senior prom and than almost getting pregnant from it."

You remembered it clear as day how Noah drove you to the pharmacy in the early morning hours to get a Plan B and how you cried about not wanting to be a teen mom and how he comforted you by saying he would be there for the child like it was his own.

You also clearly remember your dumb crush on that Michael guy. There was this boy in your and Noah's year that you had a huge crush on since eighth grade. Michael was a skater and in retrospective he definitely wasn’t a good guy, considering his first love were definitely joints but when Noah left school at 15 to pursue his music career there was no one who stopped you from your stupid little crush, considering the fact you didn’t tell your brother because he would have hunted Michael down.

"You know I would kill you if you would even think about telling Nick." you threatened your friend and pointed a finger to his chest. Noah smirked while looking down at your hand, before grabbing the tape from your other hand and leaning to your ear. "As if you could do anything against me."

Shivers went down your spine and your heart began to beat faster while Noah left you standing there in the middle of the living room to go on with decorating. If that wasn’t enough he looked back at you and said "But at least you didn’t lose your virginity to that jerk."

You felt your cheeks burn while thinking about what he was implying. You and Noah being the same age and having such a close friendship at a phase in your live that was purely controlled by hormones, it wasn’t far off that you did in fact lose your virginity to your brother’s best friend. But you both swore that not a soul in the world would ever find out about that and managed to keep it this way to this day.

You tried to push the thoughts of the past away by biting the inside of your cheek. You didn't know what to do. Slowly but surely he was driving you insane and you didn’t even know if he was doing on purpose.

This was the moment you decided that it was best for your own good to try to avoid Noah's presence at the upcoming party. You didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship with him and therefore ruining the bond your brother had with him since ages.

11:19 PM; November 29 2022

Hours later you found yourself on the couch in the corner of the living room while the party for you brother was at its peak. You didn’t really know how many drinks you consumed, considering the fact that you took at least four shots with your brother, but you definitely started to feel the alcohol in your system while you listened to a story Bryan told you about the last tour.

You couldn’t help but think about what happened early. Noah seemingly consumed your mind. You could only think about his hands around your waist or how comfortable you two slipped into this weird situation in your friendship. When you were younger you often cuddled or were close but it all seemed so different lately and you couldn’t wrap your head around why it suddenly felt so different for you. You feared that you were imagining that change.

"I'm sorry, Bryan, but I'm not doing so well." You quickly excused yourself while standing up and making your way upstairs. You didn’t know what had gotten into you but you knew that you needed to clear your head.

You entered the upstairs bathroom, leaving the door open since no one was on this floor and looked at your self through the small mirror. Your cheeks were flushed because of the alcohol you consumed and your eyes were slightly red.

You bent down and splashed a few drops of water in your face when you suddenly heard a voice behind you. "Are you okay?" Noah asked with furrowed eyebrows while placing a hand on your back, instantly sending a wave of chills down your spine.

"Yeah, yeah… Uh… I'm fine just a bit tipsy" you mumbled, drying your face with a towel before turning to face your friend.

Without even realising it you let your gaze wander and looked at Noah more closely. He wore a black turtleneck and black cargo pants, if you didn’t knew better you would say he was about to go on stage. In comparison to him you seemingly looked naked. Only dressed in a lacey black crop top and a skirt that was to short for your own good. But you were at your brother's, one of the places you felt save with wearing anything and everything.

Suddenly he raised his hand and put a strand of her behind your ear. "Do you maybe wanna watch a movie or something? You seem nervous."

You slightly look up to meet his eyes. The eyes of one of your best friends. The eyes of the boy who knew everything about you except your confusing feelings towards him. You took a deep breath and noticed his eyebrows rose for a second, before you nodded. As confused as you were, Noah was still Noah and knew exactly what he needed to do to calm your nerves. So you decided to sneak away from the party and not even an hour later you found yourself showered and in pyjamas sitting in his bed while searching for something to watch while he got ready for your sleepover.

You could still hear the music blast from outside of his room when he came back wearing sweatpants and a worn out band shirt.

"You know what you wanna watch?" Noah asks you while making himself comfortable next to you.

"You will laugh at me." - "Spirited Away?" Bullseye. Over the years Spirited Away became your comfort movie. You remember it clear as day when you first watched the movie with your brother when you were around ten. So when Noah started playing the movie all the memories you had while watching it filled your body and for a second you forgot about the weird things you've been thinking all day while snuggling into Noah's side like you always used to.

"Do you wanna tell me what has gotten into your mind?" he asked carefully when you were halfway through the movie and your heart automatically started to beat faster while you turned to look at each other.

You thought about a way to get out of this situation. You couldn’t just tell him that you had been thinking about it all day how his hands felt on your body. That would have been stupid considering the fact that you were sure you were imagining that whole atmosphere so you decided to just shake your head and look him in the eyes. Your cheeks started to feel warm and him than brushing a strand of hair behind your ear while signaling you to come closer to him didn't exactly help. You obeyed him, knowing full well he didn’t believe you, and slid closer to him until your head found its place in the crook of his neck while his arms slung around you. One around your back and the other one, to your surprise, slightly under your shirt.

"You know you can tell me everything." he said, his voice becoming a bit deeper and raspier while he started drawing circles on the exposed part of your skin. You had a feeling that you would catch fire any moment. You felt like you didn’t have any control over your body anymore. So much to your own surprise you lifted your head slightly and before you knew you placed a couple of soft kisses on this neck before stopping in your tracks and panicking. He had stopped doodling circles on your skin. Instead now he had grabbed your waist a little harsher than normal and let out a sound you last heard when you two were seventeen, a bit too drunk for you own good and definitely more naked than now.

You paused in your actions and waited for his reaction, trying to guess if you officially ruined your longterm friendship for the sake of your own amusement, but than he whispered in your ear "Why did you stop?"

Before you could think Noah turned on his back, pulling you with him so now you were sitting directly on his crotch and could feel him growing harder.

"Do you even realise what you do to me?" he almost moaned in your ear causing you to lose the last bit of clarity in your head and you kiss his neck again, more firmly than you did before.

He let out that noise again that send heavy shivers down your spine and before you could even process what was happening you grinded your hips against his. A wave of pleasure hit you when Noah began to fiddle with your shirt, silently demanding you to take it off, while slightly buckling his hips upwards. So you sat up on him and did as he demanded.

You never thought that you would every be in the position again that Noah Sebastian was looking at you like that. Pupils dilated and that look on his face that made you want to rip of his clothes.

With easiness he turned you two around so he was on top of you and took his turtleneck off, displaying all his tattoos to you that always made you weak and started kissing down your neck, than along your collarbone and eventually landed between your breasts.

"You are so fucking beautiful" he whispers against your skin causing you to moan quietly. "Fuck… Noah." You stutter while he slowly takes one of your nipples into his mouth while massaging the other with one hand. Your hands quickly found their way into his dark hair and when you pulled on it slightly he moaned against your skin.

"N-Noah.." you mumble causing him to look at you "I-…" - "Take your time, Y/N."

You took a deep breath while he stroked your skin around your waist "I need you to touch me"

Never in a million years you thought that you would say those words ever again to Noah but in this moment you needed nothing more than to feel him closer to you.

You again thought for a moment that you overstep an unspoken line because Noah stared at you for a second to long. In the exact moment you wanted to say something again he began kissing down your belly and stopped at the waistband of your panties, looking at you, searching for any kind of regret in your face but the only thing you could think about was his mouth where you needed it the most. So you buckled your hips up a little, signaling him to go on which he did with anticipation.

Noah slowly let the last bit of clothing on you slip down your legs before spreading them with his hands.

Before you could even say anything you felt his tongue against your clit and arched your back. Immediately your hands found their way back into his hair and you pulled on it, causing him to moan against your core while you nearly lost your mind.

You nearly began to sob when you felt two of his long fingers push inside of you and curve upwards. You begged that nobody would hear you scream those profanities while Noah ate you out like it was his last meal on this earth. Wet noises filled the steamy air in his room while the end credits of Spirited Away rolled in the background. You began to shake.

"Noah… I'm gonna… Noah… fuck" you cried out while trying to get a hold of yourself. You never felt this kind of way. And the fact that it was Noah making you feel that way made it even better to you.

You were a moaning mess when you came undone, grabbing Noah's hair so hard you feared you would hurt him but hearing him groan against you instead made you cum even harder.

"Oh fuck… baby… look at you… cumming so hard you can’t even contain yourself." Your body shaked as you started to come down from your high, still jerking towards Noah while he slowly kissed his way up to your face.

Your first clear thought started to form in your head when Noah was right above you looking into your eyes.

"Holy shit." - "You call it." - "Fuck." He nodded looking as surprised as you did in that moment.

You looked into his brown eyes that never left your face while he admired you. You didn’t know what to say so you did the only thing that came to your mind and grabbed his face before kissing him with force.

Noah sighed into your mouth while you could taste yourself on his mouth.

You knew that nothing would be the same after this but you both also knew now wasn’t the time to talk about.

So when you left Noah's arms and than his room around two hours later, when the house got quiet, with messed up hair and lips still slightly pink, you knew this would definitely have consequences…

READ PART 2 HERE

[rhythmstars]

Hello!! Just saw that you were writing for Pavitr- and thought I could submit this idea:) soo, I was thinking an Pavitr x reader where some villian finds out that spider man is dating the reader and uses that against him by kidnapping the reader? And Pavitr is just kinda freaking out and Gwen or someone has to calm him down before they go and save reader? Just thought it was an interesting idea and it's fine if you don't want to do it:) remember to take care of yourself and all that stuff<3

A/n: omg i live for hurt comfort!! Also, thank you so much for being so sweet! take care of yourself as well, drink some water!! and thank you for requesting!! <3

i tried my best to write this, i hope you enjoy, I'm sorry for any mistakes or if it didn't turn out the way you wanted it to :)

Warnings: minor? gore, panic, crying, hurt (with comfort fellas!), Pavitr being ANGRY, and bad writing.

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this is my first fic on Tumblr so pls let me know if you like it and if there are any mistakes :))

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Pavitr Prabhakar x GN! Reader

It was five hours ago when Pavitr received a text from his partner asking him if he is free for the day.

Five hours ago when he replied with a 'sorry but i have a meeting with the others today, maybe next time? will make it up to you i promise <3'

Four hours ago when he got a text from them reassuring him that it's alright and that they can always plan something for some other day, and asking him not to blame himself for this.

Three hours ago, before he got a text from them telling him that they have a sudden change in schedule and that they'll be attending their piano lessons today. A message with the last line being 'don't forget how much I love you, Pav. <3'

It was two hours ago when he got out of the meeting and tried calling his s/o to talk with them about their day and his. Two hours ago when they didn't pick up his first and his fifth call.

It was one hour ago when he asked Gwen and Hobie to help him find his s/o because he was freaking out.

And, it was exactly 30 minutes ago when Miguel called him to the office and told him that his beloved had been walking home from school when they got abducted by some unknown people. When he felt like the world has stopped.

It was exactly now that he was panicking and pacing around the room with uneven breathing.

"Pav, you need to calm down. They'll be fine." Gwen tried to reassure him because she felt like if she doesn't, then Pavitr won't ever stop. He didn't reply though, possibly not even heard what his friend had said. He kept murmuring about the possibilities he had flooding his mind.

Hobie sighed "This is no good mate. You gotta stop pacin' and think for a moment." He tried to talk to him but was met with silence once more. Frustrated with his best friend's antics, he walked towards Pavitr and puts a hand on his shoulder making him still. "Oi! can you stop pacin' around and think calmly for a moment?" he said in a sharp tone.

What he didn't expect was a distraught looking Pavitr looking at him helplessly with tears in his eyes. "Pav..." Gwen was shocked to see him like this as well. A guy like him never liked crying in front of others or talking about his problems, so seeing him like this really hurt them.

"Calmly?" Pavitr spoke in an annoyed tone. "I CAN'T BE CALM! MY S/O IS KIDNAPPED BECAUSE OF ME! AND I'M SITTING HERE NOT BEING ABLE TO DO *ANYTHING* BECAUSE MIGUEL HAS TOLD US TO SIT AROUND TILL HE PLAYS WITH HIS MACHINES IN THERE!"

Both of them looked at him shocked to their cores. They had never seen this guy so frustrated or angry. This cool and calm guy with a never ending playful persona.

He sighed. "I'm- I'm sorry I just-" he covered his face as he sat down on the stairs. "I- I don't know what to do...i don't know what is happening to them right now or if they're alright. I have no clue where they are and what those assholes are doing to them." He took in a deep breath. "I- You don't know I just- I don't want to think about this- what if, what if they're hurt? what if they're torturing them for being with me? they'll never tell my secrets, they'll rather die and it just, it scares the shit out of me guys i don't know what is going on. what if i never get to see them again? what if they leave me? what if- what if I-" His voice broke and he choked on a sob.

Gwen and Hobie looked down in guilt. They knew that this isn't easy for Pavitr. He truly loved Y/n.

Only a minute later, Peter came running out of the building. "Hey! We found 'em!" At his words, Pavitr got up with the speed of lightning and impatiently demanded the location.

"Where?"

Miguel walked beside Peter, "Do not act irrationally Pavitr, this is-"

"Where."

Miguel and Peter looked at him in shock. They had never seen him so angry. "The warehouse near the east coast in Mumbattan."

That's all he needed to hear before getting ready to take off. He had waited enough. One more second of delay and he'd lose himself. With impatient, trembling hands, he started using his watch for opening a portal back to his world.

To save his world.

"Pavitr!" He looked back at Miguel when he heard his voice, expecting a lecture on being rational and thinking calmly. But much to everyone's except Peter's surprise, Miguel said something nice. "Good luck."

Pavitr gave him a grateful nod and walked into the portal followed by Gwen and Hobie.

The three of them stood on a tower standing a few meters away from the warehouse. Pavitr was growing impatient every second and both Gwen and Hobie could see it.

Gwen placed a hand on his shoulder gently speaking, "Hey, it's alright. We're here now right? They're gonna be alright." She gave him a small reassuring smile.

"Yeah mate really, let's just check before getting straight to them, eh?" Hobie gave him a grin.

Pavitr sighed and nodded. "Let's go." They swung by the warehouse and over, trying to search for men possibly on the lookout. When they found none, they landed on the roof of the warehouse. A skylight caught there attention as they walked towards it to look inside. Unfortunately for them, it was too dark.

Too dark for Pavitr's liking.

Suddenly, the door to the warehouse opened and a man dressed in a robe walked in. He had a suitcase in his hand. What the actual hell?

He placed his suitcase on a iron table nearby and walked towards....

Pavitr's eyes widened. There, in front of that man, laying on the cold hard ground, tied to a metal frame, was his beloved s/o. The light coming in from the opened door reflected their bruises and cuts. Pavitr's blood turned cold at the man's laughter.

"Look at you, young gorgeous. Not so gorgeous anymore with all those scars but-" he pulled out a pair of gloves and started putting it on. "Come on dear y/n. We both know he doesn't give a DAMN about you. Otherwise he'd be here by now."

Gwen places a hand on Pavitr's shoulder, trying to ground his racing heart. "He won't even LOOK at you with a face as bruised as this. Just, tell me already." his voice turned deadly serious as he kneeled in front of them, "how. do. i. defeat. him."

That's enough.

Pavitr broke through the glass of the skylight and landed behind the man making him turn away startled. Gwen and Hobie followed after him looking angry. But Pavitr wasn't angry, no.

He was FURIOUS.

He glared at the man with so much rage and hatred that even the creepy man felt a shiver run down his spine. "Hah! would you look at that!" The man clapped his hands. "so you DO care after all."

Pavitr rushed forward and punched the man straight in the jaw making him stumble. But he still laughed like a maniac. "Haha! Gosh! You have some strength in you young man!" Pavitr punched him again as Gwen rushed to y/n's side untying their hands and legs. Hobie took his chance and smashed a random discarded wine bottle he found lying somewhere on the man's arm making him yelp in agony.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!?" pavitr yelled. He held him by the collar of his shirt. "WHY DID YOU TAKE THEM!?" He punched him on the right cheek but he kept laughing. "HOW DARE YOU HURT THEM!" A punch on the left cheek and his laughing turned to choked coughs as he spat out blood on the floor. "HOW DARE YOU!" He yelled and kept punching him.

Gwen, y/n and Hobie watched him with wide eyes. They had never seen him so furious. So vengeful. Gwen looked at Hobie who stood behind Pavitr, giving a look. He nodded before walking forward and holding pavitr by his shoulders. "Hey. that's enough, mate."

But to their surprise, Pavitr pushed his hands away and kept punching the now unconscious man. Hobie frowned. "Pav. Let go man. that's enough." He didn't stop.

Y/n watched. This wasn't like him. He wasn't the sweet, charismatic boy who they knew. No, he was a furious and enraged superhuman who had forgotten about the boundaries of being the friendly neighborhood, Spider-Man.

"Pav..." They spoke weakly but loud enough for him to hear. He immediately stopped his movements and looked at them. They had tears in their eyes as They stared at him with fear. Afraid that he'll lose his humanity. He dropped his hands to the side, his blood and the man's blood mixed, dripping from his knuckles. He swiftly walked towards them and kneeled in front of them.

His eyes scanned their body lingering on every cut and bruise. Y/n slowly raised a hand to his cheek and it was enough to break him. He hid his face in the crook of their neck as the tears escaped his eyes.

Gwen and Hobie shared knowing looks and walked out with hobie carrying the unconscious man.

Pavitr hugged y/n and cried in their embrace. "Hey.... I'm okay... it's okay...Pav..." They whispered gently to him.

The hold on their body tightened as he cried. "I- i thought i- l-lost you.." Y/n felt a ache in their heart. He sounded so broken. "I was s-so scared."

It came as a surprise even to y/n. No matter how bad things got or how scared he'd get, Pavitr NEVER showed it on his face. He always kept a charming smile on his face and a few corny jokes up his sleeve to assess the situation. But seeing him break down like this only because of the fear that he'd lose them, it was overwhelming. It was heartwarming. It was endearing.

They took in a shakey breath and hugged him tighter. "Yeah...me too. But hey" they pulled a little back and looked at him in the eyes, "we're okay. you're here... I'm here...yeah?" a reassuring smile on their face, they tried their best to console his racing heart and shaking body.

"B-but y-you're hurt..." He looked down at their wounds but they held him by the chin and made him look at them.

"I'm alive." Their voice was firm and reassuring. "They....they may leave some scars but, nothing serious. I hope you don't mind a little ugliness, Spider boy." They smiled and joked but their voice held some sort of insecurity and fear in it. This didn't go unnoticed by Pavitr.

He always noticed.

He gently cupped their cheeks and looked softly at them. "You were, are, and always will be the most beautiful person to me. In every damn universe and in every damn reality. I will NEVER stop loving you y/n." His words made the tears in their eyes return as they smiled at him.

How can he be so brutally furious one moment and then so sweet and caring the other? 'This boy... he'd be the death of me.' Y/n thought as they looked at his miraculously perfect face.

Pavitr pulled them in for a kiss and they happily gave in hugging him close. When they pulled apart, Pavitr gave them a small smile.

"Now let's get you home." He gently picked them up in his arms and grinned at them.

" I'm pretty sure you missed your dashing boyfriend."

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

Part 8, here’s the LINK to part 7, how tf have I got so far already? Pls comment guys to let me know what you’re thinking or if you have any conspiracy’s about what’s gonna happen, I love the engagement, keeps me motivated lol. Also just a quick shout out I don’t dislike Kelly, I just used her for the story as it’s FICTION, if ya’ll hate desperately on peoples partners for no justified reason then leave pls cos it’s weird. Only a short chapter but I wanna get more of a build up before we reach more deeper into the story :)

Leni wakes up with one of the worst hangovers ever, plus, she’s on the bathroom floor? That would be the worst part of the night, but when her memory pieces back together and she has to deal with what happened the night before going back to sleep on the bathroom floor seems fine… Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24 @larastark3107

“Ugh.” My voice cracked, eyes momentarily opening only to squeeze shut again when a blinding light, sunlight, stung my eyes. My first thought was, fuck, I’d left my contact lenses in, my second, why on earth was on the bathroom floor?

Momentarily I was dazed, my eyes feeling like they had cheese shredders in them. I peeled the dry lenses out of my eyes, dropping them in the toilet. Thankfully it was a clean toilet and I didn’t wake up to my own vomit. With a groan and a slight grace, I sat up straight, blinking around the room. My phone laid besides me, and shakily, I reached out to unlock it. As I did I wanted to curl up and DIE. A drunken text from Max only caused flashbacks from the night prior. We kissed, and I really fucking enjoyed it. Me and Max kissed. Max Verstappen and I, my long time FRIEND kissed. My heavy head dropped into my palm, groaning again. I’d broken every single rule I’d set myself, NOT to go there, or at least wait a few months. Drunken me seemingly had the control of a horny 18 year old. When I realised I had 0 underwear on that’s when I became even more confused.

We hadn’t had sex? No, no. For sure we hadn’t done that. I don’t think he fingered me? Turns out they were stuffed in my bag for some bizarre reason, and I couldn’t quite piece together why on earth they weren’t actually on me. I don’t even know if I wanted to know, thinking about it too much gave me a serious case of hangxiety, and my poor stomach couldn’t tolerate it. Pathetically, I wretched over the toilet and threw up even more contents from my nights intake.

Please God, stop me being sick and I will never drink again. Ever!

It was crazy how such an extreme hungover could bring an atheist to become religious, right? With last nights actions I couldn’t even bring myself to respond to Max, plus, his message made no sense, something about being too drunk and his birthday. I felt too much shame, he probably only kissed me because he was just as fucking plastered. I was confident he’d never want to do that sober, surely not?

The only thing I could do was sit down in the shower, contemplating every single action from the night before, letting the water cleanse my skin of the pure sins. What would my dad say if he knew I’d been snogging his golden boy? It would make it awkward to say the least.

I laid in bed, hair dripping onto the pillows but I didn’t have it in me to care. I’d added too much embarrassing shit to both my private and public Instagram story which had already been viewed and most likely screenshotted thousands of times. Mortified wasn’t even the right word, if it wasn’t for my empty stomach I would’ve vomited from that alone.

Max: sorry that made no sense, hope you’re not feeling too rough this morning? thank you for coming yesterday I had such a good time Max: I hope nothing makes you feel weird from last night, it’s fine between us right?

When I awoke at 2pm I felt my chest tighten at Max’s texts. I even smiled that he had acknowledged last night, a little weird of me seeing as I wanted to pass away earlier, but with my hangover relatively slept off, my feelings for Max were coming on strong.

Leni: hey I just woke up again sorry, I had such a good time, hope you had a good bday

Leni: I don’t feel weird, we’re all good Leni: do you? I caught myself smiling a little too hard, awaiting his reply, when I saw the speech bubble of him forming a response and started giggling, I knew that I was already a goner. I was so deep down afraid of getting my heart broke seeing as Max was fresh out of a relationship (even if he’d mentally checked out) I had to push myself away from any kind of intimate interaction. It had already gone way too far.

Max: no, no not at all

Max: probably the best birthday I’ve had I hated how hard I smiled, my heart kinda sunk when I began overthinking everything I didn’t need to. It all seemed fun now, but how would something between Max and I ever work. What if he decided one day this was all too soon, or if he didn’t actually like me? Our friendship would be screwed forever. I hesitantly locked my phone, staring off into space as I began imagining every scenario possible. I’d have no option but to revert whatever happened between Max and I back into how it was before, if that was even possible. What if Max suddenly thought I was super obsessed with him and I was bugging him by texting him too often?? I scratched my head uncomfortably at the thought, cringing down to my bones at the idea I could possibly be a nuisance to him.

One way to fix this??? Cut communication online from slim to nothing- or as least as I possibly could without growing attached or seeming rude. It was a plan, and it was a plan that commenced today, as much as I didn’t actually want to do it, as long as I didn’t have a sip of alcohol I’d be fine… right?

What could go wrong?

[yesimwriting]

Slow Nights

A/n in a bit of a jason todd mood and i’ve been dealing with the writers block that comes from going through a rough couple of days, so i’m just going with the flow! 

also i feel like the fic world has shifted away from first person, but i was in the mood for it and i write to improve and felt like working on my first person voice😭 pls forgive me   

Summary: There are a lot of risks that come from being a female waitress at a small diner in Gotham. You didn’t realize that one of them would be developing a small crush cautious friendship with the intimidating, broody guy that keeps weird hours and always squeezes himself into the smallest booth near the window with a paper back. 

----

Appreciate the slow nights. That’s what Marta said before my first closing shift, when it was just the two of us and the long window that displayed a nearly empty street. I understood instantly. In Gotham, nothing’s guaranteed. Most criminals--petty or psychotic supervillain--don’t have the decency to wait until nightfall for their crimes. But there’s something about working until 3 AM that’s eerie, like you’re daring some testosterone fueled, ego maniac that’s had a little too much to drink to do rob you. Or worse. 

“You think anyone would notice if we closed early?” It’s not an actual offer, just part of our routine. I ask this question anytime between 1:00 and 2:00 and Marta pretends to contemplate as she wipes down a counter or sweeps or does anything she can to keep busy. Her answer is always something about how Bobby, the owner, has a sixth sense about these kind of things or some other kind of joke that makes Bobby seem like the bottom line obsessed ass he is.

She lets out a small sound at the back of her throat, ending her dutiful organization of plastic protected menus. “I think that boyfriend of yours would.” 

The comment strikes a nerve deep in my stomach. An uncomfortable warmth begins to spread through my face. The fact that she’s straying from her usual joke to poke fun at that amplifies the message. The twitch of her mouth tells me she knows exactly what she’s done. “Oh, he is not--” She’s oddly smug for someone who’s always giving me a warning look when I linger around a certain table too long, a kind of worry that’s so distinctly grandmotherly I can feel the silent warnings against my skin. “He’s a costumer, a regular. That’s it.” 

“Your customer,” her eyes are back on her menus, two of them are stuck together, “Your regular.” She pushes the nail of her thumb between the edge of the barriers. They let go of each other with a soft pop. 

Maybe I always take Jason’s table, but it’s only because everyone else was too scared to at first and now it’s just...routine. Like Marta and I pretending we’d close more than a few minutes early or the way that Adam, my least favorite closing shift partner, never sweeps correctly and always tries to find an excuse to walk me to my car. “Only because everyone else is too scared to talk to him.” 

She hums once, low and disbelieving. “Okay, because you know he--” I frown as Marta struggles to find the words. A part of me wants to tell her she doesn’t need to bother. I know because despite all the teasing, she sees him almost as much as I do. Jason comes in and he’s a living canvas of deep blues and sick yellows and the kind of crimson that has to be fresh. 

That’s what initially broke the ice between us. Marta stayed behind the counter and when I finally walked up to his booth, the first thing I noted was the bloody knuckles and the Jane Austen paperback. He asked for a coffee, black. I brought it to him, along with a damp rag and a few bandaids from the first aid kit in the back. I didn’t think about how weird and kind of silly that was until I was at his table. Taking it back to the kitchen after he had seen it felt even more pathetic so I silently set them down next to the coffee. He barely nodded in acknowledgement before turning to his book. 

When I came back to bring him his check, he looked particularly annoyed as he stared at the pages in front of him. For a second, the potential aggression turned my blood to ice. Awkwardly, I noted the cover and how far into the book he was, so I nervously mumbled the first thing I thought of. “Darcy, right?” He had looked surprised and I quickly jumped to defend myself, “You just um--you look like you’re around the proposal scene and for me, at least, it’s um--it’s equally bad every time.” 

That got his expression to soften a little, enough for him to ask how I had managed to figure out where he was based on his facial expression and how open his book was. After that, it was something else, something that went on until closing and ended with a 20$ tip and a walk to my car. 

 “You’re too smart for that, Mija.” 

Marta’s words bring me back. I nod, the motion hollow. The quick acceptance leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. It’s a betrayal even though Marta didn’t really say anything and nothing she implied was factually wrong. Defensiveness immediately tries to crawl its way out of my throat. There’s a lot I could tell her. It might be so normal for Jason to have his knuckles split that the one time he didn’t, I teased him about it until he threatened to leave early and never come back, but he’s not whatever violence he won’t explain and I won’t ever ask about without a joke barrier for safety. He’s that one smile that makes you feel like you’ve earned something; and the jokes that kind of take you by surprise because you wouldn’t expect someone so physically intimidating to have a sense of humor that lighthearted; and he’s the books he reads, tears through so quickly he almost always has a new cover when he comes in. 

“Yeah,” I mumble, trying to convince myself that this isn’t the betrayal it feels like, “He’s just a regular that’s nice to talk to. It’s not like I ask him to come in or anything.” It’s not like I could, considering I have no way of contacting him. It’s not like he’s a friend I could text. 

The familiar creek of the front door’s tired hinges has Marta raising her eyebrows at me. A customer...around 2 AM...as we’re talking about Jason. There’s a silent understanding between us and the look she gives me isn’t subtle. We both know exactly who it is, so I push myself away from the kitchen counter we’ve been leaning against and grab a pot of coffee before placing a hand on the door that leads to the counters. 

“You ever think the stale coffee isn’t what he comes in for?” 

I still, the words rolling in my chest uncomfortably because the thought doesn’t bother me. At all. I push past the door before she can gage my reaction. 

He’s already in his usual seat--the farthest booth in the back, right next to the window. “Y’know the other day this family came in, three toddlers they could barely keep track of and a newborn in a stroller and the mom trying to get all their orders while the dad filled out the crossword on his phone.” I start pouring the coffee before I’ve even looked at him. “And the part I was most offended by was that he was sitting right there.” 

Jason’s watching me carefully, the curve of his lips gentle, “How dare he?” 

I look up, setting the pot on the table next to his cup. Even though I can practically feel Marta’s gaze on us, I can’t help but indulge in this part of our usual exchange. The moment in which I let myself really look at him, examining each part of his face for new or healing bruises or scratches carefully. 

There’s only one particularly notable mark, but this one is intense, right beneath an eye that’s clearly swollen. “Right?” I force my eyes to focus on anything else.  “We should put up a sign.” 

“VIP treatment,” there’s a shift in his tone that I feel more than hear, a precursor to some comment that toes the line between friendly and something else, “You saying I’m your favorite?” 

He tilts his head slightly, eyes watching my expression with a carefulness that’s tangible. That’s part of how he plays into the space between casual and flirty, through the small things. “Well, you are my best tipper.” 

Jason frowns, pushing himself a little further into his seat as if physically moved by his offense. “So that’s all I’m good for?” 

I roll my eyes, ignoring the dangerous warmth settling in my chest. “You never stop me when I start talking about books, so I guess you’re good for that, too.” 

“You guess?” 

Scoffing, I let my attention fall to the seat across from him. It’s not like I sit with him every time he comes in, if he comes in during daylight hours it’s usually impossible. But nights are different...

Marta’s words come back, a little heavier now. 

Jason takes a quick sip of his coffee and looks over at the space in front of him. “...You guys busy?” 

There’s something there, trying to hide in the way the sentence comes out. The glue that holds us together is the unspoken-ness of all of it. He never mentions the bandaids and wet rags I bring when he needs them unless he’s making a joke about it. And I never bring up the regularity of his presence. 

“Oh, yeah,” I joke, moving to sit across from him, “You should know how busy 2AM is for us by now.” I tap my nails against the surface of the table. “We might have to move you.” 

Jason lets out a small sound that’s somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Thought this was my table?” 

I shrug, trying my best to not seem too amused. “You were getting too comfortable.” He keeps one hand on the table, relaxing in his seat as he waits for me to continue. “Can’t have you thinking I like you or anything.” 

He inhales, letting the silence between us linger. There’s a fragile quality to the space between words that has me focusing on his physical appearance again. I did miss something. Not a bruise or a cut, but the bags beneath his eyes that seem deeper today than they usually are and the shadow tainting his expression and the fact that he hasn’t even mentioned the book he brought in with him. 

“I believe you.” 

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm because I’m supposed to. There’s no place for that kind of worry, no where for it all to go. He’s just someone that comes in for his coffee. Just someone that keeps me company during closing and sometimes makes a boring afternoon shift more entertaining. “Shut up.” 

Jason doesn’t immediately jump to push at what’s clearly a hollow response. The silence eases itself back into existence. Normally lulls like this make me feel flighty or like I need to say anything to make sure I’m not the awkward one. But there’s no stiffness that I feel the need to fight against, it’s just us.

Even though Marta’s definitely only pretending not to watch us as she wipes down the counter that I already cleaned, it really is just me and him, and when it’s like that, it’s easy to talk. Sure, we wrap the layers of heavier stuff in layers of teasing fluff and bad jokes, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. 

“That eye makes you a little hard to look at.” 

He scoffs, his lips pulling downwards. “Ouch. That hurt worse than the punch, sweetheart.” 

My nose wrinkles. “Did not.” 

“Bruised feelings are--” 

I groan before he can get the rest of his words out, “Do not say ‘as bad as a bruised face’.” 

Jason’s mouth stays partially open, like the second half of his sentence hasn’t realized that it has no where to go. There’s something kind of funny about easily over 6′, looks like he belongs in some kind of alley Jason glaring at me like an offended goldfish. “You’re mean.” 

“And you’re cheesy,” I counter, leaning a little closer as my forearms relax on the table, “I’m just saying you need to take better care of your face, it’s one of your better qualities.”

Oh no. The realization that I’ve made a mistake doesn’t settle until the words are already out of my mouth. Jason’s relaxed posture as he reaches for his coffee makes it clear that he’s noticed, too. I blink, pained at the realization that there’s no where to backtrack to. 

He takes a long sip of dark liquid before setting the cup between us. “One of my better qualities?” 

The nail of my thumb presses into the wood of the table. “Okay, I said ‘your face was one of your better qualities’, it’s not like I called you hot.” 

Jason smiles in a way that’s so damn knowing, “I know.” 

“Then why are you smiling?” 

He shrugs, still too amused, “Maybe I missed you.” 

That’s...new. Sure, he’s been gone for a few days but that’s nothing crazy. It wasn’t even the longest stretch of time he’s disappeared for. All that matters is that Jason’s here more days than he’s not. All that matters is that he eventually comes back and things always feel like he never left. 

Part of the reason that it works so seamlessly is because we never talk about his absence (with the exception of me making a joke that must have been cheating on me and him swearing he could never). I never mention that when he does come back, he usually has more marks on his skin than usual...or the fact that I worry. 

“Maybe I missed you, too.” It feels like a confession, a weight peeling itself off of my chest. “Even though you’re a total dork.” 

“I’m the dork?” 

“The ‘one black coffee’ order is trying way too hard for you not to be.” It’s an argument we’ve had before. Black coffee with no additives in the middle of the night, like he’s working at being mysterious even though he cracks open as easily as whatever book he’s reading. 

He sits up a little straighter, an argument that likely insults my coffee order clearly ready. The squeak of the front door’s hinges steal the spotlight before Jason can get it out. 

I turn my head, looking past the booth and down the aisle. A group of four guys have already stumbled in. I instinctually stand. One of the guys is laughing, slurring out some story I can’t make out as his friend tries to push off of his shoulder as he sways. The shortest starts to laugh as well, punching his friend in the arm as he gestures vaguely towards me. Great. 

“We’re closing.” Marta’s voice is firm as she makes her presence clear. 

“You close at 3:00,” the tallest one challenges her, stepping further into the space, “That’s what it says on the door...and...” He makes a show of turning over his wrist and checking his watch, “It’s only...2:53.” The number comes out so slurred it twists in my stomach. He shuffles towards the counter, a look that’s too sharp to not feel sober taking over his expression, “That’s not a problem, is it?” 

“It’s fine.” My lips press together after the sentence, hoping that Marta feels safe enough to stay out of it. “I’ll seat them.” 

I grab a few menus from the hostess counter that Marta stocked for the morning shift. I lead them to the first table that’s angled away from the counter. Marta’s jumpy and not always good at hiding it. Besides, I like the thought of anything shady happening farther from Marta. She has some issues with her right knee and she refuses to get it looked at. If things ever came down to running... 

I force the thought out of my head as I set a menu down in front of the seats. 

“Thank you, love.” The tall one--when did he get so close. 

I nod once, attempting a polite smile that hopefully hides my nerves as I try to side step around him. The back of my arm hits something firm. “Woah.” Something squeezes my shoulder and my entire body turns to stone. “Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be so jumpy.” 

The taller one angles his body to the left, subtly blocking off my original plan of escape. Part of Marta’s face is blocked by the man’s shoulder, but I can still make out her concern. Her lips part and I want her help as much as I dread it. 

“Hey, babe--” Jason. The strangers, weirdly aware for how inebriated they seemed earlier, take their time looking at Jason. They take him and the implication of his presence in quickly. I’m released at a speed that I can barely register. Even the tallest one takes a step back to give me the space to breathe. “You almost done?” 

Even though the babe clued me into his strategy almost immediately (Jason’s nicknames choices are usually more creative), it takes a second for my thoughts to catch up with the rest of me. “Yeah, after them we should be good to go home.” 

Jason takes his time looking over at each of the strangers in a way that could pass as casual if it wasn’t for the lock of his jaw. Maybe if I wasn’t used to him, used to the way he looks when we debate plot points and recommend music to each other, his expression would seem less distinct. But I do know him, know the way he tends to shrink in on himself when little kids are running around the diner so he doesn’t seem overly intimidating. 

“Take your time,” he finally manages, attention falling back to me. I’m so distracted by the tension melting in my stomach that I barely register Jason moving towards me. I don’t know what he’s doing until his arm’s comfortably wrapped around my shoulders. Something in my chest jumps. I don’t think we’ve ever touched before. “I can be here all night.” 

He’s so warm. “Shouldn’t be long, babe.” 

“Hm.” He gives my shoulder one last, assuring squeeze before stepping back. He doesn’t go far, sitting at the counter instead of his usual seat in the back. Less than a foot away.

Jason’s proximity gives me the confidence to go through the whole waitress bit, “Can I get you guys started with something to drink?” 

The tall one looks over at his friends, awkwardly clearing his throat before saying, “Could we just get some waters to go? I’d hate to keep you past closing.” 

I now get the concept of scary dog privileges better than ever before. “Yeah, we can do that.” 

The excuse to get behind the counter, back to Jason and Marta is unbelievably relieving. I’m there in almost an instant. Marta’s already pouring water into to-go cups. 

“You okay?” Jason’s voice is low, eyes so soft it’s hard to believe that a second ago he was intimidating to anyone.

I nod once, “Yeah.” And I really am. The group was menacing and they got a little close than most creepy guys do, but it’s not the first time a group of guys found entertainment in terrorizing a waitress at the end of a long night out. “Drunk assholes are just a...work hazard.” 

My attempt to brush off the incident doesn’t seem to work. Instead of easing, Jason’s jaw locks again. “That happen a lot?” 

I shrug, kind of regretting saying anything. It’s not like I’m constantly in danger, but waitresses are easy prey. They have to be somewhat nice to you and they’re stuck in place. And we’re in Gotham, any type of assault case is low on the authority’s priority list, which makes it low risk. “You’re here most nights, Jay, you know it’s usually empty.” 

He nods once, the motion stiff. His unasked question sits between us: what about when I’m not here? I don’t want to get into the whole thing, so maybe it’s a good thing I have to go back and give the guys their waters. It’ll give me a chance to regroup an go back to something lighter. Those guys and all this tension have taken enough of our reunion away from us. 

I look over at the counter and the styrophone cups are gone. The one time I want an excuse to walk away from Jason is the one time Marta goes out of her way to leave us alone.

Marta re-enters the space behind the counter. “They paid, they’re leaving.” As if on cue, the door’s signature squeak overlaps with the last syllable. “And we’re finally closed.”

“Finally.” 

With no warning, Jason leans over the counter and grabs a napkin off of the stack kept next to the soda machine. “You have a pen?” 

What? Before I can ask where the sudden urge to draw something came from, Marta wordlessly hands over the pen attached to her apron. That level of acknowledgement from her throws me through a loop. Technically, she’s not even working anymore so the pen thing was completely voluntary. 

Jason accepts her offer slowly, as if worried that there’s a chance he’ll startle her and force her to either run off or stab him. Marta does give the energy that she could either way. 

“What are you doing?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look up at me in acknowledgement. “Are you trying to draw their faces from memory in case they need--” 

Jason slides over the napkin wordlessly so that 10 evenly written digits face me, two dashes dividing the numbers into two segments of three and one of four. A phone number. “This is--” 

“If anyone like that shows up again, you can text me and I’ll...I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

The confirmation that this is his phone number hits me straight in the chest, and the reasoning behind the gesture forces the feeling to linger. Here’s Jason, always careful to never reveal too much about himself and he’s...he’s trusting me. I turn my head enough to look at Marta, who just nods patiently. That’s different. 

I pick up the napkin like it might dissolve into nothing between my fingertips. “So basically I call if I have a problem, and you come and beat it up.” 

“Basically.”

I stare at the number again, studying the surprising neatness of the line they’re in like it can reveal something new about the person that wrote them. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but the gesture feels heavy. “Thanks.” 

Jason briefly angles his chin downwards in a subtle version of a nod, “Don’t mention it.” He probably means that literally, so I just set the napkin back down and fold it neatly. “Anything for my fake girlfriend.” 

“Fake girlfriend of two minutes.” 

He leans a little closer, “A natural two minutes.”

I don’t even try to disguise my probably too smug laugh, “For you, maybe.” 

“You caught on a little fast.” I narrow my eyes. “Leaned into--”

“I think the person that gave you that black eye also gave you brain damage.” The jokes are easy to not to mind when they’re about him being obsessed with me, not the other way around.

Jason presses his lips together in what could be either an attempt at sulking or scowling, it’s hard to tell with his eyes that soft. “It’s like being punched again.”

“Dramatic.” I fight to keep my expression flat as I step back from the counter. “I’m gonna change and grab my bag, then you can walk me to my car.” 

He scoffs, a brief puff of air that’s pretending to be more annoyed than it is. “Someone’s bossy.”

I turn towards the door that leads to a small break room, “Fake boyfriend duties.” 

The door to the break room shuts before he can say anything else. I put the napkin Jason gave me into my bag before changing out of my uniform and into sweats. Normally, knowing that I don’t have to work for two days is nothing but relieving. It’s still a relaxing thought, but something about it also makes me feel like I’m stuck. Maybe it’s the fact that Jason just came back and the next time I work will be a lunch shift--which is, for whatever reason, the shift he’s least likely to crash. 

I won’t see or talk to him for a few days, and that’s long enough for him to disappear again. More days, more weeks. 

Forcing those thoughts down somewhere deep, I roll my shoulders before grabbing my bag and shutting my locker. We still have the moments that take to get to my car, and that’s all whatever friendship we have is...tiny moments. 

“Okay,” I announce my return to the main area, “You ready?” 

He’s already standing, the book we never got to held loosely in one hand. “I was waiting for you.”

I hold my hands up in defense even though this is far from his most annoyed response. “Someone’s moody.” 

He sighs, taking a step towards me. I barely have the chance to pull my bag off of me before Jason hooks a finger around it’s strap. He swings it onto his shoulder easily. the walk to the parking lot is short, but Jason always takes my bag. I’m not sure how it started, but like most of us, it happened on accident and stuck. 

“Moody?” 

The word is repeated back to me with an offense that’s punctuated by a hint of surprise. It’s a fair reaction. Now that I’m thinking about it, the word feels like it’s underserving him. It’d be easy to take in Jason’s general vibe and sum him up as mostly angsty or just another tough guy born on the streets of Gotham.

We reach the door. “Eh...you’ve got layers.” 

He almost smiles, “Really?” I can feel his smugness growing and I’m glad that I’m in a position to open the door and step away from it. My hand moves forward. Jason shifts, angling himself in a way that leaves me still. He’s not blocking my escape, not really, but the implication of how close he’s standing is enough to make me still. “What are they?”

The air in my lungs jams itself in my throat mid breath. 

“I’m ready to lock up if--” Marta stops halfway between the tables and the door. Something about her expression makes proximity that felt innocent moments before off. “If you’re ready to go.” 

“Uh--yeah,” I hum, placing a hand on the door, “I’m--yeah, I’m--” I push the front door open as if that will prove my point, “We’re good.” 

Marta nods slowly, “Okay.” 

I walk out and Jason follows. After a second, Marta appears behind us. She mumbles a general goodnight instead of pointedly tacking my name onto it before getting into her car and driving off. 

Jason opens my car door for me. I get in, take my bag back, and turn on my car even though Jason’s still standing there and the door’s still open. “Your tire pressure--” 

I shake my head dismissively, ignoring the symbol that’s lit up on my dashboard. “I’m getting to it.” He gives me a look and I sigh. “I’ll go this week, mom.” 

“Funny.” He leans closer to my car with no warning, head peaking in to examine my dash. Nosy.

“Relax, I got my oil changed.” 

He eases a bit at that, moving back to where he was before. “After I told you to for a week.” 

“It was not a week.” It did come close, though. It was getting close to the end of the semester and my car wasn’t a priority. Plus, Jason’s lectures about it were a little entertaining and gave me another piece of information to file away about him. “Maybe I liked your car rants.”

“Yeah?” 

I shrug, relaxing into my seat, “You knew a lot of technical words.” 

The corner of his mouth turns up slightly, “So that’s what you’re into?” 

“You wish,” my return is a little slower, the early stages of drowsiness finally getting a chance to catch up to me now that things are calm. 

Jason frowns, eyes lingering on my expression. I guess I don’t pass his inspection because he says, “You should get home.” 

I nod, hoping no disappointment is visible on my face. “Yeah, it is kinda late.” My hand finds the handle of the car’s door. “See you around, dork.” 

Jason throws me a look, half glaring, “Night, loser.”

With one last look, I shut the door. I turn my attention to the steering wheel. Just drive. A part of me wants to linger, to maybe say something else. But there’s nothing else. 

In an attempted compromise, I reach into my bag and pull out the napkin. The numbers aren’t as easy to make out in the dark, so I have to squint to type them into my phone. This is normal. I mean, I might have a reason to text him later and if he doesn’t know that this is my number, he might ignore it or miss it or--

Ugh. Before I can over think it, I type a short text: it’s Y/n. Even though there’s no way for that to come off as weird, I’m glad I have an excuse to shove my phone back into my bag and not look at it for at least 15 minutes. 

----

This bag should be called the black hole, because the moment you need something, it’s swallowed into an abyss. I’ve found multiple sticks of gum, a handful of change, and a chapstick I thought I lost weeks ago, but not my keys. 

I sigh, picking up my phone so that I can use the flashlight. Before I can swipe to get the option, my attention shifts to the recent notifications. Two texts my phone has labeled as being from maybe: Jason. The first his just his name. The second is a longer message saying that I already knew that, because he’s the one that gave me this number. It’s a distinction that’s so specific and particular it’d feel a little awkward coming from anyone else. 

I let myself think about it for a second before swiping the message open. I type out a reply before erasing it. Another moment of deliberation passes before the words come to me. I type it out and hit send in the same breath. You’re lucky you’re pretty. 

I drop my phone back into my bag and shift around the contents. The void must have taken another victim, because it’s finally spit up my keys.

----

A/n i could see myself making a part 2 to this where this reader meets redhood and doesnt know its jason bc i was originally going to make this longer, but idk! 

[thetriplets3]

can u do prompt 17(i think) from the needing comfort list — ‘you bought me chocolate/flowers’ — with matt plz !! its okay if not ! have a great dayy 🩵

haven't written in a while so hopefully this is good thank you for your request. send some more in

key to my heart

One thing I’ve always loved about Matt is how he will go lengths to make sure feel better and brighten up your darkest days.

Matt’s been by my side for a few years now, he’s the first person I want to tell anything to, a shoulder to cry on, and a comforting presence. When life gets hectic and things gets flipped over Matt is always the one to come and turn your world back around. I never know where I stand with Matt. He does things a boyfriend would do but we’ve never discussed our feeling with each other.

This week was exhausting to say the least. I’ve become the therapist amongst my friends, it’s a blessing and a curse to feel things so deeply. I give my undivided attention to anyone who needs an ear to listen to their problems and give my best advice but at the same time I absorb all their negative energy and I carry their problems. They pass the weight holding them down onto me, quickly slowing me down. That’s the downside to being the one who listens because no one thinks to listen to the listener. They don’t think how heavy it is for one person to hold all that.

I can’t take it anymore, I only have so much room to carry things and it’s filling up quickly. My space is full of others problems and there’s no room for my own thoughts or feeling. So that’s where I am now, curled up under the covers in the dark trying to feel something, anything but everyone’s problems. Turning my phone on do not disturb I see a few messages from Chris covering the ones from Matt.

chris 🍊

please answer us

helloooo??

i know you hate notifications so i know for a fact you’ve seen this

don’t ignore

at least message matt pls he’s worried

love you kid we’re here whatever it is

matt 🥤

y/n

what’s wrong why aren’t you answering any of us?

are you okay? i need to know you’re okay i’m worried

no one has heard or seen you in a few days

i know somethings up this isn’t like you

let me in let me help you

Flipping my phone face down so I don’t have to look at it, I let out a shaky breathe. The silence becomes too much all the stories and problems are all coming forth, shouting and talking over each other. Not knowing how to make it stop I let out a desperate sob wanting nothing more than for someone to listen to me like I do for them. Both mentally and physically exhausted I drifted off into a much needed nap.

My eyes squint open looking at my clock. Only a 40 minute nap. The dryness in my mouth makes me get up to go grab a drink from the kitchen, but not before wrapping a blanket around me.

Slowly and heavy lidded I trudge down the stairs, halting when my eyes meet the island. Flowers. No one’s ever given me flowers before. The thought of how they got in here escapes you, being drawn towards the yellow flowers, my favorite color. Attached to the bouquet is a little note in chicken scratch I could recognize anywhere.

My heart flutters as a pout replaces the empty look on my face. “My favorite” I gasp. A happy sigh leave my lips as I bring the bouquet to my nose to give them a sniff.

“I knew you’d love them” you voice full of love and softness.

“Matt! Holy shit you can’t do that to me” I pant with a hand over my chest.

“Sorry” you say sheepishly.

“You bought me flowers?” I ask softly.

“You told me tulips were your favorite and I thought yellow ones would make you even happier”

“That was 2 years ago I didn’t think you’d remember. I don’t think anyone would remember that” I scoff.

“When you care, you remember. If it’s important to you it’s worth remembering” You say. “You’re worth it”

Placing the flowers on the table I walk towards you. Sensing an impending hug you open your arms and pull me into your chest.

“I know you’re always there for everyone else to let their guard down but you need someone to be there for you. Stop putting up walls let me be that person. Let me in okay I love you and you don't have to feel alone” you say as your one hand rubs circles on my back and the other cradling my head to your chest, immediately bringing me comfort I didn't know I was missing.

“I know. I'll let you in might take a while. I love you Matty" I whisper into your neck.

"We'll work on it I'm here for you"

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs

[grimreaperschild]

bones

summary: you and your housemates are thrown into a completely different world and for some reason they all look to you for answers

warnings: angst, character death, gore

a/n: this was so fun to write, definitely want to make this a series! give me your thoughts and mdni pls-🦷

———————————————————————

you’re shaken awake by chad, you slap his hands away trying to roll over “y/n wake up- please there’s something on the news- tara liv and quin are out- somethings wrong.” his voice is shrill, his tone showing you how scared he is your up in an instant booking it to the living room where your housemates are, mindy and anika are sat hand in hand starting at the tv, sams pacing ethan is sat on the floor looking white as a ghost chad comes behind you looking concerned, you turn your attention to the tv “breaking news! people all around the world are going rabid some are saying it’s a side affect of the new covid-19 virus please stay inside until further notice” the same message playing on repeat.

that has you pulling your phone out of your pocket, pressing your girlfriend tara’s contact with shaky fingers, it rings 3 times before she picks up “baby! we are nearly home, open the door” she sounds breathless you don’t say anything as you try to walk to the door, failing miserably you all but sprint to your front door throwing it open with a bang just in time to see a homeless man giving chase to the 3, you don’t remember moving but the next thing you know your down your steps and running towards them, you get there just as he pounces on quin she lets out a scream as he takes her to the floor you haul him off her punching him square in the nose a sickening crunch is heard as he falls “fuck” you hiss shaking out your hand, he makes a move to jump up but before you can do anymore damage tara is pulling you by your arm “y/n leave it come on please we need to get to the house” you don’t argue.

as soon as the door slams shut your pulling the smaller girl into your arms checking every inch of her “tara are you hurt, what happened” she relaxes into your hold and snuggles into you “im ok we were on our way back from the mall and people just started screaming and chasing each other we ran home as fast as we could” a yell comes from the living room and you follow the noise hand in hand with tara, ethan is stood pointing at quin red in the face sam is stiff bedside him liv and chad are standing protectively behind quin who looks like she’s about to throw up.

you quickly stand between the group hands raised “whoa, what the fuck is going on guys” you question voice soft but firm, they all start explaining at the same time “ok ok i can’t understand you if you all talk over each other like this” you point at ethan who still has his hand raised “why are you yelling” this snaps him out of his trance as he starts pacing again “she’s bit y/n that dude bit her, this is zombie apocalypse 101 she’s gonna turn im telling you we need to get her out” you raise your eyebrow at sam “your with him on this one? didn’t take you for a paranoia kinda girl” she shrugs her shoulders “somethings not right, i can feel it” you turn to quin “that homeless dude bit you?” she nods tears spilling out over her cheeks “ok, i think we all need to calm down, t could you make everyone some hot chocolate? im gonna clean quin up” she nods and makes her way into the kitchen. ethan throws his hands up “what your just letting her stay” he takes a menacing step towards her “ethan calm down we don’t know anything yet last thing we need is you trying to kill people because you read too many comic books” chad says getting up in his face pushing him back, you have to step in again “first of all it’s a tv show as well as comics and we don’t need you going all hero right now either, sit” you point to the sofa “you too ethan” you turn and give him a pointed look he frowns but sits anyway, you grab quins shoulders and steer her to the bathroom.

she’s sat on the toilet seat while you clean the bite he managed to sink his teeth in good, right where her neck meets her shoulder, you put pressure on to stop the slow trickle of blood “do you think ethan’s right” she’s shaking and your not sure if it’s from the adrenaline or the way she’s been softly crying this whole time “i don’t think so q, i mean if you were gonna catch some virus it would have been from that goblin i found in the kitchen last week” she giggles at that finally cracking a smile “yeah i made a bad choice with that one huh” “you make quite a few bad choices” you take the cloth off her shoulder readying the hydrogen peroxide “this is gonna hurt like a bitch” you warned, she nods you pour a hefty amount onto a clean cloth and press it to her shoulder, she lets out a cry and a fresh wave of tears spill out of her eyes “im sorry q, nearly done” she doesn’t say anything else as you put a patch over the bite.

3 soft knocks on the door as it opens and tara pokes her head in “hey hot chocolates made” she smiles half heartedly “go on i’ve told ethan to quit it” she smiles at you gratefully slipping past tara and out of sight, your shoulders slump as soon as the door closes tara gives you a once over with her eyes and points to the counter top, you oblige happily jumping up and opening your legs so she can stand between them. she takes your hand gently in her own you didn’t even realise you were bleeding till she started the cleaning process, she places a soft kiss to your bandaged knuckles when she’s done looking up at you with adoration in her eyes “thank you for coming to the rescue baby” you smile leaning your head forward to rest against hers “i’ll always be there to get you out of trouble love, you know that” she giggles pressing a soft kiss to your lips “my knight in shining armour” she fake swoons hands over her heart blinking rapidly, you chuckle jumping off the counter having to peer down at the girl as she only stood at 5’2 to your 5’7.

as you enter the room hand in hand with tara everyone is sat solemnly with cups and biscuits in there hands, you take your seat on the main sofa in-front of the tv it’s still blearing the same emergency broadcast “will someone please shut that off” chad looks up at you “huh- oh yeah sorry” he clicks the tv off and the room is plunged into an uncomfortable silence, you start to regret asking for it off you feel tara place a reassuring hand on your thigh as you notice that everyone’s looking at you as if waiting for you to speak, fuck when did i become the appointed leader you take a sip of your drink before talking the tension in the room growing with every passing second “ok so obviously no one’s going outside” wow y/n good job. you mentally kick yourself as you stand walking over to the window and opening the curtain to take a look out on the street.

what you see makes you stagger backwards hitting into the coffee table the mugs nearly falling off you think for a second you imagined it throwing the curtains open with a new sense of urgency your heart drops to the pit of your stomach with the realisation that you had seen it perfectly the first time, there was a little girl couldn’t have been older than 5 or 6 laying in the middle of the road a woman was hunched over with her back to the window pulling her guts out of the massive tear in her stomach and shoving them in her mouth with such eagerness youd think it was her first meal in years, you gag as she pulls some intestine out your vaguely aware of someone closing the curtain but that does nothing for you the image still burned fresh in your mind.

anika runs to the kitchen sink and starts hurling and that snaps you out of your daze spinning on your heel you take in the carnage, quin is nowhere to be found sams pacing again mindys sobbing into a pillow liv and chad are holding eachother and ethan is running to join anika at the sink, tara as always is stood dutifully by your side tears running down her face she’s shaking and for the first time you take in what she’s wearing, a blue long sleeved tank top and jeans she looks good. you take your jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders hoping to give her some comfort before you turn to the group “ok sam i need you” your proud of how clear your voice is, you sound strong the complete opposite of what your currently feeling.

sams eyes meet yours “windows we need to board up the windows and the door, can you do that for me” she nods moving swiftly to the basement door opening it and disappearing out of view, you turn surveying the rest of the group “chad, go help her” he doesn’t move “chad it’s gonna be ok you just have to listen” that gets him moving, your attention falls to mindy she’s still crying but it’s not as bad as before she’s shaking like a leaf, you sit next to her putting an arm around her shoulders “i need you and tara to do something for me ok?” tara perks up at the mention of her name listening intently “i need you guys to get all the food in the house and log it in a book” mindy nods grateful to have something to distract her.

as the 4 of you make your way into the kitchen you see ethan and anika pale sat with there backs to each other keeping close, “you tryna steal my girl landry?” mindy quips that brings a smile to everyone’s faces, it’s gonna be fine mindys still cracking jokes “ethan i need you in the livingroom now please, anika help these 2” with that you turn walking to your room grabbing 2 notepads and a bunch of pens and setting them out on the coffee table “everything we know about zombies or anything like that, no matter how stupid we write down ok?” ethan grabs a notepad and starts scribbling instantly, your mind turns to quin now everyone’s occupied you make your way cautiously to her room knocking softly, you hear a whimper from the other side and you open the door.

“quin?” shes stood with her back too you and there’s a purplish blue hue to her skin around the bite “quin you don’t look so good are you ok?” she stumbles as she turns and her eyes are a yellow colour leaking blood that falls off her cheeks and hits the carpet with a deafening put put put “shit” is all you get out before she lunges for you, your scream cut off by all the air being driven out of your lungs as your back hits the floor, she’s grabbing at your arms that are holding her as far away from you as humanly possible her jaw snapping wildly, you yell out as her hands find your face trying to pull you up to meet her, sam appears out of nowhere with a knife in her hands tara and ethan hot on her heels she lets out something that resembles a war cry as she sinks the knife into quins back it makes a squelching noise as she pulls it out, it makes you shudder. quin doesn’t even flinch her ginger hair getting in your eyes as your arms burn with the weight of keeping her up “the brain you have to kill the brain” ethan screames “i cant- fuck i cant i cant do it im gonna drop her” you wheeze out fighting with all your strength to keep her snapping jaws away from you. sam throws the knife down with all her might on the back of quins head just as your arms give out you scream and writhe around as her lifeless body falls ontop of you.

tara pulls you out from under her slamming the door shut as she pulls you into her chest arms coming around your shoulders, your breath coming out in short raged gasps as you try to calm down “shhhh shhh it’s over baby, i’ve got you everything’s ok” she coos to you rocking you back and fourth “my sweet girl shhh” your breath evens out and you clutch at her, you rise shakily to your feet eying the door suspiciously “im not bit” a collective sigh of relief could be heard “we have stuff to do guys common, sam i want this door boarded up asap” you let yourself be pulled away and into tara’s lap it must look comical with the size difference but you don’t care.

one by one the group finishes there tasks and takes there respective seats all glassy eyes and staring into the distance the shock that we lost one of our own settling in, your not sure what the fuck had happened in the last couple of hours but you knew you’d fight tooth and nail to keep the ones you loved alive.

[spidrstar]

HE AINT SHIT pt 1.

★ pairings: aged up e!42 miles!morales x latina!reader

★ slowburn? maybe?? idk.. (prob not) characters are 18+ in this story they’re in their mid twenties. mentions of going to the club

★ warnings: as i write this story it will be slightly suggestive in some parts, if that bothers u dni.. LMAO

★ a/n: pls enjoy i put a lot of effort into this 🥹 i’ll be adding a link to a playlist i made you could listen to when reading abt miles lmk what y’all think.

★ summary: You’re tired of a sad excuse of a man you call your boyfriend making empty promises, so one night you decide not to let your time out go to waste and you step into a club. Someone catches your eye, and maybe your number too.

★ part 2

mwah

“Had a chance you still never came through

You say you wanna come see me

‘Cause your girlfriend wanna be me, uh”

- long way 2 go : cassie

Mouthing these lyrics you look up and smile at yourself in the mirror, clipping on your gold hoops in between your ear lobes. Absolutely loving your look tonight, it only made your smile grow wider knowing exactly what this look was for.

A date

It had been a while since you’ve gone on a date, your last date was about a month ago since you started dating your boyfriend, Kole. You had started to think he really wasn’t taking your relationship seriously after the 3rd time he stood you up, but 2 nights ago he smothered you in kisses and had promised you he would make it up to you by quote on quote ‘rocking your world’ tonight. The thought only making you chuckle lightly.

So of course you being the girl you are, you made sure you looked your best tonight. You had wore your newly bought two piece red lace set from victoria’s secret, not only that but you basically showered yourself in your veryyy expensive perfume. You made sure this night was going to be perfect. You finished curling your hair the way Kole liked and twisted the cable around the curling iron, leaving it out on your desk to cool down.

You clipped on your gold necklace with your name written in cursive and took one last look at your makeup close up, making sure it hadn’t creased. You tapped on your phone with a freshly manicured acrylic, the screen reading 7:40 pm. Your date was at 8 o’clock and you made sure you were going to be there on time. You stood up from your vanity and headed to your shoe rack and picked out your black heels, stepping into them you grab your black Kate Spade purse and headed towards the door.

Keys in hand, you tap your phone noticing you had 10 minutes left to be there on time. You rush into the elevator down the hall and press the 1A button. As you walked out of your building you rummage through your keychains finding your car keys and pressing the unlock button. 6 minutes left, you drove over to the new Italian restaurant that opened up down the block. Luckily for you, there was a parking spot right in front of the restaurant waiting for you. You paid for the parking spot and headed in, taking a quick look at your travel size mirror making sure you looked as cute as you did when you stepped out the house.

You headed in, making sure the lady at front seated you in your reserved seat you asked for a cup of water. Your mouth felt dry because for some reason you felt nervous, it has been a while since you’ve been out on a fancy date so maybe you forgot the feeling. You waited what felt like 10 minutes, the cup already empty you tapped your phone on the table and it read 8:10 pm. You unlocked it and pressed imessage. You felt slight anger and sadness, in high hopes of Kole not pulling the same shit he does on every date. Sending half angry messages, you checked the last message he had sent you was at 2:30 pm. You scoffed and thought, ‘Huh, guess that’s how much i truly mean to him.’

my love❣️: where are you??

my love❣️: Kole te lo juro, if i don’t see you walk through the entrance in the next 5 minutes.

my love❣️: I can’t believe you’re doing this shit again.

You set your phone down sighing, your lips curling down into a slight frown. You decided to wait it out, hoping he was playing some sick joke on you. More than a few minutes had passed and you tapped your phone again, this time it read 8:38 pm. You got up from your seat angrily, heading towards the front desk lady letting her know you would be leaving. You stormed out of the restaurant, you were so eager to try their food and your ‘boyfriend’ stood you up again. You had put so much effort into getting ready for him tonight, really believing he would keep his promise. Heading to your car a thought popped into your head, glancing across the street and reading a sign that read Starry Nights in neon blue. You glanced back at the time you had paid for your parking, and you had plenty of time left.

You basically speed walked to the club entrance, you weren’t going to let all your effort go to waste. You stepped into the club scanning for a bar, as you so desperately needed a drink to drown the sadness from being stood up for the 4th time. You pushed your way through once you had spotted it and sat down with a sigh, asking the barista for the strongest drink they had. While waiting you took in your surroundings, noticing all the different color dimmed lights. Watching all the people dancing closely against each other you had the urge to go and let loose but you didn’t. You held back, you weren’t reallyy in the mood and the last thing you needed was some creep trying to take you home.

You turned around checking if the barista was done with your drink, but had noticed they were making other orders too. So whilst you kept patiently waiting, you picked up your phone and checked your notifications in hopes of Kole answering. Oh how wrong you were, you read ‘no new notifications’ and closed your eyes and let out a long breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. What you needed was something, someone to distract you from this situation before you started bursting out into tears. No matter how angry you were, you knew you were still hurt.

Glancing to the side searching for a distraction you notice a tall dark skinned male with two braids flowing down his neck, interested you eye the rest of him down and he wore black cargo pants with a plain black t-shirt complimented by a silver chain, a purple zip up accompanying it and a pair of limited edition air jordans.

You quickly drag your eyes back up in hopes of catching what his face looked like, instead you hear the barista place your drink in front of you. You turn your head giving them a smile uttering out a quick ‘Thank you’ and turning back around. The barista seemed to have been making both yours and his order at once because he also had a freshly poured drink in his grip.

Your eyes glistening with anticipation wanting oh so bad to see what this man looked like. He finally turned his head enough for you to get a view of his side profile, a fresh fade and a shiny silver stud clinging onto his earlobe complimenting his strong jawline and cute dimples. He smiled at the barista and turned his head in your direction, you quickly diverted your attention elsewhere taking a sip from your cup nervously.

He grinned at your reaction and spoke up, “You here by yourself nena?” you perked up and turned to look at him again surprised by his low husky voice. “Yeah,” you say with a hint of embarrassment and sadness, you stared at the ground. He turned his body full attention on you eyeing you up and down. If looks could kill you would probably be dead by now from the way his half hooded eyes stared at you. His grin slightly grew, “And whys that? Te ves demasiado bella para que estés aquí sola.” A slight giggle escaped your lips at that comment and you looked up at him again, “Bueno, let’s just sayy someone made empty promises. I got stood up.” He scoffed as if he didn’t believe you.

“Some balls you gotta have to do that to a girl like you. What’s your name preciosa?” You smile at the nickname he gave you, moving slightly closer you answered. “Y/N, and yours?” his hand found its way to your waist gripping it slightly. Looking at you eyes half lidded he answered, “Miles.” You stared at his lips, even the way he said his name was attractive. You both stared at each other for what felt like 20 seconds and got lost in the moment, leaning closer into each other, lips inches apart. That was until you snapped out of it and thought, ‘i have a boyfriend i can’t be doing this.’ You had just realized how close you both were and turned your head to the side slightly moving his hand from your waist.

Even though you were mad and didn’t want to admit it in that moment, you still loved Kole and you weren’t sure if you really wanted to throw your relationship down the drain just like that for a guy you had just met. As good as he looks you wouldn’t be able to do it just like that, maybe Kole would redeem himself.

“I—I can’t, i have a boyfriend.” He seemed unamused and furrowed his brows, gently grabbing your chin he turned it back towards him making you look up. “Don’t do that mami, he obviously ain’t givin’ you the attention you deserve.” He glanced at your lips leaning closer towards your neck, the musky smell of his cologne filling up your nostrils. As hard as you were trying to resist you found yourself giving in, muttering out a low “You don’t know that.”

Pulling you closer by the waist he leaned down and whispered in your ear, “I do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” You subconsciously moved closer and from there he placed soft kisses down your neck. One hand resting on the side of his neck, you let your head fall back and let a low moan slip. That sound was all it took to bring you back to reality, you slightly pushed him back.

At this point, the thought of Kole had slipped your mind, at the back of your head you knew if he wasn’t going to fulfill your needs and treat you right someone else definitely would. His free hand snaked up your thigh as he spoke softly, “I’m what you need ma, just lemme prove it to you.” You hesitated, not sure if this was the right thing to do. “I don’t know, i really love him and—“ That was until you felt his hand go higher, cutting you off “Say yes, mami.”

Biting your lower lip you gave in, “Alright, fine just give me a few days to think.” you slipped out your phone and passed it to him. He grinned saving his contact in your phone, with that he placed another sweet kiss on your neck. “See you Friday, mi amor.” he said, as if ignoring what you had just said. His hands moving away from your body, a low whine escaped your lips at the lingering feeling as he disappeared into the crowd.

On your way out the club you had so many thoughts racing through your head. You felt so dizzy, you had only taken one sip from your drink and it still had an effect on you. Tapping on your phone, the screen read 10:47 pm, you also had 5 messages from Kole from about an hour ago and 3 missed phone calls and 2 missed FaceTime calls. You rolled your eyes thinking, ‘Now he decides to care.’

You got into your car and rested your head on the steering wheel for a few minutes trying to wait out your pounding headache and the pain you felt coming from the heel of your feet. Turning your head to the side, sighing with closed eyes you opened them back up. Glancing back at your phone, you saw his name.

Miles.

★ translations: te lo juro - i swear || te ves demasiado bella para que estés aquí sola - you look too beautiful to be here alone || bueno - well, good (in this case it’s used as well) || preciosa - precious

TAGS:

[chrollosbm]

Sunflowers Fields: a Choso Love Story Chapter Seven

You're broken from a past relationship, thinking you only deserve the worst. Choso comes along, making you realize you deserve the world and more. Will your ex-boyfriend let you go without a fight? (Choso x black!reader, yandere Choso)

art cr: reeminov on x

pls support me on ao3, it would mean the world to me

previous chapters

You didn’t know what, but something drove you to end up at Choso’s place of work. You were currently sat in the lobby, waiting for him to come down after the text you sent. You sent him a quick “Hey, can I see you right now?” text message, in which he replied with, “I’m on my way.” almost immediately. It was towards the end of his work day, not quite finished, but that didn’t seem to bother him. Usually, you would feel bad, but you were on edge after Suguru’s comment toward you, not too long ago. What did he mean by that?

Yeah, he always said that “You aren’t going anywhere,” bullshit to you when the two of you were dating, but you wrote it off as him being romantic somehow. But now, hearing him say it in that menacing voice, when you weren’t even dating, let alone on speaking terms, gave you chills. You had never been afraid of him physically, knowing he was only an emotional terrorist, but right now you didn’t feel so secure in that assumption.

Choso wasn’t aware you were already in the lobby waiting for him, so there you were, twiddling at your thumbs in one of the plush seats, patiently waiting for the man to exit the elevator. You were granted your wish soon after, seeing Choso with his signature look of boredom on his face, in his work attire, a long sleeved white shirt that clung to his biceps, black slacks that fit him just right, and black shoes. His silky black hair was down and he was slowly undoing the tie on his neck. 

How delicious.

You stood up from your seat and began walking his way, your footsteps a little speedy due to his long strides. He noticed you not too long after, turning his head after he saw you out of the corner of his eye. His face spoke for him, a look of concern on his profile. The two of you met in the middle, you giving him a small smile, if that were even possible.

“Hey, Sunflower. What are you doing here?” he said to you and you gave him a hug in response, smelling his scent and breathing him in. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. “I was just on my way to your apartment.” He said from above you and you pulled away to look up at his tired eyes.

“I know, I just wanted to see you sooner.” A real smile was on your face now, due to his sweet embrace and the fact that you got to see him.

He smiled softly at your response and moved to kiss your forehead softly. “Is everything okay?” He said as he pulled away, arms still around your waist, a troubled look in his eye.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t even know why you showed up so soon after your irritating and frightening encounter with Suguru, it was like your brain shut off and guided you here, to Choso. Your heart and body craved him, as if he could solve all your problems in an instant.

You didn’t want to worry him, but you also didn’t want to lie. You didn’t know what to do, so you just decided to put it off for now. You really just wanted him to make you feel better without talking about it at this current moment.

“I’m not having a great day.” You responded, telling the truth. You really weren’t. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, I just wanna be with you, Cho.” You put your face into his shirt, your curls squishing into your face as your head landed on his chest. You were really hoping you wouldn’t have to talk about this just yet to Choso, but you knew you couldn’t hide the fact that you had a run in with your ex. You felt a twinge of guilt forming just as he let out a soft sigh and rubbed your back, softly. 

“You wanna come over to my place?” He asked you, sweetly and you almost jumped for joy, your spirits already lifting. You instantly lifted your head with a big grin and nodded vigorously. You were glad he didn’t push the issue, being that you weren’t ready to talk about it just yet. You would, just not today. All you wanted was to be with Choso, and to not worry about your shit show of a life for once.

You had never been to his house, as it seemed more convenient to end up at your apartment after your dates. He had always explained that his little brother, Yuji, was at home, and you sympathized with him on that, understanding that it was still too soon to meet his family members. 

“What about Yuji?” You asked him, as realization hit you that he would be at home. School was out around this time, so he would definitely be at the house. You didn’t know if Choso was comfortable enough for you to meet him just yet, and you would respect his wishes either way. 

He shook his head and grabbed your hand, beginning to guide you out of the building and to his car. “He won’t be home tonight. He’s staying at a friend’s, apparently they’re studying for their exams.” He replied softly and you nodded. “Although, I do want you to meet him soon.” He looked down at you, a smile on those pink lips. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you gave him a small smile back, happy to hear those words. You had heard so much about the boy, learning that he was basically the opposite of Choso: loud, energetic, and excitable. It was hard to understand how the two of them turned out to be so different from each other, with Choso raising the child, and all. He was such a mystery.

The two of you arrived outside his home about twenty minutes later, and you were pleased at the view before you. From the outside, it was a gray, wide, two-story home with a decently sized front yard, matching his neighbors home. He lived in a suburban area, seemingly reserved for families from the amount of you noticed children that were playing outside. His front yard was plain, a perfectly mowed lawn, and a simple tree in the front. You weren’t surprised at the decently-sized home, considering he’d told you he was a homeowner before, but it was still strange seeing it in the flesh. 

He opened your car door, snapping you out of your thoughts, giving you a hand as usual to help you out the car. “Your house…” you said to him in awe, as your feet landed on his perfectly paved driveway. “It’s so beautiful.” You were being led to his front door, hand in Choso’s as he turned his head to look at you from behind.

“Thank you. I worked hard for it.” He gave you a cocky smirk and you couldn’t help but smile back. You were going to let him have pride in his home, instead of expressing your usual sarcastic comment, knowing he did in fact work hard for it. Choso worked so hard for his brothers to have a good life, including making sure they grew up in a good environment. He had mentioned that he would work grueling hours at part time jobs to make sure his little brothers would have food on the table, even if that meant he rarely slept or ate. All Choso wanted to do was make sure his brothers were fed, clothed, clean, and happy. It made your heart swell knowing how concerned he was for them, and at the expense of his own well-being. Choso was truly selfless, responsible, and protective. It was the sexiest thing about him.

The man you couldn’t stop admiring was opening the front door now, and your nose was hit with the smell of him, his house smelling like that mixture of scents you loved so much on him. You almost moaned as you stepped inside, that beautiful aroma filling your lungs. He stepped inside and waited for you to enter before shutting it behind you.

The inside of his house was the same as the outside, clean, simple, and organized. There wasn’t much in there as far as you could tell, but you could tell everything in there was of high quality and expensive. As soon as you stepped into the home, there was a decent sized living room with a matching two-piece sofa set, as well as a large coffee table that matched said set. There was a large flat screen television on his wall, above a simple television stand. Plain, but pretty.

Choso was removing his shoes and you followed suit, mocking his movements. 

“You want to place your things in my bedroom?” He was facing you now, looking down at you with that look of adoration you had become so used to. 

You nodded vigorously, excited to see his place of solitude. A person’s bedroom usually revealed a lot about them, you’d learned. Like yours, which was usually messy, with an unmade bed, clean laundry you’d been too lazy to put away piling up on your vanity chair, with hair products and makeup spread across said vanity. Your room was a mess, just like you were in general. 

He grabbed your hand again, but not before grabbing your arm bag with your work supplies and laptop, and began leading you down a dimly lit hallway once you passed the living room. The two of you passed the stairs and the very spotless, untouched looking kitchen, to a door at the end of the house. He opened the door to a bedroom that you expected Choso to have. 

You almost laughed at how predictable his bedroom was, being exactly what you expected. Absolutely spotless, just like the rest of his house. It was large, with a perfectly made king-sized bed that looked unslept in, empty white walls, a desk with an overpriced PC on top, and a couple of matching dressers. There were two doors on opposite sides of the room which you suspected were the bathroom and the closet.

Choso was placing your bag on his computer chair when you stepped in and took it upon yourself to look around, baffled.

“Cho’...” you said, inquiry in your voice, looking at his plain walls that contained a few windows, not even covered with curtains, with concern. “Are you secretly some sort of psychopath?” You asked, partially serious, partially not. What kind of person has nothing on their bedroom walls? He had to be insane. 

He turned to look at your worried expression and before he could stop himself, he let out a booming laugh. You continued to stare at him, genuinely waiting for his answer.

He was still laughing, not taking you seriously, when he finally answered. “Why do you ask?” He was walking towards you now, that amused look still on his face. “Because my room is so pristine?” He grabbed both of your hands and led you to his flawlessly made bed, and bounced down on it, before roughly pulling you down so you sat in his lap. 

Your cheeks warmed as he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, awaiting your answer. His chin was on top of your head, in your hair full of curls. You could’ve sworn you heard him sniff, but decided against saying anything, knowing you were obsessed with his scent yourself. His muscled thighs were holding you up, your ass directly on his groin and you were trying to ignore the dirty thoughts that were arising in your mind at the moment. 

You finally recovered from the unholy thoughts on the brink of your mind and responded. “Not just that…” You started and placed your hands on top of his, that were currently resting on your midsection, and leaned back against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, the exact opposite of yours that was beating in a rapid pace, like it always did when you were around Choso. “Your walls are white and empty. It looks like a mental asylum in here, baby.” You finished.

You felt Choso tense slightly, trying to immediately recover, making you smirk. You knew how much he loved when you called him baby, the simple pet name seeming to light a fire under him. It was adorable how the most simple things would fluster him sometimes, making his cheeks pink and his body tense. He would always try to hide it, but you would notice and use it to your advantage. 

He cleared his throat, obviously trying to hide his nervousness, and squeezed your side, giving you a small laugh as you slapped his hand away playfully. “The only thing that makes me insane is you, pretty girl.” He was giving you kisses on the side of your face now, the attack making you squirm on top of him, a smile on your face, warm from his soft lips. 

If anyone would have told you Choso would be this romantic, soft teddy bear of a man when you first met, you would have called them a liar. Inside this man’s hard exterior, body filled with tattoos and a face that always held the expression of boredom and annoyance, was a sensitive, sappy, protective, and compassionate soul. He was so stoic and impassive to those he didn’t know, due to the fact that he was also skeptical of others intentions. He didn’t trust anyone due to his childhood trauma, you soon realized. His parents left him with three children at such a young age, barely eighteen years old. He was lucky he even graduated high school at that point, that's how young he was. His parents, the people he depended on most, left him in the dust, causing a ripple effect on how he would treat others for the rest of his life. 

The two of you were so alike in that way, afraid of abandonment, dealing with it in different ways. While you clung to people, doing anything and everything to make them stay in your life, afraid of being cast aside and forgotten about, Choso rarely seemed to let others in. You learned he was really only close to his brothers, them all being his best friends. Sure, he had acquaintances, one in fact being Nanami, but he was extremely surface level with most people. You felt over the moon knowing you were one of those people that had the privilege of being close to him, and he was letting you in more and more each day, showing a cheeky side to his complex personality.

You were still smiling, cheeks aching and warm. “I better be the only woman you’re going insane for.” You were half-joking, keeping that playful tone in your voice to play it off, but you suddenly felt Choso pick you up, flipping you so you faced him now, legs on either side of his hips, your face inches from his now serious expression. 

“Sunflower…” He pushed a curl for your face back to get a better look at your stunned face, not expecting this change of position. “You are the only person on my mind, always. You don’t have to worry about some other woman. Ever.” His words came out forcefully and his arms were back on your waist, fingers rough on your hips and you swore you felt something stiffen between his legs. Your hands found themselves on his hard chest, and your eyes were wide, shocked and turned on by how quickly he manhandled you, staring into his deep never-ending orbs of darkness.

The way he was looking at you- fuck, the way he was staring at you with those eyes, the intensity so potent right now that it was filling the entire room. You felt it straight in your soul, you felt it in your core. How Choso was able to get you from thinking about him innocently to the nefarious way you were thinking now in the matter of seconds, was beyond you. It was like he flipped a switch, you going from day to night, skipping the sunset.

You tried to speak, your usual sarcasm on the tip of your tongue but you were rendered speechless when you suddenly felt his clothed arousal pressing against yours, making you suck in a breath. You were looking at the man in front of you, his mouth half open, eyes low with the look you had seen many times. You knew your face showed the same expression of desire that displayed on his and knew no more words needed to be spoken. 

His hands were guiding you to grind on his dick now, rough and excruciatingly slow, causing a needy whimper to exit your lips. His low eyes were still on you as he guided you, and you knew he wanted to drag this out, wanting to hear those whimpers escape your mouth as long as he possibly could before he did what he did best. You couldn’t wait to be crying above him as he drove you to ecstasy with his talented mouth. 

You were snapped back to reality when he spoke, low and seductive. “You think you're ready for this dick tonight, baby?” His lips were exhibiting that smirk you had seen many times before, pink and full. Your heart was the same pace as a stone skipping in water as those words left his mouth and you found yourself nodding and stuttering your answer entirely too fast. 

Bottom half still grinding on his clothed, rock hard cock, the words left your mouth. “Y-Yes.” Your stomach was twisted in knots at the pleasure and excitement. You had been waiting so long, too long. It was hard to control yourself around a man as sexy as Choso, you had wanted to feel him inside of you for so long, wanting to cry from the stimulation of his cock for ages now. “I want it so bad, please Cho’.” You were looking him in his eyes, knowing you looked and sounded so needy. 

“My desperate baby, so needy for my cock, huh? ” His tilted his head at you, a smug grin on his face as his hand reached down to grab your ass harshly, giving it a squeeze and moving you faster now. Your clit was brushing against the clothes on your body and you wanted nothing more than to remove both of your barriers, needing to feel his bare flesh on yours. “You’ve been such a good girl, and so patient. I won’t make you wait any longer, okay? Just know when I fuck you senseless, you’re mine forever. Understand me?” He let out, and you couldn’t help but notice the dark tone attached to those words.

Before you had the chance to answer or comprehend his words, his lips were on yours, rough, harsh, and wet. Your arms instinctively traveled to his neck, wanting to pull him closer, needing him to swallow you whole. Your pussy was sopping with wetness at his dirty words, and it was becoming uncomfortable sitting in your own arousal. He was right, you had been so patient and you were desperate to finally let him give you the prize you had been waiting for. Not to mention the being with him forever part he let out, maybe you were more than okay with him spitting out possessive claims, or maybe you were just incredibly horny, but either way it was stimulating you in a way you had never been stimulated before. You relished in hearing that he wanted you just as much as you longed for him. Your heart was playing hopscotch and your core was twisting just from the thought itself. 

His tongue was in your mouth, searching for something frantically, and you were doing the exact same, loving the taste of the mouth you had become so acquainted with. His hands were traveling under your sweatshirt now, finding that you weren’t wearing a bra. He quickly discovered how rock hard your nipples were and sucked in a breath, causing a halt to your kiss.

“All I did was kiss you and they’re fucking solid.” His words came out breathlessly, breathing into your mouth as you opened your eyes to find him already staring at you, forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t wait to see the reactions your body will have when I’m fucking you stupid, sunflower.” With that, your sweatshirt was off in an instant and his lips were attached to your hard pebble, without you even registering his words or the fact that he basically yanked your top off in a flash. You were now moaning with your head tilted back, at both his words and the pleasure that was going straight to your core. 

Your hands were moving frivolously to unbutton his shirt now, struggling and wanting to rip the fucking thing off of him, so you did just that. Black buttons went flying everywhere and you were pleasantly surprised at the strength you just exhibited, suddenly growing superhuman powers at the anticipation of being fucked. You felt him chuckle softly on your breast, the heat causing you to let out a small noise. The hand that was palming your ass gave you a hard slap, obviously a consequence for ruining his shirt. 

You were still grinding intensely on his cock, your sensitive button getting stimulated like crazy, but you were growing tired of it, needing to finally see him instead of using your imagination. Your hands traveled down his hard, tattooed torso, before landing on his belt buckle. Choso’s mouth unlatched from your nipple and his dark eyes were suddenly on yours, causing you to freeze, like a person who had just gotten caught committing a crime. 

“Not yet.” He said firmly, intense gaze still on you and your throat suddenly became dry, before you let out a small whine. He paused to remove the now destroyed shirt from his arms, before he immediately replaced his hands on your waist. Choso’s fingers on your hips were somehow rougher now, guiding you to move against him, with you obeying him, mindlessly. The friction between your clothed privates caused a moan to fall from your lips, filling the room, seeming to go straight to his cock, that grew harder, and bigger. Your panties were soaked, already being wet from the moment he sat you on those long, muscular legs of his. “I want to do something first.” He licked his lips, making sure to give your face a lingering look, and placed his moist lips onto your swollen ones. It was short, too short, ending as he was moving back further on his bed, carrying you effortlessly, with one arm on the way there.

He was laid back on the mattress, head resting on large pillows, with his hands behind his head, casually, before he spoke. “Stand up above me and take off your pants.” He ordered and you gave a confused frown, not sure what he was up to. You were about to inquire why, before he cut off your words, keeping you quiet the entire time, other than your whimpers and moans he had been hearing so far. “Now.” His words were firm and you were staring him in his domineering eyes, knowing it was time to shut up and listen.

So, with that, you were now awkwardly taking off your jeans and panties all in one go, legs on either side of his torso as you tried not to fall over due to your known clumsiness. You knew your face read embarrassment from the way he was staring at you, a smirk on his face, arms still behind his head, with his large biceps flexing unintentionally. 

He was so fucking sexy.

You obediently sat back down on him, landing on his rock hard abs. Your pussy was bare on his torso, dripping onto his pale skin and you moaned as you were finally able to feel his warm, soft skin on your cunt. Choso’s hands claimed their rightful place on your hips again, fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks on your brown skin. You looked down at him, breath heavy, as you were trying to patiently wait for what he told you next, like the good girl he claimed you were.

“Sit on my face.” He spoke suddenly, causing you to give him a stunned look. The two of you had never done that before. You knew you wanted nothing more, the visual of him underneath you, consuming you like his life depended on it. You spilling into his mouth and all over his pretty, perfect face. Fuck.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You spoke, sudden timidness in your voice. He made you so fucking nervous in these tense moments, the exact opposite of how you usually were. You were slowly inching up his inked and chiseled frame anyway, your actions contradicting your words. 

Choso rolled his eyes at you, not forgetting to let out a suck of his teeth, a habit he had recently gotten from you. “You won’t.” He gripped your hips, not impressed by your snail-like pace and pulled you towards his face. Before you knew it, your knees were on either side of his head as he gave your plump ass a slap, causing you to moan out in elation. “Now sit the fuck down.” He spoke clearly, words sharp. 

You complied, with no issue at all. He stuck his thick tongue out from his mouth just as you sat down, your wet pussy landing easily on a plush, wet surface. Your body shook with chills the moment he found your clit, beginning to lap you up slowly, roughly. Your head was tilted back again, too heavy for your neck as he drove you to insanity with his expert mouth. He was fumbling with your bundle of nerves brilliantly, making your brain hazy, unable to think of anything at all. Your eyes were in the back of your head, only able to focus on the intense pleasure he was providing you.

You grew tired of the darkness quickly, opening your eyes to look down at the man driving you wild. He looked dazed, drunk almost, as he always did when he was relishing in the taste of you. You loved seeing him like this, eyes low, staring at you intensely as he ate you your pussy like you were his last meal. It was another daydream you had when you were pleasuring yourself solo, the thought of him devouring your wet cunt with expertise and need, driving you over the edge quickly each time. Choso’s tongue was moving with vigor on your clit now, and the pleasure you were feeling from this angle was driving you up the fucking wall. Your hands mindlessly moved to your breasts, wanting to toy with your nipples to enhance the pleasure. He was watching you please yourself, your head tilted back again, and you heard him let out a low groan, obviously aroused by the sight of you. You were in heaven, so unaware of everything around you, only focused on how fucking amazing this felt, wanting to stay in this moment forever. 

Choso’s tongue suddenly moved from your clit down to your opening in one quick swipe, wanting to taste your juices already, greedily, even though you hadn’t had your release yet. You felt him fuck your hole with his tongue and sucked in a breath, the feeling surprisingly delightful. He moaned into your pussy, causing a vibration to erupt from him, then quickly returned his attention back to your clit, beginning to suck on the sensitive nub, wanting to drive you over the edge.

You moaned out in ecstasy as your head tilted back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head once again, unable to keep them open this time. The darkness helped you focus on his careful sucks, sending shockwaves up your body. Tingles shot up your frame and you knew your face was twisted up like a pretzel but you didn’t care, this felt fucking amazing. You were in complete and utter bliss, stimulating your brown, hard rocks, pussy in this beautiful man’s face, nothing else mattered in this world as of right now. Choso seemed to notice your ecstasy, and the hands on your hips began rocking you back and forth, encouraging you to ride his face. You did this with no problem, lip in your teeth, biting down hard enough to draw blood. His tongue was on your bundle of nerves again and your hips were moving like they had a mind of their own. Your hands found his hair and you were holding onto it like it was a handlebar, helping you balance before you passed out.

Your heavy pants were filling the room and you felt a familiar feeling approach your body. 

You opened your eyes to look down at Choso again, whose tongue was now sitting flat out of his mouth, letting you fuck yourself on his tongue. He still had that drunk look on his face, absolutely breath taken by you. The sight of it was just too sweet and your breathing became ragged as tears formed in your eyes. He, of course, noticed your orgasm approaching, prompting him to grab your asscheeks with both of his hands and grinded you against his tongue impossibly harder. You knew the routine by now and snapped your eyes to his, tears now spilling from them with a lip quiver.

You felt like you could barely breathe, having to force your body to manually inhale and exhale, your body seeming to forget its main function, as you came hard, with a shout of his name, relief filling your body. Your orgasm flooded out of you, which he gladly cleaned up with his tongue, causing you to tremble from the overstimulation. 

Your legs felt completely limp as you tried to lift yourself from his face. He noticed your struggle and lifted you with ease by your hips and placed you onto his clothed, rock hard cock. Your eyes were heavy as you stared at him, him looking absolutely ravishing, your juices dripping from the bottom of his face, making its way down his neck.

You were dripping again, from both your recent orgasm and the beautiful sight in front of you, knowing you were soaking his pants. He leaned up to wrap his strong arms around your body as he placed his swollen, wet lips on yours. You tasted your pussy on him as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, the flavor making you moan out.

“Choso…” You whined into the kiss and he pulled away, giving you a light kiss on your cheek.

“Yes?” He asked you, kissing away the tears you shed just minutes ago. His cock was growing impossibly harder and it was like a rock against your ass.

“Please, please fuck me.” You sobbed out, your desire to feel him inside of you becoming unbearable. You didn’t know how much longer you could take, didn't have much patience to wait any longer.  “I’m ready, please.” You begged him, not caring in the slightest of how desperate you sounded, just like earlier.

His hand moved up to the back of your head and forced you to look him in his dazed eyes. Yours were brimmed with tears, mascara staining the bottom of your eyes. “You’ve been such a good girl, your wish is my command.” He said softly and you moaned at the praise, grinding onto his cock. His breath caught in the back of his throat, most likely from the sound of your pretty voice and your dripping core grinding on his clothed cock, knowing he was just as desperate to fuck your brains out. 

He stood up from the bed and unbuckled his pants, his dark pools never leaving yours. You were panting hard with anticipation, resting on your elbows to watch his movements. You had never seen him completely bare before. Because he never let you get him off after the usual oral sessions he gave you, you were never granted the pleasure of seeing the obviously large package he was lugging around. You knew it was large from the many times you had felt it underneath his clothes, on your leg, your cunt, your ass, just teasing you mercilessly. He then took off his jeans and boxers all in one go, finally giving you the sight you more than deserved to see, and you froze instantly.

He was fucking huge. When his thick, pale cock plopped out of his boxers with a loud pop and landed on his abs, you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp. He was more than huge, a vein going down the side of his cock, a cause from the stiffness. He was long as well as he was girthy, even larger than you expected, in fact, so much bigger that you were afraid it wasn’t going to fit inside of you. To make everything one-hundred times fucking better, at the end of his cock, on his pretty pink tip, there laid a silver prince albert piercing, shining brightly. You knew your eyes were probably popping out of your skull by now, with you not even trying to hide your astonishment at the sight before you.

He seemed to notice and gave you a cocky smirk. You were allowing him to be cocky, knowing that he good and well deserved to be from his monster-like sized member alone. “Not what you expected?” He tilted his head in a teasing way. Precum dripped from his jeweled pink tip, causing you to whimper softly, your pussy probably creating a pool on his clean sheets. You couldn’t speak so you just simply just shook your head, at an absolute loss for words, and rightfully so. Where the fuck was that going?

Your brain seemed to function again, finally allowing you to speak as you looked at him in a panic, true fear stricken in you. “Cho, you’re so big.” You began to stutter. “I-I can’t.” You were shaking your head vigorously. You had never taken a dick this big before, let alone even seen one this size. You knew you weren't going to be able to walk at the end of this. Maybe he was right, maybe you weren’t ready. Then again, if you didn’t do it now, when would you ever be able to?

“Yes, you can, baby. You’re already so wet for me.” He spoke to you, as he placed his hands on your thighs, caressing them softly and reassuringly. “You’ll be okay. Just trust me.” His eyes read nothing but compassion and a hint of concern.

You knew you should trust him. You did want this after all, plus from the reaction your body was having in comparison to your mind was completely the opposite. Your nipples were rock solid, your pussy was so wet the inside of your thighs felt like a slip n’ slide, and the goosebumps on your skin wouldn’t go away. Plus, you weren’t going to punk out now. You were finally about to hit a home run. You nodded your head, deciding this was happening, excitement finally filling your body. 

He smiled with his dark eyes at your compliance, knowing you were prepared mentally and physically now.

He was breathing as hard as you at this point as he climbed back onto the bed and sat on the back of his legs. He then pulled you towards him gently with your thighs, orbs now burning intensely into yours. The cool piercing on his cock brushed against your clit briefly and it sent shockwaves throughout your body. His precum was mixing with your already wet clit and felt out of this world. You let out a moan as he began to to rub the piercing against it slowly and repeatedly. You were a mess under him already, your back arching as he didn’t let up, wanting to get another orgasm out of you. Your breath quickened, extra sensitive because of the previous release you just had minutes ago. 

“You gonna cum again already, baby? So greedy.” The sexy man above you teased with a smirk on his face. Just as he spoke, your orgasm came rushing through you, calmer this time but still intense and pleasurable, your juices leaking onto the bed. That was fucking record time.

He gave you no time to recover as he pushed the tip of his cock inside of you and your back arched as he stretched you out slowly, the pain and pleasure making you cry out. There was the tiniest burning sensation as he pushed into you carefully, not wanting to hurt you, your walls tight around his thick cock. Tears formed again but you couldn’t help it, the pain and pleasure was driving you wild.

His mouth was hanging halfway open in absolute bliss as he continued to push into you, slowly. “Fuck, baby. You feel amazing.” He groaned as you continued to pant, your breathing forgetting its function for the second time as he gave one final push that settled him inside of you completely. You both let out a moan at the same time, a jolt of electricity seeming to go through the two of you. The sparks shot up your body intensely, causing chills of pleasure to erupt all over your body.

Your lip was quivering as he put his hands on your hips, beginning to move inside of you, his movements slow and drawn out as you threw your head back onto the bed, your eyes rolling back involuntarily. His cock was effortlessly hitting your g-spot like it had been inside of you before, hitting a button he knew so well, again and again, not stopping. Your breath was quickening and you grabbed his veiny, ink covered forearms, beginning to dig your acrylic nails into them. His arms were covered in goosebumps as you felt them, the same as yours, and your quickening breath became slightly louder, the thought of you making him feel good sending shockwaves of pleasure up your body.

He seemed to take that as encouragement and started to ram into you without warning. The change of pace forcing your eyes open and your moans growing louder with each snap of his hips. His strokes were long and hard, the force of his cock hitting your g-spot causing tears of pleasure to pour from your eyes. You rested on your elbows to look at Choso, who was moving at a vigorous speed with his head tilted back in pleasure. His hair was down, hanging above his shoulders, with some of it sticking to his face that was now covered in slick sweat. His eyes were closed, his breaths were hard and shallow and his mouth was hanging halfway open.

He looked so fucking sexy.

He truly was the man of your dreams, so fucking delectable as he was ramming into you like it was his life’s purpose. He looked fucking edible as sweat droplets were forming on his forehead at the expense of you fucking stupid. His arms were flexing and his abs were on full display, right in your face. He was absolutely perfect, not a flaw in sight. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from the sight of this gorgeous man, the view being god damn spectacular. 

As if he felt your eyes on him, he snapped his open and looked down at you in absolute ecstasy, his orbs having a feral and dark look to them. Your tits were bouncing at the speed of his thrusts and he let out a loud moan. 

“So fucking perfect.” He said roughly, eyes boring into yours. His hand reached down and placed his thumb on your clit and you shook your head at him, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. You weren't even sure if you were able to cum again.

“I’m so sensitive, Cho’, please.” You cried as more tears spilled from your eyes and he continued anyway. The thought of cumming again was exhausting, but you wanted it, wanting to lose yourself to that pleasure again. His thrusts never let up as he continued to rub your clit relentlessly and quickly. Your breathing became erratic and you clenched around him, your soft walls seeming to send him over the edge, earning another moan from Choso.

“Fuck. Baby. I need you to cum.” He basically whimpered. “I’m so close.” He begged you.

That was not going to be a problem for you. You were already close as he pleaded with you, but him begging you caused an eruption inside of you and you were suddenly hot all over. All your senses seemed to stop working, your sight temporarily gone, although you knew your eyes were intensively on his, not being able to hear anything but your moans, his loud breaths, and the gushing of your pussy. Your orgasm washed over you for the third time, the most intense one, almost blacking you out with a rumble, and right on cue, he was cumming inside of you with a call of your name falling from his lips.

You felt his hot cum inside of you and his hips stuttered as he released every last drop inside of you, lip caught in his mouth. After a short while, he seemed to finally release everything, his hips no longer rocking into you.

He was smiling at you now, and leaned down to kiss you softly, panting into your mouth. His hair brushed against your cheeks, tickling you briefly. You returned the kiss, both of you breathing harshly into each other. You felt him slip out of you and you both winced from oversensitivity. 

You felt his cum dripping out of you panicked briefly, before he pulled away and quickly reassured you.

“I’ll get you a morning after pill tonight, Sunflower.” He said softly, looking into your eyes as he pushed your sticky curls from your face. Your heart rate slowed and you nodded, trusting him. You wanted children, but now was not the time. You were glad the two of you were on the same page about that.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, before rolling off of you, and pulled you towards him to cuddle into his chest, just as you two had done every time he gave you an earth shattering orgasm.

And just like before, you felt yourself falling into a deep slumber, feeling safe in his arms.

Chapter Eight is Posted

[reidslovely]

Ok now let us INNNNN on some CEO Peter x reader ! How they meet. What is their dynamic. How they end up together??? Pretty pls pls 🥺🥺

since you said please i guess...

I see them meeting in the lobby of Parker Industries. And because I'm nothing but cliche he's coming on his day off for a client meeting and she's standing in the lobby shuffling through papers obviously lost. He's staring at his Apple Watch and the collide, him sending her towards the floor. He shoots arm out and catches her, staring at her wide eyes as he basically pulls her back to her feet, arm around her stomach as he held her.

"I am so so sorry. I was looking at a message."

"I am so so sorry I was looking at this map and I was.."

They spoke at the same time. Peter's face remained flat but there was a smile in his eyes. He thought she was..gorgeous, he shook his head and cleared his throat.

"You're fine don't worry about it. Can I help you." He pointed at the map of the building in her hands. She nodded looking up at him with big eyes, and handing him the map.

"My mother has a meeting with Mr. Parker over a biotech research for her collarbone damage due to cancer. It's a whole thing, and I'm super late."

"You're in luck because the CEO is also super late to this meeting." Peter chuckled. "Mr. Parker..nice to meet you."

"Oh my god." She says reaching her hand out shaking it. "I'm (y/n) (l/n) nice to meet you...also." she stuttered through her greeting. Peter nodded and handed her map back to her.

"I'll walk with you. Follow me."

I do think that the two have a slight age gap. Peter being around 30-33 and reader being about 25-27. Which makes him kind of skeptical for a bit because Peter's never dated someone younger than him outside of Gwen being a year younger than him and even if it's not by a lot and both are in similar places in life he worries that she'd find him to be old and boring. But she doesn't, she doesn't really pay any mind to the age gap besides teasingly calling him 'old man' here and there in their relationship.

At the start they definitely have a grumpy/sunshine dynamic even if Peter isn't that grumpy he's been out of the dating pool for a few years and he's just kind if skittish which makes him seem grumpy. He's the reason for these big nice parties but he only talks to the people he knows and clients he's built relationships with. She's the one running around greeting people asking if they're having a fun time and he just admires her so much for it. She inspires him and brings him out of his little dark room he's built for himself which helps everyone get to know him a little bit better and see that he's not only a kind person, but also really funny. He's also just so so so soft for her. Peter can be intimidating if needed and he knows how to play that well and when to play it. But whenever she's around he's so soft, it's like all the bad things in his life become muffled. She feels the same about him, she thinks he's the smartest man in the world. She knows he is, and doesn't hesitate to remind him when he is forgetting that himself. As their relationship progresses for Peter he feels like he got a second chance at love, and she feels like she's really fallen in love for the first time.

They start dating pretty quickly actually for Peter being so skittish, Harry gave him a jump in headfirst speech that urged him into asking her to be his girlfriend. And when he did it he felt like that nerdy high school boy again, but when she said yes he knew he made the right decision.

They go on the nicest vacations, he definitely wants to see the world with her. But he also loves just being in their Forest Hills home having domestic moments. He likes the way she'll come into his office while he's working and sit on his lap playing with his hair. His goal is just to spoil his girl, any thing she wants he'd give it to her no matter the cost. If she asked him tomorrow to give up everything and just disappear with her he'd do it, and she'd do it for him.

He also totally gives her a job at Parker Industries let's be real. All she wanted to do was be his assistant/receptionist, and when the spot opened he immediately offered it to her because no one better could keep up with him. And honestly..it's true.

I don't know there is a lot about them, she's gonna need a cute nickname though. I'll get back to y'all on that.

have a ceo!peter coded photo:

[nightttdreamers]

Night Shift | Craig x Kenny

AAA chapter two is heeeere its mostly silly fun before we actually start the fake dating part hehe pls enjoy (and check it out on ao3 for better formatting pls)

AO3 Link | 4k words | Chapter 2/?

Craig and Kenny strike a deal.

Craig has never been a morning person, but recently, it feels like every force in the world is trying to keep him in bed.

There’s the brief, near blissful moment when he’s just woken up. He can barely hear his alarm, the sleep not quite shaken off yet, unaware of what the day brings. Then, inevitably, his first thought washes over him; Tweek dumped you.

Just knowing that this is going to weigh on him all day is exhausting to think about. He doesn’t waste time wondering what he did wrong or how to best avoid the other anymore. The exhaustion comes from knowing that Tweek’s absence is just something he has to deal with now, every damn day.

Before, the habit of trying to beat his boyfriend to the first ‘good morning’ text motivated him to get up. But lately, he always spends a few minutes letting his alarm ring out, trying to delay his day for as long as possible. But, then his phone begins to buzz to life, and he knows he can’t ignore the real world any more.

On this particular morning, the urge to pull the covers over his head is particularly strong. Not only did he work late last night, but the fact that he looked like an idiot in front of Kenny is also hanging over his head. Craig groans, recalling their bizarre interaction.

“You wanna be my boyfriend?” He had asked.

Kenny looked bewildered, a mixture of surprise and concern on his face. But, before Craig could even go back on his question, Kenny replied, “Like, for money?”

Unable to bear the look on the other’s face, Craig turned away, pulling out a pack of Kenny’s usual cigarettes. “No, that would be stupid,” he stammered out. “I’m being stupid, fuck. Here, I can-” He took the magazine that Kenny had been holding and scanned it along with the Camels. Finally, he looked back up at the blonde. “Anything else?”

Kenny’s brows knit together as he looked at Craig. His lips were pursed together, shifting around his face like he was trying to talk without opening his mouth. “No,” he said after some pause, drawing out the word. “That’s it.” Kenny slid a few bills across the counter, not looking away from Craig as he took his items.

Craig thought that if tried to speak again, he would say something even worse than what he already had, so he simply nodded.

Kenny headed towards the door, shooting Craig an awkward glance back just before he left. “Take care of yourself, man.”

Craig rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his face deep into the pillow in an effort to stop his brain from playing the memory over and over again. When that didn’t work, he turned his head to the side, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and finally turning off his alarm.

He squints as the screen lights up, serving as the only light source in his room. There are two notifications from Clyde, one sent around 2AM linking a YouTube video called “BAD DAY Better Watch This 😂 1 Hour Best Funny & Fails” and another sent 20 minutes ago, asking “Tolkien had to make up a test please pLEASE can u drive me today PLEASE?????”

Craig gives the message a thumbs down and ignores the typing bubble that immediately appears (he’ll end up driving Clyde, of course, he just wants to fuck with him first). His next notification is a Snapchat message from “kmck69,” a username he doesn’t recognize until he opens the message.

kmck69: were u being serious b4

kmck69: it is a rlly stupid idea 

kmck69: but also im down if ur down

Craig reads the messages, then reads them again just to make sure he’s not hallucinating. As an added measure, he checks the user’s last story and, sure enough, it’s a selfie of Kenny holding a beer, Cartman lurking in the background, with the caption “5 screenshots and i piss in cartmans drink.”

Once Kenny had left last night, Craig had spent the last hour of his shift overthinking every detail of their interaction. He didn’t even know where his bizarre idea had come from, it had just slipped from his mouth before it was fully-formed. Hearing that Tweek was out hanging around with some goth kid infuriated him beyond words or logic. The only coherent thought Craig could form about it was that something had to change. He didn’t want to keep rotting in his bed, head swimming with thoughts about his ex. He just wanted to do something.

Asking Kenny to pretend to be his boyfriend was just the first idea that came to mind.

He hadn’t expected the other to even justify him with a response beyond their uncomfortable conversation. But, apparently, Kenny was mulling it over until nearly 4 in the morning when he texted, which is far more thought than Craig put into it.

It’s a stupid idea. He knows it is, they both know it is. But, it’s something.

spacemancraig: Yeah I’m down

He stares at his screen for a moment, quickly feeling the prickle of anxiety in his chest. It’s useless to sit and wait for a response, so he puts his phone down and pulls himself out of bed. The second he actually rises from his mattress, his phone buzzes to life, and Craig almost drops the device in how quickly he grabs it.

(Clyde) Literally I’m already ready I won’t hold you up I’ll even buy you starbucks or whatever gay shit you like

(Clyde) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

(Clyde) I’m sorry for calling you gay and starbucks gay bro PLEASE don’t make me walk

He sighs, typing out a quick response before he puts the phone down for real.

(Craig) Fine

—-----

Kenny stumbles into Chemistry three minutes after the bell, handing their teacher a crumbled-up excuse note before shuffling to his seat. It’s not uncommon for him to be late, and normally Craig would pay it no mind. However, normally he’s not anxiously waiting for a Snapchat from the other. 

Craig can’t take his eyes off him, his notes trailing off as he drowns out the voice of their teacher. He’s not sure whether Kenny’s changed his mind and is brushing him off, or genuinely just oblivious of the holes Craig is staring into the back of his head. The blonde just rummages through his bag and pulls out a few sheets of paper, not even sparing Craig a glance back. 

Somehow, in every class he finds himself staring at the back of a blonde’s head. He wonders if he might be the problem.

At first, Kenny just chews on his eraser and passes notes to Kyle sitting beside him. But, after a few minutes of this, he turns and locks eyes with Craig. Before Craig can even try to communicate something quietly across the row separating them, Kenny turns away again, and Craig wants to throw his textbook at the other’s head. Before he can, though, he feels his phone buzz to life in his pocket.

kmck69: we have 2 talk abt it obv

kmck69: do u have work 2nite

Craig rolls his eyes as he reads the messages, unsure as to why Kenny needs to use the least amount of characters possible when he texts.

spacemancraig: No

kmck69: cool well i do

kmck69: im at the bijou from 4 to 12

kmck69: if u want free popcorn tho u can come after 10

kmck69: thats when concession closes so its kinda old but tbh still good

spacemancraig: Yeah I think I’ll pass on the stale popcorn

spacemancraig: But I’ll come by

kmck69: ur loss

kmck69: word tho

kmck69: also cute username lmao

Craig’s face scrunches up as he reads the text, glancing up to look at Kenny. The blonde looks back at him, flashing a smile, and Craig just flips him off in response.

kmck69: ooh rawr ur so scary and mean

kmck69: can u leave me alone im trying 2 learn >:(

He wants to retort that Kenny was the one who started it, but typing that feels incredibly childish. Instead, Craig rolls his eyes and tucks his phone away, looking back up at the lesson.

—------

There are a lot of points today when Craig’s wondered when his life took a wrong turn. Losing sleep over a conversation with someone he has never really given a shit about, feeling like shit the entire morning waiting on a message from the aforementioned someone, and now, he’s at South Park’s lamest and only movie theater at 10PM on a Thursday. 

Maybe it wasn’t just a wrong turn, maybe it’s an eighteen-year downward spiral and he’s just getting closer to rock bottom.

The Bijou is, of course, dead. Craig only goes when they randomly decide to screen something from the Criterion Collection. He and his friends used to hang around the place more often, but then Tolkien got a home theater and every movie started being available to stream, and they didn’t have to secretly spike their slushies in the Black household. Now, the only people that frequent The Bijou are the elderly and his 15 year old sister, for some reason.

He decided to wait until 10PM to go. Not because Kenny made the stale popcorn sound appetizing, but he figured the later he went, the less likely he was to run into someone he knew. He parks his car a few blocks down the street and walks to the theater, hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. The marquee has been defaced, as per usual, and just reads “PENIS” followed by the scrambled extra letters from whatever movie title it once said. How original.

The ticket booth is empty, and when he steps inside, the theater is just as deserted as he expected it to be. Craig isn’t exactly sure of his next move as he lingers by the entrance, looking around. Just walking into the theater without a ticket to look for Kenny feels wrong, but so does just standing around awkwardly. Before he can choose, though, someone speaks behind him.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re not selling any more tickets to our last screening- Oh, Craig?” Chirps a voice from the concession stand. Craig turns, coming face-to-face with Butters. The other boy smiles at him, far too brightly considering the two of them are not friends. The most they’ve interacted in all of high school is the rare occasion that Craig visits the Bijou, in which he affords Butters a small head nod as a greeting if they meet eyes. 

“Hey, Butters,” Craig says. “Is Kenny around?”

Almost comically, Butters cocks his head to the side. “Kenny? I didn’t know you two were friends!”

An abrupt silence comes between them, and Craig just waits for Butters to tell him where his coworker is. However, the blue-eyed boy just looks at him with a quizzical expression on his face, and Craig realizes he’s waiting for a confirmation.

“Uh, sure,” Craig mumbles after a moment. “Friends. Friendly, I guess. So, where is he?”

Butters beams at his answer, starting to wipe the countertop he’s standing behind down as he responds. “That’s so nice. He needs friends who won’t get him into trouble, you know? And he was just talking about you the other day.”

“He was?” Craig asks, but before Butters can elaborate, the two are interrupted.

“Craig!” Shouts Kenny from across the theater. Clad in a button-down, black skinny jeans, a red vest and matching bow-tie, he looks starkly different than he did this morning. The almost formal outfit doesn’t look quite right on him, and Craig realizes he’s never seen Kenny in something that wasn’t two sizes too large. When the blonde arrives at the concession stand, he’s grinning, looking at Craig so excitedly that the dark-haired boy has to turn his face away.

“It’s me, don’t cream your jeans,” Craig says, earning a little snicker from Butters. 

“I’ll sure as hell try,” Kenny replies, not sounding nearly as sarcastic as Craig. “I was starting to think you were bailing. It’s late, man.” As he speaks, he lifts himself onto the concession counter and sits, dangling his legs.

Butters frowns, putting his hands on his hips (Craig didn’t know that people did that in real life, but it suits Butters’ cartoonish mannerisms). “Aw, Kenny. I was just wiping that down.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, swinging his legs around to the other side of the counter and hopping off. “Happy?” He asks his coworker, who lets out a little puff of air in response and returns to his cleaning. Kenny shoots Craig a funny look, and Craig feels like he’s missing something. “As you can see, Butters and I take a lot of pride in this establishment.”

“That sounds awfully insincere, Kenny,” Butters grumbles, mostly to himself. “I do take pride in this establishment.”

It’s pretty weird to watch Kenny and Butters interact like this. They’re both oddballs in their social circles, especially Butters, and he can’t help but feel a bit out-of-place talking to them, especially outside of school. Craig absent-mindedly slides his phone from his pocket, checking the screen, just out of habit.

“Got somewhere to be?” Kenny asks, and when Craig looks up, the other is staring right at him, of course. He’s holding one of the soft drink cups, filled to the brim with popcorn.

Craig tucks his phone away. “You were serious about the stale popcorn?”

“It’s just gonna get thrown out,” Kenny says, popping a few kernels in his mouth. “Did you want some?”

Craig narrows his eyes in suspicion, responding with an unsure hum. One time, in the 5th grade, he saw Kenny pick up an earthworm from the sidewalk and swallow it whole. He did it, of course, for five bucks from Clyde, but Craig still doesn’t trust his taste.

Kenny rolls his eyes, opening up the machine to fill another cup. “Don’t be a princess. It’s still good. Right, Butters?” Kenny asks as he slides past his coworker, crossing to Craig’s side of the counter. 

“Oh, I don’t like to eat the popcorn much,” Butters replies, attending to the machine once Kenny’s done with it. “I gotta smell it all day, then clean the machine, scrape all the burnt pieces. I used to think movie theater popcorn was one of the yummiest smells, but now it doesn’t really get my tummy rumbling.”

Talking to Butters is weird, Craig thinks. He’s not sure if he’s ever heard anyone else use the phrase ‘tummy rumbling’ in his life. He glances at Kenny, who seems entirely unphased by the other’s weird expressions. 

“Yeah, okay,” Kenny says with a small shrug. He hands one of the popcorn cups to Craig, who takes it reluctantly. “I don’t know why I asked him.”

“Not that this isn’t thrilling,” Craig says, turning fully to Kenny. Butters is pretty engaged with his cleaning, but Craig doesn’t need him hearing any part of this conversation, so he speaks low. “Can we talk now?”

Kenny lets out an amused puff of air. “Butters, I’m gonna go do theater checks” he says, not taking his eyes away from Craig. “Craig’s coming with me.”

“You better not just be sneakin’ him into the movie for free, Kenny,” Butters grumbles, but his coworker is already walking away, waving a hand dismissively. Craig spares Butters an awkward glance before following behind Kenny.

“You do that often?” Craig asks.

“What? Sneak people in?” Kenny replies. He shoots a look back at Butters, making sure he isn’t listening before he continues. “Not all the time. I’m not really into losing this job.”

Right, Craig thinks, Kenny actually needs this job. The thought makes him a bit uncomfortable, that Kenny has to put in the hours at a shitty movie theater to pay for things he actually needs. Meanwhile, Craig works so he can get out of the house and have some spending money.

Kenny glances behind them, then slides a vape out of his pocket and hits it. He turns his head to the side, courteous enough not to blow smoke right at Craig, though not enough to pick a less obnoxious flavor.

“Sorry,” Kenny says, noticing how Craig wrinkles his nose at the scent. “Butters doesn’t like it either, probably because it’d get us in trouble.”

“So you don’t care enough about this job to not vape?” Craig asks.

This time, Kenny blows the cloud right in his face. “Be nice to me, Tucker. I let your sister sneak in here all the time.”

Craig pauses, taking a second to process what Kenny just said. “You what?”

Kenny stops too, poking his head into the closest screening room as he speaks. “Yeah, she comes by a lot. Here, this one’s empty,” he steps into the theater, holding the door open so Craig can follow. It’s a bit odd-looking inside. It’s not often he sees empty theaters with the lights on, especially not clean ones. Kenny takes a seat in a nearby row, throwing his legs over the chairs as he munches on his popcorn. “Don’t worry, no one’s gonna hear us. I cleaned this one an hour ago, and I’ve only had to kick out people who stayed after a movie like, three times, so we’re good.”

Craig takes a seat a few spots away from Kenny, giving the other room to sprawl out. “Why did they stay?”

“Sometimes they just fall asleep. One time there was a couple fucking, though. That was pretty sweet. In that row over there,” Kenny points behind him, a smirk on his face.

Craig blinks and wonders what ever happened to the Kenny he went to elementary school with, the one who rarely spoke except for the occasional dirty joke. Focus, Craig.

“Uh, so about last night,” Craig begins, straightening up a bit in his seat. Kenny mirrors him, showing that he’s listening. “I was just talking without thinking. It is a really fucking dumb idea.”

“But you showed up to talk about it,” Kenny notes.

Craig sighs. “Yeah, I did. Because I’m really fucking dumb. And I’m sick of the sympathy from my dumb friends. And you said you’d be down.” Kenny just looks at him, and Craig finds himself talking just to avoid the awkward silence. “If you’re not anymore though, that’s fine. There’s no pressure or anything.”

“I’m still down,” Kenny says with a small nod. “As long as I’m paid for my time. God, I sound like a hooker.”

“You’re not a hooker,” Craig adds a bit too quickly. “We don’t need to actually do anything, I don’t think.”

“So what do I have to do?”

Craig doesn’t answer for a moment. Apparently, this tells Kenny all he needs to know.

“Oh, so you really didn’t think this through, huh?” Kenny makes an odd clicking sound with his tongue, shaking his head. Craig thinks he’s trying to be funny, but it’s not helping how embarrassing the conversation feels. “Okay, Craig. If you want Tweak to take you back, what do you think would really get him all pissed off and hot and jealous?”

“Hang on-” Craig sits up a bit, raising a hand as Kenny speaks. “I’m not trying to get him back.”

“You’re not?”

Craig opened his mouth, but words couldn’t quite seem to come out. Was he trying to get Tweek back? There were plenty of couples in South Park that broke up only to come back together. In fact, he’d stop getting hopeful when Bebe and Clyde would split, as it was inevitable they’d be sucking face again within a week. But, he’d never thought about that possibility for him and Tweek. They didn’t break up because of a fight or mistake or something stupid. Honestly, Craig still couldn’t quite pin why they had broken up. All he knew is that Tweek didn’t want to be with him anymore. The thought of trying to get his ex to change his mind and take him back hadn’t even occurred to him, and right now, it just sounded pathetic.

“Jeez, I didn’t know that would be such a tough question,” Kenny muses, bringing Craig out of his thoughts. “It’s fine if you want him back, man. I don’t judge.”

“I don’t” Craig says, maybe a bit too assertively as it makes Kenny lean a bit further away from him. “He doesn’t want to be together, whatever. I’m not gonna try to trick him into getting back with me. I just want people to know I’m cool about it.”

Kenny makes a little high-pitched hum, his face scrunching up. He takes another hit of his vape, looking thoughtful as he does so (as thoughtful as someone hitting a neon green cylinder can). “Okay,” he says, blowing out smoke. “We’ll make everyone think we fucked.”

“What the fuck- Kenny,” Craig stammers out, shaking his head as he speaks. “How would we even, who would fall for that? What’s that even gonna do?”

Kenny leans forward again, resting his arms on the arm of the chair and once again being too close to Craig’s personal space. “No, Craig, listen. This is one of my better ideas. If you immediately start dating some dude, everyone’s gonna think it’s a rebound and people know I’m not really the dating type. It’ll be weird, someone’s gonna see through it because I’m not not gonna hook up with someone else. But- if people think we just fucked, they’ll be like, ‘Wow Craig moved on and he doesn’t give a fuck and he’s so cool,’ which is your goal, right?”

Craig stares at Kenny, wide eyed, and Kenny stares right back. It’s impossible to focus on what the blonde is saying with that eager look in his eyes, like some kind of dog waiting for a treat. However, when Craig actually does start to process the idea, he realizes Kenny’s making some good points. Kenny raises his brows, still waiting for a reply. Craig lets out a sigh, looking up at the theater ceiling. “Fuck. That’s- Yeah, that’s a good plan.”

“I know!” Kenny starts drumming his fingers along the side of the seat, and Craig can tell he’s beaming without even looking at him. “I want sixty-five.”

Now, Craig looks back down at Kenny, who is making a face like that wasn’t a ridiculous thing to say. “Bucks? You want sixty-five dollars?”

“Cash,” Kenny adds. The two just stare at each other for a moment because every time Craig looks at Kenny, apparently Kenny’s already looking at him. 

“I’ll give you forty,” Craig offers, hoping his tone sounds firm enough to stop any further negotiation.”

“Deal,” Kenny finally leans back in his seat and Craig feels like he can actually breathe again. If they’re gonna do this, he needs to talk with Kenny about personal space. And maybe that god awful vape flavor too. Shit, they’re actually doing it. 

Craig nods before his brain fully catches up, like he’s convincing himself this is real life. “Okay, yeah. Deal. Wow.”

Kenny glances over at him. “You good? You can’t back out now. We said deal.”

Craig is still nodding, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “We’re good. I just didn’t really think you’d say yes. I don’t, uh, have much of a plan.”

Kenny puts his hand on Craig’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dude. ‘Cause I already have a plan.”

“My head’s not-” he starts, then lets out a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s the plan?”

Kenny stands, looking back down at Craig with a grin. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to get people talking about my sex life. And lucky for you, I have just the party to get this rumor started.” Kenny rubs his hand on a chair, then sticks it out for Craig. “You trust me, dude?”

Looking up at the blonde, the sheer dumb confidence on his face, his stupid uniform bowtie, there’s no way Craig should feel at ease. But, he has forty bucks and his reputation on the line, and Kenny might just be the best shot he has at escaping his current hellhole situation. Craig stands, gripping Kenny’s hand.

“Fuck it,” he says. “I trust you, let’s do this.”